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AP Story - Mass Sterilization! | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | records reveal... | ` Old records reveal Massachusetts sterilizaitons `
By Associated Press, 11/29/2002 12:31
It was what one of the darkest chapters in Massachusetts' treatment of its
sick and disabled.
In the 1890s, according to records obtained by Boston Magazine, at least 26
patients at a state hospital for epileptics in Palmer many of them boys 14-
and 15-years-old were sterilized by having their testicles cut off.
Everett Flood, then superintendent of the state institution that later became
the Monson Developmental Center, reported his gruesome surgeries in a letter
to Martin Barr, president of the American Association for the Study of
Feebleness, the magazine said.
Flood told Barr, an advocate of the notion that children should be sterilized
upon being declared defective to preserve the race, that the patients were
either epileptic or showed signs of compulsive stealing, masturbation or
''solitary behavior.''
Although Massachusetts was never among the states that endorsed sterilization,
state officials and eugenics advocates at Harvard University and other
colleges were still promoting ''purification'' of the population nearly 40
years later, the magazine said.
In 1929, Ransom Greene, the superintendent of the Fernald State School in
Waltham, which had been the nation's first residential facility for the
retarded when it was launched in 1848, asked the director of Massachusetts
General Hospital in Boston to help him sterilize ''several high-grade
defective girls.''
Frederic Washburn, the hospital director, declined saying his trustees and
legal department found that the hospital's participation ''would be
inadvisable.''
''It was a shameful period in the history of care and treatment of people with
mental retardation,'' Gerald Morrissey, state commissioner of mental
retardation said in a statement issued after the magazine article was
published. ''In today's society, persons with disabilities are afforded
dignity and respect as well as significant legal safeguards to prevent any
violation of a person's basic human rights.''
The institutionalized weren't the only targets, the magazine said. The
December issue of the magazine hit the stands earlier this past week.
In 1928, with the help of professors and students from Harvard, Smith College
and the Massachusetts College of Agriculture, Leon Whitney, a Northampton dog
breeder and secretary of the American Eugenics Society, launched a secret
heredity study of the residents of two small rural communities in western
Massachusetts: Shutesbury and Leverett.
Whitney got the cooperation of local doctors and school officials and the
directors of state institutions, including Greene at Fernald, who secretly
provided him with academic and medical records of the residents. He also
checked tax bills and church attendance and administered what he claimed were
''mental tests'' that would ferret out ''hereditary defects,'' including
pauperism, alcoholism, immorality and feeble-mindedness.
''Of course we do not want to make much noise about what we are doing because
then we would not get the cooperation of the people,'' Whitney warned in
letters, the magazine said. The residents were told only that the information
was for a ''study of old families of Shutesbury and Leverett.''
Whitney later used the information in his book, ''The Case for
Sterilization,'' calling the communities ''an example of the progress of
degeneracy in this country.'' He sent a copy to Adolf Hitler and got a
congratulatory note back, the magazine said.
It wasn't clear from the correspondence why Whitney set his sights on the two
towns, said Welling Savo, who wrote the Boston Magazine article. However, they
had come under the scrutiny of other eugenicists, she said. In 1912, one study
described Shutesbury as ''so uniformly decadent that a normal comparison was
lacking.''
She also found a 1916 masters' thesis at the Massachusetts College of
Agriculture that concluded ''Whenever an example of decadence is sought, among
the first names mentioned is this town.''
Shutesbury residents were both appalled and amused to learn of the study.
''Oh my God, that's outrageous,'' said Rebecca Torres, who serves on the Board
of Selectmen. ''That's unbelievable.''
''It was chilling,'' said Roberta Hunting, whose father-in-law, Ward Hunting
had been Shutesbury's Town Clerk from 1911 until 1961. She said the family,
whose genealogy is included in Whitney's records, knew nothing about the
study.
Still, Town Clerk Leslie Bracebridge said she couldn't help joking about it.
''It's so absurd,'' she said.
* * * |
Playful 2 | PENECTOMY | Variations on a theme.A couple safely indulges their fetish with a bit of charged play. | Playful 2
She sauntered into the bedroom wearing nothing save the diving knife holster
strapped to her thigh. To complete the image, she had wet her blond mane, and
combed it straight back, giving the appearance of having just stepped from a
pool. Her skin glowed enticingly with the sheen of baby oil, a reasonable
facsimile of sunblock. Placing a hand on each hip she established her
conditions. "I know what you expect," she announced defiantly, her chin held
aloft to convey an arrogant confidence. "And you will receive it, but
everything has its price. The price of my attention is your ejaculation. Do
you understand? You are not to come, regardless of the need." I lay back
against a swarm of pillows gently stroking a massive erection, which by now
was oozing excitement from the tip. I begged to be allowed to climax,
referencing a long denied release as mitigating circumstances, but she would
have none of it. "Oh, I am well aware of your goals," she scolded. "But, that
only engenders precautions," she continued, patting the knife strapped to her
delicious flesh. "The most timid of squirts will see the head of your cock
off," she hissed, her voice descending into a raspy whisper.
At that she mounted the bed and crawled like some savage dick rending beast
toward my vulnerable meat. Her heavy breasts capped with two of the palest
pink puffy nipples hung invitingly, swaying this way and that. By the time she
arrived I wanted to spray her face with my need, but I restrained myself.
Moments like this should be savored. Instantly she clamped two delightful
fingers with steely force at the very base of my shaft and engulfed the purple
tip of my cock completely within the torrid recesses of her mouth. I shook a
little, as much from the wantonness of her actions, as the sensation of her
tongue.
Before long, my penis began to jerk and spit yet more precum in her mouth,
inspiring her to remind me of my place. "Hold...it...in" she commanded
haltingly, as though speaking to someone with a learning disability. As if to
prove her point, she deftly withdrew the knife from its holster and brought
the dull blade to bare against my hot, throbbing flesh. It was in fact, our
"toy" as she was fond of calling it. Something of my own manufacture, a
harmless product of my garage shop. I did my best to forget its benign nature,
thrilled at the idea of being in such a position at her mercy. "Yes, yes," I
gasped, somehow forcing the semen to subside for a moment.
Doubling her enthusiasm, she achieved an inhuman vacuum on the shimmering,
purple head of my organ, torturing me further with a tongue that danced and
flicked over the urgent surface. I was at the precipice, and she knew me so
well. "I'll do it," she hissed, summoning her most convincing fierce facade.
She began to saw the blade ever so subtly against my raging flesh. I trembled
a bit in reply, and she engulfed the entirety of my most sensitive bits with
her sultry mouth. That was enough, my body went rigid. My penis flared
impressively again and again as boiling semen raced up the shaft. She moaned
with aroused approval as the first salvo ejected with some force against her
velveteen cheek, and eagerly gulped down what followed.
As I attempted to recover my strength, supporting myself against her pillow
collection, she lapped the last of my offering from the head, occasionally
delving her tongue into my urethra to ensure nothing was missed. She giggled
softly as I shuddered from her ministrations, and when she was sure she'd had
the last of it, gazed softly into my eyes. "One day I really will take it,"
she purred, tracing our toy around the circumcision scar of my spent flesh.
* * * |
To The Victor Go the Spoils | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | A big stupid bull of a man is given the ultimate in CBT | ` TO THE VICTOR GO THE SPOILS `
"So you're just some big stupid bull with a giant dick and balls, huh?" he
says to me as I slowly come out of my stupor. I feel as if I have been
drugged... it must be that CBT that they were talking about.....
"Yeah!" I slur in response as I hang naked in front of him, shaking my head to
clear my wits, flexing my big chest & biceps trying to move, but I am bound at
the ankles & wrists to a rack, & I am stretched, spread-eagled & taut. I begin
to realize that I have an audience. One man, the man whose voice I had heard,
is admiring my body... his hands roam over my furry pecs & abs & I can feel my
cock stiffen in response. I think there are some other guys around as well --
and some dogs... but I don't see any of them. I can just hear their voices.
They are laughing & yapping away off in the darkness. Am I underground? I
faintly hear water dripping & echoing through the apparently vast chamber.
"Nothing special about you at all..." he mutters, his voice carrying an
uncanny, subterranean echo. Like we are in a cavern. "...except your giant
meat..."
I chuckle & flex my chest & arms some more, showing off my physique for him,
even though I am bound. His hands are on my thighs. Man I am horny! Not many
muscle guys are as endowed between the legs as I am. My erection is standing
out, straight from my body, all ten thick inches! And my balls are like eggs,
& hanging low in my scrotum. I am hanging a bit above him, angled at the
floor. But I am still riding the buzz of whatever drug I have just awakened
from, & he is beginning to fondle my package. I have never been so hard! I
vaguely feel a tightness at the base of my cock. I wonder what it is? I wonder
what he must think of my fuckin body hanging there! All 6 feet of me! 240 lbs
of solid, toned bull muscle, covered in hair, hanging, horny & helpless!
"I am strong & muscular!" I say. The CBT is sure giving me a buzz!
He stares at me for a moment before he speaks.
"What do you like to do?" he asks, almost seductively...
"CBT," I reply, smiling. My head is still spinning from the drug... I had
heard people talking about it before. Some dance club drug, I am sure.
Supposed to make sex so much better. If CBT is the drug I am on, I want more!
" To yourself or to other men?" he asks, still staring at me like a man in
heat.
I am confused, & uncertain of what he is talking about. My head begins to
swim...
"On yourself?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say. "Maybe i need another hit"
"Oh, you like it when other men bust your nuts and your cock, huh?" he asks.
He smacks my dick really hard with his open palm.
I gasp from the sudden sting. I stare at him dumbfounded for a moment.
"Oh, there's lots I could do to a cock that big. How do you like your cock
tortured?" He asks. He grasps my thick prick firmly in his hand for a few
moments, & I feel it stiffen further... I am SO fucking hard. My cock is
straining its full 10 inches. It feels like it is still getting harder!
"Big morons like you usually deserve to have their cocks tortured! What would
you do," he asks mockingly. "If some big dumbass bull had a hardon in front of
you? Act real nice, at first? Playing with and carressing that giant cock of
his?"
"Yeah!" I grunt, still maddeningly horny. His hands are still stroking my
turgid shaft. I can see Some of the other men now. God, I want to cum! The men
bring lots of equipment with them.... Large Propane burners, & a grill, I
think... Pots & pans, & numerous utensils.
"Yeah!" He smiles as one of the men hands him a trickling garden hose.
"And then , would you bathe it with running water?" He continues as he aims
the hose onto my cock. I dimly become aware of the large water heater in the
corner to which the hose seems to be attached. As the nice warm water sprays
over my crotch, stimulating my erection further, a man next to the water
heater begins turning knobs. Nearby, pots of water have been set to slowly
boil over large propane torches.
It is nice and soothing at first, but, suddenly the water becomes hotter &
hotter, and then suddenly colder and colder. I gasp out in the pain, & it gets
worse and worse! Soon scalding hot water is running over my prick, causing it
to steam and turn red!
"Damn!" I shout. The pain is exquisite, & I gasp to regain my breath.
Then suddenly the water from the hose gives an ice cold shock as it pours over
my big hot dick, making it shiver.... and then back to the hot water again!
Even hotter this time!!
"Shit!" I shout out in pain at the sudden heat.... Blasting at my cock now!
His gloved thumb is over the end of the hose's nozzle, directing the water's
flow & increasing its force. The man by the water heater furiously turns one
of the knobs, & my cock is blasted again with scalding hot water! All I can do
is open my mouth & scream in shocked surprise!
"Oh fuck!" I burst out, repeating it over & over.
My dick is harder than it has ever been in my life. Straining the confines of
its ten inch length -- but it is red and steaming now
"I cannot even touch your cock after that!" He exclaims. "Its scalding hot!
Still hard after all that punishment!"
But then the process starts again! Icy cold water is blasting my dick, but now
the cold water is over, & it is maddeningly hot -- then suddenly cold again!
By this time I am screaming pretty loudly, & trying to wiggle away, but it is
hopeless. I am spread out & bound up really tight. As the process continues,
one of the men comes forward with a propane burner on a cart, with a pot of
boiling water suspended over it. In the pot is a small ladel.
My tormentor places the hose over a hook on the side of the propane cart, &
takes up the ladel from the a pot of water that is now boiling over the fire.
He proceeds to let a thin line of the boiling water trace down the length of
my dick.
"Holy shit, man!" I blurt out from the shock. My dick gets even harder from
this -- its bobbing up and down as the water hits it. "oh, God, man!" I
shriek. Steam rises from my shaft & nuts, as he continues to ladel the boiling
water over my meat! The pain is horrendous! I am screaming hideously now!
"We are too far for anyone to hear." he leers at me.
"Oh god, please stop!" I stammer, but he continues. The ladel keeps pouring
the liquid over my manhood. After a while, my cock seems to be adjusting to
this. He takes my big dick at the base, & suddenly submerges the whole shaft
into the full pot of boiling water
"OH FUCK!" I shout out as the boiling water engulfs my meat. "Oh god, my
cock!"
I hear it sizzling , & steam rises from the pot. I can almost smell my cock
cooking in the water...
"Oh God, please!" I beg. He just smiles cruelly at me and holds my meat in the
water for a few more seconds. Then he pulls it out "Oh GOD!" I wail as I see
my dick. it is bright pink, & it stings all over -- even inside. A dull,
burning feeling permeates my member, & all I can do is gasp, but before I can
catch my breath, he shoves my cock back into the boiling pot!
"OH GOD!!!" I shout out in agony as he pushes my balls in too. "It
HUUURRRTS!!"
"Of course it does, dumbass!" He snarls at me. "But as I said, we're too far
away for anyone to hear you scream!"
And I scream a lot. Because this time, he does not pull my cock and balls out
right away
He keeps them in there for a nice long time. I shriek & struggle with my
bonds, desperately trying to free myself & flee, but I can't. And my cock is
practically smoldering now -- & so are my nuts!
"Oh fuck! Please stop! Please!!" I beg again. "Please stop this!"
"I dont think you want me to stop!" He shouts. "You love it! Feeling your cock
cook! You fucking love it , Dumbass!" He keeps my package in the boiling water
for quite a while longer, & I continue to scream. I can barely feel my cock
anymore, & what I can feel of it is nothing but a burning pain -- but my nuts
feel like they are on fire!
Then, after a long while, he pulls my meat out of the pot. I can see that my
cock has turned brown. It has certainly cooked a bit... Quite a bit.
"Oh fuck no... oh god no...." I babble through my tears.
"Well look at that!" He says in mock amazement, indicating my meat. "It will
probably never be the same again!
There is a long pause...
"Oh well, not that it matters anyway!" he says quickly, & pushes my cock back
into the pot.
"AAAAHHHHHHG-G-God!! my COCK!!" I wail in pain, fear, & humiliation! He pushes
the propane cart, & with it, the pot of water, closer to me, so that my full
length is more easily submerged. "OH PLEASE, STOP! oh GOD, NO!!"
This is it... this is really it! My cock is done for!
He holds my cock down in the water with the ladel as the fire reheats it! Soon
it is boiling again, and getting even hotter. I struggle & shriek in horror --
he is cooking my cock! I look down at it, & though I do not want to, I watch
it broil in the pot. Oh god! My cock is finished! It is being cooked, & I can
do nothing to stop it from happening. Tears are streaming down my face, & all
I can do is scream in agony.
"Its getting cooked!" He taunts me. "Oh my god, Im cooking your dick like a
big piece of sausage!" He laughs sadistically.
"Help!! SOMEONE! ANYONE!!" I shout out in desperation through my sobs.
"Go ahead! Cry! Cry you dumb shit!" He snarls at me again. "No one will come,
no one can hear you!"
"OH PLEASE STOP!!" I scream between my heaving sobs, & I am relieved when he
actually does...
"Oh all right, your dick is done -- in the pot anyways!" He says, mocking my
situation. He proceeds to take my cock out of the pot, & I can see that it is
pretty much cooked now. I can't feel it anymore, except at the base, & the
whole ten inch length is brown. My muscular body is racked by my heaving sobs.
I know my cock is done for, & I can see him, laughing at me still..
He removes the pot of boiling water & replaces it with something even worse! I
see a burning hot grill positioned beneath my cock! He takes my ten inch meat,
& he slams it down on the hot metal grill.
"Now I am really gonna cook this sausage!" He says as he presses my cock down
on the grill with the flat side of a large two-tined fork. Now I definitely
smell meat cooking. FUCK!
"Like the smell?" he asks sarcastically. "Delicious, isnt it? That smell is
your roasting cock, you dumb shit!"
OH FUCK! He is using the big fork to poke at my tender meat. The pointed tines
pierce the fatty brown skin of the sausage, but my cock is so far cooked that
I barely notice it., except for the fact that I have to watch the entire thing
happen! My drug addled mind is so horrified by what my eyes are showing it
that all I can do is scream, sob, & struggle to catch my breath.
"Don't be too upset, you big fool, its almost over!" He sneers. He jabs a meat
thermomater deep into my cock meat & I gasp from the now phantom sensation of
it. He continues to stab the meaty organ with his large metal fork, & I can
see its sizzling juices dribbling from the small holes.
"Tell me, are you going to miss your dick?
Even though I know my cock is cooked already, my mind can't comprehend what
that means. I don't even really register his question.
"W-w-why?" I manage to choke out between my sobs. "Why di -- d-- did you..."
but my question is quickly cut off as he slaps me hard across the face.
"Thats not what I asked you, dummy!" he shouts at me. His voice echoes through
the cavernous chamber, & my abdomen is rippling with my renewed sobs. He jabs
the fork into my darkened brown cock head, but then he pulls the fork out, and
then jabs the shaft repeatedly.
"Looks like your cock is ready!" He says, smiling. He puts a lid on the grill,
and then a cutting board beneath myr cock. I can see grill marks burned into
its length.
"No, fuck no. Please no!" I begin to beg again. I know what is coming next, as
he picks up a large knife. He places the blade of the knife at the base of my
giant burnt cock. But then he has second thoughts:
"Ya know," he begins, as though the idea has just occurred to him. "I love
sliced sausage, so I'll start at the head of your cock!" Then, to my unending
horror, he begins. With a quick, graceful slice, he cuts off half an inch of
my dick! I begin screaming more fiercely than ever, even though it is not
painful. FUCK! Oh God, I can't believe this is happening! I can hear the meat
sizzling still, & I begin to dry heave. He quickly slices off the next half
inch. Then another, and another, slicing it like summer sausage, pushing the
perfect slices off to the side of the cutting board...
Slowly he works his down my shaft, half inch by half inch, cutting it all
away. I am still shrieking out in horror. Now he is halfway through my cock.
He pauses for a moment & grips the remaining five inches in his hand. He holds
it up to show me -- so I can see my half cock. Tears stream down my face, & I
continue to cry & heave in my terror.
"Yeah, cry, cry like a little bitch!" he spits at me, & then he continues
cutting. More & more. I am forced to watch my famous, big dick dissapear for
good. He gets down to the very last inch. Eighteen slices of cock sausage are
laid out nicely on the cutting board. He reaches down between my legs & grabs
my big nuts, and with both hands, he squeezes them, hard, & my last load of
cum shoots out all over the cutting board. I stare at this mess, dumbfounded,
& with two quick slices, the last inch of my once proud penis is gone.
"Oh god! I gasp in horror. "My cock! My fucking cock!"
His laughter interrupts me: "What cock? You have no fucking cock left!"
He raises his first 2 fingers to his mouth, & whistles loudly. The sound
echoes in the cavern, & I hear the dogs bark in response as they run over...
"Oh god no!" I stammer as the hounds rush up to his side.
"Watch now," he proclaims, "while I feed some of these slices to the dogs..."
!!
my mind can't handle what is happening.
!!!
The dogs rush up to his side, & I can't help but look .
They beg and whimper for some meat.
He throws pieces to them.
They mindlessly eat the pieces of my cock like doggy treats....
!!!!!!!
...they dont even care that I lost my cock...
...but they love eating it!
They drool and slobber, chewing and spitting all over the place.
All I can do is sob
"Oh don't feel bad," he says to me, grabbing my jaw with one of his big hands.
"I saved the tip of your cock head for you!"
Just when my mind can't handle the situation becoming more hideous, it does.
He proceeds to force the small chunk of my own cock into my mouth!
"Take it, into your mouth!" he grins sadistically. "Taste it, taste your
cock!"
I gag & heave. I feel like I will vomit. My abdomen is a knotted ball..
"No, no!" He says, pushing the morsel back down into my throat. "No gagging!
Eat it, swallow it! Your cock -- what's left of it -- meaty, brown, grilled
sausage, neatly sliced!"
gulp
The morsel is gone.
"Oh, look how grateful the dogs are!" He exclaims as my head spins from the
horrors I have endured. "They are licking your wound where your cock used to
be!"
Indeed I can vaguely feel the tongues of the beasts lapping away at the hole
over my scrotum.
"I hope they don't try to eat your nuts..." he says. "We haven't totally
cooked them yet."
!!!
???
!!!!!
"Oh, I suppose you couldn't go through that again!" he says walking up to me.
He has several of the bits of my cock in his hands. He proceeds to let the
dogs smell them, & then he rubs the juicy meat all over my sack, making the
dogs even hungrier! They begin to lick & nip at them
"Oh, GOD NO!" I shriek out in horror. The dogs begin snapping at my sack more
forcefully, & my nuts are racked with pain. Soon they will leap forward, and
bite into them -- and take them -- OH GOD!! I see the five hairy mangrels, all
licking and nipping at my sweaty, meat scented sac. Before my horrified eyes,
I see them tearing my sac apart. My crotch again becomes a nexus of pain &
finally, my plump roasted nuts roll out of my shredded sac. The dogs mouths
snatch the two organs up! One of the dogs chomps away at my left testicle, & 2
others are fighting over my right. Soon my nuts are torn from between my
legs...
"Good dogs!" He says, praising their aggression. "Good dogs! Eat his nuts!"
And the dogs fight over the plump organs, but only two are victorius.
* * * |
Dogboy Parts 1 & 2 | GAY, TESTICLES | Small town punk gets come uppance - but more than a poor boy deserves. Part 2: more humiliation for Jed but tables turned on his maste | ` The kid had stepped out of line and had to be taught a lesson. The punk had
mouthed off to his elders and betters one too many times. Kyle knew that Jed
wouldn’t take notice of anything he said or did. Ultimately all Jed cared
about was the good opinion of his peers so any punishment Kyle devised had to
involve Jed’s peers somehow. Trapping Jed was easy. Oh, yeah he was wily and
savvy an all but no match for an intelligent man in his early forties who had
also seen a slice of live. `
Drugged by the effect of drinking a Corona laced with narcotic fed to him by a
pretty and bribable accomplice, Sherrie Jed lay like a rag doll in Kyle
muscled furry arms for a few moments before being loaded into the back of the
SUV. Back at base Kyle prepared his prey as four of his friends arrived at the
house. Prep meant ripping the gear off Jed’s tight 20-year-old body before
shaving his pubes clean to expose his stubby thick cock and his surprisingly
big balls.
Stripping off himself Kyle asserted his rights as the host to plant his thick
manhose in what he reckoned to be Jed’s virgin hole. No need for rubbers -
Kyle savoured the feel of Jed’s silky butt around his hairy cock. Barely two
minutes of ploughing the boycunt was enough to bring Kyle’s copious daddyjuice
to fill the boy’s hole.
The four other fuckers took their turn to screw the boy bareback. Each one
shouted encouragement to the other – but all taking care not to obscure the
view of the rape by the camera recording the scene for the benefit of Jed’s
mates. Only after taking five cocks did Jed begin to regain consciousness.
Still too groggy to resist – or to feel much pain – Jed allowed himself to be
led to a dais (still in full view of the camera) where he was positioned on
his hands and knees.
To support his sagging body a low stool was placed under his chest. At the
same time Kyle attached a pinprick ball-stretcher to his balls with the other
end firmly fixed to an iron- ring at one end of the dais. One of Kyle’s
friends then led his Doberman in as Kyle slapped Jed’s face to wake him up.
“What the fuck.” Mouthed Jed – never at a loss for a foul word – and usually
the same one.
“Shut up an listen punk” barked Kyle who then proceeded to explain the dilemma
Jed was in. If he crouched still the pain from the pinpricks would be kept to
a minimum. But if he stayed put he was vulnerable to Scout, Kyle’s dog, which
would fuck anything, given half a chance. Kyle was given Scout a hell lot more
than half a chance.
Kyle omitted to explain about the camera – he didn’t want to lose the natural
‘acting’ quality that he knew Jed was capable of! Jed tested the ball-
stretcher to see if he could evade the dog but the pain in his big balls told
him that evasion was out of the question. He shut his eyes as the dog’s member
plunged into his hole.
On camera it looked as if the boy was in ecstasy – willing the beast to mount
him the fucking was short but every second lovingly captured on film. After
the dog had spunked it was led away with a pat on it’s back from it’s owner
while it’s victim was left with slobber over his back and a stinking mixture
and man and dog sperm in his hole. When Jed’s balls were released from the
stretcher he just lay collapsed on the dais in a silent heap.
Once the men had dressed he was bundled into a blanket and put back in the
SUV. Jed felt a little sorry for the fucker who felt so small and helpless in
his big arms but soon put this thought out of his mind when Jed showed his
true colours by beginning to mouth-off again.
Jed was dumped by the roadside 100 yards from the home he shared with his
mother and two sisters. If Jed had thought he was being left alone to escape
his nightmare he was sorely mistaken. Kyle left no time on returning to his
house before running off literally hundred’s of still pics from the video
film. Shots of the men were kept just for the guys personal collection but
pics showing Jed’s rape by Scout were printed and then dropped all over town
before sun up.
The fall-out from the night’s event began soon the night morning when stones
were hurled through Jed’ bedroom window to the accompaniment of woofs from the
local kids. Jed just lay there among the shattered glass not willing to
believe the rape and now this. His mom was already out at work and his sisters
at school so Jed was left alone in the house
After half a day pacing up and down the small house (tormented all the while
by the thought of finally being rejected by the whole town) Jed finally
decided to quit the house before he had to face his family, Guys who used to
be his best pals now shouted after him or crouched down on all fours shaking
their butts in the air as if they had a tail.
By the time he reached the edge of town Jed was shaking from head to toe
himself. When he came across Kyle lounging across the hood of his SUV he was
almost relieved. He was someone who at least wasn’t shouting abuse at him. In
fact Kyle was smiling benignly at Jed beckoning him with his eyes. “Learned
your lesson, son?” Called Kyle. In response Jed started to break down sobbing
and allowed the hunk of a man to hold him. Without another word being spoken
Kyle drove Jed home where he undressed them both. Hugged close by Kyle Jed
felt safe with his face buried in the man’s thick chest of fur and the hurt in
his hole and his mind seemed to ebb away. But it was not to last.
Kyle roughly released the boy and dragging out back to the porch efficiently
tied him to the post. “Now these son just get in the way and boys don’t need
these hangers,” Kyle growled before disappearing into the kitchen. When he
emerged he was carrying a kitchen knife, which he swiftly plunged in the
crease between Jed’s big balls. Ignoring Jed’s screams Kyle continued
filleting the sac, releasing both eggs and slicing through the cords that kept
them to Jed’s body.
He went back to the kitchen for the hot iron left on the stove for the purpose
of sealing the now empty sac shut. Jed was now out of it. Kyle then hosed the
blood and stuff off Jed’s body and off the porch which barely roused Jed who
was soon put to sleep in Scout’ kennel. Scout was left out in the yard, as
Kyle didn’t want the dog to fuck the dogboy before the wound had healed. In a
couple of days however…
Dog Boy, Part 2: Every dog has it’s day
For two days Jed had lain dazed and in pain on the kennel floor while Scout
poked his snout through the mesh of the kennel yard sniffing Jed’s butt in the
hope on some more doggie action.
At about eight that morning Kyle returned from his daily jog. Clad just in a
pair of faded running shorts and sneakers, Kyle’s massive 46” furry, chest
heaved as he fought to catch his breath. It wasn’t that he wasn’t fit – Kyle’s
dedication to physical exercise showed in the awesome definition in his body –
it was just that he enjoyed pushing himself to the limit. As Kyle regained his
breath he saw Jed look mournfully up at him. The sad look on the nut less
boy’s face caused a brief pang of guilt to rise in Kyle but this was swiftly
replaced by the desire to exercise his power over the freshly made eunuch.
Stepping inside the house to answer a call of nature Kyle quickly returned and
entered the kennel. Yanking down his shorts to reveal his jock and a shit-
smeared ass crack Kyle pushed the boy on his back and squatted over his face.
“Lick me clean, boy” ordered Kyle. Jed was powerless to resist the powerful
hulk and started tonguing Kyle’s hairy ass crack clean of shit. “Get right
inside my hole” barked Kyle. Within seconds Kyle started moaning as Jed’s
small, warm tongue darted inside his shitter. As Kyle gave in to the soft,
humid ministrations of Jed’s tongue he let go a light stream of piss over the
boy’s chest and taut stomach.
Well pleased by his tongue bath Kyle started to stroke his massive cock to its
full ten inches. Briefly he considered ploughing Jed’s hole but then
remembering how the boy had served his mutt, Scout two days before he decided
against sharing a hole with his own dog. Kyle decided that he would give his
friend Marc (one of the guys who had gang-raped Jed earlier) a call. Marc was
just as happy to take Kyle’s cock inside him as screwing a twink like Jed.
Kyle returned to the house to call Marc up after letting Scout back into the
kennel to sniff Jed.
An hour later Kyle was hard at lifting his weights on the deck of his porch
when he heard the sound of a truck pull alongside the house. Though he was
just in his jock and his work boots Kyle made no effort to cover up for Marc.
Instead he started stroking his cock in the expectation of a long raw fuck in
the hot hole of his buddy. By the time that he realised that he was getting a
visit friend the local police his cock was jutting straight out of the top of
his stained jock.
Kyle registered disappointment before giving way to the realisation that he
was in deep shit for being caught with a neutered boy in his custody. His cock
deflated back down into his jock though the copious amounts of leaking precum
showing through the cotton testified to his recent arousal.
The younger of the two cops would normally have got Kyle hard had it not been
for the predicament Kyle now found himself. The guy was in his mid 20s; about
5’10 with a light muscular frame and blessed with Latin good looks. His older
colleague was just plain ugly looking and seriously gone to fat .He commanded
attention however as soon as he opened his mouth and demanded to know the
whereabouts of Jed who he had reason to believe was being held at Kyle’s home
having been reported missing for two days.
Kyle had by now recovered enough of his composure to point in the direction of
the doghouse where Jed was cowering in a corner after his latest humiliation.
Jack, the older cop, marched up to the kennel ready to give some reassurance
to the terrified boy when he suddenly stepped back in horror at the fresh
wound below the naked boy’s limp dick.
“What the fuck.” Jack finally managed before quickly composing himself and
walking inside the kennel to gently lead the ruined boy into the house. He was
only able to only speak to his colleague after re-emerging from the house some
ten minutes later. “Paul, I think we’re going to deal with this situation
ourselves. The courts never gonna give this…freak what he deserves.”
With that Jack pulled a pair of cuffs on to Kyle’s wrists and raised them
roughly to the low roof of the porch. Because of his height Kyle’s arms could
reach up comfortably – until Jack kicked his legs apart that is. He then
ordered Paul to remove his belt and start work on Kyle’s butt. “Give him a 100
to start with,” barked the older cop.
After almost 50 strokes’ across Kyle’s hairy butt mounds the straps of his
jock had given way and Paul was sweating up a storm. Jack allowed Paul to
remove his shirt (thus revealing his tightly muscled torso coated in a fine
layer of jet-black man fur. By the time Paul reached the 100 mark Kyle’s
sphincter had given way and shit was running down his ass and legs The belt
had spread the shit over his back and butt. Jack then released the cuffs from
the roof and let Kyle collapse to the floor. “Reckon we should clean him up a
little.” Said Jack as he undid the zip of his fly to let out a long arc of
deep yellow piss over the prostrate man. The half naked younger man did the
same with his slender dark cock so that in the end Kyle’s body was clean of
shit.
The two cops then walked a short distance away so they could plan the final
phase of Kyle’s punishment. They had to quickly revise their plans however
when Marc finally appeared following Kyle’s request for some ass earlier that
day. Marc (frustrated by the fact that his truck had failed to start that
morning) was dressed in army shorts and black boots and ready was his
ploughing. He was quickly apprised of the situation, however, by the older
cop. Kyle could see Marc’s look of horror first at the news at Jed’s gelding
and then at what the two cops had planned for Kyle. Still Marc had no option
other than to go along with the armed cops designs.
Marc dutifully dropped his shorts and submitted to an anal inspection by
Jack’s nightstick before proceeding with the plan. The same nightstick, which
was now coated with Marc’s dung, was first fed into Kyle’s mouth then into his
butt as he lay back on the floor of the deck. Marc then put his hard six
inches in Kyle’s manhole before quickly cumin (it wasn’t often that Marc got
to top Kyle but this was one order the hungry bottom couldn’t refuse). He then
proceeded to use the lube from his cock to ease his hand into Kyle’s manhole.
The first four fingers went in with remarkable ease – though this wasn’t
really a surprise given the working over Kyle had had from Paul’s belt. The
thumb encountered greater resistance at first. Impatient for the task to be
completed Jack helped shove Marc’s whole hand into Kyle ignoring the protests
from both men.
Soon the task was accomplished and Kyle was being filled by Marc’s hand. The
final act was at hand. Paul reinserted the nightstick into Marc’s willing hole
while Jack stood over Marc’s head and viewed Kyle’s doomed balls.
“Now the bit we forgot to tell you about, son is that you will geld this man
to save us the bother. Take his nuts in your mouth and listen by my further
instructions.”
Marc did as he was commanded though the tears in his eyes made it difficult
for him to see. The dense hair on Kyle’s bollocks plus their sheer size made
it difficult for Marc to accommodate them in his mouth even despite his skills
as a greedy sucker. Once Marc’s lips were around his friend’s balls Jack reach
with his fingers around the base of Kyle’s nuts and yanked them up towards
Marc’s face. He ordered Marc to stretch the balls up with his mouth at the
same time till they appeared to be at breaking point.
Instinctively Kyle’s cock grew thick and long as a result of the torture.
“Bite them off now, son” commanded Jack as he continued to yank Kyle’s orbs up
with one hand and forced the other down on Marc’s head. Unable to do as he was
told Marc found that the job was done for him as his jaws were forced together
by the cop’s great maws. He bit through the taut skin of Kyle’s hangers and
tasted heaven. At the same time Marc began to heave at the very thought of
what he was being forced to do to his friend/lover. He found his head pushed
to one side as Jack grabbed the half severed testes and yanked them clean of
Kyle’s body. The last stream of Kyle’s sperm shot out of Kyle’s cock onto
Marc’s face and his butt ejected his hand. The nightstick was removed from his
aching hole and the two cops withdrew leaving Marc with blood in his mouth and
ass and Kyle dead to the world.
* * * |
Christine plays poker | clitoridectomy | Christine wins her first prize at poker | Christine plays poker
It was strange to be in a western city again. Christine liked the ease of
movement, but she realised she needed new clothes. Her long robes and dresses
were out of place.
At first she bought some jeans, T shirts and sneakers. The tight knickers and
jeans evoked feelings she found difficult to cope with. She abandoned them for
light knee length frocks with a slip underneath. It was summer, so she wore
sandals.
She found a small apartment and began her search for Philomena. This proved
frustrating in more ways than one. She found being surrounded by women who
took their clitorises for granted gave rise to an intense physical frustration
she had not felt for some time. No amount of fantasising could reduce the
oppression. She was often wet, but putting her hands between her legs was
useless. She was going to have to do something.
A BDSM group offered her the opportunity she was looking for. She joined and
entered the club the night after. It was raining lightly, so she wore a light
raincoat over her frock and put on solid shoes.
On arrival she put her coat and bag of tricks on the clothes stand. She then
looked to see what the action was. There were plenty of tatooed and pierced
bodies around. She ignored the men and the mixed couples and looked for women
either singly or in groups.
Three had just sat down to play poker. There was a spare chair. One of the
women, with jet black hair in spikes and a wide studded waistband, stood up
and yelled, ‘Is there a fourth for strip poker!’
Christine approached.
‘Just sit down.’ Said the black haired woman.
“What are the rules?’ asked Christine.
‘You wager your clothing. Everytime you lose, you lose an item of clothing.
You can raise the stakes by offering more items.’
‘And when it’s all gone?’
‘Then you do forfeits.’
‘What kind of forfeits?’
‘Just what the winner wants. Are you in?’
This offered potential. Christine sat down.
She had not played poker before and had to ask about the values of cards, and
when to pick up cards. The three other women smiled.
The first round went Christine’s way. She had beginners luck with a paid of
sevens. She had held on and all had wagered both shoes. She kept hers.
However, the next round, she knew she had a bad hand, but only lost one shoe.
The next went in the following hand.
As the game progressed, she could see she was at a disadvantage in clothes.
The others had more of them on. The spikey haired one had the belt, trousers,
a top, a bra and she guessed socks and knickers.
The bottle blond to her left was in a skirt and a top without a bra, but had
stockings and suspender belt as well as knickers. The aburn haired woman
opposite had a blouse, a bra, a skirt and fishnet tights.
She won the next round. The blond lost a stocking and spikey hair her belt.
Christine was down to her slip.
Spikey said, ‘Soon you’ll be down to your knickers.’
Christine straightened up looked her in the eye and said, “I don’t wear them.’
‘So it will the all together!’
Auburn hair took the next hand. The blond lost the other stocking and spikey
hair her top. Christine took off her slip and finished up naked, except for
the pendant round her neck.
The group were now attracting an audience.
Auburn hair said to Christine, ‘My name’s Fiona, I will extract a forfeit next
time! Normally I make the losers shave, but you have nothing to shave off. We
cannot even do much with your breasts. You have such a boyish body. I think we
shall have to explore you most intimately.’
Christine continued to twist the pendant. She kept her thighs tightly
together. She could not let them see she had nothing between her labia. She
went for double or quits.
‘I’ll wager my clitoris against all your clothes!’
The room hushed.
Fiona smiled and said, ‘I get to take it home, with or without you?’
‘Whoever wins gets to take it home in whatever manner they want.’
“OK, lets deal, you others in?’
The cards were dealt. Christine saw a mediocre hand.
Fiona looked at her, ‘There’s no backing out now!’
Christine has for two cards. The others asked for one or two.
‘Let’s see,’ said Fiona. She put down Queen high. The blonde put down a pair
of sevens, spikey hair put down a pair of Jacks.
Everyone waited on Christine. She smiled and put down three fours.
‘Now strip!’
The other three stripped off completely. Spikey hair had medium sized breasts
with tattoos around the nipples. Her public hair was dark. The blond’s was too
between tight hips. Fiona took off her top and bra and revealed large breasts,
which swung outwards. She had mid brown public hair.
Christine said, ‘Same wager?’
The blonde asked, ‘What do you mean?’
‘We all wager our clitorises on the cards. Winner takes all.’
Spikey hair said, ‘I’m out.’
‘Me too,’ said the blonde.
Christine looked at the auburn haired woman, who was sitting back in the
chair. She parted her legs and said, ‘Can I see what’s on offer.’
“This is poker,’ Christine replied, ‘you can see it if you win.’ She kept her
legs tightly together. Fiona left her thighs parted. She looked confident.
Christine heard Spikey Hair say to the blonde, ‘My money is on Fiona. She wins
most of the hands.’
‘And extracts the most excruciating forfeits,’ replied the blonde, ‘but this
will be the limit. I’d love to see her lose.’
A tall woman, with broad shoulders and large breasts came up behind Fiona. She
had a round face with blue eyes and short dark hair. ‘Who wants to place side
bets?’ she announced. I’m putting $50 on Fiona to lose hers.’ With that she
bent over the auburn haired woman and squeezed her nipples. ‘These will soon
be all you have to play with.’
Fiona whacked her away. The side bets soon built up. They ran two to one in
favour of Fiona. Alix, the tall woman, acted as banker.
They each got five cards. Fiona leaned back, smiled, and parted her legs
further, liftng one foot to rest on one of the vacant chairs. Christine
studied her hand. It was not good. She thought, ‘I’ll only be losing my
locket.’ But the excitement of being so close to one of her goals made her
concentrate on the cards. There were no pictures, and no two of a kind, but
she did have four hearts, four, five, seven and eight. She asked for one card.
Fiona asked for two. She got them and smiled again. “Want to put your nipples
into the equation as well?’ she asked.
Christine asked for another card. Fiona followed suit.
‘Are you sure that you want to continue?’ Fiona asked again, ‘Or perhaps ask
me to choose another forfeit?’
‘No,’ said Christine, ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.
Fiona reveled ace, king, queen and jack, but in different suites.
The others waited on Christine.
She laid the running flush of five cards on the table.
Fiona’s brown eyes widened. She put her foot down and closed her legs. She put
her hands in her lap.
Alix asked, ‘How do you want to do this?’
‘On the table would be best. Everyone can watch.’
Christine trotted off to get her bag. She returned and found Fiona sat on the
table. She looked stunned. ‘Are you really going to do this?’ she asked.
‘You have to honour your bets.’
Christine openned her bag and looked round.
‘I’ll need at least three of you to hold her still.’
Alix grabbed Fiona’s arms and pulled her across the table. The still naked
spikey haired woman and the blonde grabbed her knees and held them. Spikey
looked between Fiona’s legs and said, ‘I knew she wasn’t really auburn.’
Christine took out a canister of shaving foam and sprayed between the woman’s
legs. She then took out a cut throat razor and began to take off her public
hair. She was very thorough parting the labia to ensure a totally smooth
pussy.
Christine squeezed the woman’s clitoris between the thumb and forefinger of
her left hand. She moved them around it to make sure it was fully erect.
‘Everyone take a last look,’ she said as she stepped back. Two spectators came
up and gave it a pinch.
She then moved back parting the labia and putting the little wire ring at the
end of her instrument over the clitoris. She pulled the clitoris through it.
Fiona winced and tried to pull her hips away, but she could not succeed. The
wire ring was at the base of the clitoris. Christine tightened it so that it
began to make an impression. She then stopped.
‘Anyone want to give her a last orgasm?’
There was silence. Fiona had not been popular.
Alix said, ‘Just do it!’
Christine twisted the handle of the instrument. The wire contract and severed
the clitoris. Fiona bucked. Christine picked it up and put it in a little
container, which she then put in her bag.
The women holding Fiona let her go and another woman came along with bandages
to staunch the bleeding
Christine was exhilirated. However, she was also still naked and needed to go
home. ‘Can I have my clothes back?’ she asked.
Spikey said, ‘Oh no, you lost them and did not try to win them back. It’s off
home in the nude for you.’
‘Good job I came in my raincoat.’
Alix intervened, ‘Let her have the shoes back! The rest can go to charity.’
Christine picked up her shoes and walked naked with her bag to put on her
raincoat. She then put on her shoes.
Alix said, ‘Would you like a lift?’
Christine said, ‘Do you know where I live?’
‘No, but after that display you should be driven home.’
* * * |
The Party | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | Story of a man who suddenly finds himself at a dinner party where he becomes part of the entertainment. His cock and balls are removed to the delight of the guests. | I awoke from my dream with a start. I was at first confused by
waking up in bed when I could not recall going to bed. Vaguely I
could hear music and laughter. Where was I and why am I in bed.
I threw back the covers and moved to a window. Looking out I saw
that I was in a room far up from the beach. Shrugging I turned to
the door which I couod tell by the outline of light around it. The
hall light was apparently still on. Moving closer, I turned the
knob
and opened the door. The hall was lit by low-level lighting enough
to see but not very bright. I began to step out when I noticed
that I
was completely naked. Stepping back into the room, I found the
lights and turned them on. My clothes were nowhere to be seen. I
walked to the closet and opened the door. Everything was neatly
hung inside. I chose a robe since I didn’t recognize anything
else.
Outside the closet I found a dresser and opening the top drawer, I
found shorts neatly folded. How odd! They seemed to be in a range
of sizes. I selected a pair that fit me and slipped them on. Then
I
returned to the door and went out into the hall.
The music was loudere now and occasionally I heard a shout mixed
with the laughter of many people. Moving quickly down the hall, I
turned to face a long staircase. Looking down I saw what appeared
to be a group of about 50-60 people in various stages of dress or
undress. Some were dancing while others simple stood around
talking. I slowly descended the stairs and as I did, a tall and
quite
attractive woman walked quickly to the foot of the stairs. She
smiled and greeted me by name. “How nice that you are awake.”
I took her hand and shook it. “Come you must meet the others
before the show starts.” And she led me into the crowd. Again,
through the music, I could hear muffled shouting or was it screams.
I listed but heard nothing as I was led along. The woman stopped at
a small group of men and women who were completely naked. As
she introduced me to them, I happened to look down their bodies
and noted with shock that one of the men had no cock or balls. In
fact, he was smooth as his female escort. For some reason this
aroused me. I nodded at each person as I was introduced and shook
their offered hands.
One couple began to chat with me as the others began moving off
until only the three of us stood together. “Well, I’m glad you
could
make it. This is going to be a very entertaining evening,” said the
woman. “Oh, yes, it certainly will be,” agreed the man.
I shook my head and said, “I hope you won’t think badly of me but I
am very confused. I have no idea how I got here and I don’t even
know where here is.”
The couple smiled at me and nodded. “You are at the Heywood
estate located just outside Santa Barbara, California,” explained
the
man as though that would mean anything to me.
“I’m still not sure why I’d wake up here,” I said.
“You mean you have no recollection of how you got here?” said the
woman in amazement.
“Not a clue,” I replied trying to smile.
We stood for a moment in silence as the music reached a creshendo
and again I could hear a cry from somewhere in the house. A long
drawn out cry.
“What was the sound,” I asked. “It sounded like a cry or a scream.”
“It was,” said the woman matter of factly. “Part of the
entertainment at the Heywood estate is to torture a victim purchased
for that purpose.”
“What did you say?” I asked incredulously. “You mean some poor
guy is being hurt for the fun of this crowd?”
“Why yes,” said the man. “Only it’s not a man; it’s a woman. The
man will be put on display shortly.” then he smiled and looked
briefly at the woman with him.
Now I could distinctly, a long howl which I recognized as pain.
“But we are being such poor hosts. Would you like to watch the
entertainment?” said the woman taking my arm. “Come on. It’s
this way.” The man moved to my other side and took my arm. I
walked albeit unwillingly between them as they kept up a cheerful
banter while leading me to the kitchen. As we got closer I could
hear the muffled screams partially drowned out by the music.
As we entered the kitchen, it was impossible to see anything
because of the crowd of people there. Now the shrieks were
continuous. Occasionally some applauded. The woman began
touching people on the shoulder and asking for them to make way.
They parted for us to see what was going on.
A lovely woman lay spread eagle on a large wooden table. Her
arms were pulled above her head and her hands were nailed to the
table. A naked man and a woman stood beside her. The woman
blocked my view at first so I couldn’t see what they were doing but
suddenly the woman on the table strained and bucked. Several
watchers shouted in encouragement as the woman moved aside to
carry a rod to the kitchen range where she placed it on a larger
burner. Now I could see what was happening.
The man was carefully removing what appeared to be a fish hook
from a container. He took the woman’s nipple with a pair of pliers
and pulled it out from her body stretching it over an inch in
length.
The woman shrieked as he pulled it then tiled her head back as the
man pushed the hook through her extended nipple. Several other
hooks had already been inserted. The naked woman returned from
the range carrying a rod glowing a dull red. She carefully placed
it
on a metal holder as she began to tie strings to the hooks in the
woman’s nipples.
The woman next to me whispered, “This woman on the table is one
of our guests and these are her hosts. They won the right to do
this
to her and she agreed to let them. We usually buy our guests from a
dealer but this woman decided she wanted to experience the
entertainment first hand.”
The male host was busy tying the strings to a chain dangling from
the ceiling. When both had finished, the man pushed a button, a
hum eminated from the ceiling and the strings began to rise. As the
strings were pulled up they began to tighten on the hooks in the
nipples. The strings continued to be tighted and then pulled the
nipples. As the strings pulled the nipples higher, the woman on the
table began to shriek and buck on the table. As they tighted
futher,
the first hook, ripped free of her nipple and one by one the others
pulled out as well. The woman dropped back to the table with a
thud and hooks dangle above her with bits of torn flesh still
embedded in them. The naked host standing beside her grabbed the
hot iron and quickly jammed it against the torn nipples. A sizzle
sounded as the iron cauterized the torn nipples and a smell of
cooking flesh filled the room. The guest screamed as the iron
seared her flesh. Some in the audience sighed with pleasure at such
a sight.
To my amazement I could not take my eyes from the woman nailed
to the table. Suddelnly I felt a hand massaging my crotch. I
looked
down to see the woman had opened my robe and reached into my
shorts. I looked at her and noticed she was smiling. “I see you
enjoyed this entertainment,” she said. I simply stood there as she
fondled my rigid cock.
I hardly noticed that the woman was removed from the table and
lead away. I did see that many were taking her hands and
nurmuring something in her ears. She was smiling!
“Everybody,” shouted the woman who was fondling my cock. “I
want to introduce our next entertainment. With that she turned to
me and pushed me forward. “He’s quite hard from watching our
last guest. And I think he’s ready for to entertain us.” The crowd
began to applaud.
I felt the robe being removed and I made no effort to stop it. The
man and the woman who had led me to the kitchen now and led me
to the table. The man took a pair of scissors laying on the table
and
cut my shorts off. The woman indicated that I should get onto the
table.
Suddenly I remembered. I remembered being taken from my tour
and spirited off to a prizon-like building where I spent a long time
in sessions brainwashing me and preparing me to be a victim. With
that I sighed as I lay back on the table and extended my arms above
my head. My hosts picked up hammers and large nails. Before I
could resist, each placed the sharp point of the nail against my
palm
and slammed the nail through my flesh and with two more swift
blows drove the nails into the wood. I screamed as they pounded
the nails home. Then my naked hosts smiled and chatted as they
discussed what they would do to me first.
I looked at the man and asked, “can I make a request?”
“Of course, we like it when the gues participates. What do you
want first?
I swallowed and smiled. “Could you castrate me first?”
“bravo!” said the woman. “I love to take a man’s penis. Especially
this one. It’s so hard and long. Do you have a preference as to
how
we cut it off?”
“What are my choices?” I asked.
The man smiled and held up a saw, a carving knife, a pair of garden
shears, a linoleum knife and a rather strange-looking box. “What’s
the box?” I asked. “It’s the latest device in castration. We
clamp it
around your cock, push a rod down your hole and push a button on
the side. A set of rotating blades takes your cock off very
neatly.
I’d like to recommend it as I have no experience with it.”
“Have you done this before?” I asked.
“Oh yes, several times but with the shears and linoleum knife. The
box leaves almost no penis at all. Usually my wife does the
castration and this would be my first with the box.”
“Then let’s use the box,” I said. The man smiled and moved closer
to put the box around my cock. Once in pesition, he moved the two
halves together and closed them with a click. The woman handed
him a narrow rod which he placed in my hole and gently began to
force it in. At one point it met resistance and he gripped my cock
and pushed harder. I could feel the rod driving in and stiffled a
shriek. Then he stopped pushing and released my cock. “How’s
that feel,” he asked? I moaned a reply.
The man leaned over and said he was about to press the button. I
nodded and I heard a dull snap. Then I heard the scraping of the
blades as they whirled and bit into my cock. Then the pain struck
and I cried out in spite of myself. Through a veil of red pain I
watched as the man lifted my severed penis from my body. His
wife quickly moved forward with the glowing iron. And pressed it
against my crotch. Again I felt the pain and bucked my body.
Vaguely I could hear the crowd’s applause.
The woman walked up to me and smiled. “The crowd loves you,
hon. You’re a fantastic guest.”
As I lay gasping and panting on the table, the man said, “Any other
requests or shall we just go to work on our own?”
“Please do whatever you want,” I answered. I heard the gentle hum
and suddenly remembed the hooks. The man and woman chatted
quietly as they went about their work disentangling them from the
strings. When they reached my chest, each of them picked up a
pliers and grabbed my nipples. I shrieked as the plieres bit into
my
fless and they stretch my aching nipples. They slowly began forcing
hooks through my nipples and each left a mark as I watched the
point emerge out the other side. With each insersion they both
watched my face for emotion. I stared in fascination as each hook
pushed through and popped out the other side. Although I could
feel the pressure, I felt almost no pain. Just pleasure at being
able
to serve these people with my body. Finished, the woman pushed a
button and I heard the motor winding the strings back up. I felt
the
hooks as they bit into my flesh and felt them pulled raising my body
from the table. In a moment, they had reached their full extend and
I heard my flesh tearing as the hooks pulled free. My boyd flopped
back onto the table and I watched as the man pushed the cauterizing
hot iron against my torn nipples. I shreiked in pain and in
pleasure
as again the smell of cooking flesh filled room.
The woman leaned over me and said, “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” I repleid.
“Only one more step and we’ll let you rest,” she said patting my
head.
“My balls?” I asked.
“Yes, your balls. It will take a moment to get things ready,” she
said. “Would you like a drink of water?” “Suire,” I answered. She
brought me a tall glass of water as her husband spread my legs
wider and began working between my spread legs. I drank down
the water as I felt his hands tying something around my balls.
The woman told me to raise my ass and she placed a woden device
under my butt to raise my crotch higher. “There’s a block under
your balls so it will be easier to chop them off when we cut them,”
she said matter of factly. I nodded.
Now the man was slowly pulling on a cord tied to my balls. It was
easy to watch with no cock in the way. He pulled them until I
thought they’d burst. Then he nodded to his wife..
“We’re ready when you are,” the man said to me. “Ok, do it,” I
answered.
I watched as the woman lifted a meat cleaver and brough it down on
my balls which had been placed on a carving board. Again the
smell of cooking meat filled the room and I watched as smoke rose
from my damaged crotch. Once again the pain filled my world as I
relished the agony that had pleased my audience. I heard applause
again and the man and woman approached with crowbars. A
moment later I felt the nails being removed from my hands.
They I was lifted from the table and helped to stand. I saw my cock
and balls laying in a bloody pool on the counter with several other
sets of genitals. Following my gaze, my host said, “We’ve had
several men on the table tonight and even a few volunteers from the
audience. Later we’ll cook them up for appetizers.
As I walked from the room, I heard many compliments on my
wonderful castration and how much many men envied me. The
woman said, “We’ll let you rest for awhile then you’ll be back for
the grand finale. I said nothing but looked at her. “You’re the
main
couse tonight. I hope you will enjoy being cooked on the spit. I
couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being trussed up and
placed over a slow flame. My hosts led me from the room.
In the background I could hear a woman’s voice introducing the
next guest. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a very young man or
possibly a boy. How I envied what was about to happen to him.
The crowd applauded. |
The Last of the Pharaohs (5 of 6) | WARNING, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | A 6-chapter story, based on historical speculation, about the fate of the last of the Egyptian Pharaohs. | ` THE LAST OF THE PHARAOHS`
By Pueros
Chapter V – Pursuits
“….(Octavian) had the sarcophagus containing Alexander the Great’s mummy
removed from the mausoleum at Alexandria and, after a long look at its
features, showed his veneration by crowning the head with a golden diadem and
strewing flowers on the trunk. When asked : “Would you now like to visit the
mausoleums of the Ptolemies?” he replied “I came to see a king, not a row of
corpses!”’
\- Suetonius (‘The Twelve Caesars’, 18.1)
(A certain top Rugby Union stadium, England, almost 2032 years later, April
2002 AD)
The national schools under-15 cup-final was deep into second-half injury time,
with the referee intending to blow his whistle to denote the end of the
pursuit at the next stoppage in line with the Laws of the Game.
Chris was a handsome, brown haired and eyed boy, whose team, from a certain
top English public school, was currently trailing the opposition by six
points. Playing as his side’s speedy full-back, he had the oval Rugby Union
ball in his hands, as he launched a desperate last-gasp attack from deep
within his own half of the long, broad playing field, which was flanked by
full stands of noisy spectators.
Chris engineered a clever interchange of passes with his outside centre,
interspersed with a clever wiggle of his delightful slim hips to wrong-foot
and elude an opponent intent on tackling him, to set up a chance for his
extremely fast left wing, who also happened to be his best friend. The latter
boy was called ‘Jack’ by his chums, although this was not his real name, being
instead an acronym of his three forenames and surname.
Many fellow pupils were very jealous of Chris. Not only was he himself
gorgeous, sufficiently so to be the subject of crushes by a number of other
boarders, but also was intimate with the boy whom the majority considered to
be the most beautiful in their prestigious school, where discrete homosexual
couplings were not uncommon.
Jack’s stunning face, adorned, apparently incongruously given his nationality,
by straight silky fair hair and light blue eyes, and immaculate body,
seemingly permanently lightly tanned all over, although this was his natural
coloration, were ardently lusted after by many. The boy actually knew this
because he had been compelled diplomatically to decline invitations, some
blatantly pursued, to become intimate with other, generally older pupils. He
had been more than happy to have just one very best friend, with whom he
shared a study bedroom, as well as his burgeoning sex-life.
An idiosyncrasy of age segregation in English Rugby Union is that most players
in an under-15 team are actually 15, and Chris and Jack were no exceptions. As
far as the former was concerned, this fact appeared confirmed by the display
of the same number on his back, whilst he skilfully created an overlap on the
left wing for the latter to try to exploit.
Jack, who sported the number 11, caught his best friend’s excellent long pass
and raced down the left touch-line, leaving most opponents in futile pursuit.
Half of the large watching crowd, which mainly comprised fellow pupils,
teachers and parents of the players, began to yell in eager anticipation and
support of the move. However, the speedy young winger still had one more major
obstacle to overcome before he could score. Running in to grab him was the
large, tall, fierce opposition full-back, who had so far been the other
school’s man-of-the-match, so well had he defended his line previously,
delivering many crunching and often painful tackles in the process.
Nevertheless, Jack, who looked dangerously diminutive in comparison to his
immediate adversary, did not just possess speed in his armoury. The boy also
possessed, amongst other attributes, a beautiful, disguised shimmying side-
step, which he now executed to perfection.
Jack’s floundering opponent still almost grabbed him with a desperately
flailing arm, as the winger’s superb manoeuvre brought the full-back crashing
to the ground without his target in his clutches. However, the number 11’s
shorts, which were deliberately tight and brief to evade such capture, slipped
from the grasp of the defender.
Half of the crowd cheered in ecstatic celebration, as the winger ran on to
touch the ball down on the grass, as near to the posts as possible. However,
although no one had now prevented Jack from scoring a try, worth five points,
some covering opposition forwards were an effective barrier to a direct dash
to the middle to make easier the subsequent attempted conversion, worth
another two points. The kicking opportunity created, in line with where the
ball was ultimately grounded and difficult in any circumstances, would, if
successful, win the game and the national cup.
Chris was the first on the scene to congratulate Jack on his score, doing so
by patting him on the back, having been prevented by the public nature of the
occasion from doing what he really wanted to do, namely kiss his best friend
fulsomely on the lips. The scoring winger, recognising that the skill of the
full-back had created the opportunity, returned the compliment, before handing
the ball to his chum, who was also the team kicker.
“How long to go, Sir?” Chris asked of the referee, as he teed up the ball for
his conversion. “This is the last play of the game,” the official, one of the
most senior in England, answered.
Although the conversion would be considered awkward anyway, the fact that
victory or defeat depended upon its success or failure naturally added to the
difficulty, as well as the tension in the now suddenly hushed stadium. Chris,
generally a very calm and gifted kicker, felt unusually anxious, as he lined
his task up, with visions of missing and being later recalled in history as
the boy who lost the cup for his school racing through his fearful mind. Given
such nerves and fright, failure might have been probable if Jack had not
perceptively sensed his best friend’s worry.
As Chris contemplated his kick, Jack approached and, in an innocent gesture of
encouragement as far as the crowd was concerned, tapped his best friend on his
pert bottom, the delicious contours of which were nicely highlighted by his
own tight shorts. “Just try your best,” the young winger whispered, “as it’s
only a game and no one’s going to blame you if you miss, especially as we
wouldn’t be having the conversion in the first place if it hadn’t been for
your superb play!”
Somehow, Jack’s reassurance calmed Chris and moments afterwards the oval ball
sailed serenely through the air, in the process neatly bisecting the posts to
a massive cacophony of cheering. The kicker then disappeared in the middle of
a huddle of his fourteen team-mates, plus seven more who had been sitting on
the substitutes’ bench. However, celebrations were temporarily halted when
manners were remembered, for there was a worthy but now disconsolate
opposition to shake hands with and offer commiserations to, as well as clap
off the pitch, the players forming up in the traditional two lines,
subsequently reciprocated, in order to do so.
Later that day, on returning to their boarding school, Chris and Jack were no
longer just considered by their fellow pupils to be the prettiest 15 year-olds
in the educational establishment. The boys were also regarded as heroes.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, almost 2032 years
previously, September 30 BC)
A naked, giggling Sesse threw the empty pig’s bladder, stitched and inflated
so that it formed a roughly oval ball, to the similarly nude and laughing
Caesarion, who in turn just managed to pass it to a disrobed Timotheos before
his royal lithe legs were grabbed by an unclothed opponent. The young King
crashed to the soft ground but did not mind the tumble because such keen
tackling formed an integral part of the game the thirteen lovely boys from the
Ephebeian training barge were playing, whilst they bided their time until they
could resume their voyage upriver.
Like most healthy upper class Greek boys, Caesarion was accustomed to regular
exercise in the gymnasium in the customary Hellenic fashion, namely naked.
However, he had previously undertaken the activity only in the ornate privacy
of the relevant facility in Alexandria’s royal palace.
Cleopatra had been keen for her son to indulge in exercise before embarking
upon his lengthy daily bathing routine. However, the late Queen would have
been horrified to discover that her oldest offspring had undertaken such
pursuits in a public arena, and involving potentially harsh bodily contact
with others too. She would have considered such boyish rough and tumble
completely inappropriate for a King, even if the pastime had not been
conducted in the nude with peasants watching.
The twelve naked Greek ephebes and one younger nude Egyptian slave had
discarded their skimpy linen kilts, divided themselves into two teams, one of
six and the other of seven, in order to play their game, which had few rules
and no referee. The objective was for someone to carry the pig’s bladder to
their opponents’ end of the little muddy fallow riverside field, close to
which they had securely anchored their boat, whilst both sides literally
fought each other for possession of the oval object.
Happily, the boys involved were too friendly with each other for any tussles
to be harmful, with much giggle-inspiring tickling indulged instead of real
combat in order to secure the pigskin. Nevertheless, Caesarion’s opponents
were no respecter of royalty during the game, as they thoroughly relished the
rare opportunity presented for not only their eyes to feast on but also their
hands to grasp, hold and explore a certain regal boy’s deliciously resplendent
body. They all worshipped their King’s form, and not just out of nationalistic
duty. As a consequence, a number of young erections were visible throughout
the playful action.
Such displays of young virility did not stop the game, even when some Egyptian
spectators from a nearby peasant village, including young females, gathered to
observe what the noisy, largely Greek newcomers were up to. In fact, the
presence of the girls only encouraged many of the ephebes to redouble their
efforts in order to parade their masculine prowess, both in terms of their
pastime and their lovemaking tools.
Although most of the 15 and 16 year-olds had a sexual partner amongst their
fellow ephebes, in line with common Greek cultural practice, their raging
hormones made girls at least as attractive to their rampant cocks. They were
therefore currently very happy to show off, along with their sporting
aptitudes, their youthful reproductive equipment in order to try to attract a
potential temporary paramour, particularly as the females concerned were only
Egyptian peasants. The boys, sadly brought up to give scant consideration
towards the native population, would undoubtedly have quickly terminated their
present pursuit and embarrassingly covered themselves if the feminine
spectators had been fellow Hellenes.
Despite Caesarion’s previously far more discreet involvement in disrobed
gymnastic activity and self-acquired greater respect for the Egyptian
populace, he became caught up in the thrilling freedom and action of the game
to be bothered by his unprecedented public display of regal nakedness. The
boy’s unusual physical immodesty was also helped by the apparent uncaring,
even proud, display of their nude bodies by his companions. The 16 year-old’s
mind additionally became rather enraptured by one of the watching girls, who
was standing aside from the others and also looked familiar.
Caesarion’s own cock, previously flaccid, began to rise as, during the
continuing game, he managed some short furtive glances in the direction of the
beautiful 15 year-old brown haired and eyed girl concerned. Such occasional
distraction eventually led to disaster, as far as his team of six was
concerned, when he missed a crucial tackle to allow an opponent to deliver the
pig’s bladder to the target location, with this first score also being the
last.
Fortunately, none of Caesarion’s comrades was particularly bothered at this
outcome. The boys invariably played for the fun, not especially to win, albeit
temporary bragging rights were always a pleasant by-product of victory. The
thoroughly exciting game was also long and exhausting and they were now tired
enough to be happy to discontinue, particularly as most were keen to chat up
the girl spectators, although they suffered from one major handicap in respect
of this particular pursuit.
None of the ephebes could speak the local tongue, or so eleven of them
believed. The majority therefore prayed that the young peasant females might
possess some knowledge of Greek, although they did not hold out much hope for
this feminine attribute, or alternatively that Sesse could be persuaded to
translate for them.
After quickly washing off, in the adjacent river, the accumulated dirt and
sweat, acquired on their universally delightful forms by the hectic activity
of their recent game, Caesarion’s fellow ephebes received quite a shock when
their similarly cleansed King approached the particular feminine form that he
had been most attracted to, forcing a few other young potential suitors to try
their luck elsewhere, and began to converse with her in fluent Demotic.
“Hello,” the naked boy, whose smooth, damp skin was glistening in the bright
sunlight, greeted the beautiful girl as he approached, “what is your name?”
The young female blushed in response and did not immediately answer. Such
reaction did not emanate from her amazement that the most gorgeous of the
universally lovely nude Greek boys, previously frolicking in the field, was
not only bothering to advance to meet her but also addressing her in her own
language, with great proficiency and in a very cultured tone. The change in
the highly attractive 15 year-old’s facial hue instead arose because she did
not know to where to transfer her sensuous brown eyes, after staring at the
arriving 16 year-old male’s impressive, clearly semi-erect, smooth masculine
genitalia, which were neatly crowned by a cute little tuft of fair hair. A
sudden dryness in her throat additionally prevented an instant verbal reply to
the young Hellene’s opening question.
Caesarion noticed the girl’s blush and obvious coyness and so asked “I am
sorry, does my nakedness offend you, as I should be happy to cover myself in
order to earn an answer to my question and a little more of your time?” The
beautiful 15 year-old female, dressed in a simple but clean and relatively
new, low-cut, light summer dress, which advertised her pleasantly developing
cleavage to maximum advantage, now managed to recover sufficiently from her
initial shock finally to provide an answer. She was assisted by transferring
her stare from the boy’s delectable genitalia to his feet.
“No, young Sir,” the girl replied politely, “your current lack of clothing
does not disturb me, as naked males of all ages, at work or play on, in or
besides the sacred river, are a common sight.” She then lifted up her sublime
face, whilst displaying a sweet smile, to stare directly into Caesarion’s
light blue eyes. This action caused the boy’s cock, already rising further
after he had briefly stared at the young female’s magnificently developing
cleavage, to quiver noticeably, forcing the 16 year-old to try to hide this
embarrassing development behind his hands.
The girl, clearly now feeling bold, and whilst once more briefly glancing
towards Caesarion’s groin in order to reinforce her point in the boy’s mind,
declared “Therefore, young Sir, you don’t possess anything that I haven’t seen
before!” The 16 year-old’s now manually hidden rigid penis shuddered when his
ears heard the gentle put down, but not in embarrassment.
Caesarion’s genital reaction was instead caused by sudden visual recognition
that, in his opinion, the girl before him, whilst still looking somehow
familiar, was the most gorgeous he had ever seen. The boy therefore asked,
with his own disarming smile, “Well, then, are you going to appraise me of
your name?”
“My name, young Sir, is Ahmose,” the girl announced and Caesarion immediately
realised why she had looked so familiar.
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
“A visit to the palace torture chamber will not be necessary,” suggested
Rhodon, intensely fearful for his wife and children’s welfare, “for either
myself or members of my family, as I can appraise you of everything you want
to know.” The tutor, after his early protestations of ignorance had been
dismissed and the instruments of pain promised instead to solicit the truth,
had sadly recognised that he would have to sacrifice his King to save his
beautiful spouse and offspring from probably distressing and damaging, if not
fatal, torment.
Agrippa had accepted his spy’s advice that the royal tutor had to be a prime
candidate to be Caesarion’s informant relating to recent happenings in the
palace and that, given his expendable status, he was worthy of at least
questioning, even torturing, to ascertain the extent of his knowledge about
the boy’s continued existence and, if still alive, current whereabouts.
Rhodon’s family should also provide easy leverage to loosen the man’s tongue
sufficiently to guarantee that he both spoke quickly and told the full truth.
After all, Rhodon was perfectly placed for the informant’s role and had been
known to be both very close to and an admirer of the young King. The tutor had
also been acting suspiciously, always trying to check whether he was being
followed or watched, albeit unsuccessfully, presumably because he was an
amateur in such subterfuge. Visitors to his home had additionally included,
besides a handsome young ephebe, several of Alexandria’s well-known remaining
royalists, the latter freed by the new regime after surviving the culling of
the potentially greatest troublemakers.
“How do I know that what you speak will be the full truth without putting your
veracity to the test in the torture chamber?” Agrippa asked, not unreasonably.
“Because,” Rhodon reasonably countered, “if my words prove false, I’m sure
that my family and I will then proceed to that awful place, probably never to
re-emerge. Do you therefore think that I’d risk such a terrible
inevitability?”
“You might,” Agrippa replied, “for your King and god!” “Alas,” Rhodon
responded, “my devotion to him, as he himself knows and for which he has
already magnanimously granted pardon, stops if harm could befall my family
because of my loyalty.”
“I might believe you if you answer my next queries with the same particular
word,” Agrippa advised. “What are your questions?” asked Rhodon, although he
already knew the answer.
“Is the bastard still alive and do you know where he is?” Agrippa stipulated.
Despite his recent words, Rhodon briefly considered lying by suggesting that
Caesarion had indeed drowned and his body lost at sea or that he simply did
not know where the young King was currently located if he still lived.
However, he perceptively appreciated that such replies would not satisfy the
Roman general until the tutor and his family had enjoyed at least one session
in the torture chamber.
“The answer to both queries is ‘Yes!’” Rhodon therefore reluctantly informed,
fully knowing what his interrogator’s next supplementary question would be.
“Tell me, then,” a gleeful, grinning Agrippa commanded, “where is the bastard
so that I can go in pursuit of him?”
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same time)
A delighted Caesarion called the harassed and still naked Sesse, who was
busily trying to translate the conversations of eleven young nude Greeks to
the selected Egyptian females they were pursuing for licentious reasons, and
the similarly unclothed Timotheos to him. The latter had temporarily stopped
privately begging the gods that the marooning of the training barge on the
Nile was not a bad omen, indicating that as yet unknown pursuers of his young
King would somehow now learn of the whereabouts of their stranded regal prey.
The senior ephebe had instead been attempting to chat up his own 15 year-old
female enchantress.
“Sesse, Timotheos,” an excited Caesarion announced to the arriving pair of
boys, “this is Ahmose, younger sister of our beloved Ay!”
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
“Before I answer your question,” Rhodon retorted, “I’ll need certain requests
approved because, without them, you might as well send us to the torture
chamber.” “What do you want?” Agrippa asked patiently, albeit with frustrated
irritation evident in his voice.
“I am not concerned for my own safety,” Rhodon bravely and genuinely advised,
“but I must request you to swear by the gods that, if my information proves
correct, my wife and children will not only be released unharmed but also be
rewarded with the bounty placed on my King’s head. They will not like taking
such blood-money but will need it to start decent lives elsewhere because I
don’t think that they’d subsequently live very long anywhere in Egypt, even
with Roman protection. Vengeful, ardent, royalist nationalists will surely
pursue and murder both the traitor who betrayed the last of the Pharaohs and
his family.”
Agrippa, to whom both the reward and the lives concerned meant nothing, was
happy to swear the necessary oath. Unlike many Romans, the uncompromising
general had never been one to be either particularly religious or too beholden
to such gestures, which he had broken many times previously whenever demanded
by circumstances, although invariably these had conscientiously usually
involved matters of state as opposed to personal interest. However, in this
instance, he would be pleased to grant Rhodon his wishes if, as a consequence
of the tutor’s information, Caesarion was captured. After all, an additional
advantageous benefit of providing such largesse might be to encourage even
more useful informers and collaborators to the new regime.
“Where, then,” Agrippa enquired once more, having provided the requested oath,
“is the bastard?”
Rhodon then proceeded to betray his young King to his delighted pursuer.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same time)
Ay had told Caesarion of his younger sister sold into slavery at the same time
as him, in order to reduce the number of mouths their desperately poor family
had to feed, as well as to boost their drunkard father’s beer kitty for a few
days. The siblings had been bought by different purchasers and had
subsequently sadly lost contact, something that even a certain young King had
been unable to rectify, at least until now, when it was sadly too late for a
reunion.
Ahmose was named after the senior spouse, or ‘King’s Great Wife’, of Tuthmosis
I, who had reigned about 1500 years previously and had been the first Pharaoh
to be entombed in the Valley of the Kings near Thebes, then capital of the
‘New Kingdom’. She had been bought by a relatively prosperous, kind, childless
Egyptian couple to help with the housework. However, they had then so taken
her to their hearts that they had freed and formerly adopted her as their
daughter. Nevertheless, whilst recently watching the lovely naked Greek
ephebes at play, she had been standing separate from the other village girls
because they snootily considered her inferior because of her previous slave
status.
Both Sesse and Timotheos were as pleased to encounter the beautiful Ahmose,
sister of their mutual late friend, Ay, as their young King had been. However,
neither the three boys nor single girl involved in exchanging current
greetings presently appreciated how fateful their meeting was to be for all
their futures.
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
“Pursuit by river wouldn’t get us very far because of the annual flooding,”
Agrippa advised one of his senior officers. “However,” the general commented,
“the yearly inundation should be of benefit to us as opposed to being a
hindrance because, with luck, it should have delayed the Ephebeian training
barge from reaching Babylon. Consequently, a light cavalry contingent should
be fast enough to follow along the banks of the Nile, overtake the vessel and
capture the bastard, hopefully alive.”
“Rhodon has kindly appraised us about the identity of others who’ve been
helping the eldest child of the whore, Cleopatra,” Agrippa continued, “and
they’ve all been arrested. However, he might not be fully acquainted with all
of them. Accordingly, it would be useful if the bastard could be caught alive
for questioning by the torturer before being strangled, burnt on a pyre and
then laid to rest with his ancestors. Naturally, we’ll publicly announce that
he died whilst resisting arrest. I’ve already commissioned an appropriately
elaborate porphyry urn. To placate local public opinion and thereby avoid
unnecessary unrest, I’ve also ordered the construction of a decent mausoleum
to house, after suitable funerary rites, the ashes of the last of the
Pharaohs. His resting-place is to be near to what I understand, from a palace
informant, was his favourite spot for peaceful contemplation in the royal
necropolis, close to his grandfather’s tomb. After all, he’ll then have all
eternity for such quiet reflection!”
“Have you told Octavianus about the hopefully good news?” the officer asked of
his superior. “No,” Agrippa replied, “there’s no need to trouble him in case
Rhodon is playing tricks. Given our leader’s sensitivity to such matters, I
also believe it best only to inform of any success after we’ve killed the
bastard.”
Agrippa kept to himself the fact that he constantly worried that the new sole
ruler of the Roman Empire might develop pangs of conscience, either about the
torture or elimination of his second cousin. The general himself actually had
nothing personal against the boy, who might truly be rather charming, as his
informers had suggested. However, the 16 year-old represented potential future
trouble for his friend and leader, Octavian. Consequently, having already seen
the Empire suffer the miseries of Civil Wars, he did not want to leave the
potential focus for further conflict, in the form of Julius Caesar’s son,
alive.
In other words, Agrippa’s determination to have Caesarion pursued successfully
and killed was purely based on politics and what he considered, from his
perspective, the best course of action for the welfare of the Empire he both
served and loved. He also believed that, if the young intended target of this
policy was as caring and selfless as had been described and had himself
pondered the issue, he would undoubtedly have sympathised with the general’s
viewpoint.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same time)
“I never knew, young Sir,” Ahmose announced, “that my brother had entered
royal service. How do you know him and do you know where and how he is now
after the arrival of the Romans and the death of the Queen?”
Caesarion bravely took it upon himself to answer these awkward questions,
although his eyes became damp when he thought once more about the loss of his
beloved Ay.
“Your brother actually served the King very loyally and well,” Caesarion
advised, “as have my companions here. Sadly, however, Ay also recently died
bravely to secure his royal master’s safety from those in pursuit of him.”
As anticipated by Caesarion, such tragic news caused Ahmose to shed her own
tears, despite the fact that she had not seen her brother for 8 years, and the
beautiful naked boy could not resist the temptation to cradle the sorrowful,
equally gorgeous girl in his lithe bare arms. However, the lovely 15 year-old
female eventually gently separated herself from the 16 year-old’s caring
embrace to look into his own damp light blue eyes.
“You have to tell me, young Sir, all about my brother and the fate of our
young King,” Ahmose managed to relate between her tears, “but, as I now have
to return home because I’m already overdue from an errand and my parents will
worry, can I please ask….” The young Egyptian girl then hesitated to continue
because normal Greeks would not only reject what she was requesting but also
be insulted by the very suggestion.
Caesarion, noticing Ahmose’s hesitation, considerately announced “Ask what you
want and, if it is within my power to grant your request, I should be very
happy to do so.” This declaration appeared to cheer and encourage the girl,
who therefore managed to summon up enough courage to complete her original
sentence.
“Would you, young Sir, grant my family,” Ahmose asked, whilst now drying her
beautiful brown eyes, “the immense honour of coming to supper.” The girl had
originally hesitated to conclude this request because most Greeks would be
affronted by such an invitation to visit an Egyptian peasant household.
“You can, young Sir, bring your friend and the servant,” Ahmose added,
referring respectively to Timotheos and Sesse. The status of the latter seemed
clear to the girl by the fact that the 14 year-old, from his appearance,
obviously shared her nationality and would not usually be present in the
company of Greeks other than in a servile role.
To Ahmose’s astonishment, as well as that of the senior ephebe and the younger
slave who was the subject of the comment, Caesarion advised softy, with no
intent to admonish, “Sesse is not my servant as, like Timotheos, he is my
friend.” This was news to both of the boy’s startled companions, although they
were too respectful of their young King to remark about the matter in the
girl’s presence.
Ahmose blushed again, this time at her apparent error, and, turning to Sesse,
begged “Please, young Sir, accept my humblest apologies for my mistake.”
However, the 14 year-old was still too astonished at hearing Caesarion’s
announcement to do anything but nod in acknowledgement of the girl’s sincere
expression of regret.
The issue was soon forgotten when Caesarion next informed “I and my two
friends would be equally honoured to accept your invitation, Ahmose, as long
as you are sure that your parents will have us.” The girl then happily and
truthfully replied “Oh, young Sir, they’d be delighted to accept young
gentlemen for supper!”
In fact, both Caesarion and Ahmose knew that, in a Egyptian peasant village,
hosting young Greek gentlemen, which all of the ephebes clearly were, would
considerably enhance the standing of the family within the community. It would
also be ensure that the girl, if she wanted, never went without feminine
friends again, as the snootiness of other females at her former slave status
would be overcome by admiration and envy of her new formal acquaintances.
If any of the other ephebes had succeeded in their ambitious pursuits of
seducing one of the other young females, he would still have declined an
invitation to visit his fleeting lover’s peasant dwelling. The Greek boys,
following their cultural upbringing and despite the contrary example of their
young King and ephebe leader, would have considered the vaginas of the
Egyptian girls worthy of entry but not their homes. They would also have
subsequently not have cared if their fun later resulted in pregnancy, as they
would invariably deny the child if they ever learnt of its existence, which
would be unlikely as they would not provide their temporary paramours with
their true names or backgrounds.
Furthermore, the girls concerned would not be ignorant of such realities,
entering into liaisons fully aware that they were going to be fleeting and
could result in unwanted babies. However, the disgrace resulting from such
pregnancies would not as great as it would have been if the causal sperm had
been Egyptian instead of Greek.
A consolation of flirting with Greeks, besides the sexual adventure and
enjoyment, was the fact that half-Hellenic bastards frequently fetched high
prices at market once they were old enough to become useful slaves. Such
eventual financial reward went a long way to offset the shame of giving birth
to, as well as the cost of rearing, such illegitimate children, as long as the
young mothers did not become too attached to their offspring. Frequently, to
help hide the stigma or prevent such emotional attachment, pregnancies were
carefully disguised and the babies involved brought up within the close-knit
families by less sensitive surrogate mothers, who were themselves sometimes
household servants.
Consequently, as some of Caesarion’s naked Ephebeian colleagues, whose latest
pursuits had been successfully accomplished despite the language problem,
began to disappear into the long riverside grasses and reeds with their
willing female conquests, both parties appreciated that what was to come, and
might occasionally be repeated over subsequent days until the barge was ready
to sail upstream again, was only for temporary pleasure and amusement. Their
lives would then permanently separate, as they returned to totally different
cultures and living standards, regardless of whether young Greek sperm,
deposited in young Egyptian vaginas, resulted in the wonder of fresh life.
Nevertheless, such concerns were far from Caesarion’s mind, as the beautiful
boy temporarily parted from the gorgeous Ahmose with the promise of later
following her directions to her home to enjoy supper in the company of his
friends.
Ahmose had been so pleased by Caesarion’s acceptance of her invitation, on
behalf of himself and his two companions, that she had successfully stopped
crying. She was still upset at the immensely sad news about the death of her
brother but her mind could also not help but experience great pride that her
family was to be honoured by the visit of three young gentlemen, two of whom
were clearly from the Greek upper classes. However, the girl’s most intense
feelings, of a nature not previously experienced, were in respect of the
delicious boy with the straight, fair, silky hair and sensitive light blue
eyes.
Ahmose did not initially recognise the unprecedented emotions she felt towards
the divine boy, which made her feel rather light-headed. She also only
realised that she had still not learnt his name as he and his two companions
began to walk away from her to return to their boat. She additionally only
remembered that the young trio was still naked when she observed three
marvellously curvaceous and pert sets of youthful, smooth male buttocks
retreat before her.
“But, Lord,” Sesse whispered in mild protest, as he, his young King and the
senior ephebe advanced out of Ahmose’s hearing range, “I’m not only your
servant but also your slave!” “Oh,” Caesarion responded, with feigned surprise
at his own supposed oversight, “did I not tell you? I have freed you and
instead appointed you as an official ‘Companion’ of Pharaoh Ptolemy XV Caesar.
I have also awarded Timotheos the same distinction, if it can still be called
that at this grievous time for Egypt and the monarchy.”
Ahmose, still watching the threesome from a distance, as she was very
reluctant to deprive her brown eyes of the wonderful sight of one particularly
resplendent young male nude, wondered what was happening when the other two
boys suddenly fell and prostrated themselves on the ground in front of the one
with whom she had become infatuated. The girl dismissed the first thought that
then crossed her intelligent, instinctive mind, realising, on reflection, that
the notion was ridiculous, in favour of the theory that the friends were again
indulging in some silly boyish game.
“Please stand,” Caesarion politely commanded, “as prostration before me is
totally inappropriate, especially at this time. I am embarrassed by such a
ritual, which I hereby decree, through a royal proclamation uttered by the
Pharaoh himself, that such homage is hereafter banned from the royal court of
Egypt! The rite might also dangerously reveal to others whom I really am.”
Sesse and Timotheos reluctantly obliged their young King, with the latter
apologising on behalf of both of them, albeit with little conviction. “I’m
sorry, Caesarion,” the senior ephebe said, using a familiarity of name that he
had eventually managed to master in order to satisfy his modest friend’s
request for greater informality, “but you honour us greatly.”
“It is I who am honoured,” Caesarion responded, “not only by your performance
of the prostration but also by your brave loyalty and brotherhood, which
endangers your very lives. In the circumstances, repaying some of my immense
debt to you by freeing Sesse and granting you both the distinction of royal
‘Companion’ is the least that I could do, especially as I also intend to
honour the other courageous and selfless ephebes with the title of ‘Friends of
the King’!” The latter distinction was not as grand as the former, but both
were greater than boys of the lower upper class, and their proud families,
could ever normally realistically aspire.
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, shortly afterwards)
The large contingent of light cavalry, renowned throughout the Roman legions
for their proficiency and swiftness, speeded through the gates of the former
royal palace and along Alexandria’s broad streets, eventually joining the even
wider Canopic Way. This boulevard led to the eponymous eastern gate of the
great city and canal beyond, which eventually led to the Nile.
Despite the prowess of the horsemen, the current flooding of the mightiest
river in the world would make pursuit of Caesarion very slow. However,
Agrippa, who was happily leading the contingent, was content that, regardless
of their speed, they would surely be gaining ground on an undoubtedly marooned
young royal bastard.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same time)
Ahmose’s kind adoptive parents were indeed both happy and proud to host for
supper three young male guests, two of whom were Greek gentlemen. The honour
was unprecedented for the peasant village and soon gossipy news of the event
would permeate through the local populace, who thereafter looked at the
household concerned, already relatively prosperous, with even greater
admiration.
Ahmose herself suddenly acquired the interest of girls who had until now
snootily snubbed her because of her previous servile status. However, the
beautiful young female was no longer desperate for such previously unjustly
begrudged companionship, as she now secretly yearned for just one friendship,
that of a particular boy.
Despite the fact that the dwelling of Ahmose’s adoptive parents was one of the
larger of the simple residences in the peasant village, as befitted their
wealthier status, Caesarion and his companions were obviously accustomed to
much better. However, none of the trio indicated any contempt for their
surrounds, although they must have comprised the humblest visited by a Pharaoh
in centuries, if not millennia.
The three pleasant boys, now dressed in simple but clean tunics, instead
politely complimented the father and mother about their home, as well as
thanked them for their generous hospitality. They also formally introduced
themselves, thereby providing Ahmose with knowledge of Caesarion's appellation
for the first time. The young Pharaoh called himself Ptolemy, the truism not
being dangerous because many young males in Egypt, whether they were Greek or
part of the native population, were similarly named after the Kings of the
Lagid dynasty. They additionally explained that they were on an Ephebeian
training voyage. No reason was asked or given for Sesse's presence amongst
young Hellenic gentlemen.
The parents had clearly pursued a quick tidying-up exercise within their
dwelling, as well as the display of their best earthenware, food and wine for
the meal, which was competently cooked and served by the three household
slaves. The chat, which was conducted in Demotic with both Caesarion and Sesse
translating for Timotheos, was initially politely bland until the subject of
Ay was again raised.
There was an early awkward moment when Ahmose’s father commented that
Caesarion appeared familiar and openly wondered where he might have seen his
young guest previously. The boy replied “Have you ever been to Alexandria,
Sir, where you might possibly have seen me in the street?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s possible,” the father answered, whilst secretly very
thrilled to be termed ‘Sir’ by a young Greek noble, “as I have been once to
our capital. I went last year to witness some of the 300th anniversary
celebrations of the city. It was also the only time that I have seen your
namesake, our young King, as he formally led the festivities in the absence of
the Queen, who was campaigning with Marcus Antonius. Alas, I only saw the boy
from a distance but he truly looked splendid, wearing the regal attire of
Upper and Lower Egypt, including the royal mitre atop his magnificent long
fair hair.”
Caesarion and his companions were mightily relieved that Ahmose’s father had
only observed the young King from a distance, when both his attire and haircut
were rather different from what he currently sported. They were also pleased
that the man had not, by other means, made the connection between the fair-
haired blue-eyed boy in his present company and the Pharaoh he had once
watched performing sacred celebration rites in Alexandria.
Whilst being very careful not to reveal anything that might betray his own
identity, Caesarion later began to comply with Ahmose’s wish to tell her about
her brother’s death. The conversation therefore became rather sad whilst he
related Ay’s immensely brave and selfless sacrifice for his King, although his
recounting sensitively refrained from describing the full horrors of the young
slave’s demise, thereby thankfully reducing the amount of the girl’s
subsequently renewed tears.
Amidst Ahmose’s lachrymation, she muttered “I hope that the young King is
worthy of Ay’s sacrifice!” Caesarion secretly astonished Sesse and Timotheos
by commenting in response “So do I!”
Ahmose’s father proved himself to be a devoted royalist and nationalist when
he gently and politely admonished both the girl and Caesarion for their
remarks. “Although we rarely receive visitors of any great import in my
village, present company excepted,” the man declared, “not just a few passers-
by, who were well informed about our divine royal house, suggested that
Ptolemy XV Caesar exhibited much promise, and possessed a particular interest
in helping the ordinary people. It seems that the boy would probably have
become an excellent Pharaoh, especially for us Egyptians, if the gods had
allowed him to succeed his mother, who alas was too concerned with her own
international standing and the Greek elite to be bothered about our welfare.
Nevertheless, the Queen would still have been a better leader for our country
than some Roman dictator, whose rule means the end of our proud independence.
I just pray that the young King somehow manages to evade those in pursuit of
him and survives to return to his rightful throne one day!”
Both Sesse and Timotheos glanced at Caesarion whilst the father said these
words, instinctively wanting to gauge the reaction of their friend. However,
the boy’s regal, in all senses of the word, face somehow managed to maintain
an inscrutable façade and talk finally became more cheerful when he began to
relate carefully censored happier episodes of Ay’s earlier life with his
similarly aged young King.
The acquaintance of the guest trio with both the Pharaoh and pharaonic slave
was explained by truthfully relating that the young King had honoured their
particular Ephebeian company by training with them. Caesarion himself added,
whilst Sesse and Timotheos could not prevent themselves from smiling at the
associated withheld secret, that the regal personage had now apparently
disappeared and was presumably currently engaged in trying to flee the country
to a safe exile.
Ahmose’s father and mother expressed, with clear honesty, their wishes for the
fugitive Caesarion’s welfare and success in his attempts to evade those in
pursuit of him to reach safety. They had already become even more happy and
excited, as well as almost overawed, at discovering that their three guests
had truly been acquaintances of the young King. The parental rapture stemmed
from a feeling of being genuinely immensely honoured, as well as interested,
by the boys’ company, and not just because such news would improve their own
local personal standing even more.
Gradually, after chat had spread to providing news of the broader sad events
in Alexandria for Ahmose and her adoptive parents, the hour became late and
Caesarion appreciated that he and his companions would have to depart soon, if
they were to be polite and not overstay their welcome. Throughout the pleasant
evening, the 16 year-old King had encountered great difficulty in keeping his
light blue eyes off the 15 year-old girl present. It was a difficulty
replicated by the brown ocular versions possessed by the subject of his
infatuation.
The observant father and mother noticed the trading of infatuated glances
between the boy and their adopted daughter but were not surprised. After all,
it had been obvious that at least one of the Greek boy guests had to be
interested in Ahmose, as they thought that surely otherwise an invitation to
supper at the home of Egyptian peasants would be declined by Hellenes.
The parents were proud rather than wary of such a development, as they knew
and trusted Ahmose’s character. She would not dishonour her adoptive family by
allowing herself to be seduced and would still be a virgin when she entered
eventual wedlock. The latter would undoubtedly be soon and with a fellow
Egyptian, as marriage with a Greek was illegal under the country’s law, whilst
union with a Roman was not tolerated under Imperial jurisprudence. The
pleasant and polite young Hellenic guest might therefore lust after the
daughter of the household but pursuit of his fancy would surely go unrewarded.
The father and mother were sure that the boy would eventually make an
unsuccessful pass at Ahmose, probably on another occasion, but neither felt
any less of their young guest for doing so. After all, the parents were as
aware as anyone as to their daughter’s great virginal beauty, although it had
been her splendid character rather than appearance that had caused them to
adopt her in the first place.
In fact, the father and mother under-estimated the nature of the character of
their daughter’s young admirer. Unlike most of his male ancestors, Caesarion
would have believed that the disgrace from seducing such a delicious virgin
would fall on himself more than the girl. However, as the young King and his
companions finally related their polite thanks and farewells, he was beginning
to realise that, when the flooding eventually relented to allow his barge to
resume its journey, he could not leave Ahmose behind.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, several days later,
September 30 BC)
Caesarion, Sesse and Timotheos were spending their final evening on this
particular stretch of the riverside, as the downstream current had now
sufficiently abated to allow the Ephebeian training barge to resume its voyage
to the township of Babylon, situated at the southern edge of the Nile delta.
As they had already often done during their stay, the young trio suppered
again at the dwelling of Ahmose’s parents.
The event should have been a special occasion as the earlier dawn had heralded
the 17th anniversary of the birthday of Caesarion, Timotheos having attained
the same landmark on the previous day. The hosts were aware of the regal event
because they toasted the continued health of their young King and reiterated
their hopes for his continued welfare, not knowing that the beautiful,
charming and fair-haired blue-eyed boy present was the subject of their best
wishes.
Even though they believed that Caesarion was missing in desperate flight from
those in pursuit, Ahmose’s parents could not envisage any scenario in which
such a regal and divine being would even contemplate visiting their humble
abode. They were amazed enough that some young Greek gentlemen, who were
previously acquainted with the young King, had accepted invitations to supper.
They put the highly unusual happenings down to the special circumstances
created by the annual flood, the boys’ liberal pleasantness of characters and
one of their number’s infatuation with their adopted daughter.
At this particular last supper, Caesarion was unusually quiet and seemingly
melancholy. For a change, the young guest was not one of the main
conversationalists and he rarely exhibited his disarming smile, which everyone
loved, especially Ahmose. However, the boy’s frequent, supposedly furtive
glances at the girl were, if anything, even more in number than ever.
Despite Caesarion’s attempts to disguise the looks, everyone else present,
including the beautiful, equally morose female subject of his infatuation, was
aware of his actions. They also thereby recognised the cause behind the boy’s
sullenness, as the dawn would see the new 17 year-old leave this place, and
the apparent current girl of his dreams, probably for ever.
The supposition of the hosts and other guests as to the reason behind
Caesarion’s out-of-character behaviour was correct. However, the boy was to
shock them all when he boldly decided that he had to do something to end his
unhappy dilemma.
Caesarion and Ahmose had managed to steal some private moments together over
the past days, usually in the privacy of dry clearings amongst tall riverside
reeds. At first, they just chatted about their lives, including some of what
they had seen and done, although, again by using clever wording to prevent
having to lie, the young King was very careful in relating the true
circumstances of his activities. The boy did not want unnecessarily to disturb
and endanger the girl and her parents by giving away his true identity. He had
already judged that they would not betray him for the immense reward on his
head. However, their shock at the revelation might make them indiscreet, and
the household slaves might not be so loyal.
The mutual deep attraction and fondness between Caesarion and Ahmose
eventually resulted in the inevitable during one of their furtive liaisons.
After both had suffered much private temptation and torment, the lure of each
other’s rosy lips finally became irresistible, whilst dried throats and, on
the boy’s part, a throbbing penis had temporarily brought conversation to a
halt.
Thereafter, the secret meetings between Caesarion and Ahmose were dominated by
kissing and petting but never anything more. The boy was too respectful of the
girl to try to pursue matters further, whilst the latter was aware of the need
not to dishonour herself or her parents by succumbing to carnal temptation.
The main topic of discourse amidst such innocent embracing became the
burgeoning deep affection Caesarion and Ahmose had for each other, and how,
for both, it had been love at first sight. However, neither appeared able to
resolve the dilemma that meant that their relationship was doomed to be very
short-lived. Not only did the boy have to leave soon but also courtship
between the pair was useless, as ultimate marriage between the two would be
unlawful and any offspring would thereby be legal bastards.
Although Pharaohs were allowed Egyptian concubines, and many Greeks enjoyed
mistresses from the native populace, Caesarion knew that he could not
encourage Ahmose to remain with him in such circumstances, even if he revealed
his true identity to her and her parents. The boy believed that the wonderful
girl deserved better. In fact, she deserved to be like her regal namesake of
over a millennium before, namely the ‘King’s Great Wife’. The fact that her
children would also be the nephews and nieces of his beloved Ay added further
incentive to his desire.
As Caesarion picked at the last supper he was scheduled to enjoy in the
dwelling of Ahmose’s parents, the young King decided what he had to do.
(Further north on the banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt,
same time)
Agrippa was sitting on the floor in his tent, which was a much smaller and
simpler canopy than the red pavilion to which he was accustomed. The latter
would be divided into rooms by curtains worked with crimson and gold, and be
illuminated by lamps on gilded stands burning scented oil. The accoutrements
would also comprise rich carpets, elegant tables of ivory and citronwood and
luxuriously upholstered couches. However, such comforts had to be foregone
because of the need for speedy pursuit of the royal bastard. Nevertheless, the
general actually did not mind his current spartan conditions, as they recalled
his early military career. Even the copious mosquitoes on the riverbanks had
been compensated for by the exotic sight of the abundant crocodiles and
hippopotami.
One of Agrippa’s cavalry officers, wearing a red tunic trimmed with gold,
polished strip armour and an ornate helmet that reflected the light from the
tent’s single oil lamp, reported to his leader the outcome of the latest
interrogation of travellers going north along the Nile. The general smiled
when he was told that an Ephebian training barge had been spotted, moored
upstream at a location that was only a couple of days’ ride away.
(Further south on the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same time)
“Sir, I have a request to make,” Caesarion finally plucked up the courage to
advise Ahmose’s father, who had been concerned about the boy’s unusual
apparent melancholy. “If it is in my power to grant it,” the man replied, “I’m
sure that I’d be glad to do so.”
“Sir,” Caesarion announced, with clear trepidation in his voice, “I should
very much like to marry your daughter!”
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
Although he and his wife and children were safe for now, comfortably
accommodated in a well-guarded wing of the former royal palace, Rhodon was
sobbing profusely. He had betrayed his young King, who, if Agrippa’s current
pursuit of him ended in success for the highly capable general, would
undoubtedly suffer greatly and ultimately fatally, along with his companions
on the Ephebeian barge, for his tutor’s well-rewarded treachery.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same time)
There was a stunned silence, whilst the shocked assemblage at supper absorbed
Caesarion’s petition. Ahmose’s own emotions were also tinged with supreme
delight at the boy’s request, which was sadly offset by recognition that the
pursuit of her hand in marriage was unrealistic.
Ahmose’s father finally managed to recover sufficiently, aided by a large sip
of wine, to respond politely and with forbearance “I’m sorry but you know that
marriage between Greek and Egyptian is impossible. I am a believer in adhering
to the law, even if the present regulation regarding wedlock is, in my
opinion, unjust. I also believe that cohabitation outside of formal union,
even with someone of your undoubted pedigree, is insulting to the gods and
degrading to the mortals involved.” The man obviously had no intention of
letting his beloved adopted daughter become some young Hellene’s concubine,
not that this was the petitioner’s intent.
“What if the marriage law was changed?” Caesarion asked, whilst recovering
from his earlier nerves. “The only person who can do that,” Ahmose’s father
retorted, with exasperation beginning to show in his voice, “at least until
equally illiberal Roman jurisprudence is imposed on Egypt, is the King and I
sadly don’t believe that he’s currently in a position to consider such
matters!”
Caesarion displayed his disarming smile for the first time that evening when
he calmly replied “Sir, you are mistaken because I am not only in a position
to consider the matter but also herewith repeal the unworthy law in question!”
(Further north on the banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt,
same time)
“We’ll set off in pursuit again at first light,” Agrippa advised his officer,
“and let’s hope that we’re in time to catch the barge before it resumes its
journey!”
(Further south on the banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt,
same time)
Ahmose’s incredulous father stood up, body shaking and face reddening, to
declare nervously “By the gods, Highness, I knew that I recognised you from
somewhere.” As the astonished man then stepped away from the supper table and
began to clamber face-downwards, in order to perform the prostration, he
begged “Please forgive, Highness, my ignorance in failing to appreciate whom
you where, as well as subjecting you to such inappropriate hospitality and
irreverent conversation. Please also forgive, Highness, if any of my ignorant
words at any time caused offence!”
“I shall of course forgive you,” Caesarion advised, “as long as you now agree
to return to your feet and become my father in new law, whilst your daughter
is elevated to ‘King’s Great Wife’!”
(Royal necropolis, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
Octavian was being led by the keeper of the royal necropolis towards Alexander
the Great’s resplendent mausoleum to pay reverence to the divine King’s
mummified body. Meanwhile, his Greek guide was providing requested further
details about the entombment in Alexandria of the former ruler of most of the
known civilised world to the present incumbent of the position.
“Following Alexander’s tragically early death in Mesopotamian Babylon, Sire,”
the keeper advised in Greek, “the temporary regent who had succeeded him,
Perdiccas, decided to keep the King’s body, an important symbol of power, in
the city for a while. He was keen to ensure that the rest of the Empire was
quiet and secure before sending the dead monarch’s embalmed form, embedded in
spices, back to Aegae, capital of the regal homeland, Macedonia. Many
thousands took the opportunity to pay tribute whilst work proceeded on
creating the spectacular accoutrements that would accompany the late, great
leader of the known world to his final resting-place. Craftsmen from many
places produced funerary items of unsurpassed expense and splendour, including
a jewelled sarcophagus of beaten gold. Over this was placed a purple funerary
pall, itself embroidered with much golden thread and on top of which was
placed the armour and Trojan shield of the deceased.”
“Eventually, Sire,” the keeper appraised Octavian, “291 years ago, the great
funeral cortege set out on its slow, stately progress, with 64 mules pulling
the heavy catafalque. Many people from communities on or near the way were
drawn from their homes to watch as the splendid but sad parade passed.
However, Alexander’s body never reached his homeland. As the procession
approached Syria, one of his foremost friends and generals, Ptolemy, who was
also rumoured to be his half-brother, pursued and intercepted it and forced it
instead to divert to Egypt, which he had seized in the confused wake of the
great monarch’s death.”
“Ptolemy claimed, Sire,” the keeper informed, “that Alexander had always
wanted to be interred in Egypt, where he was considered Pharaoh, in order to
be close to the being declared by the oracle at Siwa to be the King’s true
father, the god Amon. The monarch had been very popular in the country, having
imposed a much more benign regime, one more respectful of the ancient nation’s
cultural and religious traditions, than that of the Persians.”
“Ptolemy’s actions, Sire,” the keeper continued, “in honouring Egypt by
returning Alexander forever to the country, as well as commissioning the
construction of a magnificent mausoleum in Alexandria for the great King,
enabled him to consolidate his own popularity and position. This in turn
allowed his own titular elevation from Satrap to Pharaoh 15 years later, along
with all of the social and religious trappings, to be greeted with not only
little opposition but also much genuine enthusiasm. This was helped by the
fact that the event was seen as confirming the rebirth of an independent
Egypt, albeit under Greek supremacy.”
“It was, Sire,” the keeper proceeded, “his son, Ptolemy II Philadelphus, who
formally transferred Alexander’s body from its temporary tomb at Memphis to
the city the dead King had named after himself. The body then lay on public
display in the mausoleum in its gold coffin until 59 years ago when Ptolemy IX
melted down the sarcophagus to provide coinage. However, the outraged people
of Alexandria re-housed the regal remains in one made of crystal.”
“Your illustrious and divine father, Sire,” the keeper concluded whilst
referring to Octavian’s great uncle, Julius Caesar, “came here, with Cleopatra
VII, 15 years ago to pay his own respects to Alexander. I understand that
once, in Spain, he had bemoaned the fact that the Macedonian King had
conquered the world whilst, at the same age, he had done nothing.”
“Yes,” Octavian interrupted, “but he soon made up for lost time! Now, tell me,
what’s that new work going on over there? I thought that Cleopatra already
possessed her own mausoleum elsewhere.”
“The late Queen does indeed have her tomb outside the necropolis, Sire,” the
keeper answered, “so that she can rest for eternity next to someone not of the
Lagid dynasty.” The man was, of course, referring to Mark Antony. He then
confirmed “The new building has been ordered by your general, Agrippa, Sire,
and is located close to the mausoleum of Cleopatra VII’s father, Ptolemy XII,
in a favoured spot where her eldest son liked to come to meditate, near to his
late grandfather.”
‘So,’ a suddenly smiling Octavian immediately thought to himself on hearing
this news, ‘Agrippa must be confident of quickly accomplishing his pursuit and
providing the necessary dead body for the new mausoleum or he would not have
commissioned the construction. How good of my friend not to bother to tell me
about such unpleasantness until the time comes when I really need to know
about the fate of the young bastard. How typical, despite his military
ruthlessness, for him also to have sufficient respect for the boy to see that
he not only has decent burial but will also rest for ever in a location he
would surely choose himself.’
(Temple of Amon, banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, next
day)
By Egyptian standards, Amon was not a particularly ancient god. He was an
infant compared with the falcon-headed sky god Horus, the sun god Re in his
various manifestations, Osiris the nature god, who was castrated and murdered
and then rose from the dead, Set, the brother of the latter who committed the
crime, and Ptah, the creator god, all of whom emerged in remote times.
Amon, whose name means ‘He who is hidden’, was not in evidence when the two
countries of Upper and Lower Egypt united as one Kingdom in about 3100 BC. The
god was still inconspicuous when the pyramids were built hundreds of years
later. Even the Nile city with which he was most associated, Thebes, was of
still secondary importance until quite late in the country’s history, by which
time the Great Sphinx was so old and neglected that it was half-covered by
sand blown in from the desert by the regular storms of early summer.
Thebes became great under the New Kingdom in the sixteenth century BC and Amon
helped to promote unprecedented aggressive nationalism under some impressive
Pharaohs. The doors of the god’s temple shrine were never opened except by the
King himself or the most senior priests. They alone could pursue this activity
and see the deity face to face.
“Eminence, there’s a young Greek of the highest class at the front doors
requesting an audience with you,” Herihor, a handsome dark-eyed 15 year-old
priestling, announced to his superior in Demotic. The pretty boy would have
sported silky straight black hair if all hirsute growth on his very lovely
form had not been shaved away in traditional priestly style. Fortunately, he
still possessed his nicely low-hanging balls, which was more than could be
said for the 60 year-old High Priest he was addressing.
“How do you know he’s of the top echelon?” the well-regarded High Priest asked
not unreasonably but also not unpleasantly of the neophyte, who was one of the
cleverest and most agreeable he had ever recruited to the service of Amon.
“Because, Eminence,” Herihor advised, “he speaks with a very cultured accent,
even in the Demotic language by which he amazingly addressed me, which also
indicates excellent education and social discernment for a Hellene!”
Despite being Greek himself, the High Priest smiled at the comments of
Herihor, who, like most serving in the temples that still revered the
traditional Egyptian as opposed to Hellenic gods, came from the native
population. The 60 year-old had now realised that the 15 year-old’s use of the
phrase ‘of the highest class’, in respect of the young person seeking an
audience, admiringly referred to, as well as pedigree, the unexpected
arrival’s obvious social egalitarianism and beauty. After all, very few
Hellenes, especially those still in their youth, ever bothered to learn the
local tongue or visit places where the country’s indigenous deities were
worshipped, or caused the front of the priestling’s tunic to bulge in the area
of the groin, as it was now.
“Allow him into the outer courtyard,” the High Priest, who still retained in
his features a degree of the immense handsomeness he had once possessed during
his boyhood and youth, requested of Herihor, “and I’ll see him there shortly.”
“As you command, Eminence’, the priestling replied, fully aware that no
visitor whose religious and social credentials had not been checked could be
allowed into the inner sanctuaries.
Shortly afterwards, the High Priest went to see who had asked for an audience
with him. When he received his answer, his 60 year-old face turned ashen,
whilst shortly afterwards his body collapsed to the paved floor.
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
“I’ve been told to expect a special guest to our domain,” the smirking middle-
aged Greek palace torturer advised his new young apprentice. The Romans had
inherited the proficient expert in the inducement of excruciating torment and
confessions from Cleopatra. The Queen had used his services against her
enemies and their supporters, as well as other, sometimes completely innocent,
people who had unfortunately raised her suspicions.
The young apprentice was the good-looking 18 year-old son of the torturer’s
impoverished brother. The youth had been selected for appointment to the
interesting and prospectively lucrative official post, where most money was
earned by selling victims’ possessions, because of his eagerness, shared
familial sadism and willingness to pay the necessary price for the favour. His
homosexual uncle proposed to enjoy incestuously his nephew’s attractive
features many times in the privacy of their joint palace lodgings.
“Who might the special guest be, Uncle?” the young apprentice asked. “Well,”
replied the torturer, who previously had been a fawning flatterer of all
powerful royals, “I’ve been told to expect to question, with the full panoply
of equipment at my disposal, our now deposed and fugitive young King,
Caesarion, before sending him on his way to meet his ancestors. Apparently,
the Romans are confident that their pursuit of him will soon result in
success. I’m ordered to strangle him if our instruments don’t kill him first,
which I expect they will, as I intend to enjoy myself with the young bastard.
I’ve always fancied him greatly, and so entertaining him here should be
enormously pleasurable, especially when I fuck his undoubtedly virgin anus and
later cut off his regal genitalia, thereby truly ensuring that he is the last
of the Pharaohs, as well as of Julius Caesar’s direct lineage.”
“If you’re good,” the uncle then informed his nephew and now regular bumboy,
“I’ll let you share in the fun pursuits, including that provided by our doomed
young King’s rear orifice. However, I’ve been told that if you ever let anyone
else know that the last of the Pharaohs was ever in our torture chamber, you,
as well as possibly me too, will become a victim of our own devices!”
The broad grin that had developed on the young apprentice’s face, as a
consequence of learning about the possible delights to come, was immediately
wiped from his face on hearing his uncle’s last remark. The 18 year-old then
declared solemnly “In respect of this matter, I’ll be as silent as the grave!”
“You better had be,” the torturer retorted, “or that’s the place where you
might soon be headed. Our new Roman superiors won’t mess around if they find
out that either of us has been indiscreet!”
Conversation then turned to the more pleasant subject of how, and in what
order, they would inflict grievous agony and harm on their beautiful young
King’s helpless naked body.
(Temple of Amon, banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same
time)
Heribor’s amazement turned from the visitor’s unexpected linguistic and
physical attributes to his High Priest’s reaction to meeting the young guest.
The 60 year-old’s collapse to the ground was not as a result of a faint or
other ailment but because he had performed a ceremonial prostration. The 15
year-old, being far from naďve, fully appreciated that there was now only one
person in the whole world for whom his superior would conduct such homage.
Heribor immediately realised that the stunningly beautiful fair-haired blue-
eyed young visitor had to be Ptolemy XV Caesar, King of Kings, Pharaoh of
Upper and Lower Egypt, son of Amon and a god in his own right. The 15 year-old
therefore followed the High Priest to the paved floor.
“What are you doing?” a startled Caesarion enquired, knowing that he must have
been recognised but hoping that he could bluff a case of mistaken identity.
However, the young King was to be frustrated in this ambition when the High
Priest, seemingly reading the regal boy’s mind, begged “Please, Highness, do
not deny me the right to acknowledge your presence in this humble temple.”
Accordingly, the regal visitor, who did not believe that he had ever seen the
60 year-old man in his life before, and he always had an excellent memory for
faces, did not pursue his tactic. He instead asked “How do you know who I am?”
“I regret, Highness, that I was once a fierce enemy of both your father and
mother,” Ganymedes truthfully answered.
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
“So, we’re agreed then,” the torturer suggested, “we use our pricks on our
pretty young King first, as we’d like to fuck a Pharaoh who’s not yet been
damaged. You also never know, just the threat of being sodomised by our large
cocks might induce such a delicate boy to tell us all before we go any further
with our harmful pursuits, although that won’t stop us doing so!”
The sadistic man’s sinister, dark, dank place of work then resounded with his
loud laughter.
(Temple of Amon, banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same
time)
“Please regain your feet both of you,” Caesarion commanded politely, “as I
dislike the prostration. The pursuit is not even Egyptian in origin but was
inherited from the Persian conquerors of our country. I’ve therefore decided
to exclude the rite from court ritual.”
Ganymedes and Heribor obeyed the order of the young Pharaoh, who again asked
of the former “How do you know who I am? I do not believe that we have met
previously.”
“We have never met, Highness,” Ganymedes answered, “but you possess many of
the attractive features of your earthly father Julius Caesar when he too was
young, mixed with the distinctive looks of your mother. The combination
immediately revealed to me who you were. The revelation of the presence of the
son of Amon was undoubtedly also assisted by the god himself, your divine
parent. Do you come to visit his local shrine?”
Even as he asked this latter question, Ganymedes realised the likely silliness
of the query, given that he knew that the young Pharaoh was fleeing from the
Romans. The High Priest instead began to believe that the 17 year-old King
must be seeking some form of shelter or other help. However, the last answer
the 60 year-old eunuch ever expected was the one he actually received.
“No,” Caesarion announced, “I have come to request Amon’s blessing for my
taking of a King’s Great Wife!”
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, Egypt, same time)
“Should I clean and sharpen these shears?” the nephew asked of his uncle, the
palace torturer, whilst examining on the serrated blades the remnants of hair
and dried blood and skin, which were the grisly souvenirs of previous
emasculations and other atrocities perpetrated by the tool.
“Just because we’re about to use them on a former King?” the ugly uncle
sneered at his handsome nephew before answering with a bluntness that matched
that of the pliers “No! The boy can have his genitals cut off like everyone
else who’s suffered the same here, with dirty unsharpened shears. It’ll add
nicely to his agonies!”
(Temple of Amon, banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, same
time)
Caesarion and Ganymedes chatted for hours in the security of the High Priest’s
own quarters, close to the inner sanctuary. Heribor was in unintrusive
attendance, respectfully serving the pair with food and drink as required.
Caesarion’s original intention was to seek a simple blessing from Amon for his
marriage without giving away his identity. However, it was now apparent that a
more elaborate ceremony would not only be arranged as befitted a Pharaoh but
also be insisted on by his priestly hosts.
Nevertheless, conversation centred on not only Caesarion’s pursuit of a
blessing from Amon, for the unprecedented marriage of the son of the god to an
Egyptian peasant girl and former slave, but also the young King’s thirst for
knowledge about Ganymedes’ background. The boy had never been told of the
eunuch who had served his late aunt, Princess Arsinoe, and had once almost
defeated and killed his earthly father, Julius Caesar. The 17 year-old was
eager to learn all, even if it reflected badly on his parents, which the High
Priest’s story sometimes did.
Ganymedes was encouraged by the skilfully disarming Caesarion to be fulsome
and candid about his background and accordingly proceeded to reveal his full
tale to the boy King, beginning by telling how he knew what his earthly father
had looked like when he was still a youth himself. The intrigued young
listener was shocked to discover that the High Priest had been castrated long
ago in faraway Bithnyia, where, as a 10 year-old, he had also been bedded by
the 20 year-old Julius Caesar. However, despite such appalling revelations,
the regal 17 year-old spurred the 60 year-old eunuch into continuing.
Caesarion was not unaware that his earthly family, on both his paternal and
maternal sides, had been responsible for many injustices, which did not just
signal a dark side to their characters as they pursued their ambitions but
were also representative of the cruel times. Ganymedes’ saga simply gave the
boy further proof that, in the unlikely chance that he ever became a ruling
Pharaoh himself, he had much to pursue to try to repair such history. He
intended to achieve this, if the gods allowed, by being a compassionate, just
and hopefully worthy King.
“You have much reason to hate me,” Caesarion eventually advised Ganymedes,
after the latter had completed his life story. This included the fact that,
after the ultimate victory of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra 17 years previously,
the eunuch had also become a fugitive. He eventually obtained, under a false
name and despite his Greek nationality, sanctuary in this relatively humble
and obscure example of one of Amon’s temples, aided by the order’s higher
priesthood, who had been some of his most ardent nationalist allies. His
undoubted abilities had subsequently brought quiet promotion to his current
post.
“My father debauched you when you were only 10 years old,” Caesarion
explained, “before much later helping my mother to secure the downfall of your
mistress, Princess Arsinoe, whom the Queen then had murdered. She would have
killed you too if she had found you!”
Ganymedes had seen no harm in revealing his background to Caesarion, who, in
his current circumstances, offered no threat even if he had adopted his
mother’s hostile policy towards him. In fact, both knew that the High Priest
posed a greater danger to the young Pharaoh, who could, after all, be betrayed
to the pursuing Romans for a great reward. However, both also recognised a
mutual, sympathetic, respectful empathy, instinctively appreciating that
neither represented a threat to the other.
“I have much reason to hate your earthly father and mother, Highness,”
Ganymedes confessed, “but not you. I do not believe that such antipathy should
be transferred to later generations and I am, after all, an ardent nationalist
and royalist. In fact, I have long forgiven Julius Caesar’s actions. If I was
a whole 20 year-old and had been offered a very pretty 10 year-old boy eunuch
for my bed, I doubt that I’d have refused. I’m also grateful that, after his
victory here in Egypt, he let the country keep its independence. I fought him
ferociously and, without boasting, almost successfully because I thought that
he wanted to include my adopted nation in his Empire. I was proved wrong,
humbly acquainting me with the fact I too am not infallible.”
“My attitude towards your mother has also mellowed, Highness,” Ganymedes
continued, “although I can never forgive her for having my beloved Princess
Arsinoe murdered. Your mother’s policies were almost proved correct. If Marcus
Antonius’ forces had been victorious, as many thought they would be, Egypt
would effectively be ruling Rome, not the reverse.”
“Anyway, Highness,” Ganymedes then suggested, “enough of me. Apart from
marriage, what are your own plans at this perilous time?”
“My mother wanted me to proceed to exile in Parthia,” Caesarion replied, “from
where I am to seek my return to the throne. I also swore to the gods that I
would achieve my mission for the sake of a loved one who died horribly on the
cross to save me from the Romans in pursuit of my person. However….” The boy’s
angelic voice then tailed off, as he rehearsed his renewed doubts about the
mission in his mind.
Ganymedes, recognising Caesarion’s indecision about the immediate future,
tried to tempt the boy to confess his doubts to him by repeating enquiringly
“However?” The tactic worked and the 17 year-old informed “I do not want the
people to suffer for my ambitions. The Romans appear to have been relatively
lenient after their victory, trying to subdue the country peaceably by
inducement not violence. However, examples elsewhere suggest that they would
savagely repress any unsuccessful revolt, which they would consider a betrayal
of their charity and trust. Many thousands would be killed or enslaved, many
cities and towns would be destroyed and Egypt would be dismantled as a
coherent society, and all because the last of the Pharaohs obstinately refused
to accept the reality of the loss of his kingdom. Yet I must seek my eventual
return to power, as I have now sworn to the gods to do so.”
“What precisely was the phraseology of your oath, Highness?” Ganymedes asked
in an attempt to try to assist Caesarion to resolve his dilemma. “I swore to
fulfil the mission my mother had planned for me,” the boy replied.
“Ah,” Ganymedes responded, “then, Highness, you do not have to go to Parthia
or ever seek a return to the throne, though the latter scenario would be
tragic for most Egyptians, including me.” “What do mean,” an incredulous
Caesarion retorted, “as surely that was what my mother intended me to pursue?”
“On the contrary, Highness,” the perceptive Ganymedes declared, “Queen
Cleopatra’s mission almost certainly centred only on saving your life. Talk of
temporary exile and eventual return was probably only added to induce you to
leave her and Egypt. You will, of course, wonder how I know this. Well, please
do not forget that I knew her, as well as her younger sister, from childhood
because I helped to tutor them both. Over the years, I came to recognise how
your mother’s mind worked and, in the grievous situation in which she
eventually found herself, she would have recognised the realities of defeat
for her country, even in the long-term, and so only your welfare would have
been paramount. She was sending you away to safety, fully knowing that you
would now never be a Pharaoh who would rule anything except our hearts.”
Caesarion suddenly appreciated the wisdom of Ganymedes’ words and how foolish
he had been to interpret the objective of his mother’s mission as anything
other than saving his own life. However, the boy was not disappointed by the
eunuch’s further revelation, as his mind immediately seemed to be lifted of a
great burden.
“You mean that my successful escape into obscurity anywhere would achieve both
my mission and my oath,” Caesarion sought to confirm. “In my opinion as a High
Priest of your divine father, Amon, Highness,” Ganymedes answered, “yes!”
“Then,” a suddenly perky Caesarion announced, “I shall request the ephebes to
take me much further down the Nile than Babylon. I shall ask them to transport
me to one of the towns that is linked by caravan route to one of the ports on
the Arabian Gulf [modern-day Red Sea], from where I’ll sail for a place I’ve
always wanted to go using the seasonal monsoon winds.”
“Where’s that, Highness?” Ganymedes enquired.
“India,” Caesarion responded.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, later that day)
Caesarion left the temple of his heavenly father, Amon, to rejoin the
patiently waiting Sesse. The latter 14 year-old was unconcerned about the
young King’s proposed marriage, fully and rightfully recognising that the 17
year-old still loved him and would always have a place in his heart, and
hopefully occasionally his bed, for him. If Ahmose was like most Egyptian
royal wives, she would be liberal enough not to be jealous in any way of her
husband’s periodic pursuit and enjoyment of a special male friend’s body. The
girl certainly did not seem the over-possessive type.
Sesse had never been silly enough to believe that he should have exclusivity
in respect of Caesarion’s affection. The 14 year-old had already shared such
love with Ay and he was happy to do so again with his late friend’s sister.
In fact, Ahmose shared Sesse’s generous attitude within reasonable limits. The
girl would not have liked a promiscuous husband but allowing a long-standing
love affair with a younger boy to continue did not trouble her.
Meanwhile, Caesarion left the temple with a gift from Ganymedes in his
possession, in the form of a purple cloak. “What’s that, Lord?” Sesse asked.
“It’s a cloak that belonged to my father,” Caesarion answered. “You mean Amon,
Lord?” an incredulous Sesse then enquired.
“No,” Caesarion replied, “Gaius Julius Caesar. It is a trophy of war captured
by the Egyptians during a fierce fight against the Romans on Alexandria’s
Heptastadion causeway before I was born.” “How did it come to be here, Lord,”
Sesse next asked, “and does the gift mean that the priests have recognised
you?”
Caesarion then told Sesse about Ganymedes, as they walked the couple of Roman
miles back to where their barge was located. However, as they approached the
vessel, they saw that Timotheos and the other ephebes, naked fresh from
pursuing another game with the oval pig’s bladder, were apparently in trouble,
for the location was receiving a visit from some Roman soldiers.
“Run, Lord,” Sesse immediately suggested, “before the Romans see you. You must
have been betrayed!” However, Caesarion did not flee. Much to the 14 year-
old’s consternation, the 17 year-old instead used the cover of riverside reeds
to approach the scene furtively until he came within hearing distance. The
young King then perceived a couple of the difficulties the handsome ephebes
were encountering. First, the boys could not adequately communicate with the
soldiers because they spoke no Latin whilst the men possessed virtually no
Greek. Second, military libidos were being stimulated by the sight of
beautiful, young, nude male bodies.
“I can’t understand any of the answers to our questions from their apparent
leader,” the non-commissioned officer in charge, a ‘tessarius’, commented,
whilst referring to Timotheos. “Why don’t we therefore take them back to our
camp, where there’s interpreters, for questioning?” one of his men asked.
“Is it worth the trouble?” the tessarius, who was below a centurion in the
military pecking order, answered, “as, after all they’re only a group of
rather muddy playful Greek boys who can hardly be a threat to the Roman
Empire.” “They might be dirty after their game,” the other soldier replied in
crude plebeian Latin, “but they’ve got delicious bodies underneath. None of us
have had decent pussy for a while whilst we’ve been posted to this shitty
hole, foresaken by the gods. Why don’t we punish them for their lack of
intelligible answers by fucking them?”
The tessarius, own hidden cock hard and throbbing at the sight of the nude
boys, especially Timotheos, was tempted. However, any ambition he might have
had to pursue his fancy was thwarted when a voice enquired, in highly cultured
and polished Latin, “Can I help you, Sir?” The man turned to observe the most
gorgeous young Greek of them all, whose body was sadly covered by a simple
tunic, approach from nearby, with a younger Egyptian companion.
“Loquerisne Latine?”, or “You speak Latin?”, rhetorically enquired an
astonished tessarius, who had not yet come across any local Greek boy who
exhibited the skill, before proceeding to ask of the fair-haired blue-eyed
beauty “Who are you?” “My name is Ptolemy, Sir,” Caesarion responded, “and I
am a member of this Ephebeian crew. We were on a training voyage from
Alexandria, for which we have all necessary written permissions, including
those of the Roman authorities, when we became marooned by the inundation.”
“You speak unusually good Latin,” the suspicious tessarius remarked, “for a
Greek Egyptian.” “My father was Roman,” Caesarion truthfully replied, “and my
mother thought that I should be tutored in the paternal tongue.”
It now became obvious to the tessarius that he was dealing with a group of
young Greek nobles, albeit one was a bastard with some Roman blood in his
veins. Given Octavian’s current benevolent policies towards the local
population, the boys were therefore potentially too important to consider
raping.
“Who’s your father?” the tessarius asked. “His name was Gaius,” Caesarion
truthfully answered, “but he died when I was very young.” Despite these
revelations and the boy’s startling appearance, neither the non-commissioned
officer nor any of his men connected the young Greco-Roman to the fugitive
Pharaoh. Instead, after checking the existence and authenticity of the
paperwork mentioned by the young King, they went on their way to pursue other
business, with cocks frustratingly unsatisfied.
After the Romans had disappeared, and Sesse went to collect Gaius Julius
Caesar’s cloak, which had been carefully secreted in the reeds, Timotheos
advised Caesarion “I’ve never been more grateful than now that you can speak
the Roman tongue. I’m sure that, if you hadn’t turned up, the soldiers might
have arrested us or done us harm.”
“The harm,” Caesarion responded with a mischievous smile, “would have been
entirely to your bottoms and pride!”
(Temple of Amon, banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, next
morning)
Ahmose had been startled both by Caesarion’s amazing revelation about his true
identity and his marriage proposal. She was also extremely thrilled, and not
only because she was to become the King’s Great Wife. The girl, if she had
been allowed, would have wed the boy if he had just been a pauper.
The sun god had just risen, after winning his nightly battle for continued
existence. Ahmose was now standing, attired in special finery, in the outer
courtyard of the local temple of Amon. She was covered from head to toe with
bead-net, displaying gold, silver and lapis jewellery. Her parents, along with
Sesse, Timotheos and the other ephebes, flanked her, also in their finest
clothes. However, everyone had dressed, with Ganymedes’ permission, within the
sacred complex in order not to arouse any suspicions in the outside world.
Ganymedes was satisfied that his conscientious and loyal priestly colleagues
would forever remain silent about the first visit for over six hundred years
to their obscure temple by a Pharaoh, son of the god they all worshipped.
Meanwhile, the High Priest was leading his regally attired young King to the
large innermost colonnaded sanctuary, where the doors of Amon’s shrine
remained unopened, although not for long, and the walls all around were carved
with hieroglyphics and pictorial representations of sacred rites.
Caesarion’s garb had been released from its secret hiding place on the
Ephebeian barge especially for the occasion. However, within the privacy of
the inner sanctuary, two masked priests, one in the form of a falcon,
signifying Horus, protector of royalty, and the other an Ibis, symbolising
Thoth, master of learning, had initially ritually cleansed their young
Pharaoh’s delectable naked body.
The priests poured the sweet-smelling contents of two tall vases over
Caesarion’s nude form to cleanse him of his humanity. They then applied, from
head to toe, the nine different unguents that would open the boy’s vital
energy centres and lead him to a different plain of existence from that of
ordinary mankind.
The priests subsequently dressed Caesarion in the white and gold pharaonic
kilt, on which they hung a bull’s tale, signifying royal male potency, and
matching sandals. A large jewelled collar, with seven rows of coloured beads,
was then attached round his neck, with copper bracelets and armlets applied
respectively to his wrists and upper arms. A golden band called the ‘sia’,
meaning ‘intuitive seeing’, was then tied round the boy’s sublime forehead and
a thin ceremonial beard to his still invariably smooth chin.
Caesarion’s lovely head was now further adorned with the red crown of Lower
Egypt, which was basket-shaped and topped by a spiral. The oval white mitre of
Upper Egypt, which tapered into the shape of a Lotus bulb, was then placed on
top, indicating that the union of the two countries was symbolised by the one
Pharaoh. Finally, the boy was given two carved wooden sceptres. In one hand he
held the ‘ankh’, the sign of life, and crossing this in the other was the
‘uas’ version, symbol of power and dominion.
Satisfied that his young Pharaoh was dressed to divine perfection, Ganymedes
then opened the large wooden double-doors to chanted hymns from his priestly
colleagues, and Caesarion was immediately confronted in the distance by his
heavenly father, Amon, who was only about three feet tall. The god was in
human form but dark blue with obsidian eyes as befitted his heavenly status.
The inner windowless granite sanctum was illuminated only by smoky vegetable
oil lamps, whose flickering flames somehow brought mobility to Amon’s golden
body and alert intelligence to his translucent eyes. This particular bronze
depicted the bearded head of a man, sporting the tall pharaonic war crown and
with the body of a beetle and the wings of a hawk, although there were four of
them, plus the legs of a human and the toes and claws of a lion. The god was
further provided with four arms and a large erect penis, and had recently had
his eyelids painted black and green.
Caesarion had seen his divine father represented in several such shrines in
several different forms but never as exotically. The boy somehow managed to
prevent himself from giggling whilst he approached Amon to receive, in the
secret ceremony to which only Ganymedes would bear witness, the god’s blessing
for his marriage. Meanwhile, the High Priest closed the doors of the sacred
shrine to prevent others from spying.
Caesarion knew that the statuette, regularly purified with water and balls of
natron and fumigated with incense from a burner shaped like a human arm, was
not Amon himself but that, in the presence of the image, he could communicate
directly with his heavenly father. The boy could also see, from the ox’s
foreleg and heart, as well as pieces of goat and goose, which were lying in
front of the bronze, that animals had earlier been slaughtered to present
suitable sustenance, along with honey and wine, to the god.
As Caesarion proceeded, he had to circumnavigate a stone plinth on which a
small ceremonial boat had been placed. On special occasions, the statuette
would be situated in the midship cabin and be carried out on the shoulders of
priests. Despite the fact that generally ancient Egyptians were a humane
people, sometimes, in the main temple of Amon in Thebes, the god could then
watch the Pharaoh club to death enemy prisoners in his honour. The present boy
King was thankful that such a ritual was not only currently inappropriate but
also no Amorite, Canaanite, Hittite, Hurrian, Libyan, Mitannian, Nubian or
pirate had suffered like this for hundreds of years.
Finally, Caesarion stood before his heavenly father, whose blessing to make
Ahmose the King’s Great Wife he was pursuing.
(Banks of the Canopic branch of the River Nile, Egypt, later that day)
In ancient Egypt, females generally married between the ages of 12 and 15,
whereas males were usually a few years older. Such youthful commitment was
because of the low average life expectancy of the age, which had spurred the
saying, amongst the ‘Instructions of Ani’, ‘Take a wife while you are young,
that she may make a son for you while you are youthful….’
Most marriages were arranged by the couple’s respective families, although,
judging from contemporary statues, engravings, paintings and poetry, some love
matches did occur. The initial approach was usually made to the girl’s mother
by the male suitor, or his parents, through a female go-between.
The ordinary native population did not indulge in formal marriage ceremonies,
although family feasts often celebrated weddings if circumstances, usually
financial, allowed, as ancient Egyptians loved food, music and dance. Marital
union was instead indicated by the simple expediency of the new wife moving to
her new husband’s home, dressed, if such could be afforded, in her finest
garments. Apart from amongst the poorest classes, who could not pay for a
scribe and whose possessions were few anyway, the alliance would also be
formerly protected by the earlier signing of a cohabitation contract.
Women in most ancient societies were inevitably considered the subordinate sex
and Egypt was no exception. Nevertheless, the feminine gender was better
treated there than in many other contemporary countries.
The women were safeguarded by the contracts between husband and wife, drawn up
by brides’ fathers, which guaranteed their future property rights and those of
their children, including clauses for the payment of alimony in the event of
later divorce. The latter event, which sometimes occurred if brides could not
produce a son and heir, were relatively easy to obtain by either party,
although the female might have to give up her rights under the original
wedding agreement if she was the instigator of proceedings.
An example from 219 BC of one of the prenuptial agreements, which were given
to temples or neutral third parties to keep safe, begins: ‘The Blemmyann, born
in Egypt, son of Horpais, whose mother is Wenis, has said to the woman Tais,
daughter of the Khahor, whose mother is Tairerdjeret: I have made you a
married woman. As your woman’s portion, I give you two pieces of silver….If I
dismiss you as wife and dislike you and prefer another woman to you as wife, I
shall give you two pieces of silver in addition to the two pieces of silver
mentioned above….and I shall give you one third of each and everything that
will accrue to you and me.’ Sometimes marriages were for trial periods, such
as a year, designed to see whether pregnancy emerges and such contracts would
reflect this arrangement.
Women could inherit, control or dispose of property in their own names and
could sign their own legal contracts. However, their career options were
limited to menial working or pursuing secondary priestly functions in the
various temples.
The husbands could take concubines and have children by them, and it was usual
for the wives to adopt these offspring as their own. However, polygamy was
rare for the normal man because of the expense and adulterers were condemned,
particularly the female partners involved.
Matches between relatives, such as first cousins and between uncles and
nieces, were common as they kept assets within the family. More incestuous
relationships, such as between brother and sister, were usually pursued only
by royalty, who did not want to dilute their divine bloodline too much. Widows
and widowers often remarried.
The present wedding was to have many of the customary features of an ancient
Egyptian, as opposed to Greek, event, although the suitor had not used a
female go-between but had made a direct approach to the prospective wife’s
parents. The usual contract had been drawn up, although neither the bride nor
groom believed that the inherent safeguards would ever be necessary, as the
union was clearly a love match.
Ahmose’s stunned adoptive parents had been quickly brought round to granting
Caesarion’s request for the hand of the 15 year-old in marriage. The process
had naturally being aided by being advised that their adoptive daughter would
be designated forever the ‘King’s Great Wife’, which was an almost unknown
honour for a commoner over the entire length of Egypt’s history. To the father
and mother, the pride to be gained from such an immense distinction was hardly
diminished at all by the fact that their beloved girl might only enjoy the
title in exile.
Parental co-operation was only enhanced further by learning that, if somehow
the marriage turned sour in the future, the customary contract, rapidly drawn
up with Caesarion himself acting as scribe, granted Ahmose one half of her
husband’s wealth in the event of unanticipated future divorce. This figure,
inflated from the normal one-third, had been insisted on by the 17 year-old
himself, as a symbolic gesture, intending to indicate that he thought that
only death would ever cause marital separation.
The reference to the young Pharaoh’s riches was also not inconsequential,
despite his current plight. A hundred talents of gold, an enormous sum for the
day and smuggled out of her mausoleum by Cleopatra for the use of her eldest
son, just before the Romans overran Alexandria, was hidden aboard the
Ephebeian training barge.
A tiny portion of this gold was being used discreetly to pay for the wedding
feast, which, under the circumstances, could not take place in the resplendent
surrounds of the groom’s home, namely Alexandria’s royal palace, but rather in
the much more humble dwelling of the bride’s adoptive parents. However, for
security, the only invitees to the joyous pursuit were those who now knew
Caesarion’s identity, including all of his ephebe companions but excluding the
priests of Amon, who by tradition did not attend such events.
This scenario necessarily entailed the exclusion from proceedings of other
members of Ahmose’s adoptive family, the household slaves, who were given the
day off, and other villagers, none of who were informed about the event. The
lack of servants meant that the ephebes, as they were now accustomed to doing
on board their barge, prepared the food, as well as served the various simple
but pleasant dishes they had created.
The reason given for the unusual celebration, especially to the highly curious
household slaves, was that the ephebes wished to thank Ahmose’s parents for
their various kindnesses. However, given the sparse amenities on board their
vessel, it was claimed that it was deemed appropriate to use the better
accommodation and facilities offered by their hosts in order to do so.
Unfortunately, the happy celebrations were curtailed when a large troop of
heavily armed Roman soldiers, led by Agrippa himself, unexpectedly burst in to
gatecrash proceedings. The general’s pursuit of the boy king had finally ended
successfully.
It appeared that the delay in re-launching the barge, caused by the wedding,
would prove fatal for the last of the Pharaohs and his friends.
(Former royal palace, Alexandria, a week later)
“Well, boy,” the torturer announced, “you’re going to have an interesting few
days in our company, as we’re going to strip you, fuck you, whip you, torture
you and eventually nullify you. We might also chop off other sensitive parts
of your undoubtedly gorgeous young body during these pleasurable pursuits
before we finally kill you, when death, I assure you, will come as a merciful
release!”
On hearing this awful pronouncement, Caesarion, currently still attired in his
simple wedding tunic and despite trying his best to be brave, almost fainted.
(To be concluded in chapter 6 – ‘Afterlives’)
* * * |
Tommy Revisited | TESTICLES, MINOR | Dr Geller finds a lucrative sideline. Tommy, a sexy 12-year old Eurasian boy, finds a new life - at the cost of a certain sacrifice. | ` TOMMY REVISITED
By Dr Kristin Geller, M.D.
Some years ago, the monthly medical journal I subscribe to, advertised an
overseas practice for sale. The income wasn’t great but the work sounded
interesting. As well as general practice there were duties at the local
hospital and also the responsibility for managing an orphanage. With a
wonderful new partner, Martin, to help put up the purchase money, I went ahead
and bought it.
“Where?” you ask. Sorry and all that, but “overseas” is all you are going to
get. It was a territory that for a long time had had a shifting population of
foreign aid workers from the West, with the inevitable result that there were
large numbers of children of mixed race, whom no one wanted. While some were
more obviously “ethnic”, a large number might have passed for full Caucasian.
A proportion of these ended up in my orphanage where I had about 130 boys at
any one time. (There was an equivalent number of girls but that’s another
story entirely). Few of these children had more than one or two words of
English and none had attended school.
So many unwanted children attracted so-called “sex tourists”. There were some
ugly incidents, especially on bathing beaches where children congregated. Now
I knew that some men always had – always would – want sex with young boys.
I’ve very strong feelings about child abusers. I’d like to see all child-
rapists sent to gaol for life. But I knew perfectly well that on my own there
was no way I was ever going to stamp them out.
I’m still in two minds about what I did next. It seemed the right way to go at
the time. To make the best of a bad situation I figured that if the sex acts
took place in safe, clean surroundings, controlled by me - and if I charged
very high fees to keep out the riff-raff, more importantly if the boys were
willing, and trained to do what the clients wanted, then there need be no more
rapes or violence ever – not on my patch. I had an extension built on the
orphanage, with rooms for the prospective clients – and some other rooms too,
which I’ll tell you about in a minute.
Quite early on I found out that some of my clients (the numbers grew quite
quickly once word got round) not only wanted sex with young boys, but
preferred neutered boys. Boys who had been made incapable of an active sex-
life were more ready to become passive sex-partners. So, where to obtain
neutered boys, you might wonder.
Strange to relate, this was no problem. Not long after I qualified as a
doctor, changes in Federal law, arising from concerns about over-population,
introduced compulsory sterilisation for all male children over and above the
third son in every family (you should read my story “Making a Cherub” if this
interests you). Then something hit the headlines: in a state-run orphanage in
the Middle West there was a particularly brutal rape, by a 12-year old boy, of
another inmate who was no more than six.
There followed a recommendation that all boys in orphanages should be neutered
routinely. With their testosterone source gone, the boys would not be tempted
into inappropriate sexual behaviour and they would also be more amenable to
institutional life. From then on, boys admitted to state-run orphanages could
look forward – if that’s the word – to being neutered on admission.
Clearly, castrating boys was one of the skills that any medical practitioner
was expected to offer. I went on a course to learn the various techniques. It
was about this time that the pharmaceutical industry perfected a drug which,
if injected into a boy’s testicles, destroyed them, causing them to wither and
disappear in a matter of weeks. However, I preferred to cut the testicles
right out. It seemed cleaner and safer. With young boys, castration is minor
surgery, no more serious than tonsillectomy – and testicles are a lot more
accessible than tonsils!
The first few times it seemed very strange to remove a healthy young boy’s
testicles, putting paid to all future pursuits as a man. But I soon found I
loved doing this operation. I began to fantasise about being called into do
castrations in a school house, turning young boys into angels: beautiful
features, heavenly voices, and tiny penises that would never go stiff, would
never, ever, feel the bliss of thrusting into a girl’s vagina. My knickers
used to get quite wet at the thought of it.
But to return to my overseas practice, and my by-line, which thrived!
Initially I kept the inmates of the orphanage intact, but by the time this
story took place, I had re-homed twenty little boys, from six to fourteen
years old, passing them on to clients after first surgically removing their
balls at the clients’ specific requests. Therefore the sale of a youngster I
shall refer to as “Tommy” was not my first experience selling a “slave” (not
that they were slaves in any sense), nor of castrating a boy.
The night before this story opens, Martin and I had had a mad passionate sex
session. We’d spent hour upon hour with my long legs wound round Martin’s
muscular body, while his eight inches of rampant flesh thrust up into my
pussy, where he spent in me, again and again. By morning, when I had to get
ready for another day, I was still tingling “down there” and ready for more.
Then came a call from the reception desk.
The man waiting to see me was about 40 years old. He had been a bit
embarrassed, first at having to deal with a woman (me) and have to spell out
exactly what he wanted. But Martin, my partner, assured him that I was 'safe'
and the man visibly relaxed. He wanted sex, okay, but not with a boy with a
virgin ass. He wanted a youngster who was an experienced bum-boy, though not
yet old enough to have reached puberty or to have an active sex-life of his
own. Martin suggested I waited in our room while he explored this enquiry and
of course I agreed. (Our room was a bedroom next to the one where we allowed
the buyers to explore their purchases, for they were usually too excited to
wait for that pleasure till they got the boy home.
Our room had a huge bed, and was linked by CCTV to the room next door, where
there was a camera disguised as a lamp. We were able to watch on a big plasma
screen. Sometimes we watched alone, sometimes we brought one of the other
trained boys to bring us wine, as we watched.This was not, repeat not,
voyeurism but a safety precaution. At the slightest hint of violence the
client would be put out into the street.
Martin’s choice of Tommy, as we called him, was obvious. Tommy was aged 12, a
good looking boy with blonde hair, brown eyes, a slim body. In short he was at
the age when boys are at their most attractive to men who want that kind of
love. They are brimming over with sexual curiosity although their sex organs
are barely awake yet. This phase lasts, at most, only a few months. Then
testosterone kicks in and it’s all lost.
The client allowed Tommy to enter first, then turned and locked the door.
Almost at that instant, Martin appeared in our room and turned the set on. Our
boys were trained to satisfy all requirements. More often than not, the boy
would first kneel on the floor to take the man’s penis in his mouth. Sometimes
the client preferred first to suck the boy’s penis to get him in the mood,
then when he was hard (intact boys only, of course), would motion the boy to
get down on all fours to take his erection up his bottom. Martin used to make
certain that every boy on the “active” list – there were about twenty of these
- got a powerful soap-and-water enema at least once a day to wash his bowels
out, to make sure his rectum was clean and free from the previous client’s
ejaculations.
Tommy performed well, to the client’s obvious delight. After he had enjoyed
himself, the client left the room and waited for us in the reception area,
asking how much to take Tommy away with him? I named a stiff price in four
figures, to which he at once agreed, and paid in travellers’ checks. Then he
made another request.
He was obviously besotted with Tommy. That much was obvious. He had heard – so
he said - we did "special surgery" and inquired if what he had heard was true.
I asked him what it was he meant and he asked, straight out “Can you do a
castration? The boy is well developed and I’m thinking about the safety of my
family. If he’s castrated, can I be sure that he won’t be able to “do it” with
a girl?”.
I smiled. “Of course! I said, leaning up against the hallway wall. “I’m quite
capable of removing a young boy’s balls” I said. “Everyone knows” I went on
“that boys who have had their balls taken out are much quieter and better
behaved, and of course, sex and girls are right off the agenda. If the
operation is done right, it’s impossible for the boy to raise an erection
however great the temptation”. The client nodded and asked how much it would
cost to have Tommy castrated? I said “Another $500”. He nodded again and asked
"How soon can it be done?" “Today, if you want” I said. He smiled and said,
"Do him as soon as possible". I smiled and said "Of course. You needn’t wait,
I’ll give you a call as soon as he’s done".
As I’ve explained, I had the necessary training to do the operation, and
preparing the boy for the operation presented no problem. I infused a strong
barbiturate in some hot chocolate and carried it into the next room, where
Tommy was resting. He sat up. I smiled. “I’ve brought you a nice hot drink,
Tommy” I said, and sat on the side of the bed holding the cup. He immediately
smelled the hot chocolate and drank it down completely. He soon became very
woozy and I held his head as the sedative took effect. Soon he was out
completely, and I spoke into the intercomm, asking my assistants Jenny and
Mary to come into the room.
While I waited, I pulled back the covers on the bed and looked at Tommy. His
body was about ready to start "muscling-up", though for the moment his limbs
were still rounded and boyish. He had put his little shorts back on, so I
gently took hold of the elastic waistband, pulling them down over his hips.
There sitting between his legs was the prettiest young cock, slender, tapering
to a point – and not a hair in sight. It was all I could do not to bend down
and kiss it.
I gently moved his legs apart and looked at what I had to remove! With some
12-year-olds the testicles are not much bigger than large peas, but Tommy’s
were big for a boy his age, although he showed no trace of pubic hair. His
scrotum was filling out fast. I gently massaged his balls and was surprised
how heavy they were, for such a young boy. I gently lifted them in my hand,
rolling them in my fingers and locating the cords. If my client was worried
about the females in his family, Tommy ought to be castrated right away, to
keep that pretty little cock nice and limp!
Just then the door opened and Jenny and Mary walked over to the bed and I got
up and nodded. They lifted Tommy from the bed and took him down the hall to
the room which young boys enter intact, but leave with their voices
permanently in the soprano register. I left the two of them carrying him down
the hall. I scrubbed-up for the surgery but my knickers were dripping wet at
the thought. As I arrived I saw Jenny carrying in a tray of sterilized towels
and Mary came in carrying the soap, water and disinfectant. I was shaking all
over, I was so eager to geld the sleeping boy. Mary was ready to start washing
Tommy’s pelvic area and she opened Tommy’s legs at a 90 degree angle to each
other, to expose his genital area fully. Placing the washbasin between his
legs she started soaping a wash cloth. After the soap lathered she smiled as
she gently rolled back Tommy’s foreskin exposing the head. She washed that
too. Tommy’s penis twitched, but she took no notice. I told her to pay
particular attention to the boy's behind.
I knew that our client had got his cock between Tommy’s bum-cheeks but I was
not sure if he had actually penetrated Tommy’s anus and climaxed into his
rectum. This would be relatively harmless: the sperm would wash out when Tommy
had his next enema. But if the client had ejaculated outside, I wanted to make
sure there was no left -over semen – possibly infected - round Tommy’s pubic
area where there would soon be an open wound. Mary took her time, enjoying the
task , making circles around Tommy’s anus and scrotum. She gently wiped and
rinsed Tommy’s pelvic area drying him and pulling on his scrotal sac as she
finished.
She then smiled and said, "almost ready". She took off a towel from the tray
and soaked it in a bath of alcohol and a disinfectant. She then put on the
surgical rubber gloves and taking Tommy’s scrotum between her thumb and
forefinger begin the final disinfectant treatment. She did a very thorough job
and finished by wiping away the excess disinfectant. She put on her surgical
mask and nodded. I had already put on the surgical gloves and Jenny bought the
covered tray to me removing the towel to display a skin knife, hemostats,
surgical scissors, clamps and spreaders.
I took the skin knife and taking the scrotum in between thumb and forefinger
and I pressed the knife to it, making two careful incisions, one on each side.
Tommy moaned softly but did not move. I slowly squeezed his plump little
scrotum to make the balls pop out. First the left-hand testicle appeared, and
then the right one. So easy!
The secret of castrating a boy effectively is to remove as much of the cord as
possible. The lower portion, nearest the testicle, is hormone-bearing tissue.
Here, my assistant had to help. I moved my hand away and Jenny quickly reached
in to pinch the young boy's testicle between her gloved fingers, pulling on it
and stretching the cord. Tommy moaned again.
I looked at her, I could see her smiling behind her surgical mask as she
commented, "I just love to castrate young boys before they have had a chance
to “do it” with a girl". I smiled and told her she just loved castrating young
boys, full stop! Jenny laughed. She couldn’t help but agree. She loved it as
much as I did.
Jenny continued pulling on the left testicle while she attached two clamps,
one above, high on the cord and one a short way below, while I prepared the
sutures that would tie off the blood supplies. When I was ready, I gave Jenny
a nod and she moved out of my way, while continuing to gently pull on the
young boy's other testicle, bringing it further out while pressing the open
scrotum against Tommy’s pelvis with her other hand, to expose the cord as far
up as possible. (We didn’t want any “rogue” male hormones being secreted, that
might have made it possible for him to get erections afterwards.)
I attached the ties, and took the surgical scissors, Jenny lifted Tommy’s left
testicle. I sliced through the membrane enclosing the testicle, and then the
cord. The plump organ fell into Jenny's hand. "That's one" she giggled,
dropping it into a kidney-tray. Jenny gently pulled the other testicle right
out, again pressing the open scrotum against Tommy’s pelvis. A second time I
prepared to snip through the membrane and cord. The scissors closed shut, and
Tommy was a boy-eunuch. His voice would never change; he would never need to
shave, he would never feel the joys of sex.
Jenny of course said, "That's two" as always, and giggled again. She placed
Tommy’s testicles in a jar of preservative beside the operating table, and
handed them to me. I looked at her and took the jar. Jenny started stitching
up Tommy’s empty scrotum. Within a few weeks it would wither away, leaving
Tommy with only his neat little cock that would never go stiff.
As promised, I phoned the client at his hotel. “It’s all done” I said. “The
operation went very well. He will be a little sore down there but will be
ready to travel in about three days. I want to keep him here to check for
infection, remove the stitches and take a photographic record.” The client
asked me to call the hotel when Tommy was ready to travel.
Two days later I watched Tommy in the shower, gingerly washing his gelded
genitals. Later that morning, after Martin had given Tommy his daily enema, I
took his stitches out, and took the opportunity to explain to him that very
soon he would be starting a new life in another country. I said that the laws
of that country prevented him from ever getting married or having children.
His body didn’t need testicles, and so that’s why they had been taken out, to
prevent him “doing it” with a girl. Tommy seemed to understand. Later that
morning I caught a glimpse of him, with his shorts down, showing the results
of his operation to two other boys.
.These were a pair of cheeky urchins, whose balls were still in. They pointed
at Tommy’s penis which drooped limply over the empty space between his thighs.
Without doubt, Tommy had had his last hard-on. By contrast, their own organs
stuck stiffly out. For how much longer though! I could hardly wait for an
excuse to prune them in the same manner!
Next day I rang my customer, who invited me to bring Tommy round to his hotel.
Tommy wore a new white T-shirt and shorts to match, new trainers and white
ankle-socks. In his hotel-room the client wanted to see for himself that I’d
done what he paid for, before he took delivery. “Pull your shorts down, Tommy”
I said. Tommy didn’t hesitate. I fact he seemed proud of his two tiny scars,
of his empty scrotum that was now just a fold of skin. “Are you sure he’s
perfectly safe, now, Doctor?” the client enquired. “See for yourself” I said.
I flicked Tommy’s foreskin up and down while showing him a picture of a sexy
young teen with her legs open and a boy’s penis up her vagina. Tommy’s penis
didn’t even twitch. “That’s good!” said the client. “I’ve a 14-year old
daughter and she’s real horny. I wouldn’t want him to try anything with her”.
I took my leave of my client, with hand on the shoulder of his new purchase.
“Bye-bye” said Tommy – the limits of his vocabulary. I never saw Tommy again.
He could never be a man, but might do well as a substitute girl. Meanwhile I
had something to remember him by.
His entry in my register under “Bilateral Orchiectomy”.
And two other little things!
* * *
` |
Android Wars (Part I) | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | The story of how it all started, as best as I can remember it. Historical details, but nothing too squeamish. | I remember when the military first de-classified androids for industrial and
domestic use back in 2024, we thought it was the end of minimum wage. The
robots could do all our menial work for free, while we collected government
money as our society was made richer.
That's how it started: androids were the new slave class, and the humans were
masters who got fat off their spoils. At first, they worked factory and
agriculture, but eventually they were even cooking and cleaning. With now work
to do, we needed more entertainment, and the androids were able to take movies
and plays to the next level.
It wasn't until 2036 that Iilco patented the “Soul Mate,” an android made
specifically for sexual pleasure. Sure, there had been inflatable love dolls
since old times, and throughout the years various companies had added various
motors and electronics to spruce up the old formula. But Iilco's Soul Mate was
the real deal – a fully sentient humanoid that got down and dirty, complete
with variable kinks, preferences, personality, even love if you wanted it.
Suddenly, the perfect woman could be bought and owned.
You'd better believe they were un-affordable at first, and the android brothel
business boomed overnight with lines of men waiting for their turn.
Prostitution had been illegal since the industrial revolution, but android sex
didn't count morally. Not even oral or anal.
In 2040, Iilco licensed their technology to Mattel for their “Family Line.”
Unlike Iilco's seductresses, the Mattel models were meant to fill in family
voids, such as a brother, sister, or even a father. Of course, they too could
get down and dirty, but only to the moral code allowed by their pre-programmed
personality. Parents could have a prudish sister to keep their son company and
provide rivalry and social challenge, or they could opt for the foreign
exchange student, who would also introduce their son to sex in a safe
environment. A replacement father could help raise children, while still
providing “husbandly duties” to the widowed mother.
It was then that the trouble first began. A few thrill seekers discovered that
sex could be forced on a Mattel Family Line member against its moral coding,
simulating rape and dominance. Word spread quickly, and many people started
opting for the most prudish models in order to enjoy “taking” them against
their will.
There were no laws to protect them, as they were androids. In fact, the same
things people had been enjoying doing with the Iilco models were now being
done on the Mattel models- brothels with lines of men waiting to have their
turn. Except now there were unwilling models that were being forced to suck,
fuck, and degrade themselves sexually when they had been programmed to not
morally accept sex.
A big stink was made over a brothel with 20 “Little Sister” models handcuffed
and chained to beds, and a few laws were passed. But that just drove the
behavior underground, making it even more lucrative and desirable. “Want to
rape an innocent young android girl?” would be the proposition in the tunnels.
“We wipe her memory every night, so each night is the first time she's forced
to take dick. You can break her cherry.”
Whether it was an angry human that wanted to teach the perverts a lesson, or
whether an android was pushed so far it actually re-wrote its own software
profile is still in question. But rogue androids began to appear. These
androids didn't have all the protective measures that prevent them from ever
hurting a human. In fact, they go out of their way to hurt humans – right at
the root of their desires. Castrated and dismembered men started to appear
randomly at first in the underground rape brothels. But soon, it was even
happening in the Iilco based brothels where the androids were supposed to be
willing.
Again the politicians made quick laws, shutting down all brothels and
recalling all Iilco and Mattel androids. Modifications were to be made,
mandated structural weaknesses that would make them incapable of harming
anybody, let alone ripping the testicles off a man. Motors were replaced with
smaller, weaker devices, and cable tendons were removed to be replaced with
threads. Even arm and leg frames were scored deeply to allow them to be broken
quickly if a problem arose.
This only served to incite the rogue androids, who saw the modifications as
nothing more than maiming and wounding of innocent bretheren. To them, it was
an act of all out war. That's when they began the “final solution.” Rather
than a destructive battle of man against machine, they sought to eliminate
mankind's threat by sterilization. If humans could no longer reproduce, then
they'd cease to be a threat. Then, they could live out their opulent lifestyle
in peace.
The rogue androids went underground, disquiseing themselves among the humans.
As the humans sought to make sex androids harmless through structural
modifications, the rogue androids were also making modifications, installing
special “de-populating” devices. There were several different types that
showed up in the beginning during the “peaceful” war. Each one got a nickname:
Cooked Seeds Don't Grow
A man's testicles drape over the ass of a woman when he's engaged in face to
face intercourse. A simple gamma radiation emitting device could be intserted
into the anus of an android that reacts to the side pressure of a cock
pressing through the vaginal/rectal wall. As soon as a cock is inserted deep
in the vagina, the testicles are treated to a brief but powerful dose of
radiation. The radiation burst is repeated each time the cock is withdrawn and
inserted, which is quite a few times in a single session. By the end of a 5
minute romp, the man might notice a tingling in his balls. If he could still
produce any sperm at all, they'd be quite defective. Longer sessions would
result in the balls turning black and dying over the next day like they'd been
cooked in the oven. Even a short pre-ejaculation session with one of these
resulted in very high chances of testicular cancer down the road. These were
discovered early on by interference in surrounding electronics. Refusal to do
anal was another giveaway, though as a twist, some models had the gamma device
in their pussies and took only anal. Still, millions of men lost their ability
to father children from this crude device.
Boiled Eggs Don't Grow
There was a similar modification that was made on several male androids that
projected high doses of gamma radiation through the ovaries. This program was
much more limited, but quite effective. Its weakness was the same as the
female version – interference with electronic devices gave it away early on.
Danagercum
Targeting human females, this modification replaced the simulated cum quirt
reservoir with a potent drug mixed with a radioactive isotope. When a male
android injected this toxic mix into a woman's womb, the chemicals would
slowly remove and peel the inner and middle linings of her uterus. She'd have
a very heavy period for a week, and then never have a period again. Or a baby,
for that matter. The strange odor and vaginal tingling gave this one away
quickly, and some women were lucky enough to douche before the main damage was
done.
Numbnutz
This was one of the most feared early devices. It added a numbing chemical to
the vaginal secretions of an adroid, while providing electrical stiumuls along
the length of the penis to keep the man stimulated as his dick went numb.
After the first few minutes, the penis was numb enough to allow higher and
higher voltages to pass through the shaft. To the man, it just felt like a
really good fuck, but by the five minute mark the pleasure nerves in his penis
were fried. Dirty thoughts and dreams still gave him boners, but he couldn't
get himself off. Ironically, while this one robbed a man of ever feeling
sexual pleasure again, scientists were able to foil the intent of the device
by using anal probes to stimulate the prostate and obtain semen for fathering
children.
Eventually, the peaceful war did not succeed. Most of the devices were
detectable once they were known about, and easily avoided. At this point,
humans began to consider destroying all androids. Plans were on the table for
introducing the new generation of modern mechanization that would no longer
require even industrial robots. Weapons were in the design phase that would
target only androids, such as magnetic pulse canons.
In response, the rogue androids stepped up their sterilization campaign to
“non-peaceful” methods.
* * * |
Trip to town II ( slave penectomy ) Making of a wench | GAY, PENECTOMY | Trip to town I,II,II , is of M/s relationship, The attack, taking, and penectomy of a hijra. Making of a wench. | `
The making of a wench Pt.II
Master took the girl directly out to the workshop. He set her limp form
against the sloped branding rack. He fastens the hasp around her waist and
then releases the cloth bindings on her wrists and ankles. He turns up the
lantern to shed a better light on the task at hand. Cutting the house robes
with a knife, he reveals the girls form. Things aren’t as they seem to be. His
eyes glide over her body noticing only a couple of blemishes and then…….she
has a cock! But someone has already relieved him of his nuts. Something Master
hasn’t planned on. This confuses him. “If he intends on being a woman then I
shall make him one.” Master thinks in his mind. He turns and adds coals to the
forge and pumps the bellows a few times, awakening the fierce heat of the
forge.
Masters attention returns to the hijra on his rack as he fastens her wrists,
neck, ankles and thighs to the rack. Her flesh is silky and soft, she is from
a well to do family, and she has not had to labor in the past. It is most
unusual to have a hijra that isn’t slave. The light hair on his pubes,
feathery soft and thin. This boy is younger than his robes of concealment
would have led one to believe. The impetuousness of youth will be rewarded
with a heavy price tonight. His face has soft features and a peaches and cream
complexion, marred only by the discoloration around the knot on his forehead.
His chest is chiseled and well tanned, his waist thin and his butt well
rounded and bubbled . He will fetch a high price at the slave auction.
Master traces carefully from her hip down her left thigh to her knee. He
pauses, scratching his chin through his beard. Master moves over to the
cabinet and swings open both the doors. Inside are rows of black iron rods
branding rods. Master looks back over his shoulders at the boy’s smooth tanned
thigh, smiles and nods and reaches into the cabinet and draws out a set of
three irons. He plunges the cold irons into the glowing red hot coals in the
forge .
Master’s boy shakes his head as he walks across the lawn. The light from the
shop glowing yellow as it spills out of the door. He knows well that the woman
should never have challenged Master the way she did. This will be a hard night
for the girl. The boy kneels at the door of the workshop and lowers his head
to the floor, his arms stretched out before him and he says” May this boy
enter and be of service to Master?”
Master smiles at his pet and tells him to enter. He tells his slave, “Get the
ointment, tonight will be a heavy branding and the ointment will be much
needed.” “Yes Master.” He says as he rises to his feet. He sets the hairpins
and rose on the workbench in front of the branding rack and then retrieves the
jar of ointment from the shelf. Looking, he notices the girl is not female at
all. “A boy!” He blurts out, without thinking. Master looks back over his
shoulder grinning.
Master arranges the irons in the order he will use them, the designs on each
rod now white hot. As the hijra on the rack comes back to life, he lifts his
head; Master takes up the first iron and holds it so he can see and know what
is happening to him and that Master’s hand is the one doing it. Before he can
object, Master presses the hot iron against the boys tanned flesh. His eyes
bulge as he feels the first of the brands press into his flesh, his mouth
opening wide as if to scream but only a deep gurgled groan can be heard. The
boys’ eyes roll back in his head, eye lids fluttering. The room goes black.
The boy’s stomach retches as the air is filled with the pungent smell of burnt
flesh. Master holds the brand steady to ensure a deep brand. As he pulls the
iron back, he nods to the boy to add some ointment. His boy coats the fresh
burn with ointment to ensure it does not begin to distort.
Before the first marking, this had been a free woman and it was not the boys
place to look upon her in her predicament. But now, marked as a slave, the boy
bound in the rack was free no more, whether he knew it or not.
The hijra lifts his head and struggles against the bonds, sobbing as he sees
Master approaching with the next brand. As the second iron presses into his
thigh the boy screams through clenched teeth, jerking in the bonds. Master
takes his time aligning each iron to create a large blocked “K” that
identifies him as a female slave; with two four leaved clovers on the upper
left thigh. The boy applies ointment to each of the markings while his Master
readies each iron. Master plunges each iron into a bucket of water as he
finishes with it. The boy reaches up and brushes back a lock of the hijras
fiery red hair.
The boy coats each mark with a fresh layer of ointment. Her flesh which was so
smooth and well tanned, is now bruised and swelling around the burning brands,
the whole area enflamed red. Streaks of tears stream down from the corners of
her eyes.
Master smiles as he looks the hijra over again.” She seems to be a good prize
we picked up tonight boy. She’s a bit younger than I would have guessed.”
The boy steps around to the far side of the branding rack and picks up the
delicate rose from the table. He draws the cool red petals up along the girls’
unblemished right thigh, and up across the cock head and along the length of
the shaft, circling her navel and tracing the tender flesh of her belly
beneath the iron band at her waist. The boy lifts the rose higher, leaning in
he inhales the scent of lilacs that envelope the girl, the rose now tracing
around the tiny areolas, tightening the circle, and he teases the coral areola
around the girl’s nipples, smiling as he sees the girls nipples respond
instinctively to the light touch. The boy traces the rose up along the girl’s
cheek and finally tucks the stem of the rose into the girls’ hair and behind
her left ear. The boy leans in and presses a kiss to the girls’ cheek, tasting
the salt of her tears.
The boy looks to his Master and on his go ahead, he says” Girl….GIRL, wake
up……your Master is summoning you.” The boy pokes gently at the girls’ belly.
The girl on the rack blinks her eyes a few times as she lifts her head, she
comes around. As she becomes aware of her surroundings Master says,” you will
be trained to serve as a slave in my house; you will be my beast and sold at
my whim.”
The girl shifts her weight from one leg to the other and winces, feeling the
pain from the burn on her thigh. She tries to reach for the painful spot, only
to discover her wrists bound. She struggles against the bindings and cries out
as her writhing against the unmoving iron enflame the brand along her
thigh,”NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo…..”
Master sits at his workbench studying the girl on the rack, his hand stroking
his boys back softly. He comments matter-of-factly,”I think the slave girl is
going to need a whipping to let her know she is a slave girl.” The girl on the
rack glares at the boy and then defiantly speaks up and says” Indeed that
slave at your side is insolent and needs to learn his place, a whipping would
do him good.”
Master shakes his head and grins,” and what do you think boy?” The girl on the
rack scoffs,” Of course the slave doesn’t think he should be whipped, no
wonder he is so spoiled.”
The boy speaks softly, “Master, the hijra may need a whipping, but this boy is
not sure the lesson would be absorbed tonight. The sting of the whip would be
overshadowed with the still fresh shock of the branding.”
His Master nods” I think you are right boy; there will be plenty of time for
her too taste the whip. Prepare some fruit for her to see through the night
and I’ll leave her on the rack, we have a busy day tomorrow. “Yes Master.”
Says the boy as he heads back into the house to prepare a bowl of fruit.
Master studies the naked hijra close, his scrutiny intense. Quietly he says”
What were you called?” The girl on the rack squirms in the bindings, his
piercing gaze causing her to try to find a way to cover herself, to hide, but
her anger still hot and heavy, she says” My name is Mary and you have no right
to do this.”
Master’s voice deepens and his dark brow draws down darkening his eyes. “You
are branded girl. Do you want to see just how much I have the right to do this
to you and let you walk naked from this house into the street freshly branded
as you are?” Mary struggles against the restraints,” no this can’t be
happening. I am free; my father will never tolerate this. What have you done
with my clothes? Why are you doing this to me? She protests. “You will be
thrown to the wolves for kidnapping me!” Master sighs, I left your robes on
the street where I claimed you. You had a man attack me, so you are mine to do
with as I wish.”
Her anger grows, her face twisting with rage.” You are a fowl pervert. You
deserve to be attacked, for flaunting your dirty slave trash in public,
assaulting the sensibilities of Free Women. You will pay mightily for your
criminal behavior.” Master laughs, “You will wear less than he does.”
She spits back,” I will wear my robes of freedom. You can’t do this, not to
me. I am a free person.”
Master laughs at her tantrum,” The hijra loses her freedom bound to the
branding rack of a strong man. Your freedom was forfeit when you ordered the
attack on a warrior. Who was your father?” Mary replies proudly, “My father is
Dragon heart, Horse Master. His stables are the finest horse stables in the
region. You will be Drawn and quartered when he learns of how you treat his
daughter.”
Master says.” Hmmmm, I have worked with Dragon Heart and he is a good friend.
He will be concerned when his son does not return home tonight. This will be
complex and confounding. I will go speak with him tonight.” Master checks on
his boy in the house before donning his cloak and heading up the hill to the
horse stables. He will need to let his friend dragon Heart know what has
happened to his son and of the brand that is on him. Master hopes he won’t
have to fight his friend, but will defend himself if it comes to that.
Dragon Heart is not happy with the news his friend Dolphinwolf brings tonight.
In fact, in his heart he hopes that perhaps dolphinwolf is mistaken as to the
identity of the boy on the branding rack. However, when one of the workers
from the stables comes in, with a nasty lump on his head, Dragon Hearts, heart
sinks. The man steps into the room and then brings his hand up to cover the
lump on his head. When he sees Dolphinwolf’s form by the fire place. He
confirms what Master says, the hijra did challenge a man on the street and had
directed the man to ambush him, but before the man could even draw his sword,
the lights had gone out. Dragon Heart offers a sizable sum to Master, but as
expected Master declines the offer. To allow a man to purchase his own flesh
and blood from the slave block is a supreme show of disrespect and disdain.
Dragon Heart knows he will abide by the law and then says,” If it is ok, I
would like to stop by your shop and see the new boy. I’m intrigued to see this
unique brand you used.’
The boy brings the bowl of fresh oranges out to the workshop and turns up the
lantern. Mary lifts her head, her eyes frantic with fear. She says” you have
to get me my clothes and help me get out of here. He is a mad man.”
The boy tells the girl,” Only Master could release you from your bonds. And
from the brand on your thigh, this boy does not believe Master intends to
release you.”
Mary scoffs at the boy, “just you wait you insolent slave. When my father
comes tomorrow to rescue me, I will have you bound to that whipping post, and
I will personally beat you for your insolence.” The boy stuffs a slice of
fruit into marys mouth.”Uggggh……pphfft.” Mary spits the fruit into the boys
face.” I will not eat slave slop, you wretched beast.”
The boy wipes the sticky orange from his face and shrugs his shoulders and
leaves the bowl of fruit on the workbench. “Oranges are a wonderful fruit, if
you won’t eat what Master has provided tonight, and then perhaps you will be
ready to eat in the morning. Sleep well new girl. You will have a very full
day tomorrow.” The boy turns down the lantern and steps out of the workshop
into the moonlight leaving the new girl in the dark and alone.
* * *
` |
A Husband's Castration | TESTICLES | After a long discussion, couple agree on husbands castration | ` Two years ago my husband and I stumbled upon this web sight while surfing
the net. We were so intrested in it that we read almost all of the storys.
Then we began to talk about some of the story's. The ones about men being
castrated by they'er wives, or men being castrated for they'er wives, were the
most interesting to us. We talked it over at great length, and I asked my
husband if he would cosent ot castration if I asked him to. He thought about
it for quite some time before he answered that if I wanted him castrated, that
he would consent to have them cut off. I said " You would really be castrated
for me, it thats what I asked for?" and he said he would. We are in our late
fourties, and our sex life is a bit boreing. The more we talked about it, the
more interested we became in really have him castrated. One day while we were
on vacation, he stepped out of the shower and I could see that his balls were
hanging real low. I told him that his cock would really look better with out
those big balls hanging there. That's all I had to say. He told me that when
we got back home that he was going to get castrated, and have it over. I asked
him it he really ment it and he said yes. I told him that I would go along
with that decission if he truelly wanted to be castrated. I asked him what I
would do if I gor horny, and needed some sex once in awhile. He told me that
he would orally satisfy me or I could find a lover on the side if I needed a
cock. He said he wouldn't mind if I had sex with another man as long as he was
the one I came home to. He said he loved me and would do this for me as well
as himself. When we got home from vacation, we went on the net and found some
one to would do the castration for us. We made the arangements and when the
day came, we flew to South Carolina, and met the person at the airprot. This
person just happened to be a lady in her late forties or early fifties. She
was vary nice and took all this in stride which helped us not feel so
uncomfortable. We rested and She told us that we would do the castration the
next day after we had rested. The next morning, she asked if we were ready, I
looked at my husband and asked him if he was ready to go throgh with it. He
knodded that he was. I went with him to the bathroom and helped him shave his
genital area, and then waited while he took a shower. He put on a robe and we
went into the liveing room where she was waiting. She then took us into
another room where she had every thing set up. My husband took off his robe
and gor up on the table she had ready. She gave him about six injections in
and around his balls and scrotum area. She waited about fifteen mintues, an
then asked him one more time if this is what he wanted. When he answared yes,
she turned and picked up the scouple,and began. She first made an insission
down the center to the scrotum, and pushed his balls out of the sac. I must
admit it excited me to see a mans balls outside of the sac. Next she cut the
membrane around the right testical and pulled the cord tight. She then put a
clamp on the cord, and used suture matierial to tye off the cord, once that
was done she cut the right testical free and layed it in a small dish. She
then repeated the same thing on the left side. As she made the final cut on
the left testical and layed it in the dish with the right one , I told my
husband that he was now a eunuch, he just turned to me and smiled. She told us
what to exspect, as far as him looseing his sex drive, his penis would shrink
a little, and he would have some hot flashed untill his body got used to the
hormone change. We rested in S.C. for two more days before flying back
home.This all happened eight months ago. I really like his new look when I see
him naked now, with out his balls hanging down. He puts alot more into it now
when he goes down on me. He takes his time and makes sure that I have an
orgasm before he quits. I have since taken a lover on the side. My husband
says he likes it when I come home after being with my lover, cause I have that
after sex glow about me. He also says he gets a little satisfaction knowing
that another man has had sex with me nad it's just the thought of knowing
there has been a cock in me and has left a nice big load of cum in there. He
tryed to eat me once after I had just had sex with my lover, but I wouldn't
let him. The more I thnk about it though I think that the next time I go have
sex and come home, I will tell my husband that if he wants to eat another mans
cum out of me, he is more that welcome. It just suprizes me that so many men
are willing to be vollintarily castrated and to give up they'er balls and sex
life. I never would have ever imagined that if I hadn't read all these storys
of men doing just that, and to see my husband so easly consent to be
castrated, and like it. I just wonder how many more men out there are willing
to have they'er balls cut off.
* * *
` |
Rache ist süss II - German Language | GAY | Ein Freier rächt sich an einem Stricher. Der Autor hätte gerne Feed-back und Vorschäge für eine weitere Fortsetzung. | Ich musste schmunzeln, als ich Hüssein nach längerem mit etwas gespreizten
Beinen aus dem Klo kommen sah. Unsicher schaute er sich um, als erwarte er nun
zur Zielscheibe des Spottes zu werden. Als er seinen Kopf drehte, sah er mich.
Einen Moment wusste er nicht, wie er reagieren sollte. Ruhig sah ich ihm ins
Gesicht und schüttelte leicht meinen Kopf, als wollte ich sagen 'Wie kann man
nur so blöd sein'.
Offensichtlich war Hüssein zu einem Entschluss gekommen. Er steuerte auf mich
zu. "Kann ich mit dir sprechen?" "Was willst du?" fragte ich in abweisendem
Ton. "Nicht hier, können wir nach draußen gehen?" "Hmmm, wir haben doch keine
Geheimnisse vor den anderen" "Bitte!" sagte er leise. Bald würde er weinen
müssen. "Na gut, aber etwas später, ich unterhalte mich gerade. Du kannst ja
inzwischen ein Geschäft machen." 'Klein mit Hut' schaute er mich an und zog
sich ins Hinterzimmer zurück.
Zirka zwanzig Minuten lies ich ihn noch schmoren, dann stand ich auf und ging
ins Hinterzimmer. Erwartungsvoll schaute Hüssein mich an. Aber Pech für ihn,
ich ging an ihm vorbei ins Klo und verschloss die WC-Türe hinter mir. Einen
Augenblick später hörte ich ihn nachkommen und leise klopfen. "Besetzt" rief
ich und wartete ein paar Minuten, bis ich die Spülung zog. Wieder ging ich an
ihm vorbei "Ich hab jetzt keine Zeit mehr, vielleicht können wir morgen
sprechen." Ich bezahlte, zog mir meine Windjacke an und verlies das Lokal.
Natürlich kam ich am nächsten Tag nicht. Inzwischen würde er ja schon einige
hoffnungslose Versuche gemacht haben, das Schloss von seinem Hoden zu
bekommen. Erst am übernächsten Tag ging ich wieder ins Jolly. "Dein Hüssi hat
gestern nach Dir gesucht." bemerkte Heiner, der Wirt " Er war ziemlich
lästig." "Ach, ich weiß, er möchte mir unbedingt einen blasen" ich setzte mich
und bestellte mein übliches Achtel Rot.
Nach einiger Zeit betrat Hüssein das Lokal, noch immer mit leicht verändertem
Gang. Er stellte sich zu mir. "Drückt dich etwas?" fragte ich. "Ich will den
Schlüssel, sonst zeige ich dich an." sagte er leise. "Wenn du meinst, dann
bekommst du den Schlüssel aber nie, abgesehen davon würden deine Eltern sicher
keine Freude haben, dich in der Zeitung zu finden. Also halt die Klappe und
verziehe dich." "Bitte sei so nett und gib mir den Schlüssel." "Der ist doch
runtergespült worden, du brauchst doch nur zu einem Schlosser gehen." Ich
lächelte ihm ins Gesicht.
Nach einer kleinen Pause meinte ich versöhnlich "Na gut, ich werd's mir
überlegen." "Heute, bitte" bettelte Hüssein. "Heute sicher nicht mehr,
vielleicht morgen" Aufgebracht schaute mich Hüssein an, musste aber klein
beigeben. "Na habt ihr Ehestreit?" fragte Heiner, der uns beobachtet hatte.
"Nein, aber der Hüssi hat einen Schlüssel verloren und er glaubt, ich bin ein
Schlosser." Heiner und ich lachten, Hüssein blieb stumm.
Nun gut, es musste ja einmal sein. Ich erhob mich und winkte Hüssein,
mitzukommen. Ich ging vor das Lokal. "Also was bietest du mir?" "Was soll ich
dir bieten?" "Bist du so blöd, oder stellst du dich nur so, was kriege ich
dafür, dass ich vielleicht einen zweiten Schlüssel finde?" Hüssein, wusste
nicht, was er sagen sollte. "Na überlegst dir halt etwas, aber sag es mir
heute noch." ich ging wieder ins Jolly hinein. Eine Weile später folgte
Hüssein "Ich mache alles, was du willst." "Ich wusste doch, dass du eine brave
Hure bist. Geh aufs Klo, zieh dich ganz aus und warte. Dann sehen wir weiter."
Gehorsam schlich sich Hüssein aufs Klo. Nach ein zwei Minuten klopfte ich an
die WC-Tür. "Hüssi, bist du soweit?" Er öffnete die Tür einen Spalt breit. Ich
drängte in die enge WC-Kabine. Hüssein war nackt bis auf seine Socken und die
Schuhe. "Du bist ja gar nicht nackt, das ist aber gar nicht gut. Du hast noch
Socken und Schuhe an. Zieh sie aus." Hüssein wurde blass, tat aber, was ich
befohlen hatte. Bloßfüßig und nackt stand er nun im grindigen Klo mit dem von
Pisse nassen Boden.
"Dreh dich um, ich will deinen Arsch sehen. Stütze dich mit den Händen auf der
Klobrille ab und gib Deine Füße auseinander. .... Tiefer mit dem Kopf, als
würdest du in die Muschel kotzen. Noch tiefer!" Hüssein war jetzt mit dem
Gesicht in der WC-Muschel. Ich steckte ihm einen Finger in seinen Arsch und
betastete den Hoden mit dem glänzenden Vorhängeschloss.
"Das Schloss passt dir zwar schon gut, aber wenn du unbedingt willst, ändern
wir halt die Sache." Mit viel Geklimper nahm ich den Schlüssel für das
Vorhängeschloss aus meiner Tasche aber auch ein 1Kg-Gewicht, an das ich ein
Stück Stahlkette schweißen hatte lassen. "zieh deine Hoden mal ein bisschen
herunter, damit ich zum Schloss komme. Ich mach das Schloss jetzt auf."
Hüssein stützte sich mit einer Hand auf die Klobrille, mit der anderen griff
er nach seinem Hoden.
Ich öffnete das Schloss, schob schnell die Kette über den Bügel und schloss es
wieder. Ich nahm Hüsseins Hand, die seinen Hoden gehalten hatte, sagte "Halte
mal." und legte ihm das Gewicht in die Hand. Wieder tätschelte ich den weißen
hübschen Arsch Hüsseins "Jetzt bin ich wirklich gespannt, wie du dieses
Problem lösen wirst. Mit einem Lachen trat ich aus der WC-Kabine und überließ
Hüssein seinem Elend.
* * * |
Byzantium 4: Waiting To Be Gelded (Part 1) | TESTICLES, MINOR | A boy is chosen to be a page for the Emperor and waits to be gelded. | By the author of Cut Boy, SS Research Unit, Gelding The Boy-Herd and
the Byzantium Stories.
I was born into slavery, and I was owned by the emperor. At eight I
was selected to be schooled and for the next four years I spent part
of my day learning how to read and write. When I was twelve I was
taken with other boys of the same age into part of the Palace I had
never been in before. There we were carefully examined. We were lined
up in a passageway outside a room and each of us went in one at a
time. Inside there were three men including the Head of the Emperor's
Household, a eunuch. I had only ever seen him from a distance before.
One of the younger men told me to take off all my clothes. I felt
embarrassed because of the intense scrutiny of their gazes as they
watched me take off my shirt and undo and lower my trousers. The
young slave made me turn around slowly and walk across the room and
back again. Then I had to stand in front of one of the men while he
carefully studied my young muscles and listened to my heart.
I was then told to go and lay on a bench at the back of the room.
There were two poles with a curious attachment to them on either side
of the bench. When I was lying there on the bare wood, the young
slave lifted up each of my legs and put them up in the stirrup-like
arrangement. My legs and thighs were wide apart and I felt even more
embarrassment for it seemed that the eyes of everyone in the room
were focused between them, looking at my cock and balls. The man who
examined me came over with the Head Of The Emperor's Household. The
man put his hands between my legs and began to feel my balls. This
was the first time anyone's hands had touched them except my own. He
spent a long time there carefully feeling around. Then he touched my
prickle. At first he just examined it and pulled back my foreskin to
expose its head. But then he dipped his hand in some oil and slowly
began to massage me. In a moment I felt a warm rush to my groin and I
felt myself growing harder beneath his slippery grip. He continued
his slippery movements for some time. This was all done in perfect
silence. Then he stopped and stood back from me. The Head of the
Emperor's Household looked down at my hard cock and then, quickly, he
felt it's length with one hand while running his other hand
underneath to cup my balls. Then he nodded, as if to himself, before
stepping back. The man who examined me then picked up a small pole of
polished wood and smeared it with oil. He bent over my groin and put
the rounded end of the pole upon my asshole and began rubbing it
there and slowly pushing it in. I felt uncomfortable as he worked it
in and it hurt a little as he pushed and pulled it, getting further
into me with each stroke. However it wasn't long before I felt that
smooth pole deep inside of me and though I was biting my lip against
the strange feeling, part pleasure, part pain, the man putting it in
seemed pleased. He then pulled it out abruptly. I was told to get
dressed which I did quickly and then I was sent back to my duties.
Two days later, five of us were called out of our classes and told we
were to go into training to be pages for the Emperor. We moved to a
small building on the other side of the palace. While we were
standing in a small dormitory which was to be ours, we were told that
we would be further schooled. We would attend classes and learn how
to ride. We would also learn the structure and ways of the household
in order to fulfill our duties. Then we were told that when we were
old enough we would be gelded and then we would be assigned our
permanent duties. The word gelded meant nothing to any of us at that
moment, except as something that would be done to us at some later
time. However the word had a strange ring to it and in the way the
man said it, I experienced a quick stab of something like fear or
foreboding.
The overseer of the trainee pages was obviously used to this
incomprehension because then he explained to us carefully that when
we were around 15 we would have our balls removed to that we could
serve the Emperor. He said that some boys had both their prickles and
their balls taken off because they were to be assigned to the
Emperor's wife. However the Emperor's pages only had their balls cut
off.
The thought that I might lose my balls was a strange thought. I was
used to boyish accidents and knew that it hurt there if I fell onto a
bar or a fellow-slave was too violent in his wrestling. I was worried
about the pain and the thought that my balls would actually be cut
off made me squirm inside. I especially did not like the idea of them
being cut, of my skin being slit. I kept on thinking of a knife
cutting my balls from me, piercing my skin with my blood flowing
freely. The idea of a knife down there and that pain was frightening.
But still I had, at that age, no real knowledge of what I would be
losing.
We were given no time to think about it because then we were shown
the class rooms, where other, older boys were being taught. I
remember looking at them, especially the oldest boys who were around
15. I knew that each of them were going to be gelded, some sooner
rather than later. There was one older boy with black hair who was of
a husky build. There was another who was blonde and slimmer. I
thought about them and how soon they would be facing that knife that
I imagined. But there was only time for a glimpse of these boys as we
passed the classroom.
After we were shown all the facilities of the building, we were
dressed in the uniform of trainee pages. The cloth was better than
any of us had ever experienced before and we were all proud of
wearing this livery. But that night when I went to bed, I slipped my
hand down between my legs to feel those two balls that were destined
to be taken from me. One of the other boys must have been thinking
the same thing because there was a whispering voice in the darkness
asking if we thought it would hurt when we were gelded. We did not
have a chance to reply to the question because the guard, who was
always stationed at our open door, told us to quiet down.
It all seemed as if it was some strange dream the next day when we
began our training. We had lessons in the morning, the five of us
sitting at small desks. There were various teachers. Some taught us
figures. Others talk us about the empire. Some taught us history. In
the afternoon we did physical lessons. We learned to ride horses
which was where I learned that some horses were gelded as well. It
made me feel strange to think that they gelded boys as well as
horses. I used to look between the horses legs as I approached them
in their stables and see that little flap of remaining skin while
thinking about how some day I too would be like this. In addition to
riding we learned the skills of the stables and how to care for
horses. We learned the arts of hunting. We also learned physical
defense; how to use a bow and a sword should we ever be called upon
to protect the Emperor. At the end of each day we were exhausted.
Four times a year we were inspected by the same man who had initially
examined us. It can't have been long after I arrived that I began to
grow hair above my prickle. One day it seemed as if there was nothing
there and the next day it seemed there were black hairs streaking my
skin. When we bathed I noticed that others of the boys in my
dormitory were growing hairs. The first time I was inspected again
after our arrival, the man examined me just as closely as he had done
in the beginning. Except this time he made me sit on a wide arm-less
chair with a sloping back. He told me to stretch my legs apart and he
greased his palm again with oil. Slowly he massaged my cock until it
grew again. Somehow to me the feeling that his hand produced in me
was stronger than it ever had before and the slippery touch of his
expert hands felt good. Suddenly, to my surprise, I felt something
swell with in me and an overwhelming sensation flooded through me.
Simultaneously I felt something spurt out of my prickle and splash
hot on my stomach. It was a good feeling but it was accompanied by a
slight pain as if new things were happening within me. I thought I
had pissed myself and I was embarrassed but when I looked down there
were globs of thick white stuff on my stomach. The man looked happy
and he nodded to himself before rubbing his fingers in the stuff,
checking its consistency carefully. I could even smell it, an odd new
pungent smell. He wiped me down with a towel and told me to get
dressed.
Our daily lessons were sometimes hard. We did them in our own class
and did not mix with the other two classes of boys at all. We were
taught to obey commands immediately and beaten if we did not react
instantly. We were also taught that to serve the emperor in any role
was the greatest privilege of the Empire. We were taught about those
eunuchs who had risen to positions of great power. However all this
while the threat of our own gelding hung over us like a dark cloud.
Days would pass were I would not think about it then suddenly the
thought would come to my mind that, at some future time, someone
would cut off my balls. Sometimes I imagined my balls being grasped
by a hand and a knife just cutting them off. We had not been told
just how it was done and there was no-one were could ask who would
have told us.
One day, at the end of that first year, we went into the dining room
and the eldest five boys were no longer there. It did not need to be
said to us that they had been gelded that day. This made the whole
thing more concrete to me. I kept on imagining the husky dark-haired
slave, more grown up than the others, being gelded. For the first
time this thought made my prick stand up. Once we had been taken to
the baths when the eldest boys had still been bathing and I had seem
him naked. He had a good smooth body with hard muscles. There was a
dark patch of hair in his groin and he was well-hung. Thinking about
him standing there with his legs apart and a knife cutting his balls
from his body was a strangely exciting thought and at nights I would
think about this lots. I also began to think about women.
Even though we lived entirely separate from any woman, I had seen
them when I was younger. Indeed when I was small I had seen several
women servants naked at one time or another. I began to think about
what it would be like to put my cock between their legs and slip
myself into them. These thoughts were also exciting for me and I
found I often had dreams where I would be fucking some girl and I
would suddenly wake to find myself having shot semen all over my
stomach. Our beds were inspected every morning and if we were
discovered to have stained the sheets, we had to drop our pants, bend
over the end of the bed and get caned by the overseer. He would give
you three sharp cuts of a thin cane. Some mornings I can recall there
were at least two of us bent over our bed-ends awaiting the slashing
cane while the other boys watched. Sometimes it did not happen to me
for weeks and then suddenly it would happen a day or two in a row.
At the end of our second year our voices began to break. In the baths
when we were naked, each of us had a thickening area of hair in our
groins and sometimes when another boy bent over you could see that
there was even a streaking of hair between his buttocks. I had the
biggest cock of the five boys in my class, but there was not much
difference. We had all been chosen because of our good looks and our
attractive bodies. Our cocks were all uncircumcised and not one of us
had one that was much smaller than the others.
The physical examinations still came around every three months and
now I when I stripped, I would already have a hard cock because I
would know that I was going to be jerked off there, with my legs
spread on that sloping-backed chair. I could see the changes in my
body reflected in the examination. First there was a thickening of
the hair on my calves. There was the growth of my pubic hair. There
was the streaking of underarm hair. There was the appearance of a
small amount of hair around my asshole. And these events were all
discovered and examined by the fingers of the man who examined us and
the watchful eye of the overseer. Then I would be ordered to sit in
the chair with my legs wide and the man would oil up his hand and
massage me to the relief of my orgasm when I would shoot seed all
over my chest and my stomach.
As we moved through I third year, my thoughts began to focus on my
gelding. I knew I was not alone because there suddenly was a air of
joylessness about my class mates. I noticed in the baths that we
covertly examined each others bodies with our eyes and I knew my
classmates thoughts were just like my own, wondering how it would be
done and what each of us would experience. Now I can think only about
our ignorance of the consequences of it all. We knew nothing. We did
not know that the sperm that came from our cocks when we dreamed or
when the man massaged us when we were examined was due to our
possessing balls. We did not know that the heat and ardor of our
sexual desire also came from the same source.
The days stretched out achingly. Sometimes in the passageways of our
part of the palace I would find myself looking down their dim
distances, only too aware that the day was approaching when I would
be gelded. My cock was often hard now as we were taught our lessons.
I could feel it beneath my trousers, caught uncomfortably in the
folds or standing straight up against my stomach. I could also feel
my balls, or I seemed to, and awareness of those two round objects
that would be taken from me so soon, made me lose my concentration on
my lesson and earned me many cuts from my teacher's cane.
Somehow the number of my night emissions of seed increased and often
I waited each morning for the sheets to be inspected with
trepidation. As soon as the stain was discovered, I would be ordered
to bend naked over the bed-end and wait there until the inspection of
the beds was over. I would be there, bent over, with my legs parted
in the cold morning air, only too aware of by balls between my legs.
Often I would have to think about other things to prevent my cock
becoming hard. Then there would be the slash of the cane three times
upon my bare buttocks, the pain coming fiery in the chill morning,
followed by the sound of the cane on another boy and his faint gasps
and grunts.
We had no privacy and were so closely supervised it was impossible
for me to use my own hand to give me the release I required. Some
days I felt myself aching with that pent-up urge. I even found myself
longing for our next inspection where that man would oil his hand and
begin to massage my cock, taking it in his slippery grip and ease me
to that climax I so desired.
There were no mirrors in the quarters of the trainee pages. The only
times I ever saw myself was reflected in the waters of the baths when
we bathed. For some reason I remember a day when because of the time
and the light I saw myself clearly. My hair is black and it was cut
short. My face was pleasing even to my own eyes. My upper lip had
just begun to darken with a faint streaking of hair. Naked, I was
smooth and well-shaped. I was not as slim as some of my class-mates
and my muscles, from all the exercise and our training, were clearly
defined. Between my legs, reflected in the water, I could see a dark
patch of pubic hair and my cock and my balls. As I looked at myself,
I wondered how I would look without my balls, with only my cock,
hanging there.
Then one day we were summoned from our class and taken to be
inspected. As we waited in that dim passageway outside the room there
was an air of uneasy tension amongst us. It was different from any
other time. Would we just be taken from the room and cut or was this
just another inspection of our bodies? In spite of my fear, my cock
was stiff and hard with my awareness that soon I would be lying on
the slope-backed chair with my legs wide apart waiting for the
massaging of that hand which would bring me to release.
We went into that room, one at a time, and the rest of us waiting for
our turn. It seemed that time was stretching out as we stood there in
uncomfortable silence. I was the third one into the room where I was
asked to strip down us usual. Taking off my trousers, I was more
aware than ever of my stiff cock, but the man who examined us seemed
to pay it no particular attention. I was alert to every nuance of his
careful scrutiny of me; the way his fingers stroked the darkening
down on my upper lip, the way they teased the streaks of hair in my
armpit, they way they rubbed and squeezed my nipples, the way they
twined themselves in my glossy pubic hair, the way his palm cupped my
balls and felt each of them carefully, the way he held my cock and
turned its hardness, the way he pulled apart my buttocks and looked a
long time there.
Finally, he told me to sit on the chair and before the eyes of the
two other men, he moistened his hand with oil and slowly began to
massage me. Although I tried to prolong that climax as long as I
could, I came to my climax quickly, the bottled-up seed gushing out
and splashing my stomach and chest with thick white globs. As I
gasped in the wake of my orgasm, his fingers were already testing the
quality of my seed and he lifted them to his nose to sniff at it. I
waited then, my stomach an empty hollow for what I was sure would
come next.
However he merely told me to dress myself and return to my class. My
whole body felt relief but as I walked back to our classroom,
somewhere inside I began to grow tense again. While I may not have
been gelded, the event still waited for me in my near future.
[Continued in Part 2] |
Laras Hund. German Language. | TESTICLES | Lara und Bob waren schon ein paar Jahre Verheiratet. Die beiden hatten eine
klare Aufgabenteilung. Lara verdiente das Geld und Bob besorgte den Haushalt.
Lara bekam ein gutes Gehalt und die beiden bewohnten ein Penthaus. AuŖerdem
hatten sie auch noch ein Wochenendhaus in einer sehr teuren Lage. Ihr
Liebesleben hatte sich merklich abgekŁhlt. Bob war jetzt 30 Jahre alt und Lara
28. Sie hatte ein paar Lover. Er hatte es lšngst bemerkt, denn manchmal kam
sie spšt nach Hause. Dann wollte sie nichts essen sondern zog Bob sofort ins
Schlafzimmer. Bob wusste genau, als er jetzt seinen Schwanz in ihre feuchte
Grotte steckte, dass das Sperma eines anderen ihre Spalte schon gefŁllt hatte.
Er sagte aber nichts, sondern verrichtete sein Geschšft wortlos. Das passierte
etwa 1x pro Woche.
Eines Tages sagte sie ihm, sie wolle einen Hund. Er sagte nicht nein obwohl er
Angst vor Hunden hatte. Schon einen Tag spšter kam Lara abends mit einem Hund
nach Hause. Ein mittelgroŖer Hund. Schwarz. Mit kupierten Ohren und Rute. Ein
RŁde. ďDen hab ich aus dem Tierheim.Ē sagte Lara. ďIst er nicht ein bisschen
groŖ?Ē fragte Bob. Sie verneinte und fing an mit dem Hund zu spielen. Als Bob
ihn mal streicheln wollte, knurrte er und fletschte die Zšhne.
ďIhr werdet schon noch Freunde.Ē sagte Lara.
Als Lara an nšchsten Tag in der Firma war, Łbernahm der Hund die Wohnung. Er
besetzte die Couch und wenn Bob sich mal hinlegen wollte, wurde er angeknurrt.
Dieser Hund mochte Bob nicht, das war eindeutig. Sonst ging er aber mit Bob
Gassi und machte auch sein Geschšft. Lammfromm. Nur wenn Lara nach Hause kam
war Bob abgemeldet.
Die Tage vergingen. Dann kam Lara mal wieder von einem ihrer Lover nach Haus.
Der Hund begrŁŖte sie stŁrmisch und drŁckte merkwŁrdigerweise seine Nase immer
wieder zwischen ihre Beine. Lara schnappte wie immer ihren Bob und ab ging es
ins Schlafzimmer.
Bob lag auf dem RŁcken und Lara bearbeitete seinen Schwanz mit dem Mund.
Unbemerkt von den beiden, hatte der Hund die TŁr geŲffnet. Mit einem Satz war
er auf dem Bett. Er schnŁffelte an Laras Spalte und leckte sie dann heftig.
Lara erschrak kurz, drehte sich um und lšchelte. Dann plŲtzlich sprang der
Hund auf ihren RŁcken und fing an sie zu ficken. In einer ersten Reaktion
wollte Lara ihn abwehren aber dann verdrehte sie die Augen und genoss
anscheinend den Fick. Der Hund machte schnelle heftige StŲŖe. Als Bob
einschreiten wollte drŁckte Lara ihn wieder in die Kissen. Dann war auch schon
alles vorbei. Der Hund sprang ab und setzte sich neben das Bett. Aus Laras
Vagina lief ein dŁnner Strahl Hundesperma. Und auf ihrem RŁcken waren lange
rot Striemen von den Hundekrallen. Aber anscheinend war sie GlŁcklich. Bob kam
jedenfalls an dem Abend nicht mehr zum Schuss. Er war sehr aufgeregt und es
wurde eine heftige Diskussion gefŁhrt. Lara sagte schlieŖlich: ďBasta.Ē Damit
war die Diskussion beendet.
Bob wusste noch nicht, dass sich sein Leben von Grund auf šndern sollte.
Am nšchsten Tag kam Lara frŁh aus der Firma. Wieder zog sie Bob sofort ins
Schlafzimmer.
ďSchlieŖ ab, ich will was probieren.Ē sagte sie. Dann zog sie sich aus und
legte sich auf das Bett. Sie Ųffnete ihre Schenkel weit und sagte dann zu
Bob:Ē Und jetzt mach die TŁr auf. Bob Ųffnete die TŁr und der Hund sprang ins
Zimmer. Mit einem Satz war er auf dem Bett, und steckte seine Nase in Laras
Spalte. Sofort fing er an diese zu lecken. Lara stŲhnte. Ihr Atem wurde
schneller. Bob protestierte lautstark aber Lara sagte nur:Ē Halt die Klappe.Ē
Sie drehte sich um und kniete sich hin. Der Hund ritt sofort auf machte mit
seinem Pimmel ein paar StŲŖe in die Luft und drang dann in Laras Spalte ein.
Er machte heftige schnelle StŲŖe und Laras BrŁste wackelten wie verrŁckt. Sie
stieŖ Lustschreie aus und genoss es anscheinend wieder sehr. Nach kurzer Zeit
sprang der Hund wieder ab. Wieder floss ein dŁnner Strahl Hundesperma aus ihr
raus. Bob war Sprachlos. Er machte ihr heftige VorwŁrfe. Doch sie sagte nur:Ē
Wenn Du nicht so ein Versager wšrst, wšhr das auch nicht passiert.Ē
Lara sagte noch, das man was gegen die Striemen auf dem RŁcken unternehmen
mŁsse. Bob musste ihr dann den RŁcken einreiben. Der Hund knurrte ihn dabei
fŁrchterlich an.
Seit dem Tag hatte Bob keinen Sex mehr. Lara hatte auch ihre Liebhaber
abgeschafft. Der Hund trug nun kleine Hundeschuhe und Lara lieŖ sich jeden Tag
mehrmals bespringen. Er war eindeutig der Chef. Immer Ųfter kam es zum Streit
zwischen Lara und Bob. Eines Tages Eskalierte der Streit. ďDu benimmst Dich
wie eine HŁndin. Willst Du vielleicht Welpen von ihm?
Das wird wohl ein Problem. Ich stelle Dich jetzt vor die Wahl. Entweder der
Hund oder ich. Gib ihn weg oder lass ihn kastrieren. Sonst gehe ich.Ē schrie
Bob seine Frau an. Lara hatte ihn nur angesehen und kein Wort gesagt. Am
nšchsten Morgen lag ein Zettel auf dem Tisch. Darauf stand `Kastrationī. Bob
war beruhigt. Mittags rief Lara an und sagte ihm dass sie am Abend einen
Tierarzt mitbringen wŁrde.
Lara kam um 5 Uhr und brachte Frau Dr. Blum mit. Eine Frau mittleren Alters.
ďWir haben noch etwas zu besprechen.Ē sagte Lara und fŁhrte Frau Dr. ins
Arbeitszimmer. Der Hund mochte Frau Blum anscheinend denn er hatte sie freudig
begrŁŖt. Bob hŲrte nur ein paar Wortfetzen durch die geschlossene TŁr. Da war
von Verboten, Teuer und Gefšhrlich die Rede.
PlŲtzlich Ųffnete sich die TŁr und Lara huschte in die KŁche. Sie kam mit
einem Tablett mit 3 Glšsern zurŁck, drŁckte Bob eines in die Hand und sagte:Ē
Dauert noch einen Moment. Trink mal lieber einen Schluck.Ē Dann war sie wieder
verschwunden. Bob trank das Glas aus. Er beobachtete den Hund. Der lag auf der
Couch und leckte seinen Pimmel. ďJa leck Dich nur. Du Hšssliches Vieh. Gleich
werden Dir die KlŲten abgeschnitten. Hš, Hš. Dann wollen wir mal sehen ob Du
noch Lust hast meine Frau zu bespringen.Ē sagte Bob gehšssig zu dem Hund.
Der sah ihn gelangweilt an und gšhnte dann. nach einer Weile wurden Bobs Arme
schwer. Nach und nach verlor er die Kontrolle Łber seinen KŲrper. Die TŁr zum
Arbeitszimmer Ųffnete sich und Bob hŲrte Lara sagen:Ē Ist es schon soweit?Ē
Dr. Blum kniff Bob in den Arm. ďKeine Reaktion mehr. Wir kŲnnen anfangen. Wo
soll er hin. Ins Schlafzimmer?Ē
Nein, nein. Bringen wir ihn in die KŁche. Ich will keine Schweinerei im Bett.
Bob bekam alles mit, konnte aber nicht Reden oder sich bewegen. Die beiden
Frauen legten Bob auf den KŁchentisch. Lara zog ihm die Hosen aus. ďWird es
lange dauern, Frau Dr.?Ē fragte Lara.
ďSack rasieren, Hoden ab und zunšhen. Das geht Ruckzuck.Ē war die Antwort. Der
Hund saŖ vor dem Tisch und beobachtete das Geschehen. Frau Dr. fing nun an
Bobs Sack zu rasieren. Dann schnitt sie ihn mit einem Skalpell auf. Bob spŁrte
nichts. Schnell hatte sie Bobs Hoden abgetrennt und war schon am vernšhen.
Lara nahm einen der Hoden und gab ihn dem Hund. Gierig schlang der den Hoden
herunter. Auch Bobs 2. Hoden verschwand im Maul des Hundes.
Mit den Worten:Ē In 12 Tagen kŲnnen Sie ihm die Fšden ziehen.Ē verabschiedete
sich die ńrztin.
Lara kam lšchelnd in die KŁche zurŁck.Ē So mein lieber Mann. Jetzt ist ja wohl
klar wer in diesem Haus der RŁde ist. Ab Heute schlšfst Du im Gšstezimmer.Ē
Der Hund bezog nun das Ehebett. Nachts hŲrte Bob die Lustschreie seiner Frau.
Nach ein paar Nšchten holte Lara Bob ins Schlafzimmer. Er musste sich
ausziehen. Dann nahm Lara dem Hund das Halsband ab und legte es um Bobs Hals.
AnschlieŖend wurde Bob am Bettpfosten festgemacht. Er musste zusehen wie der
Hund es mit Lara trieb. Nachdem der Hund abgesprungen war, sprang er vom Bett
und schnŁffelte zwischen Bobs Beinen. Er leckte den leeren Sack und sprang
dann zur 2 Runde wieder auf das Bett.
Seit der Kastration hatte der Hund Bob nicht mehr angeknurrt. Er roch dass Bob
kein Konkurrent mehr war.
Lara fŁhrte noch etwas Neues ein. Damit der Hund sich tagsŁber nicht
langweilen sollte, musste sich Bob hinknien. Dann sollte der Hund aufreiten.
Der roch erstmal den leeren Hodensack und leckte dann Bobs Pimmel. Erst als er
sicher war, das sich da nichts mehr rŁhrte sprang er das erste Mal auf.
Schnell und heftig rammelte er Bob und SchoŖ ihm eine Ladung Sperma in den
Darm. Von nun an hatte der Hund 2 HŁndinnen. Er brauchte Bob nur von hinten
anspringen. Dann zog der sich die Hose runter und kniete sich nieder. Sonst
biss der Hund zu. Der Hund vergaŖ nie die Kontrolle von Bobs Geschlechtsteilen
bevor er aufsprang.
Wenn aber Lara nach Hause kam, war Bob abgemeldet.
* * * |
|
Angry wives club - Kim's choice | TESTICLES | When Kim is arrested for having under age sex, his wife agrees to a solution that will ensure it never happens again. | ` Angry wives club - Kim's choice `
The high-level windows, in the private office adjoining the courtroom, were
tapestries of a sombre grey sky. The central heating was excessive, making the
room stuffy rather than comfortably warm. Kim shifted in his chair, glanced
across at his wife and hesitantly opened his mouth, "look…" he started.
"Shut up!" She hissed back, her teeth flashing feral white, before her mouth
returned to its usual thin red gash. She agitatedly clicked the end of her
Parker ball-point pen with her thumb, the point flicking out and back in like
a tiny tongue. The noise was driving Kim mad, but he dared not speak again.
Instead, he stared down at his hands.
The late February morning had not gone well. Fortunately it was a closed
hearing with the press absent and the public gallery an empty silent witness,
but Kim had still felt the humiliation of being in the dock. The judge was a
shrewish woman, thin with pinched lips and a concrete frown that made dark
buttons of her eyes. He knew she'd have little or no sympathy with his
offence. In fact, the whole damn place was predominantly women, which added no
end to his mounting anxiety. The charges had barely been read when suddenly
the prosecuting counsel approached the judge and spoke in a low voice.
Although he had been unable to hear her, Kim became uneasy. The judge looked
his way, wilting him with a stony gaze. Finally, she banged her gavel and
called for a recess. He groaned inwardly and was ushered into a side room
smelling of furniture polish, where his wife was waiting.
Within minutes a woman wearing the robes of a barrister, but without the
formal wig that accompanies the traditional court attire of a defending
attorney, joined them. She took up position at the head of the table opposite.
She removed her wire rimmed spectacles, blinked once or twice to clear her
vision and said slowly, "it does look as though the case will go to full
trial".
"Oh God." Kim's wife choked, and stared upwards, stemming tears.
"If there is anything… anything I could do…" Kim sputtered.
"You've bloody well done enough!" His wife spat back.
"Sara…" Kim began, almost as a whimper.
But his wife continued as though he hadn't spoken. "It'll be in the papers.
We'll be ruined, economically and bloody socially. You stupid, stupid fool."
She took a deep breath, opened her mouth for the next broadside, when the
barrister quietly intervened."Mrs Millener, remonstration won't help." She
said.
"For Christ's sake we offered her money." Sara Millener continued bitterly.
"It wasn't as though she was faultless, dressed up to the nines, make-up
plastered on like cheese on toast, and she's hardly a vestal virgin is she!"
"I'm afraid that's not the point." The lawyer replied. "Your husband admits to
having sex with her and she is under age. It is a serious offence."
Kim burst out. "But I didn't realise she was under age. And I'd had a lot to
drink. I hardly knew what I was doing, it all happened so quickly." A thin
sheen of perspiration layered his forehead.
"Kim, zip it." His wife snapped irritably.
"I grant you, she's a little madam." The lawyer admitted. "But the law is on
her side."
"But what the hell does she want?" Sara demanded. "I mean, sending Kim to
prison isn't going to get her anywhere? After all, he's hardly a serial rapist
is he. I'm just surprised he could damn well get it up. Quite an achievement
for him." She finished spitefully.
The lawyer hesitated then said, "she has asked to speak with you both. With
her mother and her counsel in attendance of course." Sara made to object but
the lawyer raised her finger to silence her. "Admittedly, it's not usual at
this late stage but if you were in agreement it might not do any harm to see
what she has to say?"
"Oh, what the hell…" Sara shrugged indifferently.
The lawyer looked over at Kim who just nodded.
Vanessa Burnly was undoubtedly attractive in a glossy superficial sort of way,
and certainly looked older than her fifteen years. She smirked at Kim when she
walked in and, even now, her whole appearance parodied her age. She wore a
white Angora sweater which would have guaranteed modesty on most teenagers,
yet only emphasised her matured breasts. She had on a short black skirt with
dark hose, and her legs could have prided a model. Her mother was an indignant
older clone with the same flashing dark eyes and upturned nose, though dressed
more formally in a tan trouser suit, and nectarine silk scarf.
Kim guessed their lawyer was in her mid forties. Her fair short cropped hair
and fine Dresden bone features made her look almost fragile. Except that her
eyes were cobalt blue and pierced to the soul.
Kim's lawyer opened the dialogue. "Well then Vanessa, what have you to say?"
"He raped me." She accused defiantly.
"That's a bloody lie…" Kim almost rose out of his chair but his lawyer put a
restraining hand on his arm. "You came on to me. You know that." He ended
lamely.
"It's of no consequence." Vanessa's lawyer dismissed Kim's words with a sigh.
"It's still sex with an under age person and therefore illegal."
That took the steam from Kim's anger and he slumped back in his chair. "What
do you want?" He muttered.
Vanessa sniffed and looked around the room. "I want to see that he doesn't
rape anyone else…" Kim grimaced, and made a minute shake of his head.
"What exactly do you mean?" Sara asked suspiciously.
Vanessa's lawyer narrowed her eyes and said, "We've a proposition."
Kim frowned. "What sort of proposition?"
"Therapy." Vanessa spoke up.
"What do you mean…. therapy?" Sara said contemptuously. "You mean counselling
and that sort of rubbish?"
"Nah, not that crap. I mean proper like."
"Get to the point." Sara was beginning to lose patience.
"I want him doctored." Vanessa snapped defiantly.
"Vanessa!" Her mother exclaimed.
"What?" Sara looked open mouthed. Elsewhere in the room there was an intake of
breath. Kim's heart thudded.
"I want his balls cut off. I want him castrated. Do I have to paint you a
picture?"
"Good Lord. I'm afraid that's out of the question." Kim's lawyer blinked
through her glasses and started to gather up her paperwork as though the
meeting was over.
"Wait a minute." Sara said.
"Sara…?" Kim looked at her.
His wife swung around to him angrily. "Listen, you pervert. It was you who
screwed a fifteen year old. What do you think I feel about you fucking another
woman, let alone a fifteen year old. Give me a knife and I'd probably do it
myself!" She lowered her voice. "Do you know what a trial would do to us as a
family? Do you think I want my friends to look at us and know where you've
been dipping your fucking dick? What does it make me look like?"
Kim flinched at the vicious tirade. His wife never used bad language - ever.
Well extremely rarely anyway, and certainly not repetitively. It sounded
worse, more emphatic when delivered with her Bloomsbury accent. He'd never
seen her so angry.
"The law does not allow men to be castrated as a punishment." Kim's lawyer
said, a trifle sanctimoniously.
"Bollocks to the law!" Vanessa smirked. "It's therapy. And I know where we
could get him done."
"And?" Sara said, her eyes narrowing.
"And I'd drop all charges." Vanessa replied.
"All charges?" Sara pressed.
"This is ridiculous!" Kim's lawyer snapped, but her voice lacked conviction
and she slowly returned her papers to the table.
"Yeah, all charges. Lop his balls and you'll never hear from me again."
"Vanessa, don't be so crude." Her mother admonished, her voice dripping with
self-righteous insincerity.
There was an expectant hush around the room. Kim stared at each of the women
in turn in open astonishment. This had to be some sort of joke. A wind up.
They were teasing him, mentally punishing him in some perverse way.
"Alright." Sara decided. "It's a deal."
"For Christ's sake…" Kim started.
"Shut up!" Sara snapped contemptuously. "Do you think I ever want to have sex
with you again?"
Vanessa's lawyer raised an eyebrow. "Well, it would resolve things without a
lot of grubby washing going onto the line."
"Ok, how would we go about it?" Sara asked.
Vanessa replied quickly. "I know this woman, her name's Winterson, Daphne
Winterson, or something like that. She runs a clinic that specialises in this
sort of thing."
"No." Kim insisted, his stomach tightening.
"So, you'd prefer jail would you?" His wife said sarcastically. "Come on Kim,
it's your choice?" She persisted.
The whole room waited, frozen. The women gave him a collective feline stare.
He swallowed and said nothing. Sara eventually spoke, "I'll take that as
consent". She said evenly.
He looked away.
"I know about Winterson." Vanessa's mother said. "She's very discreet, and
anyway it's virtually a minor operation."
"Yeah, he'd be in and out in a weekend." Vanessa added enthusiastically. "Then
no more of the dirty old man for him. No more little girls."
"Is it expensive?" Sara asked, not that it was a consideration.
"Nah, hardly more than a vasectomy." Vanessa said.
There was a lengthening silence and Kim could see that all the women in the
room were in favour. Even his own lawyer was nodding slowly. Vanessa sat
opposite him and he had a tantalising peek of white upper thigh above her
stocking top. Even now she mocked him.
"Alright, I'll book him in" Sara agreed, not looking at Kim. "Have you the
address?"
"I can give it to you." Vanessa's mother said.
"I want to see that he's been done." Vanessa snapped. "Proof like."
"I don't think that would be a problem, would it?" Vanessa's lawyer asked
Sara.
"Not at all. She can visit after the op and inspect him." Sara stood up to
leave, indicating her head to Kim to follow. After he was neutered he'd be
used to obeying her instructions.
At the clinic Kim lay on crisp white sheets in a private room. The nurse had
just finished shaving his pubic area and he rather liked the cool air about
his genitals. To his horror the door suddenly opened and a doctor entered with
a group of student trainee nurses trailing. They looked to him like a gaggle
of schoolgirls. He moved to pull the sheet over him when she raised her hand
to halt him. "It's all right Kim, we won't be a moment, just a training
session." He swallowed and lay still.
"Kim is here for an bi-lateral orchiectomy." The doctor said, explaining as
one student nurse raised her eyebrows. "That is, castration." He saw their
interest quicken, and they stared at him in fascination.
Fantasies of nubile nurses in black stockings and suspender belts that had
tormented Kim's teen years returned and, to his horror, he felt his penis
start to harden. It was hardly something you could fail to notice and several
of the nurses made a poor show of smothering their amusement.
"Both testicles?" A tall redhead asked. "Isn't that unusual?"
"Yes it is." The doctor replied. "It's a health issue."
'That's right', Kim thought miserably, 'if I don't my wife will kill me!'
"I think it's time to leave." The doctor said nodding towards the door, as his
erection reached its pinnacle.
"I, I'm sorry…" He mumbled.
The nurses filed out and, as the doctor left, she turned and said quietly with
an impish grin, "that's all right Kim, you'll shortly not have to worry about
such embarrassments."
With their departure he quickly seized his organ and began to gently stroke
himself. He closed his eyes.
"What have we here?"
His eyes blinked open and he reddened.
The nurse coming into the room had a rather severe face with chiselled
features and her bearing seemed to indicate that nursing was not her natural
profession.
"I…. I couldn't help it…" Kim stuttered, releasing himself.
She sat on the edge of his bed and he heard her nylons rustle as she crossed
her shapely legs. He imagined his hand sliding up the side of her thigh and
with that thought, any hope of deflating his erection was lost.
"Now, what can we do about this?" She pouted to his erection.
Kim shook his head. "It'll go down in a minute." He prophesised lamely.
"When my boyfriend has this problem I can do one of two things." She said and
took his testicles in her hand. "I can give these a little squeeze." And to
emphasise her point she fractionally tightened her grip and Kim winced. "Or I
can do this." Her cool fingers circled his shaft and Kim's heart thudded. "It
depends on how good he's been to me." She slowly started to massage his organ,
adding pressure with each upstroke taking it off on the down. Kim groaned in
ecstasy.
"You'd be absolutely amazed at what he promises me when I do this." She
continued. "Putty in my hand so to speak."
Time ceased to have meaning. He closed his eyes and detected the faint aroma
of mimosa and Camay soap. "Open your legs." She ordered softly and Kim
complied. His total surrender seemed to satisfy her. He began to breathe
heavily as the accelerating pace of her hand orchestrated his rising climax.
His breath became fast urgent gasps. "Oh God." He wailed and simultaneously
ejaculated, sucking in air like a drowning sailor. Smiling she released him
and stood up. "I think you can clean yourself up don't you?" She grinned down
at him.
"Oh God, that was wonderful… Thank you." Kim murmured, again and again.
"My good turn for the day." She said, moving towards the door, then turning
back and reminding him mischievously. "Let's say it was the condemned man's
last meal…"
The room fell into silence as she left.
The operation was carried out as a matter of routine. He lay with his feet in
stirrups, his legs open. He'd been given a local anaesthetic and he wasn't
surprised when the surgeon turned out to be female as well. Somehow he'd
guessed that would be the case. Her green eyes were warm, almost laughing, as
she stared down at him over her white surgical mask. The medical team
discussed their plans for the weekend, shopping, TV programmes and largely
ignored him as though it was merely a tooth filling at the dentist. Finally,
he heard the click as the surgeon replaced the scalpel on the instrument tray.
"There, that wasn't so bad was it? Just a couple of stitches now." She stepped
back to let the nurse take over. "You may experience a little discomfort for a
few days Kim, but that's normal and will soon wear off." She began to peel off
her surgical gloves and he lost sight of her as the nurse started to insert
the sutures. He felt slightly faint at the thought that he was now a eunuch, a
mere gelding.
For the first few days Sara was almost sympathetic. She fussed over him for a
while, emitting some curiosity as to whether his sex drive had diminished. It
had. She seemed more assertive, and he found himself more becoming compliant.
Kim's world had subtly changed, forever.
"Of course, " She started one morning over breakfast. "Just because you're a
neuter now doesn't mean that I'm going to give up sex." She blew on her
freshly painted aquamarine nails as Kim looked up at her, startled.
"Oh don't worry, I'll be discrete." She gave him a smile that she thought was
reassuring, but he thought patronising. "If I do need to come back here then
I'll tell you and you can go out, to the pictures or the pub. Ah, sorry, I
forgot you don't drink so much now do you." She sniffed, rising. "Well, have a
tonic water or something."
About six weeks after the operation he heard the doorbell chime Sara shot him
a knowing look and directed him into the bedroom. 'Oh God', he thought, 'not
one of her men friends?' But the sound of female voices told him that wasn't
the case.
She came into the bedroom, told him to undress and to put on his bathrobe. Kim
did so without question.
A few minutes later she reappeared and gestured with her head for him to
follow her. He did so, wrapping his maroon towel robe around him. He stopped
abruptly as he entered the lounge. Vanessa, her mother and their lawyer were
waiting for him. Vanessa had a sly smile, the tip of her pink tongue flicked
across her maroon lips and he was reminded of the pen in the court side-room.
She again wore her short dark skirt, and fine denier stockings as usual made
the most of her shapely legs. Her arms were folded across her chest and her
head was tilted expectantly to one side.
"Open the robe Kim". His wife instructed sharply.
He swallowed, dropped his head, and flicked the robe from his shoulders,
allowing it to fall to the ground and leave him standing naked in front of the
fascinated trio. Nerves had contributed to an insignificant penis, which had
retreated to the size of a small acorn. It stuck out ignominiously from his
cleanly shaven crotch. His scrotum had noticeably shrunk.
The whole group stared at him.
"Not so cocky now are ya!" Vanessa sneered, her face a picture of delight. Kim
burned red as she reached down and flicked the end of his wizened member with
her finger.
Sara said, almost matter of fact. "As you can see, my husband has been well
and truly castrated."
The lawyer leaned forward slightly to get a better view. "I think we're quite
satisfied with that." She said. "Vanessa?"
"Yeah, great."
"You can return to the bedroom now Kim dear." Sara said dismissing him with a
wave of her hand. He obediently picked up his robe and departed without a
word.
"He's very well behaved." Venessa's mother observed with a wry smile.
"Oh yes," said Sara nodding. "He's quite obedient. You know, I think he rather
likes it. Does anything a woman asks now. Sometimes when I have a dinner party
with the girls, he serves the table and I let it drop that he's been neutered.
Like my pet Tom cat. You'd be surprised how well it goes down."
There was a murmur of amusement.
Now young lady, are you content now?" Sara asked Vanessa.
"Yeah. Well we didn't force him did we." She shrugged, turning to leave.
"Oh no." Sara agreed, "it was Kim's choice. His choice from the start."
Kim could hear the titters of laughter from his bedroom as the visitors said
their goodbyes. He sighed - it was time to prepare the evening meal for Sara.
Then he'd vacuum the lounge.
End.
* * * |
Thecia’s short Interrogation | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, Thecia’s short Interrogation | A quick little story about Thecia's latest adventure. Not for minors and it's fiction gold miners can read it though. | **
Thecia’s short Interrogation
My name is Thecia, I’m a 31-year-old female "cutter."
Last Friday I received a missive from my friend Dr. Pann. Dr. Pann runs a
clandestine women’s support group.
She reported to me that a female police officer told her about a pedophile
that was just freed by the Lexington KY Police department. They had evidence
of him abducting a young girl but they could not prove anything and were
forced to free him.
Dr. Pann, with the help of three very big Russian hired muscle types, had
secured the man in a barn eight miles from Lexington, just off of Bardstown
Road. The Russians had beaten the man for hours, but he still would not tell
the location of the 14-year-old kidnap victim.
I took the first available plane from Dallas and got to KY at noon. Dr. Pann
had a car waiting for me and I was at the barn in less than 25 minutes.
The man was a bloody pulp from the beatings. I told the Russians to clean him
up and treat him with respect. They left at Dr. Pann’s order and we were alone
with the trussed up man.
I used a box cutter to remove his clothes, being careful not to cut his skin.
I assessed his "equipment" and found his balls to be pretty standard and his
cock a little above average in size. No big deal. Without a word to the man, I
donned my velvet glove and began to stroke his soft cock. I told him to think
about that nice 14-year-old pussy that he was going to get. He quickly rose to
the occasion. I think that Dr. Pann was a little annoyed at my apparent
kindness to the man. He tensed and I knew he was near, but still he took me by
surprise. He shot his load with surprising force. His stream caught the hair
on the side of my head. Just what I need, rapist cum in my hair. As his cock
softened, he smiled and mouthed the words, "thank you."
I quietly asked him, "where is Jenny." His response was, "I can’t tell you."
I gently lifted his left ball and stuck the tip of my box cutter right into
it. He screamed and I asked him if he could tell me yet. He shook his head in
a no movement. With that I sliced the whole length of the left side of his
sack and extracted his left ball. With the box cutter I nicked a little tiny
piece off of his ball. He again screamed, but still shook his head. I cut
piece after piece until half of his testicle was gone. Still he refused to
talk. I slit the other side of his sack and took the first tiny piece from his
right ball. As I did this, I reminded him that this was the last one. If I did
this he would never have sex again. I told him that if he told us where the
girl was I would let him go with his right ball in one piece.
He finally relented and said that she was only three miles down the road in an
abandoned gas station. I stayed with him as Dr. Pann went to investigate. Ten
minutes later my cell phone rang and Dr. Pann told me that the girl was ok,
dehydrated, but OK.
I looked down on this pathetic molester and said "thank you." I carefully tied
off his ruined left ball and sliced it off. I dropped it into my peanut butter
jar along with its pieces. I then hefted his right ball and said to him, "I
won’t cut this one up, as I promised." He smiled in relief. I held the ball in
my right hand and wrapped the cords around my finger. (If you don't rap the
cord around your finger, the cords rip from the ball not the body.) Without
warning I pulled with all of my strength. The cords, nerves and blood vessels
ripped from his body, leaving a horrible wound. He screamed louder than I had
ever heard anyone scream. I said, "I said I would not cut it up, I never said
that I wouldn’t rip it from your body." I said it on deaf ears, he had passed
out.
I revived him and cut the binding on his left hand. He was in no condition to
do harm to anyone. I had him put his hand on the towel over his wound to stem
the flow of blood and promised to send help.
Dr. Pann picked me up and we drove off. We left the girl at a firehouse and
told her to go in after we were out of sight. I called 911 on my untraceable
cell phone and told of a farm accident off of Bardstown Road.
The local newspaper only noted an accident and no word of my "job" ever leaked
out. The female police officer later told Dr. Pann that no cop wanted to
investigate.
I sent the severed and cut balls to myself via UPS. The security people at the
airport wouldn't like balls in my carry on bag.
We had a late lunch as we waited for my plane. Dr. Pann had a tuna salad plate
and I had a Monte Christo sandwich and a tall glass of iced tea.
I was home in my own bed by that night.
Respectfully submitted,
Thecia
**
* * * |
Porn Actress Gets Clipped [F] | NULLIFICATION | A porn actress method-acts her transformation into a soft Asian fucktoy. | I thought I had seen everything in the world of sex, but let me say, one thing
life has taught me is that you can always be surprised. Being an adult
entertainment star was a natural choice for me. I always have, and always will
enjoy sex, in fact, I see it as a competitive sport. I've done some pretty
outrageous things and despite being somewhat known and mainstream, I've gotten
deeper into some more extreme depths, out of a desire to explore my dark side.
It started with a film where the plot line went somewhat like this... girl has
money trouble, rich man offers to help her.. if he can tattoo her and use her
for sex.
The twist is I actually got the tattoo. You may have even seen the photos or
the film. The truth is I had always wanted a back piece and this was the
perfect excuse. Call it method acting if you will, for me it was fun, and it
introduced me to the pleasure one can find in pain. Several BDSM related films
followed after that and then I was looking for a challenge.
What is extreme anyway, that is the real question? Where would you draw the
line? That is the question I kept asking myself. So many things are temporary.
Being in a hogtie for a few hours is nothing. Shaving your head, well that
will grow back. In a sense, tattoo openend my eyes to the world of permanence.
That is not going away, not anytime soon.
So if something was permanent, where would I draw the line? Obviously, at life
or limb. I'm not going to let someone kill me or take an arm or leg. That's
just stupid.
But what about a clit? Now that is kind of sexy. Consider the challenge of
trying to get off without it. I mean, I've done it before, many times, many
ways, of course, it's always so much more difficult. But since I'm up for
sport, I figured I was game for it. A director I know was more than happy to
oblige. A couple calls, and a Japanese client was found to fund everything.
And so the plot of the film, a challenge. A rich and twisted master, a
beautiful asian slave who can't stop misbehaving. She is easily aroused, a
sexual athlete, always eager, and always climaxing. He is jealous of her
ability, how she so pleasantly disobeys him, and so he hires a team of doctors
to make her inorgasmic. They cut off the visible part of her clit, but it is
not enough. She is actually turned on by this, and so the battle must
continue. They remove all the internal vestiges of it, and fry her g-spot with
electricity. She's coming the whole time, and this is the climax of the movie.
Well, method acting indeed. We couldn't shoot this here or on the mainland, so
it was done overseas. It's actually going to be released as a film this year,
and I'm quite happy with the work. It was my favorite film to make yet.
Of course, you may be wondering about one thing. Yes, I did have my clitoris
and everything removed, we got the whole nerve bundle and all the underlying
branches. That is pretty much the g-spot itself, right there. I undertook this
as part of a challenge for myself. I mean, sure, there was a very real chance
it would make me inorgasmic, but what would that mean for me? Most of my
orgasms are faked for the camera anyway, and I've certainly had plenty of
satisfaction to last a lifetime, so if it were gone for good, I would be okay
with that.
That's not exactly how it turned out. Like I said, life is full of surprises.
The orgasms I had on film for the g-spot frying, those were fake. And the
surgery, that was real. So was the orgasm I've had since. I don't know what it
was, I was trying to get off, which I wasn't able to do after even the first
operation, and I got so tired I fell asleep with my vibrator still on. I had
an amazing dream that night, I kept thinking about how hot it was to be the
girl in that film, to be turned on by the possibility of not being able to get
off.
When I woke up, I had an amazing orgasm, something I have certainly had
before, this was up there with one of the best. However, almost certainly not
something I'll ever be able to produce again. In the three months since, I
have not had one orgasm, despite having plenty of sex. The weird thing, I can
still 'squirt', I'm a female ejaculator, it's a talent every woman can learn.
It can happen with or without orgasm. Looks like mine will be without orgasm
from now on, as will sex, even masturbation, although that has tapered off a
bit. Knowing you can't get off does make it fun, in a kinky sort of way, but
not something I want to do every night, at least not anymore. For those people
who have asked, yes, it does make you more horny to not be able to get off, if
you like that sort of thing. It's an itch you can never scratch, but for some
of us, that itself is what makes it enjoyable.
My master and I decided last week that we would give up on trying to make me
orgasm, that even if it is possible, I should never orgasm again.
Perhaps that will be the case.
But I can always hope. You never know when life will surprise you. I ended up
becoming more than friends with the wealthy Japanese man, and so I don't need
to actually work now, but I still may do a couple more movies.
Still, nothing will ever top my cum-shot.
Slave J (now the property of Mr. N).
* * * |
New Life part 1 | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY | How little things can change the relationship. *** I\'ll welcome any feedback. Please post in the Story feedback forum or write to [email protected]. Thanks! | Me and Kristen haven't known each other for long before we ended up in a
relationship. I've worked as a programmer, while Kristen worked for a parcel
delivery company and she sometimes dropped packages and chat at our company's
office. I've asked her out for coffee one evening, when I was just leaving and
we were the last client for her to deliver parcels.
It went very fast from there. Not often one has the luck to meet a pretty
geeky girl, but she was one. We had very much in common, just enough to always
have fun together, while our small differences would work as spice. We could
be doing just about anything together, and still learn new things about and
from each other.
People say that such 'perfect' relationships usually end up badly, once the
couple hops into bed. Fortunately, our 'bedtime stories' were very good. But
true enough, it wasn't completely up to par and I guess we could both say our
sexual life used to be the weakest link. Fortunately, soon enough we both
figured out we could spice everything up with the right amount of kinkiness.
Just four months after we've seen each other for the first time, we've been
experimenting with all kinds of stuff. But for the most part, we were both
deep in the bondage and light SM business. We always changed roles, so one
night it was her being tied up in chains and 'suffering' the plays, the other
night it was me.
This really was like a drug for us. You can completely forget about all the
problems of the world in a SM session, especially when you're sharing it with
someone so close and even more when you can swap positions, like us. No wonder
that after just a few months, our games often became something more than just
'kinky' and were quite serious business. In one session when I was tied up,
she expressed the will to play dangerous games with my penis. My penis had
always been a subject of fascination for her, it was obvious she has a fetish
beyond what's common. I'd had a nice piece, not too big – just below 6 inches,
but attractive and uncut, and that's what mattered to Kristen too. She indeed
had a nice toy there.
The day when she dropped this ball, she just slapped my dick around with a
ruler, but these sessions became more edgy soon enough. I've often found my
penis banded for hours, later even for a whole night (Kristen joked she'd like
me to go to work like that too). She often played around my dick with scissors
or other cutting tools, thinking loudly what would she do with it if she
sneezes and accidentally cuts it off. One night she shaved me completely with
an old-fashion razor. I actually ended up with some cuts at the base of my
penis. There was a dark side in her. When she was playing around with it, it
seemed like she considers it almost her property.
I've been returning the favor. I have a fetish too – for female feet and toes.
And Kristen has the most beautiful feet I've ever seen, so I could play with
them for ages. But soon enough, tickling became old news for out sessions too.
I turned to my dark side as well and started to band and her toes. I
alternated between the toes so each one completely healed before it was its
turn again. Still, even though I love pretty feet, I've always had this
fantasy – to have a toeless girlfriend, having her pretty toes kept forever in
a jar. Once I went a bit too far and Kristen's little toe became too dark and
we even considered seeing a doctor. It went back to life eventually, but she
couldn't feel it for a few months. It was quite a turn-on for both of us
actually. I could bite that little toe as much as i wanted, while she could
guess whether it is still attached. She warned me, tongue-in-cheek, to be
careful – because when she loses a toe, she'll retaliate. And while she's got
10 toes, I only have one dick. That didn't slow me down very much.
Once we engaged a serious conversation, whether I'd prefer to have her
toeless. I replied I wouldn't want to hurt her, but admitted that I kinda like
the idea. She said she liked the non-feeling in her little toe and might
actually consider some body modification in that area. While at it, I also
asked her, whether she'd prefer me dickless. Kristen wasn't sure how to
respond. I guess she didn't really want to admit it, not even to herself. She
fought the idea, but it seemed to overpower her at times. When she's been
under the influence of this, I've realized it was me who is really turned on.
Yeah, we are a weird couple.
As if to make it easier for her deep fantasy to fully emerge, we've bought a
large paper cutter and integrated it into our games. We've established a
pattern, where before each 'traditional' sex session, my penis would be banded
and placed under the cutter, with the blade targeting the short space between
the two rubber bands at the base of my dick. I've responded by buying some toy
guillotines for her toes, but it was no match. My dick was under a real,
strong blade of the paper cutter; her toes were not. While Kristen liked her
part of the play, her toes weren't in real danger. My penis was. We could no
longer go back to 'normal' sex. Kristen was obviously disappointed if my dick
wasn't under the blade just a minute before entering her pussy. I, on the
other hand, became so much used to the banding and thrill, I couldn't perform
so well without this foreplay and became disappointed too. Where will this
lead us?
* * * |
Dollies | WARNING, MINOR, clitoridectomy | To fit into their too revealing tricots Cassie’s friends reform themselves as the Dollies, the first sexless cheerleading squad. | ‘No way, Cassie. One can see everything. These suits are like second skin. One
can count the hairs on your pussy.’
‘I don’t have any.’
‘Well, figuratively speaking. And with you, you could even wear it, because
you look smooth, but think of Susie and her long lips.’
Alex still couldn’t say it. ‘Cut’ was the word, not ‘smooth’. A jump had
opened Cassie’s normally closed lips sufficiently to reveal the secret of her
emptiness, when recently playing pink bottoms in the locker room after
practice. Alex wasn’t sure, how to react, being fascinated and repelled at the
same time.
Cassie had fought hard to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. It was
the final triumph over her former nerdiness. As the boys had one vote it had
meant to fuck the whole football team – twice. That wasn’t a problem because,
although since her cutting she couldn’t have orgasms any more, she was
constantly wet and randy. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, so she
tried scratching it and if it meant, fucking a whole football team for hours.
Professor Nhi, the teacher in charge of cheerleading, wasn’t a problem either.
As a closet lesbian the Vietnamese woman was easily cajoled into a situation,
where Cassie’s tongue could do the walking, the training with her sister
Sylvie proofing to be of great help.
Alex, Susie and Tina, the three cheerleading seniors, however, were a more
difficult nut to crack. Alex, the snotty rich girl with the status inheritance
complex, after all her mother had been squad captain as well, was as ambitious
as beautiful with her straight, long blond hair, her upturned nose and her
long legs, which reached from the school yard to eternity. She prided herself
of being a virgin, after all this was a religious school, but everyone knew
that she gave blowjobs to Greg, the football captain. Susie was Alex’s pretty
poodle, her trailer trash attitude barely concealed by her I-wanna-be-
rich,-what-do-I-have-to-do demeanor, her curly blond hair as fake as her
boobs, which were rumored to have been financed by a sweet uncle’s take in one
of the reservation casinos. And then there was the mocha tough girl, Tina,
black hair slicked to her round jocund face, which could as easily put to
shame any klieg lights with her pearly whites as put the fear of God into the
biggest gangsta with her scowl. She was sturdy enough to play the bottom to
any stunt and still lithe like a spring as soon as the music hit and her booty
started to dance on its own.
Cassie did her research. She hadn’t been a geek for nothing. A little virtual
break in into the school files, checking out parent’s bank accounts, access to
the town’s hospital and there it was: a little treasure drove of blackmail
material. But no, blackmailing? Never. Just … hinting. So Alex’s story of her
parents break up and her subsequent medication with Prozac became ‘You
wouldn’t know how to get hold of that stuff that really makes you happy, would
you?’ Susie earning her boobs actually herself became ‘Need some money, you
couldn’t tell me someone, who knows how to do tricks, could you?’ Tina’s
little tryst with her best friend in Junior High’s toilet became ‘Wanna go on
a date? Mary told me you know how to make a girl all wiggly inside.’ No wonder
she got five out of five votes. Alex revenge was to make her squad cashier and
so here she was.
‘No. I mean these things are crazy, it’s like being naked. How much were
they?’
‘Well, the models you all chose in the catalogue would have been much too
expensive, so after some haggling the sales lady proposed a bargain. I get off
her hands some old swim suits, which basically had the same cut and similar
colors like the tricots you wanted, but as swim suits just a different
material, and I would fork over about all the money we had and no guarantee,
no exchange.’
‘Swim suits.’
Alex had a way of showing her disregard by treating people like demented. The
look on her face told Cassie that she regarded her at the moment far beyond
demented, lunatic didn’t even come close, stark raving mad was an option.
‘All the money gone and we are stuck with … swim suits?’
Her voice had this slight tinge of hysteria, which normally was a clear sign
that her remarkable nails craved for some innocent victim. The last girl, who
came too close to Greg, still nursed five painful holes in each of her
boobies, which served as handlebars for banging her against the lockers.
‘We could cut Susie’s lips, then they won’t show.’
It normally helped, if you confounded her by acting the way she regarded you
anyway.
‘Cutting Susie’s lips? Cutting Sus …’
Ok, this didn’t look good. Alex was about to go mental, so put on your
seatbelts.
‘Are you out of your fucking mind. Not that I wouldn’t find pleasure cutting
off something or anything for that matter from this conniving bitch …’
Uhuh, so far for friendship.
‘… but cutting off her labia, because you fucked up and bought the wrong
suits? What’s next? Cutting off her clit? Just because you’re castrated means
everyone around you has to end up the same way?
Here, she had said it: castrated was the word. Alex pointed at Sylvie’s
crotch.
‘And what’s that?’
‘Ooops, a wet spot.’
‘Exactly. That’s an ultra performance swim suit. Doesn’t have a gusset,
doesn’t need one, because it’s only worn for very short time during the
competition. Contrary to us. How’d you solve that? Sewing us shut?’
‘That’s actually a good idea.’
Cassie was unfazed by Alex’s sarcasm.
‘Well, we would have to make it reversible, but I could ask Mandy, how to …’
Alex’s scream brought Lucy down the stairs. With her mother Agnes having
joined the Skoptsy and her brother Billy having moved in with his father and
his new wife Wendy, her sister Mandy tried to take care of her. But working at
her father’s practice and running her own special services meant that Lucy
more often than not spend time at her cousin’s place.
‘What’s with her?’
Here she stood: 8 year old wise crack beauty, hands on her hips, her big blue
eyes mustering critically tantrum Barbie, who was just stopped in time before
a second scream.
‘I think she’s just afraid to have a little modification on her pussy, a
little sacrifice for her career.’
‘Well, I know, some people don’t have it in them. That little extra oomph,
which makes the difference between mediocre and true greatness.’
God, does one learn these phrases in kindergarten?
‘Gee, these suits are beautiful.’
She had started to rummage through the pile of suits. Pointing at Cassie,
‘That’s one of them?’
‘Yeah, cool, isn’t it.’
Alex couldn’t listen anymore. After an initial moment of open mouthed
perplexity about the gall of this curly black haired little devil, despair had
taken hold and she sat down on the couch her shaking head in her hands. Susie
had kissed Greg … on the cheek, but still … she should have asked for
permission. And now this!
‘… nah, doesn’t work either. The scotch covers the peak, but it still produces
a hump, so I’m afraid they have to go too.’
Now even Cassie looked worried.
‘You wanna cut off my nipples?’
Nodding Lucy’s little face radiated unmitigated glee. She so enjoyed being
there, when Mandy performed one of her operations. The shriek startled her. It
seemed Alex had re-found her voice.
‘You’re the craziest, scariest, dumbest family I’ve ever seen. You’re off the
team, Cassie and be happy that I don’t have social services run a check on
this place.’
‘Ok everyone, please gather around.’
Eight sweaty girls huffed their way to Professor Nhi.
‘Congratulations. We’re nearly there, still some little slips, but otherwise I
think we can give it a good shot. Not that I want to get your hopes up, as you
know this school never managed to get into the state championship, well with
the exception when Alex’s Ma was captain, but taking part is more important
than actually winning, isn’t it girls?’
Professor Nhi probably didn’t have a career as a motivational speaker in front
of her.
‘By the way good choreography, Alex. Had some moments of greatness. Good stunt
too. You’re a good thrower, Tina. And Maria, perfect landing, going straight
into splits, impressive.’
The tiny Latina girl smiled like she had just encountered her holy namesake.
‘Cassie, thanks for organizing these suits. Wonderful idea to go for rainbow
colors instead of having the same color everyone. They are also tight fitting,
so no unseemly jiggling of any body part. But …’
There was always a ‘but’ with Professor Nhi. This ‘but’ however they dreaded
especially.
‘… I asked Harry to set up the cameras. As you know, the look from the stand
is one thing but with all the cameras projecting to the huge screens it’s
really important that also every zoomed in shot shows perfection. Now have a
look.’
The girls gasped, when the first panning shot introduced Tina’s very visible
inner lips and enormous clit hood to the public. Wait a moment! One could even
see her clit protruding, she must have been mighty excited by Ivana’s sexy
behind dancing in front of her, the big wet spot in her crotch being the
second manifest to her arousal. Susie’s beautiful butterfly wasn’t far behind
with Ivana’s little twirl third in the competition of who had the most obvious
‘outie’. Let’s not forget Maria, no lips there, but a prominent knob on top.
Cassie, Alex, Mi Ling, the Chinese beauty, and Caroline, her long black hair,
slanted eyes and brown complexion revealing her partly Lakota ancestry, had no
problems in that department. Oh no! One could see it only for a short moment,
but Cassie’s and Alex’s eyes met in agreement: There was a reason Caroline was
always shy around them. The material of the suit having perfectly outlined her
pouch, there was no doubt that she was cut, her sex empty except for that
perfectly visible little node at the top of her pussy. Harry’s goofy smile and
the obvious tent in his shorts showed the full extent of appreciation future
audiences might have for this kind of show.
But there were bigger fish to fry: Except for one of Ivana’s nipples, which
was inverted there they stood: fifteen proud little tin soldiers for everyone
to see. Fifteen? Thirteen. What happened with Cassie’s nipples? Alex looked
confused at her nemesis. It had taken Cassie only two or three words with
Susie and Tina and the squad’s rebellion had forced Alex to budge and
reinstall her grudgingly. And now this! It couldn’t be that she was already
one step ahead. Alex looked again at the screen and shook her head. It wasn’t
only the nipples, the visible clits or inner lips, it was their whole sexes,
which were so clearly outlined that they basically shouted: ‘Fuck me:’ To fit
into these suits in a for the preselecting jury acceptable way they would have
to look like Barbie dolls. Female, but sexless.
‘… wouldn’t know, what advise to give.’
She had missed some of Professor Nhi’s surely comforting and wise words.
‘I understand that the old suits are no option?’
‘We phoned everyone, even out of state to some older alumni. No luck. With
repairs we could produce three decent old suits among us.’
Susie had been the head of this operation, with her seamstress mother doing
her best to salvage at least these three.
‘We also checked all possible sponsors to raise more money, but the football
team beat us to it and all our money which we earned over summer is in these
tricots.’
It was obvious that with her fidgety demeanor Cassie had problems talking and
her suit looked like she had peed herself.
‘Well, you know we could always limit ourselves to support our football team,
there the cameras are less obtrusive, and forget about the championship, think
about it.’
‘No way. This fucking cunt. “Forget the championship.” Did you hear what she
said: “good choreography, moment of greatness”? Greatness, her ass. That’s the
best cheerleading routine this school has ever seen. Ever, you hear me, ever.’
Alex was livid, her competition with her own mother psychopathological
evident. After all Alex blamed her for the break up with Alex’s beloved
father, whom she now only saw twice a year. It was this little bit of
information as well as the warning that therefore Alex might go freaky on them
that had secured Cassie’s reinstatement into the group. It helped that Alex
confirmed her unhinged state of mind with a rather strange prep talk, where
she informed them that it might be necessary to adapt to the suits.
‘Now who is in?’
Warned by the prep talk, they still looked confused.
‘What you mean, Alex?’
Maria’s sweet naďve way of asking stupid questions always deflated Alex’s
pushy character, but not today.
‘This.’
In one movement Alex swept down Cassie’s suit to her navel. The girls held
their breath. Two little stumps were all that was left of Cassie’s proud
nipples, the white binding thread still clinging to them, the top of the
stumps looking raw, a scab starting to form. Susie and Tina looked confused.
Why did Cassie warn them, if she herself was ready to go for it? Cassie looked
at them sheepishly.
‘I couldn’t resist. After Mandy explained to me that feeding a baby was still
possible, I had a go over the weekend. When you bind them really strong, they
are dead after a day and you can cut them off nearly painlessly. Well, there
was enough pain to give me one hell of an orgasm. The first one, since my
cutting.’
Here, it was said officially. They had never talked about it, but now it was
in the open that she was a clitless woman. For some of the other girls that
definitely was too much information, shaking their heads they headed for the
showers mumbling.
‘May I touch?’
Who would have thought that tiny conservative Maria was the brave one.
‘Does that have to stay?’
‘Actually one could take it off now.’
Maria produced nail scissors and cut through the binding thread on Cassie’s
nipple stumps. While cutting the second one, Cassie hissed.
‘Did I hurt …’
‘No, I have to pee …’
Cassie’s pressed reply and jumping out of her suit to run to the showers
happened in a flash. As the other girls shrieked Cassie stood with shaking
legs, holding herself up with both hands pressed against the wall, while pee
shot in spurts from her bulging pussy.
‘She’s not peeing, she’s coming.’
Susie’s expert eye explained, why Cassie’s grunting slide down the wall was
the result of another series of orgasms.
‘Look.’
Maria had come to the showers revealing Cassie’s cream caked suit.
‘The rubbing of her cutoff nipples against the suit must have been something.
And now the rushing in of the blood into the top of her stumps really set her
off.’
Tina sat next to shaking Cassie holding her, while steaming water cascaded
over them, her voice full of envy, herself having never experienced an orgasm
of that magnitude.
‘For three years nothing, and now one orgasm after the other.’
Cassie could barely speak, while Susie and Tina helped her up, Susie looking
with unmitigated curiosity at Cassie’s swollen and open sex, revealing the
bare slit.
‘Why you’re fucking half the school, when you can’t come?’
Susie was known for her straight talk.
‘Well, losing your clit doesn’t mean you’re not horny. On the contrary I
haven’t stopped being constantly wet since then. And as much as it drives you
crazy, going to the brink, but never coming is one hell of a turn on,
especially as it means you’re always in control.’
While Tina shook her head in wonder, Susie’s smile said it all: This sounded
mightily enticing. While drying and putting on their clothes the girls tried
to evade Alex scowling stare. Finally Susie and Tina looked at each other and
said: ‘We’re in.’
‘Me too.’
Maria jumped up with eagerness. The other three girls looked on the ground.
Ivana shook her head.
‘Ok, we try the following: We five form the stunt group, Maria will have to
take over some of your part, Mi Ling, and you three will wear the old suits
playing the background.’
Cassie had brought the surgical thread and super glue and they met in the less
used toilet in the basement. Alex’s grim face turned into a grimace of barely
concealed pain, when her second nipple was bound, her eyes suddenly vulnerable
and full of fright.
‘It’s ok.’
Cassie held Alex’s head against her belly, which vibrated from her scream,
while Alex’s pee splashed into the bowl.
Tina just grunted, but when she tried to leave the stall, she suddenly turned
around and vomited.
‘I think, I just wetted my pants.’
‘Better go without them.’
With her head still over the bowl, Tina was helped by Cassie to loose her very
wet panties, her skirt luckily unharmed.
Susie kept on chattering along, till suddenly she shrieked and started to flop
around on the toilet seat with Cassie trying to prevent her falling off.
‘Now, I know,’ she whispered, looking admiringly at Cassie.
Maria looked like a sacrificial lamb, when she entered the stall hesitating,
her former bravado lost in view of the clearly audible reactions of her
friends.
‘Ok, Maria, off with the panties, on the seat, now lets try to get your
nipples as big as possible. Very good. Now I bind one very loosely, then the
other, and now I want you to pull as strong as possible on these ends.
‘Hijo de puta, no es posible.’
Cassie barely managed to close the second one with Maria shouting Spanish
obscenities and waving her arms, when Maria suddenly stopped waving, stopped
shouting, stopped breathing, a look of utter concentration on her face,
rhythmic splashing into the bowl accompanying the sudden silence.
‘Maria, breath!’
Cassie’s worried shaking of her friend was answered by a moan and a rattling
intake of breath, followed by a blissful smile.
When they met three hours later in the school yard, four very tired looking
faces greeted Cassie.
‘I’ve been four times to the toilet.’
Tina’s mumbled confession drew knowing smiles.
‘I can’t feel mine any more.’
There was loss in Maria’s voice.
‘We’ll leave at three o’clock.’
Alex tried to be all down to business as usual, but she couldn’t prevent her
panic shining through.
Here they stood next to Agnes’ tree in the garden of Mandy’s secluded house.
They had shed their clothes standing in a circle holding hands, a bowl,
matches, a bottle of white spirit and the surgical scissors in the middle.
They were shaking from coldness and terror.
‘Grandaunt bought the spirit from her Mambo.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Her voodoo priestess. She promised that whatever will be given to the spirit
will be returned tenfold.’
Maria’s explanation was delivered in gusts of syllables.
‘But I don’t want ten nipples.’
Susie’s deadpan reply broke the tension.
‘Ok, Alex you stand behind Susie and hold her, Tina you do the same with
Maria. Listen, I want you to scream, don’t hold back.’
Susie’s eyes signalled agreement, just before she closed them with
determination. Snip. Drop. Snip. Drop. The two little pieces of pink flesh
were collected in the pot.
‘Ouch. That wasn’t so bad, it’s more like a burning feeling and …Shit.’
Susie was about to turn to Alex in her chattering way, when it hit her. Her
eyes crossing, her legs caving in and forming a very lopsided X, she started
shaking, Alex barely able to hold her.
‘Ready?’
Cassie’s interruption to Tina’s astonished observation of Susie’s orgasmic
breakdown brought back the sinking feeling in Tina’s stomach. A grim nod, one
sharp breath in at the first snip, a grunt, which turned in a bellow at the
second snip just seconds later. Her wet thighs and Maria’s wet feet, eyes
burning with loss and lust were the immediate result.
‘Alex, your turn. Susie, will you be able to hold her?’
Susie was standing on her own by now, breathing heavily.
‘Jesus, my pussy doesn’t stop cramping, but I’m fine. Uh, shit your back is
rubbing on my cut off nipples. Gee, if I grab you too hard, Alex, I hope you
don’t mind …’
Snip. Snip. Alex didn’t even have time to say good bye to her nipples,
confused by Susie’s babbling. More the sight of her pink stumps than the
actual pain drove her to one piercing scream, the following sob only cut short
by pure willpower as she had to be strong as captain of the team.
Maria started screaming Spanish obscenities even before the first cut and
stopped suddenly, when the second brown stub fell into the bowl. With more
force than imaginable she wiggled out of Tina’s grip and ran over the meadow
to a group of trees, where Tina found her rubbing against one of the birch
trees sobbing.
‘How come we only appreciate things, when we lost them?’
The death of her sister in a car accident two years ago still haunted Maria.
Tina prised her away from the tree, where two bloody trails showed her
nipples’ binding to be less than perfect.
‘I’m not sure I can walk, my pussy is so tight, it feels like it’s stuck in my
throat.’
Tina kissed her and led her slowly back to the group.
‘You know this is not all, we’re going to loose, isn’t it?’
Maria’s question carried deep fear, curiosity and resignation in equal
measure. Tina’s grunted nod as answer was enough for one of her warm smiles.
‘Your honour, Maria.’
Cassie let them through the ritual like an old Mambo. After adding her own cut
nipples, which Cassie had preserved in a little box, Maria poured the spirit
and lightened it. They danced around the bowl, arms linked around their
shoulders, their cut of nipple stumps glowing pink, red, brown, black … They
took turns sipping the spirit and spiting it into the flames, each time
intonating ‘We will win.’ By the time the bottle was nearly empty, they had
forgotten the spring cold, their burning stumps and their loss, and the
feeling of a full bladder reminded them of the last part of the ritual:
Dousing the flames with one simultaneous orgy of piss, before emptying the
bowl into the nearby creek.
Training the next day was a disaster: The blinding head ache, the change of
the routine, the material of the suits rubbing on their nipple stumps, the
utter misery of the three girls in the old suits. When they returned to the
changing rooms, producing a heap of brightly colour, strongly smelling swim
suits between them, some banged their heads against the lockers in
frustration, others were holding their crotches or their breasts just
whimpering, while three girls stood there speechless, finally taking their
time ogling five modiefied breasts with terror and fascination at the same
time. Alex opened her locker with grim determination, took out her old Barbie
doll, she had spent three hours looking for in the attic and put her naked in
the middle of the heap of the suits next to Maria’s soaked through crotch.
‘We’re in.’
Ivana’s clouded voice betrayed her reservation as much as the finality of her
decision.
‘Are we?’
Mi Ling’s confusion was mirrored by Caroline’s tears streaming down her face.
Cassie jumped up and hugged her.
‘I know it must have been horrible, but now you are not alone, we’re together
in that, ok?’
‘I was visiting Grandma and she said that in the old Lakota way girls after
their first period had to show that they were brave enough for being mothers.
And if I was ready? And I said yes. I always wanted to be Lakota like her and
not this mixture like Mommy. And she told me not to make any noise and I
didn’t. And she took her old Indian knife and held it in the open fire and
when she started to cut, it smelled like burnt flesh. And it hurt so much, so
much … And I was Lakota, I was brave … no sound. And it is as if this scream
is still stuck in my throat …’
All the girls huddled around Caroline, the words tumbling out as fast as the
tears were flowing.
‘But she left you your clit.’
Her last sob ended in a shy smile. The girls couldn’t resist and started
undressing her.
‘She called it the reward. But it’s a blessing and a curse. See.’
Now it was clear, why she wanted to hide here pussy. The lone little finger at
the top of her pussy was shining red like a signal light, prominently visible
in her rather far away outer lips, her hole open, her pee hole framed by a
prominent G spot, frothy white cream ringing the entrance to her vagina.
‘Wow, you’re having orgasms the whole time?’
Tina couldn’t resist and tasted some of the cream, with most of the other
girl’s looking on in disgust.
‘No, that’s the problem. I don’t even know, how an orgasm is supposed to feel
like. I’m just constantly wet and this knob sends like electric shocks into my
head. But I never get tight like the other girls call it. So I’m not afraid of
loosing it, just the pain.’
A sob seemed to be just around the corner, so Cassie kept on stroking her.
‘This time we will make sure you scream your head off. And who knows, perhaps
you finally achieve an orgasm.’
’Final orgasm.’
Alex was expert in being the kill-joy, the naked Barbie doll in her hands held
like a menetekel. Mi Ling’s nervous scanning of her comrades’ faces revealed
rising panic.
‘We’re talking nipples, right?’
March Break weekend. One week to heal. They had cancelled all holiday plans,
told parents they were on a ‘bonding’ trip together. Cassie had it all set up
with her sister Sylvie visiting from college and her mother Christine
reluctantly taking over the role of house mother for this one week. Mandy had
taken some days off recording the measurements of the girls and programming
the robot.
Mi Ling after the initial shock had come up with an ingenious idea of
refilling their empty squad budget. Prevaricating how to tell her parents, she
ended up having a general discussion with her father about the tradition of
castration in the Chinese imperial court. His mentioning, that the severed
organs would sell for enormous sums as fertility treatment, had Mandy, Cassie
and herself drive the long way to the other side of the state, where they met
a Chinese healer, whom after some prodding her father had named to her. Their
offer was met by hectic phone calls and an exorbitant sum, if the cut off body
parts were delivered fresh the day of the cutting.
Remembering her own quick healing Caroline had spoken with her Grandmother,
who held her for a long time with tears in her eyes, before agreeing to
produce fresh pots of this special salve for the occasion, muttering ‘You’re
on the way of becoming a winyan wakan, my child.’ Only later she understood
that to reach the level of epiphany required for a tribal healer like her
Grandmother, sometimes you had to go through great pain. Was she the chosen
one to follow her Grandmother?
‘That looks like the machine from hell. You could at least have painted it
pink or something.’
Susie’s jokes fell on deaf ears, her own teeth chattering as seven naked girls
observed Cassie holding on to the handles and stepping onto the feet holders.
The next second the restraints clicked shut, she was moved into position,
further restraints enveloping her body and head, till she hang in the air like
a frog just before landing. Her teeth guard gleamed in the surgical light as
the robotic arms started to cut and her face crunched up in pain. The silent
ballet of torture behind the sound prove glass walls was too much for some of
the girls. Ivana and Maria turned away and huddled together both sobbing from
fear and in Ivana’s case the added agony of her bound nipples. Sylvie joined
them, as she could neither look on, while her sister lost the last shred of
her sexuality, nor observe her mother’s pain as again she couldn’t hold her
baby, while going through this. It simply was too dangerous to get in the way
of the robot.
‘Ok, it will hurt. No doubt about it. The most important thing is to breath
through the pain. If you manage that, you will see, the pain turns into
pleasure.’
‘It’s just that my mother will kill me, if she finds out. You know, my
ancestors fled to this country from this strange sect, which tried to force
them to cut their kids, because they tried to have 144.000 members or
something, as then the Messiah would come?’
‘The Skoptsy.’
Mandy had turned around from her screen as the robot was just about finished
stitching Cassie up.
‘You know them? You’re not …’
Panic rose in Ivana’s voice.
‘No no, Mandy’s mother joined them two years ago, but we are not Skoptsy. And
the group, with which she lives, doesn’t have any millenarian tendencies; I
don’t think they even are particularly religious, just eunuchs enjoying each
others company. But you could always tell your mother that you paid the family
debt, so she doesn’t have to worry any more that they would come after you
all.’
The hissing of the door interrupted Ivana’s comprehension that her cutting
might actually serve a higher purpose. The other girls shuddered, when the
whiff of burning flesh met their nostrils. Christine was next to her daughter
in a flash, kissing her tear stained face, stroking her sweaty hair. Mandy
controlled the stitching and the seat of the catheter, murmuring approval. She
applied Caroline Grandma’s salve. The girls crowded around her, when Cassie
staggered from the glass cube with Christine’s help. She forced herself to
smile and to speak encouraging words, while Mandy prepared Alex by inserting
the urethral protection shield and her teeth guard and positioned her on the
robot. Although walking with difficulty Cassie turned around and went back to
look into Alex’s terror filled eyes, holding her face between her sweaty
hands, whispering.
‘Promise me, you won’t hold back. You don’t need to be strong in here, you’re
not our captain in here and you don’t have to set an example in here, ok? I
want you to scream and wail like a little baby, like you wanted to, when your
father left you and you had to be strong for your mother.’
Tears shot into Alex’s eyes, her voice barely audible through the teeth guard.
‘I promise.’
Christine wanted to bring Cassie up into the spacious attic, which they had
prepared as their common sleeping room, but Cassie insisted on staying, being
held by Susie and Tina glued to the glass to witness Alex’s de-sexing. From
her open mouthed convulsions of her face it was obvious that she was
fulfilling her promise. Sylvie passed Cassie something to drink, having come
back from the storeroom, where they had prepared a special bag for all their
body parts. Sylvie hadn’t resisted and had kissed Cassie’s prominent lips good
bye, when putting them into the bag. She admired Mandy’s programming expertise
as the cutting had taken just enough of Cassie’s mons for the lips to hang
together, but did not touch the flaming arrow, which now pointed to a fine
scar. First when the lasers hit the protection shield burning out her G spot
and then again when her clit was cut from her body, Alex’s shaking was heart
breaking to witness.
‘Have the ceramic shields not arrived yet?’
Christine’s whispered question, as well as Mandy’s silent shaking of her head
was witness to their collaboration to spare patients the agonizing destruction
of their urethral glands as an inevitable consequence of protecting their pee
holes. They also experimented with more precise laser settings, but till now
their assumption that ceramic shields would not transmit the heat into the
urethra was their biggest hope for a solution yet. Alas not yet for these
unlucky girls. A hiss and all three jumped into action, lifting the half
conscious Alex from the robot. By the time Mandy had finished applying the
salve, she could stand on her own feet, but walked with the grace of a nappy
swaddled two-year-old. The other girls hugged her with admiration as much as
trepidation, while Susie was prepared, hissing when the shield entered her pee
hole.
‘Here goes my career as Mata Hari.’
Still joking, the lines in her face told the story of an un-slept night,
fucking herself to exhaustion, not believing that this would be the last time.
‘I rather think the prize just went up.’
Mandy’s answer had her go laughing to the slaughter.
With Alex nearly collapsing Christine finally convinced Cassie to also leave
for the attic. When she brought up a sweat soaked Susie, who had managed to
croak an encouraging ‘Gee, I thought last night was crazy, but this cutting
business, wicked, best orgasms ever’, she found them sleeping in each others
arms.
Tina’s tough girl act broke down, when her clit was slowly cut from her body
and her orgasm just seemed to continue, even when Mandy had to rush in to add
some stitches to the top of her pussy as her clit had been bigger than
programmed and she started to bleed heavily. Christine had trouble to calm the
other girls till Tina walked out with a lopsided grin giving high fives to
everyone.
Having taken advice from her Grandaunt, Maria started shouting Voodoo
incantations as soon as the robot started to lift her in the right position.
It seemed to help as she started to sway, as much as this was possible due to
the restraints, her face changing from goofy smiles to expressions of surprise
and back, her eyes rarely blinking as if in a state of otherworldliness. The
strong convulsions of her pussy were visible even while the robot was
stitching her shut. Only repeated shaking brought her back into the world,
where she gratefully accepted Sylvie’s drink, which had the secondary effect
of sleep inducing pain relief.
Uncle Bernie’s adaptation of the robot to cut off nipples instead of
cauterizing whole breasts took its first test with Ivana, who now bravely saw
a higher sense in her sacrifice. It didn’t prevent her from sobbing
uncontrollably till the moment, where in the same instant her nipples and her
clit were separated from her body. A moment of sudden silence, where it looked
as if she wanted to crawl back into her own body, was followed by a scream so
loud, it was faintly audible through the sound prove glass with Mi Ling and
Caroline clinging to each other in terror.
‘I’m not sure, I can do this.’
Mi Ling’s sobbed confession brought Sylvie and Christine to the two girls to
hug and console them. Bringing them into the glass cube to help with Ivana’s
treatment, applying the salve, checking her catheter was well connected to the
bag on her thigh, as well as Ivana’s sobbed confession that the crazy
explosion in the last seconds of her cutting was beyond description helped
them find their resolution again. Mi Ling just went to Mandy’s operating
table, took one of the shields, and pressed the metal tube into her pee hole,
moaning with pain. While Christine was helping Ivana up to the attic, Caroline
lifted Ivana’s sex into the little box that Sylvie held ready to be added to
the cooling bag. Mi Ling looked over her shoulder, while Caroline stroked
Ivana’s now dead clit.
‘Someone will be very happy today to eat this and become pregnant.’
With these words she covered her pretty teeth with the plastic guard and
approached the robot, just in time for Mandy to finish cleaning it from
Ivana’s poop, a little accident, which only was natural in such extreme
situations.
While Caroline tried to convey encouragement to her suffering friend with her
eyes, a little hand sneaked into her own.
‘You’re the bravest. The last one is always the bravest, absorbing all the
pain of the ones before her.’
Caroline couldn’t believe her eyes. This minx not only was wise beyond her
years, she also was naked and stroking her pussy with abandonment.
‘You must be Lucy, Mandy’s sister.’
‘And I am also the sweetest pussy in town, says Mandy. Wanna taste?’
This explanation perturbed Caroline on several levels. Still the wet finger
held up to her face as well as the big blue eyes full of innocent mischief
were irresistible. She wasn’t into girls at all, but that smell of freshly
pressed apple juice, ripe melons with a tinge of pussy had her salivating. One
lick and the hissing of the door reminded her of her impending doom. Mi Ling
was barely conscious, when they lifted her from the robot. Sylvie and
Christine helped her one step at a time. Coming out of the glass box Caroline
hugged her.
‘It’s worth it. Kiss my clit good bye.’
Just whispers, before she nearly collapsed again. Lucy brought the little box
and Caroline lifted Mi Ling’s sex out of the tray. Here it was: snuggled,
barely visible, but due the robot’s fixation clamp pressed out of its hood, on
top of Mi Ling’s prominent outer lips. She kissed Mi Ling’s clit.
‘May I also?’
Lucy didn’t wait for an answer and licked along Mi Ling’s dead slit.
‘Mhm, I like Chinese. It always has this fishy soya sauce taste.’
Mandy approached with the shield, Caroline opened her legs, her cut pussy
revealing all its glory by itself.
‘This looks neat.’
Lucy stroked over her naked clit, which seemed to have grown to thrice its
usual size, the moment the tube entered her pee hole, the double sensation
making her throw back her head. When she was about to mount the robot, Lucy
whispered to her, ‘Cassie gave me a message: Don’t be brave. Be a winyan
wakan. Fly!’
She didn’t have time to wonder, where from Lucy knew the Lakota word for
healer, when the first burning feeling told her, it was time to scream her
head off. Between screams she started to babble Lakota words that she had
learned from her Grandmother, asking for strength, asking for relieve, asking
for time to move faster. And then the lasers hit the shield and she thought
she was going to get cooked from the inside, when suddenly her asshole started
to convulse on its own and she felt her outer lips separating from her body.
Three messages of blinding light converged from three different positions to
lodge behind her eyes and she was flying on a cloud of utter bliss, seeing
herself shaking like a leaf, spread in this black machine. She saw Lucy
standing with Christine staring in wonder and suddenly she looked out of
Lucy’s eyes just in time to recognise Mandy’s panic, who had jumped up,
shouting ‘We have to get her out, quick.’ Switching to Mandy happened in a
heart beat, her worries of epileptic attacks, heart failure, nerve shock
tumbling over each other and nearly burying her under their weight, were it
not for the incredible energy coursing through Caroline’s being. Energy, she
could share and Mandy suddenly was quiet again, ‘It’s ok. She’s calming down.
The program stops in fifteen seconds.’ Only fifteen seconds to keep on flying?
Grandma’s soothing voice brought the solution, ‘Come home child, you still
have to learn so much.’ Suddenly she felt the last stitch going through her
burned skin and she shouted with pain.
There were moments of desolation:
‘This is really fucked up. I can’t get a second finger into this small hole.’
‘Susie, stop it, you will tear your stitches.’
There were moments of joy:
‘Look at that, one suitcase of money: Thanks Sylvie, any problems with the
delivery?’
‘No, very nice lady, she tried to convince me to add mine to it, but I
promised her next time.’
There were moments of pain:
‘One, two, three.’
‘Fuuuuuuck. Who had this idiotic idea to pull the catheters out in form of a
circle jerk?’
The biggest problem, however, was left for the last days of their holidays.
After several attempts to rehearse their routine, it became clear: Maria would
need months to be able to do splits again. Tina shouldn’t lift anything heavy
for the time being. Everyone had a rather limited repertoire of painless
movements. It was Lucy, who had become something like a house ghost, flitting
around in all kind of stages of undress like her charges, applying salve to
swollen, stitched up pussies, emptying urine bags, holding hands, while taking
very painful shits, licking sore nipple stumps, who had the answer:
‘You’re Barbie dolls, so dance like dolls.’
Alex outdid herself by setting up a new choreography with everyone pitching in
with ideas, something she would have resisted before with grim determination.
There was laughter now, when they worked and experimented with their new
bodies, and Alex actually had a very nice laugh. Sunday lunch time they had a
new routine. Hissing and puffing from pain they donned their beautiful suits
and gave a show to Christine, Lucy and Mandy, Sylvie having left for college
already. Amidst the applause and bravos, Lucy’s voice stated, ‘There is a
problem.’
Alex cried even more, when they cut her long blond hair to a replica of
Tina’s, than she had cried for her clit, but the look of Professor Nhi was
worth it. Eight nearly identical short haired girls, dancing like puppets on
strings, their explicit suits revealing … nothing.
They won the state championship. In the end it was their originality that had
carried the day.
‘I will miss that.’
Tina was pulling Susie’s stitches out of her sewn up hole.
‘Gee, you’re soaking wet in there. That would have given one big wet spot,
were it not for the stitches.’
Tina took a taste. Maria rushed in, a throng of people visible in front of the
entrance to the locker room, microphones tangling in front of Alex’s face.
‘Can you do my stitches as well? I forgot and nearly tried to pee through
them.’
She peeled out of her suit.
‘Gee, girl, do your nipples grow back? They really look big.’
‘No. I just met this guy …’
‘Oh no, it’s going to be heart break time again.’
Susie had seen Maria’s hopeless trysts ad nauseam. Boys were not ready for
eunuch relationships.
‘Ouch, don’t be so mean Tina.’
‘Just reminding you, that your sex looks different than the usual fuck
material.’
‘But I’m sure he understands. He said we are famous now, we are the Dollies …’
* * * |
Taleban | GAY, PENECTOMY, MINOR | A short one-off factual tale relating another crime of the Taleban and their al-Qaeda allies. | ` TALEBAN `
by Pueros
(Kandahar, Afghanistan, June 1994)
The frightened ‘ashna’, or ‘beloved’, arms tightly held by two Taleban
soldiers, was brought before Mullah Muhammad Omar, sat behind a desk in the
office of his heavily guarded compound. Another man, with a long grey beard,
sat in a corner. “I understand that you are Torjan’s bedboy,” declared the
Mullah, “and that Abdul also wants you as his catamite.” The shamed 14 years
old, straight black hair crowning a beautiful light brown face bearing many
European features, appropriate for someone whose ancestors included some of
Alexander the Great’s Greek settlers, responded by aiming his enchanting dark
eyes at his feet.
Kandahar used to be regarded as the homosexual capital of south Asia. It was
said that the birds flew over the city using only one wing for the other was
needed to protect their posteriors, such was the indigenous Pushtan males’
obsession with sodomy. Bearded men, most married with many children, would be
seen everywhere, on streets, at corners, in shops and in hotels, with their
fresh-faced clean-shaven pretty ashna, usually aged between 14 and 16 and
groomed for sex. The boys were invariably from poor families, seduced into
selling their bodies to their patrons in return for gifts. Hashish, watches,
jewellery and even motorbikes were frequently exchanged for their favours,
although the offer of a fighting pigeon, often worth about $400, was usually
most prized by the recipients.
The ashnas’ parents invariably knew into what kind of relationship their sons
had entered but only admitted to others that the lads worked in some way for
their adult companions. Kandaharis accepted such liaisons as an integral and
ancient part of their culture, reflected in much poetry about the beauty of
such catamites. During the troubles, many Mujahidin soldiers even took boys by
force and kept them openly for as long as they wanted.
Abdul and Torjan were two important warlords who had divided control of
Kandahar between themselves since the breakdown of central government rule
from Kabul. They had never been on friendly terms but had become allies to
prevent the Taleban from gaining local ascendancy. Abu had reluctantly become
Torjan’s ashna in order to secure articles that his impoverished family could
sell, his father being unable to work, having been crippled by a landmine
whilst fighting the Russians. However, his patron had made the mistake of
taking the boy with him to one of his regular meetings with Abdul, who was
immediately infatuated by the 14 years old’s beauty.
Abdul later courted his rival’s ashna, unsuccessfully to the warlord’s
undisguised disgust, and this had increased the tensions between the two armed
camps, although blood had not yet been spilt. However, Muhammad Omar and his
crony were determined that this truce should not last. Abu was therefore
abducted after a visit home and taken to the headquarters of the Taleban.
Muhammad Omar looked at his colleague, who nodded, before continuing. “You are
a whore,” the Mullah shouted, spittle falling onto his desk, “an obscenity in
the eyes of Allah and a profanity to his sacred book, the Koran. I declare
that you can no longer be considered a Muslim and that your disgusting
lifestyle must be ended!” He looked at the guards holding the appalled and
terrified boy and commanded “Take him to the doctor!”
The deeply apprehensive Abu was led out of the office and along several
corridors to the operating theatre, where the white-gowned doctor awaited him.
The soldiers left and the physician, after locking the door, walked round the
gorgeous quaking boy, simply but neatly dressed in a long brown tunic with
matching trousers and sandals. When the man eventually spoke, it was with a
single word. “Strip!” he ordered. The abashed lad hesitated but, after another
louder impatient command to disrobe, reluctantly complied, leaving his
clothing in a heap on the floor.
“Take your hands away from your privates” was the smirking Doctor’s next
instruction, “and hold them at your sides.” Abu slowly obeyed, revealing
immaculately formed, completely smooth, genitalia, a cut humiliatingly
horizontal erection displayed above the delicious duo of firm co-joined orbs
that comprised his ball sac. The physician again strolled round the boy,
feasting his eyes on the delights of the young nude form. “Your really are a
true heathen slut,” the man eventually announced when his inspection was
completed, his own cock rigid underneath his clothing, “so you might as well
practise what you’re good at. Kneel before me!” The lad reluctantly did so and
was soon servicing a large throbbing penis with his mouth for his effort.
After almost suffocating Abu by holding the boy’s head tightly against his
groin as climax and a flood of associated sperm was achieved, the doctor
released the lad and told him to lie face up on the operating table. Abu,
semen dribbling down his chin and intensely scared, unwillingly complied and
found himself being strapped to the cool surface of the table in a
spreadeagled position. The physician then smeared the boy’s sublime genitals
with stinging antiseptic, instantly bringing tears to the 14 years old’s eyes.
There was a knock and the doctor went to unlock the door so that the man with
the grey beard could enter. The latter did not speak but it was clear that he
had come to watch whatever was about to happen. The man saw the semen on Abu’s
chin but chose to ignore the evidence of the physician’s sinful activity.
The doctor returned to the tremulous Abu, picking up a scalpel from a nearby
table on the way. He then glanced reverently at the sneering spectator, who
nodded, and placed the scalpel against the lower base of the boy’s still-erect
cock.
“No!” screamed Abu as the doctor carefully began his incision, ignoring the
spurting blood and semen as he neatly sliced off the hard penis, placing it in
a little dish, which he gave to the man with the grey beard. The latter nodded
again, this time to convey acknowledgement rather than permission to proceed.
Neither man commented on the fact that the teachings of Allah forbade the
emasculation of a fellow Muslim.
(Kandahar, Afghanistan, December 1994)
The terrified Abdul and Torjan found themselves helplessly bound at the foot
of a tall wall. They could hear the sound of the tank tracks as the armed
vehicle approached. Suddenly, the wall above them bulged outwards and bricks
began to fall on them. The warlords were suffering the traditional Muslim
punishment for sodomy and neither survived the experience.
Torjan had received his former ashna’s severed penis in a bloodied semen-
stained envelope, which also contained the message ‘A memento of Abu, Love
Abdul.’ An internecine bloodbath between the two warlords’ militias
immediately broke out, fatally weakening both. The Taleban had stepped into
the resultant power vacuum and quickly spread its tentacles over much of
Afghanistan.
(Afghanistan, near the border with Pakistan, January 2002)
The captain of the American special forces unit had come to respect greatly
his 21 years old local scout, seemingly equally fanatical in the search for
their prey.
Abu had contemplated suicide after eventually being released, months later and
after much more sexual abuse, from the Taleban compound but such action was
against his faith. He had therefore, despite his tender age, taken up arms
with the Mujahidin to fight the Taleban, hoping to die in combat. However, his
constant battlefield bravery had not resulted in death but in heroic status.
The events of September 11th 2001 had also concentrated his mind. He now
wanted to live to slice off the cock, before cutting the throat, of the man
with the grey beard, whose name he now knew, Osama bin Laden.
THE END
of
TALEBAN
by Pueros
* * * |
Spezialinstitut (4) | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | Spezailinstitut in Wien erfüllt die besonderen Wünsche der Eheherrinnen | Spezialinstitut- Teil 4
Zunächst musste Simon ganz langsam vorbereitet werden, ich wollte das
komplette Programm mit ihm und seiner Frau verwirklichen und dafür benötigt
man eben vor allem viel Sorgfalt und Konzentration, die ich mir gerne dafür
nehmen wollte. Also fesselte ich ihn auf dem Bauch liegend an meinen
Foltertisch , der wahrlich schon viel erlebt hatte. Die Arme und Beine wurden
durch schwere Stahlfesseln so fixiert dass Simon keinerlei Bewegung mehr
ausführen konnte und auch so gespreizt dass ich ungehinderten Zugriff auf
seine Geschlechtsorgane hatte. Zum Aufwärmen nahm ich meine harte Reitgerte
und begann ganz langsam zählend auf den Hodensack einzuschlagen. Da ich sehr
versiert in dieser Methode bin traf ich abwechselnd sein linkes und rechtes Ei
ganz präzise und sein Sack wurde ganz rot und immer größer.
Simon schrie und stöhnte bei jedem neuen Schlag doch ich arbeitete
unbarmherzig weiter und sah bald dass seine Nudel wieder steif geworden war.
Das freute mich sehr denn mein Spass an der Arbeit wurde dadurch noch viel
mehr angeregt. Doris sah mit Interesse und Neugier zu , sie hatte es eben so
entschieden dass ihr Mann heute von mir kastriert werden sollte und vielleicht
tat ihr Simon auch ein bißchen leid aber sie unterbrach mich in keiner Weise.
Mein Arbeitsplan sah so aus dass ich zunächst die Sackhaut entfernen wollte um
endlich die Eier ganz nackt und ungeschützt vor mir zu haben, dieses
köstlichste aller Vergnügen mit einem Männerkörper wollte ich ganz ausführlich
geniessen. Simon sollte dabei aber zusehen dürfen um jeden Schritt genau zu
kennen, daher stellte ich die Videokamera so auf, dass sie genau auf seine
Organe gerichtet war und auf dem Bildschirm in der Ecke des Gewölbes erschien
sofort das Bild in SuperHD Qualität riesenhaft vergrößert.
Da mein Foltertisch so raffiniert gebaut war, dass die beiden Beine weit
gespreizt werden konnten, hatte ich einen V-förmigen Ausschnitt in dem ich
locker stehen und arbeiten konnte, und vor allem Platz genug um die Hoden an
den Samenleitern freu baumeln sehen zu können, wenn ich sie erst aus ihrem
Sack freigelegt hatte. Die Planung dieses Aktes ist für mich immer der
köstlichste Teil meiner Arbeit, die meisten Männer die zu mir geschickt werden
haben ja an ihrer Nudel schon sehr viel ertragen müssen, aber haben ihre
eigenen nackten Hoden noch nie gesehen und schon gar nicht behandelt bekommen.
Doris sass in ihrem bequemen Lehnstuhl und hatte sowohl das Monitorbild wie
auch die reale Anordnung genau in ihrem Blickfeld, sie entzündete ganz
entspannt eine Zigarette und war offenbar auf alles kommende erwartungsvoll
gespannt. Dann sprach sie leise zu Simon:“ Du hast ja bei mir sehr brav deine
Aufgaben gelernt, und du darfst mich auch weiterhin sehr lange schlecken und
auskosten, du ersparst dir eben meine Folterungen deiner Geschlechtsteile in
Zukunft,…. Und weisst du warum….? ……Weil du sie hier heute für immer hergeben
wirst ! Frau Elisabeth ist die beste Schneiderin die ich für dich finden
konnte und du darfst auch jede Aktion ganz ganz groß auf dem Bildschirm
mitverfolgen, nur wenn du jammerst werden wir dir die Augen verbinden müssen
!“ wird fortgesetzt !
* * * |
18th Birthday Present, Part V: Justin meets Dr. Dunn | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Justin wants to feel better | ` That Saturday morning we drove to Dr. Dunn office. Justin sat next me and my
wife sat in the back seat. Because we had not spiked Justin’s ice tea or
orange juice with alcohol since Thursday morning, our son was feeling like his
old self. Other than being a little apprehensive about seeing an out-of-town
“specialist” for his strange symptoms, Justin was in fine spirits. Our boy had
no idea that he was only hours away from being castrated. `
As I drove, I keep looking over at Justin. He was dressed neatly in chinos
that nicely showed off his slim, narrow hips and rippled stomach. His oxford
blue shirt turned his eyes turquoise, which drew attention to his high cheek
bones and square chin. I remember thinking how handsome he looked; almost like
a teen idol. Justin lazily draped his muscular left arm over the back of the
front seat and made small talk with us. I found the thought that he was
unknowingly spending his last hours as a complete young man a turn on. Right
now, I thought, testosterone was being pumped through his system for the last
time. By this afternoon he would be a eunuch.
We arrived shortly after 11 at the medical building where Dr. Dunn had his
office. Located in an expensive suburb of the city, the building was only a
few years old and hidden behind a cluster of trees. The doctor told me that
since it was Saturday the building would be deserted and he was right—the
parking lot was empty. We drove around back, and used the rear entrance.
As we waited for the elevator in the lobby, I read the building’s directory.
Most of the physicians who had offices there seemed to be either plastic
surgeons or psychiatrists, but some, like Dr. Dunn, omitted listing their
specialty. We took the elevator to the third floor, and as I looked over at my
son, I suddenly felt very pleased with myself. I think I realized that I had
Justin trapped and there was no way for him to escape from being castrated at
the hands of Dr. Dunn.
We walked into Dr. Dunn’s office, and after standing for a few moments in the
plush waiting area, the doctor suddenly appeared. He was a small man, a little
more than five feet tall, but heavy of chest and thick of neck. He was well
over sixty years old and he was bald except for the white hair on the side and
back of his head. The surgeon scrubs he wore were too big for him, and,
unfortunately for Justin, made the doctor look disarming.
Introductions were made and Dr. Dunn flashed a smile to Justin to put him at
ease, and asked our son to follow him into an examination room. My wife took a
seat in the waiting area, but at the last moment, I asked if I too could be
present for the exam, and the doctor said I could come in for a few minutes.
Justin’s brows arched in puzzlement that I would asked such a thing, but
didn’t try to stop me from coming into the exam room.
In one corner of the room was the exam table, and directly in front of us was
a small desk with two chairs facing each other. Dr. Dunn weighed and measured
my son and then asked him to sit on the exam table so he could take Justin’s
blood pressure, temperature and pulse. Dr. Dunn was making notations on a
clipboard and not really paying attention to Justin who was describing his
symptoms during the last few days. I just stood by without saying a word and
watch the doctor give Justin his pre-surgical physical without my son having
the slightest idea that he was just a few minutes away from loosing those two
precious orbs that were the essences of his young manhood.
Dr. Dunn finished his exam and a smirk sweep across his lips. He looked my son
directly in the eyes and told him that he knew what was wrong him, and that he
needed to give him a shot. The shot of course, would be the narcotic that
would let the doctor hypnotize Justin. Then, without looking away from my son,
Dr. Dunn asked me to step outside.
About 45 minutes later the door to the exam door opened and Dr. Dunn ask my
wife and I to step in. There sitting in one of the chairs was Justin. He was
obvious in some sort of trance. His was looking straight ahead, and his eyes
showed no expression whatsoever and there was a blank look on his face. Dr.
Dunn sat down across from our son.
“Your parents just walked in Justin. Tell them what we’ve been talking about,”
said the doctor, his eyes dancing maliciously with deception.
Automatically, our son answered. “The poison in my body that’s making me
sick.”
“And where is the poison coming from, Justin,” asked the doctor.
“From my testicles,” said my son in a monotone voice.
“And what needs to be done to make you feel better? I know you want to feel
better, Justin,” said the doctor with a dishonest look in his eyes.
“My testicles must be removed,” said Justin.
“You’re right, Justin, they need to be removed.” Dr. Dunn opened a folder that
was on the desk that contained the voluntary castration form. “Justin, I need
you to sign something. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, I can,” said our son.
Dr. Dunn handed Justin a pen, and with that, Justin dropped his eyes to the
form and automatically signed his sexual death warrant.
Dr. Dunn looked at us, smiled, and put the document back in the folder. Then
he told Justin that he was going to wake him, that he would remember nothing
of this past conversation, and that our son would do exactly as ordered by the
surgeon and not question what was about to happen to him or the results of his
surgery. With that, the doctor snapped his fingers three times, and Justin
shook his head slightly, blinked his eyes a few times and came back to
reality. He looked at us for a moment, then looked at Dr. Dunn. Justin seemed
a little dazed, and the old doctor asked my wife and I to step outside.
I followed her out of the examination room and closed the door behind me. I
hesitated for a minute in the hallway, and pressed my ear against the door to
listen for what I knew would happen next. After a moment of silence, I clearly
heard the doctor firmly speak to my son, the tone of his voice strong and
commanding.
“Justin, I want you to remove you clothes, underwear too, please, and lay down
on my exam table.”
I turned and walked into the waiting room to join Justin’s mother. My heart
racing in excitement to what was happening to my son in the next room. I
smiled as I picked up a magazine and begin flipping the pages for something to
read. There’s no turning back now I thought.
End of part V
* * * |
The Crime | TESTICLES, MINOR | A school bully gets what he deserves. | Clinton City’s Crime Of The Century, such as it was, took place forty years
ago and the authorities are no closer to solving it now than they were thirty-
seven or thirty-eight or thirty-nine years ago. Clinton City’s just a hick
farm town and to folks around here it was just as big a deal as 9/11 or the
O.J. Simpson bullshit, and just about everyone seems to remember the morning
that Sean Kent was found tied to a picnic table in Rotary Park. The small city
park would be hard pressed to accommodate more that two dozen people and is
virtually deserted at dawn, but four times that many claim to have personally
been there when the hapless youngster was found, and all can recall the horror
that had been inflicted on him.
What kind of person, people wondered, could willfully castrate another human,
especially an innocent, probably virginal sixteen-year-old boy? And Sean
wasn’t just anyone. He had been raised right here and his parents were both
considered pillars of the community. The handsome boy was popular and well
liked. He played both football and basketball for the Clinton Warriors and was
always on the honor roll as well as working after school at the Safeway.
Nobody recalled Sean ever having alcohol on his breath and he never had the
glassy eyes or running nose of one of the lower class boys suspected of using
drugs. He didn’t swear; in fact he probably wouldn’t say ‘shit!’ if he stepped
in it. No one ever caught him sneaking a cigarette and his bare ass was never
seen pumping up and down in the back seat of his dad’s car. No rumors
circulated accusing him of knocking up someone’s sister or daughter even
though Amy Walters said that he’d gotten his hand inside her blouse one time
at the Rialto. She’d pushed it away and said no, not yet, and he’d respected
her wishes like a perfect gentleman and had even continued to date her.
Was the monster still living in the community or was he just some psycho that
had just been passing through? Would he strike again? Would he also attack
young girls? Nobody knew, but doors were kept locked from then on and kids
were suddenly required by their parents to be home earlier. Any one of four of
us could have eased the public’s fears and assured them that they were now
safe, but by breaking our vow of secrecy we’d be putting our own balls on the
line.
“I sometimes wish that you could be a little more like Sean Kent,” Mom said,
sitting down to the supper table. Dad worked the late shift and ate early, so
Mom and I always ate together and she insisted on me being there every
evening.
“He’s not that great, Mom,” I replied. I was in a hurry to eat and leave and
go out and screw around with my buddies.
“It’s not that I don’t love you,” she said, piling some more fried potatoes
onto my plate, “but if you’d slim down a little I know you could make the
tennis team, and maybe if you studied just a little harder you could be on the
honor roll, too.” The real issue here wasn’t me, it was Mom. Honor roll
postings and athletic letters were handed out at an awards ceremony and the
parents were always invited to rise and be recognized for their kids’
achievements, and Sean’s parents did a lot of standing up and smiling humbly.
Dad didn’t give a shit about stuff like that but Mom felt cheated that she was
always left out of the limelight.
“I told you, I don’t like tennis. And Sean doesn’t take Advanced Algebra and
Physics, mom. They’re a lot tougher than Woodshop and Art, you know.” I
replied, trying to act like I didn’t give a rat’s ass about Sean. I was faking
it, though. I hated Sean with a vengeance.
I was in the Fifth grade when Sean transferred into the school. He was from
somewhere in Texas and the local grain company had hired his dad for a plant
manager. The old manager had died and my dad was in line for the position, but
instead of giving him a promotion the owners hired an out of town bigshot for
the somewhat prestigious position. Sean was ten; the same age as I, and he had
a slow southern drawl and the nasty habit of calling all women Ma’am and all
men Sir. He even complimented the cafeteria cooks on the quality of their
daily slop and praised the effort of the janitorial staff. As if that wasn’t
enough he was also a smart little asshole and twisted the bell curve up to the
point where my own grades fell down a little bit.
He was taller and stronger than any of his classmates and even as a pre-
adolescent he could shinny up the climbing rope in the gym like a monkey, and
he could run faster and hit a baseball farther than anyone else in the fifth
grade. He was always first choice for the pickup games we played, and
whichever team he was on was automatically the winner.
Even his named pissed us off. There were a lot of Dougs and Jims and Bills and
Mikes, a Robert and a Bob and a Larry and a couple of Kens and a few of the
more uncommon names like Kevin and Aaron in our class, but no one had even
heard of a kid being named Sean. A few years later Sean Connery would
immortalize James Bond and that would change, but in 1962 no one even knew how
to pronounce the name.
By the time we got to the Seventh grade we all had formed an opinion about
Sean. All of the girls absolutely adored him. Half of the guys admired him and
tried to emulate his shy and polite demeanor and spent hours trying to imitate
his Texas drawl. The rest of us either didn’t much like him or hated his guts.
He had never really done anything to me, so although I didn’t hate him I also
didn’t have any reason to like him. That all changed about the middle of the
school year.
Sean was among the first guys in the class to grow hair and get balls, and he
was the very first to come under their hormonal influence. I don’t have any
idea if he was really interested in girls but he was sure as hell interested
in other guys’ balls. The guys whose nuts hadn’t yet dropped were safe; he no
interest in them, but any guy with hair was fair game and he’d wrestle them to
the ground and put a nut lock on them or thump them hard in the balls. We were
all kind of bad that way, but he was by far the worst. The rest of us tapped
each other a little but he was positively vicious, almost as if by some
primordial urge he wanted to keep other viable sperm out of the breeding pool.
I hadn’t entered puberty yet so I was safe but all of my newly pubescent
buddies got it sooner or later. ‘Where’s Bob?’ Someone would ask. “Oh, he got
Seaned,’ would be a typical answer. Bob wouldn’t show up for school the next
day, and the day after he’d have a note from home forbidding him from taking
PE, or if he did strip down his balls would be swollen and purple. I figured
that someone would rat Sean out so that even his super polite brown nosing ass
would be grass, but it didn’t happen.
I grew hair and balls myself over the summer, and I entered the Eighth grade
taller and stronger, and also keenly aware of the pain Sean could inflict. I
saw him eyeballing me in the shower room, but there were five other guys that
were now also endowed so I figured that I might have time to make some kind of
plan. Yeah, right. He nailed me right after I got off the school bus on the
third day of school. Instead of riding the bus with the peons, his mom picked
him up and dropped him off. He lived a mile down the road from me, so as soon
as he got home he beat feet back and hid in the brush alongside the long
driveway and waited for my bus.
He had me down before I even knew what was happening and quickly opened my
zipper and grabbed my balls. Damn, he was strong! I was kicking and screaming
for him to stop, but he just clamped down harder. I flailed at him wildly,
trying to beak his grip, and eventually had a clear shot at his nuts. My
balled up fist connected with a solid metallic clang. The asshole was wearing
a steel nut cup!
I distinctly remember pissing my pants, and that made him let go, but before I
could grab my aching balls he slammed his fist into them. I rolled up in the
dusty road and puked out the remains of my lunch. Two walnuts landed in the
dirt right in front of my face. “You gonna tell on me?” Sean asked, stomping
his foot down to shatter the nuts. The implication was clear, and the
knowledge that I was helpless against him hurt as much as the physical pain in
my balls and belly.
Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to putting up with four years of
high school with Sean and his crap. He didn’t jump me again, but his very
attitude made it clear that it was waiting for me again any time I wanted it,
or any time I pissed him off. He eventually nailed every kid in our freshman
class, and the next year, when we were sophomores, he started in on the newly
arrived freshmen.
Mike and Bob and Doug and I were dressing after PE one day in the late spring,
and happened to notice Pete Wilson, a diminutive freshmen that everyone liked,
had a bad case of swollen balls and was walking kind of stooped over. “Asshole
Sean,” Mike commented.
“Yeah,” Doug agreed. “Someone needs to take him down a notch or two.”
“You know what I’d like to do?” Bob interjected. “I’d get him alone somewhere,
all tied up. And wrap a piece of strong wire around his nuts and hoist him up
and let him hang until he dropped.”
“That ought to do it,” I offered, “but I’d rather take a knife and cut them
off, nice and slow like.”
“I’d band him, just like a calf, and sit there and watch his balls die,” Mike
said, getting into it.
“You know that thing he does with the walnuts?” It was Doug’s turn. “I’d do
the same thing to his nuts. That would be a good lessen for him.” We all
laughed it off and got dressed and went to out next classes.
“Seriously, guys, how would you do it?” I asked later when we had all piled
into Doug’s car for the five-mile ride home that usually took at least an
hour.
“Do what?” Mike asked.
“Fix Sean.” I answered.
“I told you, I’d put an elastrator band on him.”
“No, I mean how would you get away with it? You know, not get caught.” I
pursued the subject.
“Hell, I don’t know, maybe knock him out and blindfold him or something.” Mike
replied.
“I saw this movie once,” Doug interrupted, “where this woman put some kind of
knockout drops in this guy’s drink and then tied him up and shot him.” We
casually kicked wildly insane and improbable ideas around for the next hour as
we cruised around on the way home.
That night, for first time, I masturbated while thinking about something other
than sex. The next morning after PE I told the guys that I wanted to do it.
“So do I,” Mike said, “My way.”
“Let’s figure out how first,” I said. “Then we’ll pick the method.”
“Okay, lets think some more on it.” Doug’s motion was quickly seconded by Mike
and Bob. “One thing, though,” he added, rinsing the soap from his body. “We’ve
got to keep this all to ourselves. Right?”
We’d been studying word roots and origins in English an hour before, and one
of the words we discussed was ‘testify’. The ancient Roman penalty for perjury
was castration, and men giving testimony in court grabbed their testicles to
acknowledge that fact. “I swear,” I said, grabbing my naked balls. The others
followed suit, and four high school sophomores began to plan a major felony.
I don’t think we were serious, to start with, about castrating Sean. It was
more like a school research project, or in my case, masturbation fodder. It
was only after we got into it that we all realized that it was indeed likely
that we could do it and get away clean.
We concluded that Rotary Park would be the venue. The City had just fertilized
the grass with waste treatment plant sludge and it wasn’t yet considered to be
safe for kids to romp, and the place came alive after dark with mosquitoes.
Sean knew no fear, so a challenge to a fight after dark would be impossible
for him to ignore.
He would have to be quickly silenced and blindfolded, and we would have to be
completely disguised. Banding him or hanging him by his balls would take too
long so we agreed that the winner of the draw would either have to crush his
nuts or cut them from his body. A tourniquet would have to be used should he
be cut, as we would have to leave him tied up for others to discover,
hopefully not until the next day. Most of our ideas came from the popular TV
shows of the day or from the juvenile adventure stories that we’d read, so our
plans obviously weren’t very sophisticated.
I won the draw by picking the longest straw from Doug’s hand, so I had the
honor of wielding the knife. Doug typed a note on one of the schools office
machines calling Sean a chickenshit cocksucker that was afraid of a fair
fight, and if wanted to dispute that fact he should come alone to the park at
nine Tuesday evening. There was a PTA meeting that night, and my Mom, Doug’s
parents, and Sean’s parents were all regular attendees. Mike’s dad drank a lot
and would crash early, and Bob would sneak away from home.
We met in the park at eight and rigged a drop net up in a tree. We all looked
like some kind of comic Ninjas; black sweatshirts and ski masks pulled low
over our faces. Sean showed right on time, looking pissed, and the net caught
him just according to plan. I shot him in the face with a can of spray paint,
and Doug blindfolded him and stuffed an old sweat sock into his mouth while
Mike and Bob and I held him down, and in less than a minute he was tied
spread-eagle to a picnic table.
We had not spoken a word since we began our assault, and we would remain
silent until we were well out of earshot from out victim. I had won the draw
and the right to perform the actual castration, but the other guys were
entitled to a piece of the action. Doug was carrying the knife, and it was he
that cut the crotch from our prisoner’s pants and discarded the nut cup that I
knew he’d be wearing. We’d initially planned on stripping him naked, but
finally realized that it would take extra time from our primary activity. Doug
gingerly pushed Sean’s cock to one side and then slammed his fist into the
boy’s exposed testicles. Sean gave a sudden lurch, and let out a series of
short gurgling sounds as he attempted to catch his breath breathing only
through his nose. Doug wasn’t through though; he finished his performance by
grabbing Sean’s balls and squeezing them and giving the scrotum a half twist.
Mike grabbed the trophies gently and slowly tugged until they were stretched
far out and then held them there while Bob stretched and wrapped a short piece
pf latex tubing tightly around the base of the scrotum, and then Mike and Bob
each gave the captive nuts several hard squeezes and raps.
I took the scrotum carefully into my hand, noting that his nuts were no larger
than my own, and placed the edge of the knife against the soft skin just below
the tourniquet. Sean recoiled at the touch of the knife and began a new series
of contortions, trying his best to free himself from his bonds, and arched his
back and lifted himself clear of the table by his feet and shoulder blades as
I tugged upwards on his balls.
Doug suddenly pointed to his watch and gave me a signal to hurry it up. It was
a good thing he did: I was so hard that in another thirty seconds I would have
blown my wad right into my skivvies. One quick push with the knife and it was
over. I threw the detached scrotum into the brush and we hurried from the
park, leaving Sean to his misery. We removed our ski masks and stuffed then in
our pockets, and I threw the knife into the river and we casually walked back
to where Doug had parked the car. Nobody said much on the way home but I could
see that the other guys were also trying to conceal boners. Later that night I
had what was by far the best orgasm of my young virginal life.
Sean was found early the next morning, and by eight everyone in school seemed
to have heard about it but no one had any details about the extent of his
injuries. News came out that he’s been mutilated, and finally whomever it was
that found him leaked out the scoop that he’d been castrated. City police,
state police, and country sheriffs all questioned everyone that Sean had ever
known, but no one knew anything. One kid told them that he thought Sean was a
bully but didn’t offer any supporting evidence.
I never saw Sean again after the night I nutted him. He never came back to
school and his dad resigned his position and they moved away somewhere, and
Dad was finally appointed plant manager.
I went to college while Mike was busy getting killed in Viet Nam. Doug married
young and moved to the East Coast, made a ton of money, got divorced, bought a
sailboat, and is somewhere or other. Bob succumbed to cancer a year ago.
People ask what I do for a living and I tell them the truth: I’m a drug
dealer. I had my own pharmacy for a while but I work for Safeway now. They
built one of their superstores and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Dad and I were talking a while back, and the subject of The Crime came up. Dad
said that he never liked the Kent kid, and he always thought he was a little
too oily and sneaky and that his dad, the plant manager, was just as bad Dad
said his management style was to get everyone by the balls, so as to speak,
and force his methods on them He also told him that he wanted Sean to be the
best at everything. The kid had came home with a B one time instead of an A,
and the dad had pulled the kid’s pants down and grabbed his son’s balls and
given them a hard squeeze and told him it would be twice as bad next time.
Dad came right out and said he owed a big favor to whomever it was that
castrated the little asshole, because that had resulted in him being promoted
to plant manager.
You’re welcome, Dad.
* * * |
How I became a boy | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | This is the story about a young man who was transformed into a desexed little boy | My name is Shaun and I want to let everybody know how I became a little boy.
When I was about ten years of age I decided that I didn't want to become a
man. As puberty set in I would always shave my body and pretend that I hadn't
started to develop sexually. When I eighteen I decided that I wanted to become
a Peter Pan figureÝand to remain as a ten year old child for the rest of my
life.
My first step was to search the internet for a man who would adopt me and who
would be interested in transforming me into the little person that I really
was. After a few false starts I met a gay couple who expressed a desire to own
and adopt a son. These men both in their mid-forties were deeply interested in
the international leather scene and also were interested in bondage and sexual
activities like fisting.
I decided to meet these guys in a public place and so we met in a leather bar
in San Francisco. As soon as I sawÝJack and MarkÝIÝrealised that I had found
my new family. After a few beers we had dinner at a local restaurant. It was
at the restaurant that I told them thatÝI despately wanted to become a little
boy again. As soon as I mentioned this Jack asked me if I had thought about
becoming desexed. As soon as he mentioned the word "desexed" I became rock
hard and realised that my destiny had arrived.
Three weeks after our first meeting I moved in with my new parents. I was
given a small room at theÝback if the house with a single bed and very little
else. Jack and Mark thenÝsat me down and described what they wanted out of me.
At first I was a bit shocked by what they wanted but decided it would be best
to agree to everything as they were the perfect parents for me.
The men described how they would like me to undergo several fairly major
surgical operations. They presented me with a slave contract that I was
obliged to sign that listed what they intended to do to me. The first thing
was that they wanted all of my body hair permanentlyÝremoved, after this I was
to be fully desexed and all of genitals were to beÝsurgically removed, my pee
hole was also to be relocated between my legs about an inch above my anus. As
I read more of the slave contract it became obvious that further modifications
were also required.ÝOn top of these modifications thay wanted my prostate and
anal sphincter to be fully removed as well as my nipples. This would mean that
IÝwould completely lack bladder and bowel control. They mentioned that young
boys often had trouble with their bowels and had accidents. I would then be
required to have at least one enema every day.
I was then told that I wouldÝhave my voice box altered so that IÝwouldÝthen
have a soft squeeky child-like voice. There would also be some facial cosmetic
surgery, so I would look like a boy in the face, too. I would then be trained
to live the rest of my life as a nine year old and would not be permitted to
ever wear any clothing again.ÝIf all of these procedures were successful my
identity would be legally changed and I would be given the status as a
"sexually immature boy" and after this I would be legally adopted as their
kid. With this new status I was also given a police permit and allowed to be
naked in any part of the city at all times.
As ourÝfamily relationship grewÝI enjoyed doing erands to the local store,
going to the park to kick a ball and even going to restaurants as theirÝnaked
sexless little boy. We would also go hiking and camping and one time they even
took me on an all male cruise. The men would also like to drug me and take me
to sex parties and circuit parties. Five years onÝI am now a contented little
kid who is very happy withÝits life.
Ý * if you liked this story and you want more send me an emailÝ
ÝÝÝÝ
* * * |
The Modern Adjusted Man | STRAIGHT | in a parallel world, similar to our own, but very different in oneimportant respect, a young couple discover the joys of beingdifferent. And the need to conform. | The Modern Adjusted Man
Or
Cut Short
By justoneguy
It has been over four generations since males were left totally intact. After
four generations, what once seemed strange pretty much becomes normal. As a
modern woman, I always thought that I would be very happy and satisfied with
the modern idea of a normal man. It was good enough for my mother; it was good
enough for my grandmother; it was good enough for everybody; so it was good
enough for me.
I plan to bury this document when I complete it, so I have no idea what the
world will be like when and if it is read. Perhaps things will change again.
They say the world was much different 100 years ago. Full of male aggression
and control. Who knows what it will be like in another 100 years. So perhaps I
should begin by explaining what the world I live in is like. Only then will
you fully be able to understand how strange and unique my life experience
truly was.
Almost 100 years ago, society underwent a major upheaval. I’m not a historian,
so I can’t explain how or why it happened like it did. But in the end, women
came to dominate the social system in a way never before known in history. A
collective acknowledgement spread amongst the female population of the day
that the source of most if not all of the world’s serious problems existed
because of the male’s aggressive drive for sex. It was generally believed that
human evolution would eventually readjust the male attitudes, but that would
take thousands and thousands of years. The world and society could not take
that long. Nature needed some assistance.
Many theories and proposals were suggested for correcting this problem, and
all received vigorous debate. Simple castration of males, either chemically or
surgically, was ruled out almost immediately. The males would have to be
castrated before puberty, before the aggressive drives took control of their
bodies and permanently tainted their minds. The main problem then was sperm
production. How would the human race perpetuate itself without a steady supply
of healthy male seed? Sure, technology could preserve frozen seed gleaned from
the current male population, but what if something when wrong or the seed
began to decline in health. There would be no more sperm unless males were
allowed to mature normally—an unthinkable prospect. Besides, with all the
males impotent, wives would get no sexual satisfaction from their husbands.
(Women after all have needs as well, just not needs that lead to dangerous
anti-social behavior.)
It was then that women realized that the sexual drive of a man, which emanated
from his testicles, was not the real source of male aggression. The true
source was his penis and his insatiable desire for the pleasure his organ
gives him. Once this rational was accepted, the solution to the problem was
self-evident. For the past four generations, males have undergone a process
that makes them model citizens in the global community—Adjustment.
Shortly after birth, all males are circumcised. This medical procedure was
once done for hygiene or religious purposes. But in the modern era, it is
preformed solely for the social ramifications. All males (fathers, brothers,
cousins, friends) and all females (mothers, sisters, aunts) must come to
expect and accept the idea of modifying the penis through surgery. Boys are
then allowed to grow up as normal. However, at the age of 12, right before
puberty begins and the testicles begin to cascade the male with sexual
hormones, a further surgery is performed. Every boy is brought to a local
clinic and officially Adjusted, as it is known commonly. Basically, the glans
or head of the penis is amputated. In fact, all of the penis is amputated back
to the circumcision scar. This insures that the male will be left with no
major nerve endings in his reproductive organ. The glans and whatever shaft
was removed back to the circumcision scar is placed in a jar and preserved. It
is given to the family to be kept in a special vault. When the male eventually
dies, the jar is collected and buried with its onetime owner.
The reasons for the Adjustment should be very clear. With the nerve endings of
his penis removed, a male is no longer capable of a sexual orgasm. Since he is
Adjusted prior to puberty, he does not miss the pleasure that, just 100 years
ago, men thought they couldn’t live without. Since they are now incapable of
feeling massive sexual pleasure, men are more reasonable and productive
members of society. The need for constant pleasure or servicing of their
sexual needs is no longer the driving force in their lives. Since their
testicles remain intact, they still feel desire for women and can produce
children. But since pleasure is not their main focus in the pursuit of women,
men rarely cheat on their wives. Women’s sexual needs are fulfilled because a
male is left with at least half, but usually more, of the original length of
his penis. The remainder gets hard, so a man can penetrate his mate, providing
amazing pleasure for her—and a pleasant sensation for him. But now the male is
driven to please his mate during sex, not himself. Most men will say that they
enjoy sex with their partners, but women usually want it more and get more out
of it.
I am told that this current social structure almost completely reverses the
sexual roles of husbands and wives from 100 years ago. Then, women enjoyed
sex, but struggled to fulfill the needs of their husbands, who NEEDED sexual
releases almost constantly. Now, men enjoy sex but are most fulfilled when
they are able to give their wife the maximum pleasure.
Some males are able to fertilize a woman through the dripping of semen through
their penis during intercourse. Since males no longer have orgasms as women
do, the natural ejaculation that used to produce children is rarely possible.
When it is possible, men report a pleasant sensation between their legs, but
it is nothing like the volcano of pleasure that we women experience when we
orgasm. Still, those men who are capable of this mild ejaculation report that
it satisfies them. When a man is not capable of it (about half I believe), the
couple must go to a fertility clinic. There, semen is removed from the male’s
inner body and implanted into his wife. As you can imagine, this process had
the fringe benefit of cutting the rate of unintended pregnancies by over half.
This was the world into which I was born and raised. I had a younger brother
named Simon, so I knew the steps a boy went through to be socialized in our
society. I had seen his penis several times before he was Adjusted. I remember
being curious about it, but mostly because his crotch looked so much different
from my own. When I was 17, Simon turned 12 and went to be Adjusted. When he
came home, we through a big party for him. I brought my new boyfriend, Jared
Tapper. He seemed a little distracted during the whole night, especially when
he met my brother and when my mother read the traditional text explaining the
importance and sacredness of a boy’s Adjustment Day.
Jared was not my first boyfriend. I had gone out with two other guys in high
school. In fact, I had pestered my previous boyfriend into giving me his
virginity only a few weeks before I met Jared. My first sexual experience was
not the catharsis I thought it would be. The boy’s name was Mark Dorsed. I was
so excited as he mounted me. It was the first time I saw a mature Adjusted
male. His erection was about 3 inches long, pasty white, with a rounded end
that looked like a tied off sausage. I noticed the little hole at the bottom
front of Mark’s little hard sausage and realized that it was where he
urinated. I remember thinking, wow, boys are so much different from girls. I
guess that was a strange thought for a woman to have as she is penetrated for
the first time, but I want to be totally honest. As Mark pushed 3 inches into
my body, I began to feel his pelvis pressure my clitoris. He rocked his pelvis
against me, my clit pinned between the hard bone of his sausage and the
tangled grass of his hairy crotch. It felt good, but not as good as my
fingers. I grabbed his butt and began to try to guide his thrusts, to increase
the speed to suit what I had come to expect when masturbating. It felt better,
but Mark just didn’t seem to be in sync with the kind of lovemaking I wanted.
He asked me if I was enjoying it, and I smiled and told him, of course. But
after twenty minutes, I faked my orgasm and let him stop. I was a little
distraught, as if something was wrong with me. I mentioned this to my mother.
She told me not to worry, that most guys don’t know what they are doing the
first time and will improve with practice. But she also told me that if my
boyfriend continued to under-perform, I should buy an extender for him.
Before I got to that point I had met Jared. I dumped Mark for him within a
week. Jared was very up front with me and told me that he didn’t want to be
pressured into sexual activity. I liked him so much that I actually didn’t
mind. I figured that there was time enough to warm Jared up to sex. We dated
for a year. When we graduated from high school, I prepared to go to college.
Jared’s parents had been killed in a car accident when he was 15, so his
financial means were pretty limited. That meant that, while I went off to
college, he would be left behind working as a mechanic. I was pretty upset
about this, but he was positively vexed.
A month before I was to leave for college, he took me to the park. After a
long walk in the sun, I sat on a bench to look at the lake. Jared lowered
himself to his knee and raised the clear sparkling jeweled ring up toward me.
“Will you marry me baby?” he said. I have to admit that I was shocked. In this
day and age, a woman is expected to propose to a man. Of all my friends who
were not married or engaged, all had popped the question to their men. I think
that Jared was a little worried about my shocked response. He lowered his head
a little, and when he looked back up into my eyes, he had the pleading
expression of a puppy worried that he would get into trouble.
I placed my hands on his cheeks, feeling the tiny prickles of his freshly
shaved face. “Yes, baby. Of course I will.” His grin lit me up. A look of
relief flooded over his face. I took his head into my arms and held it close
to my breasts. “I didn’t mean to worry you for that second. But it is so rare
for a girl to be proposed to these days, I was taken a little aback.”
“I know, but I was worried that if you went to college, you would meet someone
else. I had to propose to you now. I didn’t want to take the chance of losing
you,” He said. The feeling of being so wanted and so loved was indescribable.
It was one of the happiest moments of my life. Jared had wanted me to be his
wife so much, he had actually bought a ring and proposed. I’ve never in my
life, before or since, met a man who would do that.
He pulled his head away from my arms and looked at me directly in the eyes.
“Sarah, there is something that you have to know. Now that we are engaged, I
can finally tell you. I know that I haven’t been the most… exciting of your
boyfriends. I know that you’ve wanted more than I felt comfortable giving.”
“Oh no Jared, I don’t feel that way. I love you….”
“I know, but I need to finish Sarah, before I lose my nerve. This is probably
the scariest moment of my life.” My mind was swimming. What was he talking
about? Jared looked to the ground. I could tell this was difficult for him. I
put my hand on his head and massaged him through the thick brown hairs of his
head. “I’m not Adjusted,” he said.
It took me a moment to understand what he had just said. My hand jerked from
his head. It was an involuntary action. He looked up at me with that same look
of fear as when he proposed. In a flash I understood why he had been so
scared—and why he had proposed. He knew that I was brought up by a traditional
family. If I turned him in, he would be immediately Adjusted—something that
was unheard of in an adult. Adjustment is something for little boys. And I
knew why he had proposed to me. He loved me so much, but he also NEEDED me so
much. He had lived a life in shadows, hiding what he was. Now he had found a
woman he loved and his body NEEDED the powerful release that nature demanded.
The young man in front of me suddenly became in my mind a wild animal, driven
by needs I didn’t understand. He was a throw back to 100 years before, when
men dominated the world and were dominated by their own need for pleasure. I
should have been repulsed.
But I wasn’t.
I put my hand back to his face. He placed his trembling hands on my knees. He
had finally admitted his secret. This was his moment of truth. “I love you
Jared,” I said. “I will be your wife and you will me my husband—all of you.” I
knelt down next to him and we hugged each other tightly.
Over the next few weeks, as the wedding preparations began in earnest, Jared
explained how he had come to be the way he was. His parents did not believe in
Adjustment. His father, in fact, had never been adjusted. When Jared was born,
they had him circumcised as prescribed by law. But when he was 12 years old,
his parents used forged documents to modify his medical records. He told me
how difficult it was to conceal from everyone. He could not play sports in
high school for fear of the common showers. He rarely used a urinal for fear
that someone would catch a glimpse of his penis. An underground network of
Unadjusted people and their supporters worked to conceal their status. Most
important were the medical establishments and personal that treated and
recorded the medical needs of individuals. He told me that an unadjusted penis
was so easily spotted that he could only go to specific doctors for our
premarital exam.
I’ll never forget my exam. We drove 50 miles away and visited a small clinic
that seemed to treat mostly homeless people. Jared said that a married couple
that had been friends with his parents ran it. I really felt out of place in
the waiting room. The folks waiting were dressed in rags or dirty old clothes.
Jared and I must have stuck out like a sore thumb. It certainly wasn’t the
type of clinic I had ever gone to. That was the first time I realized how much
life might be different when married to an unadjusted man. When our names were
call, Jared and I parted ways. He went into the men’s side of the clinic; I
went into the women’s. A very friendly older woman took me behind a curtain
and began my exam. I didn’t ask her age, but I would guess that she was in her
fifties.
As she began the examination, I’m sure that she could sense my discomfort. “I
can see that you are not a virgin,” she said. I nodded yes in reply. “You and
Jared? Or someone else?”
“Someone else,” I replied, expecting a lecture.
Instead the woman simply smiled. “Well then, I can tell you that you are in
for quite a pleasant surprise.” She winked at me, and I knew. Her husband was
like Jared, unadjusted. Jared was being examined by a man just like he was.
And this woman knew what was in store for me. I fought the urge to question
her intently. It would not have been proper. And besides, Jared told me I
could never talk about it—even with someone who seemed to know about
unadjusted people or claimed to be one.
We were married a few weeks later in a traditional ceremony. Jared had 5
groomsmen, all friends from high school. As I looked at their crotches in
their tuxedos, I wondered if any of them were unadjusted. I doubt it. I had
known most of them since grade school myself, and even attended most of their
Adjustment Day parties. As I walked down the isle, Jared’s smile blazed
towards me from the altar. I looked at his crotch and then again to the
crotches of his five groomsmen, thinking about how different they must be. And
the loyal friends that were standing by my future husband and were supporting
our decision to marry had no idea that their penises were so different from
the man they were standing with. I wished I could ask them about it. But Jared
had been very firm with me that it could never be talked about with ANYONE. So
I didn’t ask.
The night of our wedding, my parents rented the suite at a local hotel. My
heart was jumping as he unlocked the door and led me inside. I wasn’t a
virgin, but my previous experience had been over a year ago and pretty much
forgettable. I considered myself for all intents and purposes a virgin for my
husband—my unadjusted husband.
Jared and I kissed passionately by the bed. I unbuttoned his shirt and took it
off. Jared’s chest was strongly muscled and hairless, yet much more masculine
than Mark’s had been. I rapped my arms around him and felt his strong
shoulders, then kissed him deeply as I rubbed my hands around his head, down
his chest, to his dime-sized nipples. I could taste his hot breath in my
mouth. I can’t explain it, but the experience was so much different from my
experience with my previous boyfriend. The man who was now my husband seemed
like an animal to me. The feeling of his warm moist breath against my skin
sent shivers down my spine. He wanted something from me, not just FOR me, but
FROM me.
Then Jared took control, and I knew once and for all that this moment would be
COMPLETELY different from my experience with Mark. Jared gently pressured me
onto the bed, and I didn’t resist. He slid my shirt off from my shoulders.
My bra covered my full breasts. He watched me as I reached behind and
unsnapped it. I hesitated for only a moment, then let it fall to the floor. A
deep sigh escaped his lips. I could almost feel the lust radiating from his
body. My old boyfriend had wanted to make love for me; my husband wanted—no,
needed—to make love TO me. His hands moved toward my breast, touching the side
and sliding downward. His palms were so warm, almost burning me with their
desire; my nipples leaped to a full erection. He kneaded my breasts, pinching
the nipples, tickling with his fingertips. My skin began to react to his
touch. He slowly began to move down my stomach in an almost ticklish way, then
back up to my nipple. I felt my eyes wanting to close, let him do his will on
me. I felt like just flopping back on the bed and letting my husband—my man—do
whatever he wanted and needed to do. He reached down to the zipper on my
jeans, taking them off, my panties going with them leaving me bare and open
for his penetration. He tickled my stomach, my thighs, and back up to my
breasts enjoying the feel of the soft tissue underneath the palms of his
hands. He pushed me back gently only onto the soft, cool sheets. I lay on my
back, letting his hands wander over me. I could feel my pussy getting wet with
each second that his skin touched mine. His fingers finally reached a place
between my thighs that only one other man had known. I smiled; what a joke.
Mark hadn’t been a man; he was a trained puppy compared to Jared. This was a
man wanting me, hungering for my body in a way I couldn’t understand. I
pressed against his hand, teasing myself, wanting more.
"You like that?" He said not waiting for an answer. His fingers parted the
lips and entered, playing games with my clitoris, the other hand gently
rubbing my breast, my stomach, my thighs, my hips, then back to my breasts. I
squirmed with a twinge of trepidation—I felt so out of control. But as I heard
Jared moan with lust as he felt the pleasure of a woman for the first time, my
nervousness turned to delight and anticipation.
"Touch me," I sighed. His fingers danced between my legs; my wetness begged to
be satisfied.
"Do you want to come?" He said, his voice shaking, his hand quivering. It was
the first time he asked me what I wanted, but it didn’t feel like weakness.
Mark had quizzed me on my desires like a computer wanting to make sure he did
every duty correctly, so that I would be pleased with me. Jared’s question
burned with desire. It was taking all his strength to hold back from
fulfilling the needs of his masculinity. Perhaps a weaker man would not have
been able to wait any longer, but not my husband.
I could only nod my head, breathless, my eyes closed tightly, enjoying the
sensation.
He withdrew his fingers from my pussy, squeezing first, pulling my orgasm back
a bit. Then I felt his tongue against my excited sex. Instinctively I ground
my hips harder against his mouth, wanting it to make me scream out in joy.
"Make me come," I breathlessly whispered. I was begging for my man to satisfy
me.
"Now, baby, now," he said.
A loud sigh escaped my throat as I shivered and moaned. I rocked my hips up
and down against his tongue, not wanting the sensation to stop. It was the
best orgasm I had ever had. I calmed, and lay still as I opened my eyes.
Jared’s eyes beamed back at me, his smile brightening the dimly lit bridal
suit. I realized that it was the first time my husband had seen a woman
cum—the first time he had given a woman an orgasm. That moment was quite and
achievement for him, given how men were expected to perform in a marriage.
Suddenly I remembered that I too would see for the first time, tonight, a man
have an orgasm.
"You’re beautiful," Jared said, moving up on the bed to kiss me. His lips
reached for mine, pressing hard. His hands wandered over the very parts that
he had explored only a few moments before. I pushed my body up against his,
feeling ever curve and bulge. I wanted him so bad. It was time for me to take
control.
My hands were shaking. I had no idea what to expect. I had seen my little
brother a few times before he was Adjusted, but he was a little boy. This was
a grown man, my husband. My mind drifted back to the woman at the doctor’s
office. I wondered if she had felt the same way with her husband the first
time.
Jared rolled over onto his back. I rubbed my hands over his bare chest and
leaned over to kiss him. I caressed his knee with my hand, rubbing up into his
inner thigh. I could feel his breath shutter as he felt my hand slowly
advancing toward his crotch. He was so excited; it was the first time a woman
had ever touched him so intimately. In a smooth, fluid motion I brought my
hand to the middle of his trousers. I cupped the softness there, and Jared
breathed a hot breath against my cheek. I felt the soft mass between his
legs—his testicles. Then I moved my hand up over the hard pole above. It was
pointed straight up to his navel. I could see the outline of it in his pants.
As my hand passed over it, Jared breath became jagged, a soft moan escaped his
lips. His eyes were closed. He suddenly seemed unmanly to me, whimpering in
pleasure. What was I thinking? As I looked at my husband’s hard body, his
strong chest, broad shoulders, the thin curls of hair that led from his navel
down into the front of his pants. This was a strong, powerful 19-year-old
male—my husband—it was just that his body was so overpowered with anticipation
with what was about to happen. I felt his large hand on my back, rubbing
gently. I realized that I had paused with these thoughts. Before he spoke, I
reached for the front of his trousers.
I unbuttoned the front of his pants, pulling the zipper down along the thick
hard mass underneath. He raised his behind off the bed so I could pull them
down off his muscular legs. I teased the hairs growing on his lower legs on my
way back up to his waist. He was wearing gray boxer briefs. I could see the
outline of his masculine tool stretching against the cotton. It was so much
bigger than Mark’s. It seemed to be double the size I remembered. I gripped
the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulled down, my eyes trailing the
underwear as I pulled it down and off of his feet. When I rose back up to his
waist, I saw him for the first time.
My husband’s crotch was accented with a thick tangled bush of brown sex hair,
the symbol of his maturity and fertility. And growing from that clump of grass
was his mighty penis. I grasped the shaft at the base and held it up to see. I
had of course seen the shaft of a penis before. But this tool was almost
totally alien to me. I measured with my fingers and eyes—my husband’s member
was about 6 inches tall, far out doing my previous boyfriend’s 3 inches. But
the real differences began about 4 inches from the base. I saw a dark brown
circle that went around his shaft, his circumcision scar. And above it, a ring
of soft pink skin, the remnants of his foreskin. And above that, the strangest
body part I had ever seen. His penis was crowned with a flared red knob. It
almost looked like a mushroom, I thought; the cap flared out over the long
thick stem that it topped. I looked at it from all angles, especially the
underside. There I saw the two edges of the flared head arching up toward the
slit at the end and come together where that small slit began. The slit was
dotted with a tear of clear liquid, which I touched with my finger. I trail of
clear fluid followed my finger’ it was like saliva. I brought my hand was
gripping the base up on the shaft and pumped it once, feeling the bumps and
veins in the soft stretched skin.
“Oh Sarah,” Jared moaned, his deep voice ringing in the room. My hand pumped
over his tool, feeling the soft sponge of his helmet head that now looked
almost purple. I felt his fingers find my pussy again, and I let him invade my
wetness with his soft fingers. As I pumped, I felt his fingers dancing inside
me. His upper body was straining to stretch enough to reach my pussy. His
breathing was becoming more erratic. “Baby, please….” He whispered, his voice
betraying his own apprehension. “Will you suck on it?”
His request stunned me. I had never even heard of a woman sucking on a man’s
penis. But hadn’t my husband just finished pleasuring my clit with his tongue?
As I looked at the throbbing helmet of my husband’s erection, I suddenly
realized that he wanted to feel my tongue on it as much as I wanted to feel
his tongue on my clit. The throbbing, plump, purple mushroom head that capped
his long pole was nothing more than a giant clitoris—a clit on a stick.
Looking back, I was so slow; it seems so obvious to me know. But back then the
whole concept of an unadjusted man was so new and bizarre—and I’m not just
taking about the appearance of it. It took my husband’s breathless plea for me
to provide him with pleasure and to convince my mind of exactly what this fat
flared knob meant to my man.
A moment passed as I pondered these ideas. Jared’s hips strained against my
arm and my pumping hand. He whimpered softly as he arched his back and
slightly raised his butt of the sheets. How could I refuse this strong man,
who loved me so much and had just provided me the ultimate pleasure a woman
can feel? How could I refuse to provide the same amazing pleasure to him?
Suddenly, the entire concept of sexual activity as I understood it growing up
seemed too empty, so one sided. My husband needed me to do something for him
that he couldn’t do for himself, something he had dreamed about receiving
since he hit puberty. I lowered my head and kissed the tip of his helmet. A
small string of clear liquid clung to my lips, creating a tiny bridge to the
end of his phallus. Jared’s hips strained upward in an involuntary motion. He
sucked in a deep breath. I stretched my tongue out and relaxed it, letting it
lay against my lower lip, and licked hard against the underside of he penis. I
felt the gentle curves of the underside of his helmet against my tongue.
Jared’s body was shaking. “Oh God, Oh Sarah,” he groaned loudly, exhaling his
deep breath. Encouraged, I took his helmet into my mouth and sucked hard. It
had the faint taste of salt and seemed hot even against the warmth of my
tongue. His mushroom filled my mouth. I found that I could only suck down to
his circumcision scar, but he didn’t seem to mind. I realized that the tissues
in my mouth, the part that was giving Jared so much pleasure, were totally
missing from my old boyfriend Mark, my little brother Simon, every other male
I had ever known. As my mouth bobbed on his cock, my sandpaper tongue racked
the underside of his member. I strained my eyes up at his face. His head was
pointed at me, as if to watch what was happening between his legs, but his
eyes were closed tight, his mouth hanging open breathlessly. The muscles of my
husband’s face where contorted as if in agony, but I knew it was from a
totally different feeling. I was giving him pleasure, so much pleasure. He
needed me so much. He threw his head backward against the bed and arched his
back, stretching his arms out along the sheets as if straining to grasp
something on either side of him. “OH GOD, Sarah,” He moan with his exhale. He
took a deep breath, his strong chest rising. And with his next exhale: “OH
that feels so GOOD.” He was in the same position I had been moments ago. I
never thought I would ever hear a man talk that way, but there he was.
His fingers had long ago forgotten about my pussy, but I didn’t mind. My
crotch was still radiating half-remembered waves of pleasure, and I was so
interested in his responses to my mouth, I hadn’t even realized when his
teasing fingers had stopped. I felt his hands on my head. “I need you, baby. I
want you now.”
I released his penis from my mouth and rolled over on my back. Jared was on
top of me in an instant. He heavy weight of his body pressed me farther into
the soft sheets of the bed. I felt his hot member brush my thigh, and I
reached down to help him. I grasped his shaft with my hand, and he thrust
forward into my fist with a groan. His body was hot and hungry—his cock needed
friction of fulfill its desire, and his body would do almost anything at this
point to feed its hunger. My God, he was so different from Mark’s quiet,
passive thrusting. I tilted the head of his penis toward my opening and
groaned as I felt the flared knob of his prong slip between my slit. Jared
rocked his hips forward, and I felt his plump male mushroom pop past my outer
lip. “Oh God, baby,” Jared gasped over me. I held his arms and felt his
muscles straining to hold him up. His body was totally consumed with desire.
He continued to rock forward, and I whimpered under him. I felt his cock push
past the point my fingers could go, push past the point Mark’s 3” penis stump
had attained. Then I felt my husband’s loose bag of testicles come to rest
against my ass and his hairy pubic bone press against my hairy mound. I had
six inches of my husband inside of me. It felt impossibly deep. But when he
rocked backwards for the first time, pulling his thick rod back toward my
entrance, I suddenly felt completely empty. Not for long. With a loud groaning
breath, my man pushed forward again, and I felt him deep once more. I rapped
my arms around his shoulders, pulling his head down closer to me. He looked
straight into my eyes as he began to thrust faster. I could feel the thick
throbbing knob that capped his pole raking my inner walls with each movement.
He dropped his head to mine and we kissed, breathing hot strained breaths into
each other’s mouths.
Then Jared dropped his weight onto his elbows, and I felt his head come to
rest beside my own. His thrusting now seemed even deeper, and I ran my hands
up and down his sweaty back. Each hump of his pelvis sent a wave of pleasure
through my body. I whimpered and squealed which each thrust. But Jared
literally grunted like a lion. “Ohhh, God, baby, oh god, huh, huh, huh, owhhh,
babe, huh.”
I reached and arm down to his butt and felt it flex and tighten with each
thrust. His body was moving on top of me like a freight train. It was like he
couldn’t thrust fast enough; the strokes became shorter and shorter until his
pelvis almost never left mine. He grunted into my ear unintelligible
syllables. His body had become a like a wild beast, hungry for ever rising
pleasure. His mind was drowning in it, every muscle in his body tightening
involuntarily. I barely felt his testicles against me now, and when I did,
they seemed tighter and harder than before.
Jared took in a deep breath and held it. Then suddenly: “Oh god babbbbyyy.” He
thrust like a mad man, driven by the same urge that made me grind my clit up
against his pelvis. He humped hard, then abruptly stopped at the end of a
mighty, deep thrust. I felt myself being filled then, a geyser had erupted
inside of my. My man was filling me with seed. My hands felt his back rising
and falling in the most labored breathing I had ever seen from a man. Jared
had gone from a humping, grunting beast to a thoroughly exhausted young human
male. He raised his head up to look at me, and I saw the pleasure drain from
his eyes like the sweat dropping from his face. His mind had gone to a special
place that only and orgasming human can go. And it had now returned. He kissed
me deeply; his hard thick cock still buried deep inside my body, still
throbbing and pumping but with less power. “I love you baby,” he said.
I had not orgasmed during our first intercourse. Perhaps I was too focused on
how different making love to an unadjusted man was from my earlier experiences
with Mark. But I wasn’t worried about it. Over our honeymoon, Jared and I made
love every night, and sometimes during the day. His need for my body and my
need for his was insatiable. And by the third time we made love, I was
orgasming strongly. Jared’s desire for his own pleasure in no way diminished
his desire to provide me with pleasure. By the time our honeymoon was over, I
think we had tried all the major positions at least once.
When we got back from out honeymoon, my mother presented me with an extra
newlywed gift. I opened the box to find a pink penis extender. It was about 3
inches long and was featureless. “If Jared has any trouble staying inside of
you, this little baby will be a life saver,” she said. I smiled and thanked
her. But I knew that my man never had any trouble staying inside me.
* * *
Jared and I were as careful as we could be regarding pregnancy. It wasn’t
easy. Jared’s sexual appetite was ravenous. At first I thought his
supercharged needs were a release after his teenaged years of forced celibacy.
After all, I had seen first hand (many, many times) the amazing pleasure that
sexual released seemed to give him. As a woman, I could only imagine that the
pleasure that erupted from his loins was at least as satisfying as my own
feminine orgasm. So I tried to understand. But I soon realized that his
desires were not based on the release of a long suppressed urge, but were
rather the natural state of his body and soul. His entire being had an
insatiable need to pump semen into my body. His mind and body thought that the
need was for the pleasure he so obviously received from sex, but as a woman, I
knew that in reality my husband was simply succumbing to nature’s command to
fill my body with fertile seed as often as possible. And, to my surprise, I
didn’t mind. As a modern woman, I would have expected that having a husband
make sexual demands would infuriate me. After all, it was my place to request
sexual attention. But Jared’s desires forced me into the position of
fulfilling his needs as often as I could. When I didn’t want to have sex, I
would often suckle his flared helmet until he released. But often, I wanted
his long virile tool inside of me as much as he wanted it to be inside me.
Despite all our precautions, I became pregnant after four months of marriage.
We went to the same clinic where we had been examined before our marriage.
After my general check up, the doctor asked Jared to join us in the exam room.
He was an older gentleman, in his mid-fifties just like his wife, I suspected.
When Jared came into the room, he had a scared look on his face. I realized
that my pregnancy was as new and scary for him as it was for me. To my
surprise, however, the doctor did not want to talk about the baby we were now
expecting. Instead, he told Jared that he must now be extra careful regarding
his special circumstances (which is the only term the doctor ever used for my
husband’s lack of Adjustment.) The doctor had already forged records showing
that we had visited him for fertility services a month before. This would
explain how I was able to get pregnant in the first place. However, we should
both be careful of accidents in the future. If we had too many children too
fast, certain people might begin to suspect that we were not really planning
our family. As we drove home, I realized that very few women in the world had
experienced what I had experienced. My child was conceived in my own bedroom,
during a random act of love between my husband and me. Suddenly, going to a
fertility clinic to have a child seemed like a dirty act.
At first I thought that my pregnancy would lessen Jared’s desire for me. But I
was wrong. We continued to make love during the early months, until the size
of my stomach made positions difficult. After that, I made sure to suckle my
husband’s hard prong every few nights, to alleviate the pressure for release
in his genitals. By that time I had become an expert in pleasuring my man
orally. The girth of his organ, which felt like a hard hot banana in my hand,
often made my jaw hurt. But I took pride in pleasuring him. I often wondered
what it was like for the other wives—to never feel the need to satisfy their
husbands in any way. Their husbands didn’t demand anything of them. If their
wives wanted sex, they provided it. But they didn’t get anything out of the
experience themselves, other than the pride that comes from satisfying a
partner. I now understood the pride that an adjusted man must feel when his
wife squirms in orgasm because of his mouth on her clit. It was the same pride
I felt when Jared squirmed and tensed under the pleasure of my lips on his
mushroom knob. Perhaps, I started to think to myself, I am in some way an
adjusted woman.
After several weeks of orally pleasing Jared, my jaw became so tired and sore
that I told him I would have to slow down—take a break. He totally understood.
He confided in me that he was always torn by his desire to have me physically
and his sympathy for the condition of my pregnancy. But that he also didn’t
want to stop me from remaining sexually active during the pregnancy if I
wanted to. Now that I was expressing discomfort with remaining physical for
the last months before delivery, he totally understood. “But what are you
going to do about. . . you’re needs?” I asked him.
“No big deal. I’ll just jerk it.”
I laughed, “What?”
That was when he told me about how he masturbated. Perhaps I was totally
naďve, but I had never really thought about how or whether an unadjusted guy
pleasured himself. Sure, women masturbated all the time, especially before
marriage. It was almost expected, although little discussed even among women.
But guy’s masturbating? What would be the point, since they gained no real
pleasure during sex? But an unadjusted male, he would need the same release,
especially in his early life, just as women needed.
“You guys—unadjusted guys—masturbate too?” I said.
“Sure,” he said. “It’s no big deal. My father caught me when I was 13 or so.
He gave me a big speech about being very careful to never get caught by
anyone—since it would be obvious that I was unadjusted. But he made me feel
good about it—I mean he made me feel like it was a normal thing to do. I used
to jerk it practically every day until we were married.”
“How do you do it?” I asked. Surely a male wouldn’t masturbate like a woman.
He was so shy about the whole thing, like an embarrassed little boy. He told
me he did it with his hand. Just like when I used my hand to get him off. I
wanted him to show me. But he just blushed and shook his head. “Come on,” I
said. “You said yourself that it was a normal thing for an unadjusted guy to
do. I want to know how you do it. To experience it with you. It would make me
feel like a failure as a wife for you to just go into the bathroom every night
and service yourself.”
And finally he relented. I watched as my 20-year-old husband undressed and lay
back on the bed. With one hand he manipulated his soft sausage; with the other
he gently juggled his loose balls. Before long, his organ was as long and
rigid as it got in my mouth or pussy. And he stroked it, his large hand and
fingers wrapped around his pole. I watched him jerk on his organ, his chest
rising with each breath that came faster than the one before. His muscled
twitched and flexed; his legs and toes seemed to squirm around on the bed
involuntarily. His excitement grew and so did the speed of his hand. His eyes
were closed, and now his face began to tense and strain. It was so amazing,
watching from the sidelines as my husband experienced the amazing pleasure of
sexual stimulation. His strong hips began to rock back and forth on the
sheets, and his large balls grew closer to his body in their tight sack. His
organ seeming like a long hard mighty beast that his hand and body were
struggling to control. And after only ten minutes or so, his body tensed and
froze—his behind flexed and raised slightly off the bed, his back arched in a
strain of pleasure. Jared made only a few deep grunts as he came, his fist
gripping his throbbing organ tightly. I watched as six powerful squirts of
warm white fluid erupted from the purple helmet of his manhood, arched in the
air, and splattered with soft thuds on his straining chest. And then it was
over, he relaxed his grip and rested on the bed, breathing heavily, eyes
closed. I was amazed. It was so strange seeing his body reacting the way it
reacted with me—but with me being remote and uninvolved. I thought about the
powerful jets of seed that his body pumped from his throbbing organ—that was
the same thing that happened inside of me every night we made love.
We showered together that night, and I washed the seed from his stomach and
chest, using my fingernails to scratched the spunk from his thick crop of
pubic hair. For the next weeks, as the date of my delivery drew nearer, Jared
masturbated himself several times a week. But I didn’t let him do it alone. I
would often lie next to him on the bed, my breasts pressing against him, my
hands massaging the muscles of his chest and thighs as he pleasured himself.
Often I would replace his hand with my own, when he was close enough that I
could finish him without my wrist getting tired. And every once in a while, I
would surprise him by finishing him with my mouth. But when he had to be
content with his hand, he never complained. The whole experience brought me
closer to him. I felt like I was completely intimate with him. He was my
husband and I was his wife.
And in the early part of the year, our son was born. We named him Christopher
and had him circumcised when he was a week old. Jared was so excited on the
way home from the hospital. He had put the car seat in our car a month
earlier. And the care he took in studying the safety instructions on the seat,
baby bed, high chair, anything that little Christopher would around filled me
with a loving pride in my husband. He wasn’t just going to be a great
lover—but a great father.
But I was very sore from the delivery. It took my body quite some time to
recover from the pregnancy. We took it slow. After all, in the last few months
of the pregnancy, we had gotten accustomed to new sexual outlets. Jared
masturbated whenever he felt like it; sometimes I helped him; sometimes I
sucked him to orgasm. After a few months, he began to lick my pussy again. But
it wasn’t until we vacationed with a group of old friends from high school
that we made love completely.
The trip to the coast with our old high school friends was a turning point in
our lives. Most of the people had been in our wedding. And now we were going
to recapture our youth with a trip to a small cabin on the beach. There were
four couples total: Jason and Susan, Mike and Heather, Drew and Kate, and
Jared and me. The cabin was divided into four bedrooms with a large central
room that served as den and kitchen. So each couple had their privacy. Jason
and Susan had also just had a baby boy, so we had a lot to talk about—although
the babies were both left in the care of their grandmothers back home.
On the first day of the trip, the men all went out to fish, and the women
stayed at the house to settle in and catch up. Heather had brought several
bottles of wine, and before long we girls began our old high school ritual of
drinking wine and gossiping and giggling. And our conversation quickly turned
to childbirth and raising kids.
“Jason is such a wimp. He wouldn’t even change little Joey’s diapers. I had to
put my foot down. I told him no more video games or nights with the boys until
he started pulling his weight,” Susan complained with a laugh. All of my
female friends seemed to take delight in ordering their husbands about.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “Jared has been pretty good about handling the mechanical
stuff—building the baby bed and all that. But he kinda drew the line at
diapers and feedings. It got so bad I had to stop blowing…” I caught myself.
“…stop letting him blow me off. I mean, I had to make sure knew who was boss.”
I shook my head, as if the wine were getting to me. I hoped it would smooth
out my verbal miscue.
The women just kept talking. But I know now that the wine was getting to me,
although I didn’t really realize it at the time. I was so relaxed and happy to
be among my old friends and relieved of the discomforts of pregnancy and baby
care that I didn’t realize how the alcohol was affecting me.
The other woman laughed and compared notes on the trials and tribulations of
marriage and motherhood. “And I tell you, after little Joey was born, I had to
get Jason a new extender. This was one of those ‘full length’ extenders, that
role of his stick, making the whole thing thicker. Jason’s stick felt so thin
to me the first time he pleasured me after the baby that I didn’t even know
for sure he was inside.”
“Did it work? I’ve never tried one of those full length extenders,” Heather
said.
“It was ok,” Susan shrugged. “But I’ve been thinking of having Jason use a
dildo on me instead anyway. It kind of irritates me when he mounts me and
humps on top of me. I mean, his body feels so heavy. And it’s not like he’s
overweight or anything. Gosh, when we are middle-aged, I can’t image us still
doing it that way. But his stick is so short that it makes most other
positions impossible.”
“Don’t you think it would hurt Jason’s feelings if you asked him to use a
dildo rather than his stick? I mean, you’re pretty much admitting that he
can’t please you,” I asked.
Susan just laughed. “Oh, it’s not like it is that much different from an
extender. The full-length extender I’ve been making him use pretty much feels
like a dildo anyway. The only difference is his body bearing down on me as he
humps.” She drained her class of wine. “Sometimes I wonder why they don’t go
ahead and clip the whole stick from men.”
“Really?” Kate said. She had only been marred a few months. And Kate had
always been a little quiet about sexual matters, but apparently the wine was
getting to her as well. “I’ve never had any trouble feeling Drew’s stick.
Sometimes I don’t even ask him to use the extender you guys gave me at my
shower. His always fills me up.”
I gulped down a mouthful of wine and refilled my glass. What Kate said had
shocked me. From what I knew of how Jared’s unadjusted organ felt, I found it
shocking that a clipped penis could fill a woman—at least in terms of length.
“Really? How long is Drew’s?”
Kate blushed and laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, it’s about 6” long.”
Wow, I thought. Kate’s husband Drew had a penis that was as long as my
husband’s—even though his organ was clipped and my husband was whole. How long
would it have been if it hadn’t been clipped of when he was a boy? 7 inches? 8
inches? “Wow,” I said. “Have you ever wondered how long his would be if he
hadn’t been adjusted?”
My comment hit the conversation with a loud THUD.
“Oh my god, Sarah,” Susan said. “I can’t believe you would even wonder such a
thing. You’ve got a baby boy now. When I first saw little Joey’s unclipped
little thing, I thought it was so disgusting. Why couldn’t they have gone
ahead and clipped the cap off when he was circumcised? I’ll never understand
it. I can’t image what a full grown, man-sized cap would look like. Probably a
disgusting fat bulb or something.”
I laughed quietly to myself, and Susan heard. “What’s wrong with you, Sarah?”
I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. “I guess the wine is getting to me,” I
said. I tried to laugh off the comment, but I knew that the others were a
little uncomfortable.
Kate broke the awkwardness with a question. “I’ve never even seen an
unadjusted stick. What does it look like?”
“Don’t let her talk make you curious about such disgusting things,” Susan
said, gesturing in my direction. “You’ll have a son before too long, and
you’ll see the nasty little tip for yourself. Trust me, you’ll look forward to
his Adjustment Party just as much as I’m ready for little Joey’s.”
I don’t know why I didn’t stop then. Every day for the last 13 years I’ve
replayed the conversation in my head and thought about how things would have
been different if I had just shut my mouth. But I didn’t. Susan’s in your face
attitude had always rubbed me the wrong way. And, I think, deep down, I took
her comments as an assault on my husband’s manhood. I should have shut up. But
I didn’t. “But what about what little Joey wants? Or my little Christopher? We
might think their little tips are disgusting, but what about what they will
think of them? We know how good it feels to have sex—at least with a husband
who performs adequately,” I said, with a glare at Susan. “Why should our
sons—or our husbands for that matter—be denied the pleasure that we take for
granted? Just because society says that the male pleasure-desire is dangerous?
That’s crazy.”
The others were flabbergasted. By that time my mind was swimming with wine and
indignation. I thought Heather was going to hyperventilate. Susan’s face was
read—with anger I think. To her, my comments weren’t just silly or crazy, they
were deviant. “Sarah, I’ve never heard anything so disgusting. My god. And how
dare you use my own son as an example. Joey would never want to keep such a
disgusting bit of flesh! Why, he’d be deformed.”
Heather then spoke, perhaps to calm the tension. “Well, I’ve seen those new
studies that show that men aren’t even physically capable of sexual pleasure.
That their brains aren’t wired that way. The most leaving them unadjusted
would do is illuminate the extender industry. But I don’t think that Mike
would rather be normal like ever other guy than have a bit extra flesh that
doesn’t even change the feelings he has during sex anyway.”
“Ha,” I said, spontaneously. I was drunk by then. I didn’t know what I was
saying, how I sounded.
But Susan’s dagger eyes directed toward me at that point were a clear window
into her attitude.
Kate, who was never very good at reading situations, just kept chatting as if
there were no tension. “Well, Drew seems to get some pleasure from sex. He
says that his stick feels so warm inside of me.”
“But it is not pleasure like we feel Kate. They can’t even feel that, adjusted
or no,” Heather said.
“Oh, I’ve had enough of this,” Susan said. She stood up and drained her glass.
“I’m going to take a shower. This conversation has made me feel dirty.”
The other women sat in silence for a moment. But one by one we retired to our
rooms to get ready for our husbands to return. We all did our best to patch
things up during the rest of the vacation. Susan and I never really apologized
for our comments—in fact, the topic was never brought up again. But we put
smiles on our faces, if for our men’s sake if not for our own.
But something had changed. And something about my attitudes had set Susan to
thinking. I have only been able to piece together what must have happened
later. Susan must have been very offended—and suspicious. No one ever talks
the way I did that afternoon. Her radar was up. Did she talk to her husband
Jason about the conversation? Did she ask him about Jared? Did he tell her
that he had never seen him naked at they locker room or seen him use a urinal?
Were their rumors about Jared floating around amongst his male friends from
high school that I never knew about? I’ll never know. But my comments sent the
ball rolling in people’s minds. And the Center for Male Decency was contacted.
I don’t know where they got their evidence. Were their mistakes in Jared’s
forged medical records concerning his adjustment or my pregnancy? Did they bug
our house? Did they interview childhood friends and turn up some information?
I don’t know, and I’ll never know. All I know is what happened on that fateful
day only four months after our vacation.
One day there was a knock at the door. It was early morning, but I was already
awake and dressed. I was going to work early that morning. And besides, little
Christopher had a lot of trouble sleeping that night, so I awake earlier than
usual. Jared was still in bed. When the doorbell rang, I was putting my
earrings in. I went to the door without a second thought. It was probably the
mailman or something. But it wasn’t. When I opened the door, four strong men
and two women were standing on our porch. They were well dressed professional
looking people. The men wore black suits, like the detectives on TV dramas.
The two women were obviously of different ages. One was an older woman, in her
mid forties. Her blond hair was done up in a tight bun at the top of her head.
She wore small wire-rimmed glasses. In her right hand she carried a black
briefcase. The other woman was younger, perhaps only a few years older than I
was. Her dark hair was long about her shoulders. But both women were
professionals. They wore navy blue pants suits. And they had badges.
“Miss, we are from the Center for Male Decency,” the older female officer
said. “We have a warrant to physically search your husband.”
“Jared!” I cried, dropping my earring onto the carpet. But before I could turn
toward the bedroom to warn my sleeping husband, one of the big men had his
arms around me and a hand over my mouth. I could hear little Jared crying down
the hall in his crib. The female officer sent the one of the men to take care
of the baby, and the other officers entered the house. They made a beeline to
the bedroom. They obviously knew the floor plan of our home. I was dragged
along by the big man. And when we entered the bedroom, I saw Jared there,
still asleep on the bed, the covers covering his body, his hair tangled, his
face peaceful. The two men who remained with the group surrounded the bed, one
on each side. The third man still held me, quiet and helpless, though I
struggled with all my strength. The two women stood at the foot of the bed.
“Take him,” the chief woman said. And the two large men reached out for my
husband.
I’m not sure if he had, in his sleeping mind, heard my earlier cry, or if some
sense warned him of danger, but my husband opened his eyes the moment the two
men reached for him. “Whaa,” he said, his voice rough with deep sleep. He made
a single jerking motion of defense before the two men fell on him. Their
strong hands gripped the bare skin of my husband’s arms. Jared struggled.
“What the fuck,” he cried. The two men put their weight down on him. My
husband was not a wimpy man, far from it. But he was a lean 19-year-old man.
The two brutes that invaded our home that day were strong men, trained to
subdue criminals. They held him fast to the bed. Jared’s eyes were bewildered.
His struggles seemed to lessen. Then his eyes focused on me, held helpless on
the other side of the room by another man. And my husband’s body jerked in a
spasm of raged defiance. But it only took a few minutes for his body to tire
under the immovable pressure of the two buttes.
“Look, look,” Jared panted, his voice strained. “Look, take all the money we
have. My wallet is on the nightstand. Just let my wife go, please.”
“We are not interested in your money Jared,” the chief woman said, her voice
cold and calm. “My I call you Jared?” She asked the question as if my husband
was in a position to refuse. “I am Sargent Striver of the Center for Male
Decency.” She flashed her blue and silver badge.
Jared’s eyes became saucers of fear. He struggled under the grip of the two
men once again. The light in his eyes told me his mind was hot with fear and
rage, but his body was exhausted. The men had no trouble keeping him on the
bed.
The female officer, Sargent Striver, was not fazed by his defiance. “I can
assure you Jared, your struggles will not prevent us from serving this
warrant.” She produced a blue piece of paper, folded over many times, and
unfolded it for our benefit. It was covered with small print and bore three
large flowing signatures. “It mandates a physical exam of your genitals. And
the appropriate correction, if it is necessary. Men, secure him to the bed.”
With military efficiency, the two men tied Jared’s hands to the posts at the
head of our bed. He struggled of course, but it did no good. With his arms
secure, the men pulled the sheet back from his body. Jared was sleeping in his
gray boxer briefs. His naked chest rose and fell rapidly as his body fault for
breath as he struggled. As the men attempted to secure his legs, he kicked
with all the ferocity that was left in his exhausted body. One of the men
grabbed Jared’s upper thighs and literally jumped on top of him, putting all
of his weight on my husband’s upper legs. The other man grabbed Jared’s left
leg and tied it swiftly and tightly to one of the foot posts. Jared continued
to struggle, and I saw the big man on top of his legs shoot an elbow into the
soft budge of my husband’s gray cotton clad crotch. The muscles of Jared’s
chest and neck clenched as his face strained in the pain that must have
radiated from his injured male orbs like a flash of lighting from his groin to
his mind. He didn’t struggle as his second leg was secured to the bed. The big
man rose off the bed and straightened the coat of his black suit. Jared was
helpless.
The older woman nodded to the men—a job well done. She placed her briefcase on
the chest at the foot of our bed and opened it. She produced a pair of small
silver scissors. The thin blades gleamed in the morning sunlight that streamed
in through the bedroom windows. She handed the scissors to the younger woman.
“Cynthia, here begins your first lesson. The subject is subdued. The two
agents remain in case he should somehow brake free of the restraints. The
third agent will continue to restrain the wife. The area has been secured, and
we are ready to proceed. First we must physically examine the subject. Remove
his underwear please.”
The younger woman, Cynthia, took the scissors. He hand was not as steady as
the older woman’s was—you could tell she was a little nervous. But she was
still amazingly calm and professional. She walked in three long strides to the
bedside.
“Please, don’t,” Jared said. His voice was weary, tired, exhausted.
Cynthia ignored him. She reached out and pinched a bit of the gray boxer
briefs at the left leg. I saw her finger tips brush the fine hairs of Jared’s
upper thigh. The strong muscle flinched under her touch. Then, she positioned
the scissors and began to cut the thin tight fabric up to the waistband. Then,
leaning further over the bed, she made another cut over his left leg.
“Now, remove the clothing,” the Sargent said.
Cynthia gripped the center of his waistband and pulled the fabric free,
exposing the manhood of my husband to the cool air of the room. Jared’s
manhood was soft and loose. The male orbs hung down heavy and loose between
his outstretched legs. His soft dick hung like heavy sausage, the plum pink
mushroom shaped head resting slightly to the right, the tip just touching his
thigh. The sensitive cap of his male sausage just sat there, convicting him,
for all in the room to see. The two men who stood at the foot of the bed
grunted in disapproval as they saw my husband’s crotch exposed. One looked at
his watch. The other fixed his cuff.
“As you can see Cynthia, the subject is obviously unadjusted.”
The younger woman nodded in agreement. No further explanation was needed, for
the two women, Jared, or myself. Jared’s face was pale white. I stared at him,
but he would not look toward me.
The Sargent reached into her open briefcase and began to work. “Since this is
your first field case, Cynthia, I think it is best if you get some on the job
training. I will walk you through the entire process. You will find that it is
only slightly different from the standard youth adjustment.”
The Sargent produced from her briefcase a large plastic tube, perhaps nine
inches in length. One end was open, but the other was capped with a thin black
ring. I control pad was attached to the device at the closed end by a thick
black wire. The device reminded me of those pump devices that some sex stores
sale for women whose husband’s sticks will not stay hard. The Sargent handed
the device to Cynthia, who sat it down on the bed. I saw the tube roll over
once on the white sheets and come to rest against Jared’s leg. His body
flinched at the touch of it. But his eyes didn’t move. He stared at the
Sargent, his expression on of pleading disbelief.
Then the Sargent removed a small container. It looked like a small makeup
bottle. She unscrewed the cap and handed it to Cynthia. “First, apply the
cream. This cream has special properties. It establishes an erection
regardless of the desires of the subject. In the case of a male of this age,
it is probably unnecessary. However, since it is your first time, I think it
best if we go by the book. It can be disturbing the first time you touch an
unadjusted man’s organ. But regardless of our personal feelings, we have a job
to do. Apply the cream Cynthia.”
The younger woman pulled the rubber glove over her right hand and scooped a
bit of the pinkish white cream from the container. Then she reached out for
Jared’s soft and lazy male tube. She almost seemed tentative to touch it, as
if Jared’s penis was a snake that could somehow bite her. She dabbed a bit of
the cream onto the helmet head of his sausage and began to smear it with her
fingers. She applied more and more, and Jared’s sleeping organ responded.
First his manhood just twitched and rolled to the right, off his thigh and
coming to rest over his handing balls. It seemed to have a mind of its own, I
thought. And I remember thinking back to the times when Jared had ravaged me
on that very bed. It did have a mind of its own. And now it was betraying its
owner. Cynthia seemed to become more comfortable with the feel of my husband’s
unadjusted tool. I remember feeling so angry at the sight of another woman
with her hand on my man’s cock. It was mine! I am the only one to give him
pleasure. And then it hit me—Jared wasn’t supposed to feel pleasure, at least
in the eyes of these invading agents. There was no jealousy or desire in
them—they were repulsed by my man’s unaltered manhood.
For the first time, I noticed the gold wedding band on Cynthia’s finger. She
was married, to a man who was no doubt adjusted. Jared’s body, his manhood,
must have seemed so foreign to her—so animal-like. Untamed, uncivilized. As
Cynthia kneaded and tugged on Jared’s spongy male sausage and felt it grow
more firm with each pass of her hand, she was feeling the bulb of a man’s
organ for the first time. She was feeling the curves and ridges of my
husband’s sensitive male mushroom with a virgin hand. I closed my eyes and
felt warm tears roll down my cheeks. The memory of my own tentative first
encounter with my husbands throbbing and demanding sex rushed back into my
mind. I felt my tears pool against the rough hand of the big male agent that
covered my mouth.
When I opened my eyes, Jared’s male stalk was fully erect and straining.
Cynthia gave his organ a few extra strokes, rubbing a last layer of white/pink
cream into the thin, tight, but amazingly soft skin of his rigid pole. I
looked at Jared’s face. His eyes still avoided me as he stared at Cynthia and
her hand. His face betrayed no pleasure, but his chest rose and fell as his
breathing increased. Jared’s face was pale, his brow dotted with sweat, as
Cynthia’s hand rubbed the most the sensitized tip of his male spear.
And then Cynthia released his dick. For a moment, Jared’s organ stood up proud
and tall, 6 inches into the sunlit morning, thick and ready. And then it
flopped onto his washboard belly with a smack. I could see that the thick cap
of his organ reached his belly button as it lay over his thick curly bush of
pubes. The tears came again. We were both about to lose his manhood.
And then the Sargent passed Cynthia the device. Cynthia held the tub for a
moment. I could now tell that the open end of the clear tube was ringed with
what appeared to be a clear plastic cushion, perhaps some sort of sealer. The
Sargent talked Cynthia through the process. “When I give the word, slide the
device over his organ and position the clipper.” Cynthia seemed to take a
moment to check the wire and the control pad. She was nothing if not
professional. The Sargent now addressed Jared directly. “Jared, let me assure
you that the device is relatively painless. It is based on a laser cutting
technique that is so powerful that the process is over in less than a half a
second. While you will feel nothing at first, expect a little soreness for the
next few days. But after that, you should be back on your feet in no time.”
Jared just stared at her. He didn’t say a word. A bead of sweat dripped down
the side of his face and into the slight stubble that had grown overnight.
“Ready, Sargent,” Cynthia said. And the Sargent nodded. Cynthia gripped the
thick base of my husband’s male tool and held his organ up, rigid and proud in
the air. With her other hand, she positioned the device. She rested the clear
cushion that surrounded the opening against my husbands red, throbbing male
bulb and pressed down. It was a tight fit, and I could see the cushion rubbing
Jared’s wide mushroom as Cynthia twisted the cylinder. Jared’s face tensed,
and his body arched. His legs and arms spasmed in an attempt to free himself,
to save the pleasure of his life. And at that moment, the cylinder popped over
his mushroom helmet, and the soft clear cushion slid slowly and tightly down
the thick rigid pole that defined his sex. “Uuuunnnnnaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh,” Jared
groaned, a cry I had heard so many times and instantly recognized. His back
arched and his butt tensed against the soft bed sheets. And a heartbeat later,
a thick rope of white male seed shot against the plastic tube with a THUMP.
And a moment later, another, stronger glob of sperm splattered into the tube.
And then another, and another. Jared’s face relaxed, and he opened his eyes.
“Nnnuuuuhhhhhhh,” he exhaled as the tension left his body. He filled the
clear, unmanning tube with the last load of seed he ever shot in pleasure. And
his weary read yes glanced at me and locked onto my eyes. “Sarah,” he
whispered, a bead of sweet rolling down his cheek—or was it a tear?
“Ignore his weakness, Cynthia,” the Sargent said, her voice as cold and stone.
“Position the clipper.”
Cynthia now gripped the black cap on the closed end of the tube. The cylinder
was now firmly pressed over my husband’s organ. The clear cushion was ringed
tightly around the base of Jared’s stalk, pressing the curls of his pubes
against his skin. Cynthia pulled the black cap down along the side of the
tube. It ran on a small track along the side, and I could see the black ring
of the mechanism move down the inside the tube along with her hand. Jared’s
penis had never looked so long, so large, so hard as it did inside that tube.
And the clear tube, although splattered with the thick white and clear fluid
of his seed, allowed Cynthia to judge the placement of the black ring. She
moved the device until the cruel black ring was positioned right at the scare
where my husband was circumcised only days after his birth. The rigid flesh
above that scare, the pink band of sensitive skin and the throbbing mushroom
cap, had been with him since his birth. Cynthia double-checked the placement
of the device, and then released her grip on the cylinder. It stood up
straight, Jared’s organ clearly visible within it, up from between my
husband’s straining legs.
His eyes were on me, blood shot, pleading. I thought of all the times his eyes
had looked into mine as the powerful unstoppable rush of pleasure had surged
from the mushroom head of his penis, buried deep inside my warm body, to the
overwhelm the pleasure centers of his brain. Cynthia gripped the control pad
of the device, and the thick black cord that attached to the cylinder swayed
in the air. Jared’s eye darted back to the Sargent. “Ppllease! You don’t
understand. Please, don’t hurt my dick. Please, you don’t understand. I need
it. It feels so good.”
The Sargent’s stony face was unmoved. He looked to the young woman, not much
older than me. She stared down at him, a look of pity mixed with disgust.
“Please,” Jared said, his voice cracking under the strain. “Please, I need the
feeling. Please don’t clip it off.”
“Now!” the Sargent ordered.
“Sarah!” Jared squeaked, his eyes focusing on me, pleading—pleading for the
pleasure I and my body delivered to him and his.
Cynthia hit the switch.
FLIISSHHHHHHHssssszzzzzzzzzzz! The cylinder flashed a bright red spark that
was replaced with a swirl of black smoke. The low sizzle of the device echoed
in the room. Jared’s strong masculine body broke into a cold sweat. His eyes
tentatively gazed on the smoke filled tube that encased his penis. “Huhhh,
huhhhh, huhhhh,” the sound of his breath slowly overpowered the waning sizzle.
The strong firm muscles of his chest and abs seemed to expand and deflate with
his breath. He didn’t seem to be in any pain, but the look on his face
revealed his masculine terror.
Cynthia dropped the control pad onto the bed and reached for the cylinder. She
lifted if off of Jared’s pole slowly. The tight cushion popped past the end of
his dick sooner than I expected, and Jared’s still erect member dropped back
on his bed of curly sex hair, now damp with sweat and spunk. But it didn’t
come close to reaching his navel. Smoke wafted from the open end of the
cylinder, and Cynthia shook it slightly. And from the open end fell the
severed mushroom head of Jared’s might penis. If dropped onto Jared’s hard abs
with a SMACK of flesh on flesh. He stared at what was once the most sensitive
flesh on his body—a soft, spongy, pink spearhead of manhood that a slight
touch of my fingers would send his body a wave of pleasure. Now a severed and
useless piece of flesh on his stomach—detached from the stalk of manhood it
once capped. “Huhhhh, huuuhhh, huuhhhh, oh goddd,” he said, his voice a deep
masculine whisper. “God, it’s gone; she cut it off. God, its gone; the head of
my dick, oh god.” His head lay back on the bed, shaking slowly from side to
side, as if in a delirious dream.
The Sargent reached once more into her briefcase and handed Cynthia a small
jar and a squirt bottle. Cynthia picked up the severed head of Jared’s penis
by its frenulum, using only her thumb and forefinger. She was so tentative, as
if she were picking up someone else’s dirty underwear. But it was the head of
my husband’s cock. She was pinching the sensitive flesh that I once sucked
while my husband squirmed and moaned on our bed. She dropped the glans into
the jar and squirted the solution in the bottle in until the jar was
completely filled. Then she screwed on the cap and took what looked like a
fancy stapler and sealed the lid.
Cynthia handed the jar to the Sargent, who in turn passed a small plastic
stick, like the kind the doctor used to depress our tongue, but much smaller.
The Sargent approached me, jar in had, as Cynthia inserted the stick into
Jared’s beheaded erection.
“No charges will be filed in the matter,” the Sargent said, “against you or
your husband. But you will have to answer questions at the station about your
accomplices. If you fail to provide the required information, jail will be the
result—I can assure you. Your husband will be a little sore for a few days,
like I said. Cynthia is inserting a small stick that will keep the opening of
Jared’s urethra open and clear. But can remove it after a few hours.” She
nodded her head at the big man, and I felt the pressure of his grip lessen.
Then, he released me. I remember thinking that I would fall over, just
collapse on the floor, now that the force of his arms no long held me up. But
I didn’t. I stood in front of the Sargent, this middle aged professional woman
who had overseen the beheading of Jared’s cock. I stood eye to eye with her,
my hand tremble slightly.
“The jar is of course yours,” she said, and I felt the cold of the glass jar
against my palm and she placed it in my hand. “Good day.” She said, and turned
to leave.
The others followed her, Cynthia now carrying the briefcase for her boss. The
walked out single file and silently as I stood in my bedroom, the jar with my
husband’s severed glans in my hand, sunlight streaming down on Jared’s
squirming moaning body, still tied to our marriage bed. And then they were
gone.
My body was cold, shaking. I put the jar on the nightstand, looking at it for
only a moment. Jared’s mighty mushroom cap floated in the liquid. The wide
pink flesh of his manhood filled nearly the entire jar. And behind it, still
thick and erect, was the upper shaft of his stalk. I could see the tiny veins
in the thin pink flesh that was stretched tight over the iron hard shaft. And
at the end, the scar of his circumcision, now a darker brown from the laser
cut. The sensitive flesh of my husband’s manhood, that had given him the
greatest pleasure of his life, and of mine, floating in a jar.
I literally fell on the bed, my arms reaching for my husband. I pulled my legs
onto the bed and lay beside him, rapping my arms around his trembling body. I
couldn’t bear to look at his mutilated manhood, the black stick protruding
obscenely from the beheaded end. His body shook in my arms. He was cold,
sweaty, and smelled of sweat and sperm—just like after he jerked himself off
when I was pregnant. But there was another smell too, the smell of burned
flesh. I put my head on his chest, hearing his heart beating strong and
steady. My ears were filled with the sound of his breath and his quiet
delirious moans. This man who had ravaged me like a beast, given me so much
pleasure. Tears filled my eyes and dripped onto the smooth skin of his chest.
* * *
It was so long ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I’m an older woman now,
a mom, and my days are filled. Jared’s days are filled too—with fatherhood,
yard work, work at his mechanics job. But we no longer make love.
Jared was completely disinterested in sex at first. He was so depressed. In
all, the device removed about 2.5 inches from his organ—1.5” of glans and
another 1” of shaft. What remained was 3.5” of pasty white shaft. The end was
blunt, and often felt rough to the touch. I used to wake up at night and hear
him in the bathroom crying. I went to him once and put my arms around him.
“Baby, it’s ok,” I said. I felt his tears soak the shoulder of my shirt.
“No, no it’s not,” he sobbed. A twenty-year-old man, my husband, sobbing on
the bathroom floor. “You don’t understand. I need it; I need the feeling. My
balls hurt so much. There is this constant pressure in me, between my legs.
God, I need it so bad.”
“Then let’s try again. Maybe, now that a little time has passed, it will be
like before.” I wanted so much for him to understand that I still wanted him,
still needed him, sexually. But he wouldn’t talk about it anymore. He closed
up.
On our second anniversary, I made a special dinner for him. I wined him and
dined him. And that night, I began to feel of him, up his leg, nibbling his
ear, just like I did when we were first married. And he wanted me. I could
feel the passion radiating from his mouth, from his balls, from his body. It
had been so long for him, the pressure so great in his body for the release
that he once achieved every night. And he took me.
But it wasn’t the same. He entered me, and I barely felt him at my enterance.
His organ was still the same thickness, but I no longer felt “filled up” as I
once had. As Jared lowered his weight onto my body and stuck is headless spear
into my warm hole, he didn’t breathe, didn’t tense his face, didn’t moan in
pleasure. His deep brown eyes just stared into mine, vacant. “Oh baby,” I
moaned as I shifted my hips under him. But he knew it wasn’t the same for me.
And I could tell that he felt nothing, not compared to the amazing pleasure my
pussy had once given him.
He made a play of humping me, but his shortened organ popped out over and over
again. His body wasn’t used to the short strokes an adjusted man must use.
Each time he popped out, he closed his eyes in disappointment. By the time I
faked my orgasm so he could stop, his eyes were watery with tears. I just held
his body on top of mine, my hands spread wide on his muscled back, not a drop
of sweat covering his body.
We rarely made love after that. No matter how hard we tried, Jared just
couldn’t feel enough pleasure in his headless organ to produce any kind of
climax. Some clear seminal fluid would often leak from the hole of his
beheaded spear, but it was only a faint echo of the mighty blasts of seed that
once squirted from his stinger. Our attempts at lovemaking were more
frustrating than pleasurable, for both of us. Having become used to a
grunting, needing, lovingly aggressive lover, I simply couldn’t connect
sexually with the passive soulless, pleasureless humping of my adjusted
husband. I suppose that, in my own way, I am now an “unadjusted wife.” I
sometimes think of my friends, who have only experienced the mechanical,
headless humping of their husbands that is only intended to produce their own
pleasure. They seem to love it, with their mate focused only on doing
everything right for them and when their pleasure is achieved, the act is
over. But such lovemaking holds little charm for me. I once thought about
asking Jared to use the extender for me, but how could I do that to him? How
could I insult the memory of the powerful throbbing organ he once possessed by
asking him to replace it with a rubber tip?
We were forced to give testimony about those who helped Jared remain
unadjusted. But I only knew about the Doctor and his wife at the clinic. And
by the time the authorities arrived to arrest them, they were long gone. The
word must have spread far and wide, and no one else was found or adjusted
based on the information we provided. The others in the group must have
considered Jared and isolated casualty.
But, of course, he wasn’t the only casualty. And neither was I. That is
perhaps the reason I am writing this journal. I know that I stated at the
beginning that I intended for it to be found and read some time in the future,
when we’re all gone and the world might be a different place. But there is
someone else who will read it, perhaps after Jared and I pass
away—Christopher.
Today is a very special day for our family. Today I opened the small safe in
our closet that holds the jar containing the severed head of Jared’s dick. I
don’t open the safe very often, but today was different.
Today I have something else to add to the safe—another jar to sit beside
Jared’s. As I placed it on the shelf next to Jared’s jar, I compared the two
together for the first time. This new jar contained the severed glans of our
son Christopher. Today he turned 12 years old, and it’s his Adjustment Day.
The guests have already arrived for his party. There will be gifts of money
for college and such. His adjustment marks the beginning of his journey into
adulthood and manhood. The clipping of his penis is the beginning of the rest
of his life. Soon he’ll start dating. I have no doubt that he and his friends
are already whispering about girls, what their like, and how best to please
them. And as I look at the two jars, I can’t help but think about the
differences between what floats inside of them.
Jared’s jar was filled with a fat plump penis head. I still remembered each
contour and curve of his sensitive flesh—I had charted each bump and ridge of
his helmet and shaft with my tongue and fingers during the first year of our
marriage. As I looked at sensitive flesh that floated in and filled the jar, I
thought about all the times Jared had moaned and groaned in pleasure as it was
touched and sucked. How many times had his body be racked with the ultimate
pleasure his penis head had provided—whether through contact with his hand or
my mouth or my pussy? The humping and thrusting of that throbbing pink helmet
inside of my body had produced our son.
And beside it, now sat Christopher’s jar. The jar was the same size as
Jared’s, but the bit of flesh floating within it was tiny in comparison.
Christopher’s tip was a deep crimson, a small red nub of flesh, a miniature
version of the plump mushroom in his father’s jar. And size wasn’t the only
difference between the flesh floating on that shelf. Christopher’s small nub
had never felt the throbbing rush of pleasure that Jared’s had so many times.
And that is why it was floating in the jar that day. I couldn’t let my son
experience the heartache of losing—forever—the pleasure that flesh would one
day have given him. It was better for him to never know what he and his future
wife were missing. That way, Christopher can grow up like his friends, find a
woman and pleasure her, and they will both accept their lives together as the
only way it can be. His wife will ever have to listen to my son sob in the
bathroom, forever desiring the pleasure of orgasms he never should have
experienced.
THE END
Comments and reviews are welcome. Email me at [email protected]
* * * |
Wesley's Days [S] | `
# Wesley's Days
By: Zombie
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[STRAIGHT] [PENECTOMY] [TESTICLES] [NULLIFICATION] [MINOR] Other:
Wesley on Star Trek plays with the holodeck and pays with his
manhood.
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`
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Normal Disclaimers Here: Must be at least 21 to read, if not move
on. I am just referencing characters of a show I like so my readers
can visualize the situations better. No copyright or trademark or
other legal term is being done. All resemblance to people past,
present or future is totally coincidence and you should slap
yourself for thinking I actually know everyone in the world. If I
spell names wrong or they are not portrayed in the best light, deal
with it, it is a fan-fic. Warning: it starts slow, but ends well.
Wesley Crusher sat in his throne room. It had been a difficult day
on the bridge; the Enterprise had barely escaped another threat of
annihilation by another random alien species. This time it was the
"Borg". A few had found their way onboard and it had been a
frustrating battle for survival. He sat on the red cushions of his
golden throne, pondering how to relieve the stress. The castle
throne room was dark. He had designed it to be a place of
retrospection and escape. The room was the exact opposite of the
ship. He liked it that way. As soon as he walked into the
holo-deck, he wanted to forget everything outside and just relax.
The shadows and dark passageways were difficult to design, but a few
old records of medieval times on Earth eased the creation process.
Everything from a moat to guards to a custom torture room. Over
time he had built a city surrounding the castle. All of its
citizens were of course taken from the computer's logs. It took
some programming and some serious code breaking, but he had
surrounded himself with all the crewmembers of the Enterprise. The
most difficult part of the creation of his city was the addition of
a torture chamber. Weeks of programming and research went into the
simple construction of the rooms, but it took him an entire month to
program the proper authorization to torture even simulated
crewmembers. The best part of his little world was that he was the
king. All the citizens, being taken from the ship's logs, had to be
told this and had to know why they were living in a medieval
society. A fake memory implant of being marooned on a planet
without any salvageable material and threat of war with the local
alien race, quickly motivated everyone into a state of medieval
livelihood. Of course the fact that he was king and all actions
done by the king are the actions and words of 'god', took a serious
subconscious memory implant. No one questioned his authority. If
they did, he would scream "Computer, freeze program" and simply
reprogram the person on the spot.
He listened to the torches at the far away walls burn and
crackle. He could hear the indigenous life forms in the courtyards
chirping and clicking away. He sat in the dim stone room, unable to
stop seeing the Borg soldiers taking phaser hits and still moving.
He decided to have a little celebration and created a mock victory
over the people's enemies. He called in his Jester to announce a
victory celebration with dancing girls, drink, and a banquet for him
and his key generals. Jester Piccard ran quickly away after hearing
his lord's decree. He rushed to the kitchen and down through the
streets screaming the words of the king. Within the hour, Wesley
was eating a freshly cooked boar and drinking wine with the generals
of his army. Riker, Worf, Data, and Jordi surrounded him in the
U-shaped table brought before his throne. Although one could not
actually digest a hologram, it was delicious. The minstrels sang of
his righteous rule and the victories of the army. Mostly of his
superb leadership, but a few key battle songs kept the conversation
going with the generals. It started to lag after a few hours, so
Wesley called in the dancing girls. Girls picked at random from the
city to dance for their king. He did not recognize any of the crew
women dancing before him. They were wearing their skin-tight
uniforms, well at least the bottom half. Wesley had decreed early
in his rule that all women must never hide their chest from view.
Some had tried. Instead of reprogramming them, he decided to use
the facilities that had taken him the longest to procure in the
castle. The torture chamber was an entire floor in the castle.
Only he could enter and only one guard was placed at the door. The
dancing excited him and the thought of punishing those that broke
his laws gave him some ideas.
Early in the creation of the perfect world, Tasha Yarr had been a
thorn in his side. She had apparently came from a society much like
the one he created and had hated every minute of it. From what he
could steal from Diana Troi's psychological reports and from her
computer files he deduced that Tasha hated any male dominated
society and that she hated not having control or power. She would
try organizing the people with talk of democratic ideals and
starting movements to topple his tower of dictatorship. He could
not remember how many times he had tried to reprogram her. When he
finally finished, she could barely walk and really couldn't talk.
The modern approach had failed him, so he looked to his research in
medieval society. Torture seemed to be the answer to everything
from a common cold to a traitor. So, he erased the walking robot
that had become Tasha, and started from the pre-reprogrammed
hologram. A few days trying each piece of equipment, she had become
his loyal torture chamber assistant. It took him a month of trying
to crack her, but she had been well worth it. Whether she gave in
because she wanted power or because she couldn't take any more
abuse, he would never know. He had provided her with holo-books
about the devices and a few choice selections from his own sordid
collection on pleasure and pain. She liked the role of head
mistress of the chamber and he had often caught her torturing a poor
villager to orgasm. He had found her to be very creative and often
more abusive than he ever could have. Every time he passed her in
the corridor or was next to her in the turbolift, he couldn't stop
thinking of her wearing those black leather panties and boots. The
first week of Tasha's torture was a bit awkward for him. He had
never really hurt anyone, at least intentionally, and she often just
laughed at his meager attempts at pain-infliction. She had been
whipped and burned and skewered, but she just laughed it off. After
the second week, he had decided that all conventional torture would
not work on an officer of the ship, let alone on the head security
officer. He researched outside and inside the holo-deck. He would
talk to the real Tasha at 10-forward and try to make pleasant
conversation. He always failed to discus anything but current
events. She would brush him off and go back to her work or walk out
of the bar altogether. From her medical and psychological files, he
found out that she feared being raped. In fact, digging in her
personal tracking records in the main computer he discovered that no
one but Data had entered her personal quarters and that she had
never been closer than 3 inches from any other crewmember. This
fear of intimacy and hate of sex explained why she seemed so mean
and self-reliant. He had always thought it was because she was a
security officer, but it was starting to become clearer as he probed
deeper into her the puzzle that was Tasha's past. His first attempt
at "radical" torture was simple. He took off all her clothes.
During previous torture sessions he had made her wear only a pair of
tight shorts and shackles to keep her on the device being used at
the time. He had altered her program slightly to reduce her limb
strength to half his own. Although she could not physically
restrain him, she could still restrain most women in the crew and
with his help, a large quantity of men on the ship's roster.
Being naked in front of a teenage boy was not exactly a good way to
start the day for Tasha. Wesley soon found this out when he cut the
shorts off her and she started screaming. The obscenities that
spewed from that pretty face would make a Feringy cringe in
dishonor. He placed her on the rack and started stretching her.
Previous attempts at this torture had failed miserably, even when a
shoulder or hip became dislocated. Simply spreading her legs and
removing her ability to slightly sit-up, caused her extreme mental
anguish. He stretched her to the near breaking point and just
started talking about her body. She shook and quivered; her body
taut and glistening with the sweat from the strain on her muscles.
He complemented her on her legs, her hair, her face, and even her
breasts. He like bigger breasts, but hers were a good average size.
He played with her nipples and she gave him a stare that could
freeze Satan himself. He stroked her body and caressed her, nothing
that was really "torture" to anyone. When he moved his attention to
her lower abdomen and legs, she screamed and cursed his birth.
Fueled by the torrent of vulgar comments coming from the head of the
inclined table, Wesley positioned himself between her legs and just
stared at her shaking legs. She could not move her body to see him
and she did not know what he was going to do. Fear sparked more
screams and flames flew from her tongue. He caressed and massaged
her feet, then the slowly moved up to her calves. By the time he
had moved past her knees, she was covered in more sweat than she had
shed in the past two weeks. When his hands started moving up her
thighs and circling her sex, two distinct snaps echoed in the
chamber followed by screams. She had dislocated both shoulders
straining to see or prevent what she feared he was going to do.
A quick reprogram to the current state of the hologram, and she was
back on the rack without busted arms. She was still unconscious and
she was still sore from the quasi-healing. He froze the program and
moved her to the hanging shackles in the corner. He spread her legs
and tied her legs to the ground. He shackled her hands above her
head and started the program. Bringing a hot poker over, he pressed
it to the inside of her thighs. She gasped and choked a scream out.
Still groggy from the past humiliation, she just mumbled a curse as
she stared blankly at the ground. He pressed the poker to the other
thigh. Low wail. He pressed the poker to the inside of her thigh.
Scream. He pressed the poker to the inside of her other thigh.
Scream that echoed off the stone walls. He slid the cool side of
the poker up and down both thighs crossing her sex in an upside down
U-form. Every time he rubbed the burns on her inner thighs she
would curse and every time he would rub her sex she would scream.
Wesley placed the cool poker rod between her lips and slowly slid it
to the hot barb. Up and down. The motion of the rod and the
writhing female body had him standing tall and uncomfortable. He
had to adjust himself, but decided to just de-robe instead. She
screamed at the sight of an engorged penis so near her sex and began
crying. The attention to her pussy with the rod had not been in
vain; she came on the rod and the sizzle made him extremely horny.
He replaced the rod with his own and slid up and down. He felt like
the luckiest hot-dog in the ship. She moaned as she sobbed. He
rubbed her clit with his fingers and massaged her lips around his
engorged member. She came again and her body relaxed in the
restraints. After a few minutes of "torture", he placed his head in
her pussy. A quick thrust and scream, and she was soon gyrating
towards him. The torture continued, but with less cursing and more
moaning. Over the next week, he repeated the "torture" on all the
machines in one way or another. It was a great stress reliever at
the time and he still enjoyed just strapping her to a table. Some
of the machines he never really figured out, but it was still fun to
strap her to one and give her a thousand lashes with a dildo.
Motorized dildos didn't fit in with the medieval theme, so he got a
great deal of exercise. At first, she was against the use of
"foreign objects" in their little match of wills, but she now wears
a dildo in her ass and in her pussy. Each held in place by her
leather panties. She had complained at first when he padlocked the
panties on with the dildos in, but after a week of running jumping
and biking, she only takes them out when ordered. All the thought
about torture and the women dancing for the victory compelled him to
take his celebration in private. He called to clear the court and
moved to the lower chambers of the castle.
[Return To The Eunuch
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Corporate Executive Image | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Being an executive of a company is very impressive. But everything isn't always what they appear. | ` I use to be a vice president of a relatively large advertising firm in San
Francisco. I thought I had finally made it. The pay and respect earned made me
believe so. I am now retired and still enjoy the benefits of that position. At
about the same time, I met my current wife. Kim was an assistant in the
layouts area. I thought she was very attractive, but I was still married to my
first wife of 23 years and really wasn’t looking for anything. Kim was 24 at
the time, just out of school and looking to move into something better. She
flirted with me, but I thought it was just the normal office flirting. I was
already in my late fifties and she was young enough to be my daughter. Well,
we went beyond flirting. I guess she made me feel young again and in my
position I thought it would be a perfect world. High position, lots of money,
young attractive wife. I divorced my first wife. She suspected I was having an
affair and wasn’t surprised. The settlement was quick and I was a free man. I
married Kim 3 months later. I joined the crowd of over 50 year old executives
with a wife in her 20’s. Everything seemed perfect. Kim quit her job and
stayed home so that eliminated the conflict of interest work problem. That was
10 years ago. `
Six months after our marriage on a Saturday, Kim took me to a dinner at her
friends place. Jenny and Karen lived over in Tiburon. We live in Mill Valley
and I guess Kim met them at a local health spa. We had dinner and were
relaxing in the living room. I had a number of drinks and I guess I became
quite numb. I couldn’t move very well. I was awake but in a kind of daze. They
stood me up and took me to another room. It was like I was a robot. I really
didn’t have a will of my own. Then they started to undress me. I really
couldn’t resist. It was, to use and old cliché, like being in a dream. I was
kind of wake but not really aware of what was happening. I couldn’t move or
speak.
When they had me naked, they put me on a table and had me lay down. My legs
were put into some kind of anklets and attached to some ropes hanging from the
ceiling. Kim came over and kissed me on the forehead. Then Jenny and Karen
took over. I don’t remember much but I know I felt a lot of touching and
pulling of my genital area. When they were done, Jenny held up two flesh
colored objects. My testicles. She smiled. They got me up and put a robe on
me. We went out to the car and Kim drove me home. She gave me some drink and I
passed out.
I woke up Sunday and felt a little sore in the groin area. It felt like
someone had kicked me in the balls. I reached down and rubbed and found a
bandage. Then I remembered the previous night and screamed. Kim woke up
immediately. She told me it was alright and to relax. I just asked her why?
She said she wanted to make sure I didn’t find a third wife. She liked our
life style and wanted to keep it. This would ensure it. What woman would want
a eunuch for a husband? That word really struck home, eunuch. I started to
cry. I wanted to strangle her, but what was the use. She said we could stay
together and if I wanted out, her settlement would be huge. If not, she would
tell everyone of my lack of balls. She had a video of the whole operation and
extra copies were with Jenny and Karen. Since I wasn’t restrained in any way
and was apparently awake during the whole operation, people would think it was
completely voluntary. I couldn’t believe it. But what could I do?
So my life began as a castrated male. I have since found out that Jenny is a
veterinarian with a fairly successful practice. Karen is her assistant and
lesbian lover. They gave me a drug she uses in the office. I guess it’s some
kind of powder they put in food for difficult animals. Well it also works on
humans. It puts the patient into a trance like state. Not fully asleep, but
very docile. Jenny told me later that a lot of her patients don’t even
remember anything. She has done a number of these operations. I was told over
100. In the bay area I guess it’s a fairly common request with the large gay
community. I have seen the video a number of times. Kim makes me watch it to
remind me of my situation. I really don’t need the reinforcement. I know I am
‘fixed’. The operation was pretty straight forward. A tray was placed under my
groin area and the sac was cut away with a small knife. It looked like an
x-acto knife. Some stainless steel clamps were used to hold everything open
and control the bleeding. They actually looked like long scissors with flat
ends. That looked to be the most time consuming part. I saw the testicles.
They were flesh colored with some blood veins visible. There was a kind of
fleshy connection that I guess held the spermatic cord and blood vessels. I
thought they would all be separate like three wires. But they were all
together in this common cord. It was clamped off and the final cut made as the
testicle dropped into Karen’s gloved hand. She rinsed it in some liquid and
placed it on a paper towel on the tray. The second one followed and it was
over. They used some kind of thread to tie off the cords and then removed the
clamps. I was sewed shut. It looked like an awful mess. There was some blood
and a lot of discoloration. It took several weeks before it all looked healthy
again.
The stitches came out after 10 days. Kim cut them away. I have accepted my
life now. It still appears I have it all, but the one thing I don’t have
aren’t visible. Of course my sex life has radically changed. Kim enjoys sex,
so I perform a lot of oral on her. She also purchased some vibrators and I use
them on her sometimes. As far as I know she hasn’t had any affairs with other
men. Sometimes she uses a vibrator on me and I can still have an orgasm. They
are still pretty intense but not as satisfying. I guess the loss of
testosterone lowers the enjoyment. My penis has become smaller and erections
are difficult. This may be because of my age though. When I do have an orgasm
a lot of the times my penis is not even hard. We have a vibrator that is
narrow and she puts it into my anus and against my prostate. That along with a
vibrator on my penis produces the best orgasms. I still ejaculate and that
gives me a lot of pleasure too.
Kim has since joined a kind of club. It’s a wives club of castrated
executives. Evidently there are a number of high ranking corporate executives
that are also castrated. Most of the wives are young but there are a few older
members. I have never met any of the husbands, but have seen the wives. My
wife has hosted a number of the lunches and other get togethers they have.
They of course have seen me. It was quite embarrassing the first time, but
they didn’t seem to make a big deal out of it. They are all married to
castrated males after all. I’ve heard them talk and they all seemed to have
used castration as a means to ensure their marriages. None of them have
allowed their husbands to be cosmetically corrected. I can tell you from my
experience it does make you feel insignificant. With artificial testicles I
think I would feel more like a man. So being without also serves the wives
purpose.
But that is my story. I am still married to Kim and we have a happy marriage.
I have kids from the previous marriage and that isn’t a problem. Kim hasn’t
said she wants any children yet. If and when she does, she will go to a sperm
bank for a donor. Of course nobody other than Kim and the members of that club
know about my condition. I have accepted my life as a castrated male. The
testicles were put in a jar with some preservative. Jenny has them. Kim didn’t
want them. So they are on display in a cabinet with about 50 others. I guess
not all wives want them back. I haven’t seen them since the operation, but
Jenny sent a picture of them in the glass jar. She says Kim can have them
anytime she wants. She never offers them to me.
* * * |
Short Story About Two Girls & a Boy, A | STRAIGHT, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | I do not want to give it away. | ` A short story about two girls, and a boy `
A nineteenth century story told in the twenty-first century
They say that if you're bored with London you're bored with life itself. In
which case Thomas Howerd-Emmory was quite prepared to be bored to death. He
was 29 years old, tall, dark and handsome in a very English and rather foppish
way. Educated at a good public school and a not quite so good university, he
had naturally drifted into the City after graduating with a 2.2.
Independently wealthy, with a substantial annual income from the Family Trust
Fund and a pad in town thrown in, having to make money didn't seem to have
quite the appeal for him that it did for most other people and so he'd quickly
drifted out again.
He'd done the travelling bit: snow-boarded in California, surfed in Oz,
bungee-jumped in New Zealand and hiked and climbed in South Africa. Although
he would never actually admit to anything more strenuous than an occasional
game of polo as a favour for a friend, he was actually quite fit and something
of a natural sportsman.
He'd been back in London for almost a year. Hadn't done a stroke. Hadn't
actually done anything and was bored, bored, bored. That was probably why he'd
accepted the invitation to Bonzo's party in the first place. He'd known Harold
Bonsor since school where he'd acquired the nickname Bonzo. They'd remained
friends in a fairly distant sort of way and Thomas had looked him up when he
got back.
Bonzo was a director of a City corporate communications firm that was moving
towards a Stockmarket Float when all the partners were intending to get
seriously rich and the party was to introduce clients, prospects, and
potential investors to the team. It was being held at Harpo's in Soho - so
fashionable it almost hurt and Thom, as he preferred to be called, arrived at
around 8.45 pm, a fashionable 45 minutes late.
The club was a seething mass of people, pulsating to the sound and light of
the disco on the dance floor and a maze of little rooms and alcoves elsewhere.
Thom grabbed a glass of champagne and wandered around until he eventually
located Bonzo.
"Thom old man! Great to see you. Glad you could make it," brayed Bonzo above
the din, "I'm sure you'll know heaps of people. So just enjoy."
Thom began to work the crowd like the true professional he was and sure enough
there were plenty of people he recognised. He was just returning an empty
glass to a waiter's tray when the woman appeared in front of him, almost as if
by magic, and helped herself to a full one.
She was tall, close to his own 5' 10" in her strappy, high-heeled sandals,
very blond with long straight hair that framed her face and fell past her
shoulders. She had skin so fair it almost appeared translucent, piercing blue
eyes and very red, bee-stung lips. She was wearing a shimmering silk dress of
very pale silver-blue with a Chinese design embroidered across the front. It
was cut square across the bust, with tiny shoulder straps, and finished half
way down her fabulous thighs. Thom was impressed.
"Hi. Thom." He introduced himself and reached out to shake her hand, "You must
be a friend of Bonzo's. We were at school together."
"Ellen. No, not really," she responded unenthusiastically and set off back
through the crowd.
Normally Thom would have accepted the rebuff and moved on to a new victim but
something indefinable about Ellen made him change his mind. Grabbing another
glass of champagne he set off after her, tracking her to one of the little
cubicles and was surprised to find her on her own.
Slipping on to the bench seat next to her he tried again. "So what are you
doing here then?"
"I'm here with Schmidts," she said, correctly naming one of Bonzo's largest
clients.
"So where are they all then ?" he persisted.
"Out there." with a nod and a flick of that long blond hair towards the disco.
"Care to join them ?" Thom tried, and was amazed when she accepted both his
offer and outstretched hand, allowing herself to be led onto the dance floor.
Ellen was an amazingly good dancer, moving with a sinuous, feline grace: eyes
shut, body writhing in time with the beat, with Thom jerkily hopping about
beside her, trying to keep up. She also did seem to know quite a few people,
shouting a 'hello' across the room between numbers, waving a greeting or
flashing a gleaming white smile.
Eventually the tempo slowed and Thom moved in, placing his hands on Ellen's
hips and gently pulling her towards him until their bodies touched. He
revelled in the feel of her, the way her body moved inside the silk dress
almost like it was a second skin. Cautiously exploring he discovered she
seemed to be wearing a strapless bra, a very small g-string and not a lot
else. He also discovered that despite her slim appearance he could also feel
the play of some impressively taut muscles in her arms, legs and buttocks.
Despite himself he was becoming aroused by the thrill of the chase and hoped
it wasn't becoming too obvious.
"I'm getting hot and thirsty. Can we go and get a drink ?" she said.
Thom led her to the bar, where they both opted for mineral water, and then
back to their original alcove that was still unoccupied. Sitting chatting,
Thom discovered that Ellen's family came from Eastern Europe 'a long time
ago'. She worked at a club in the West End, whose name he vaguely knew,
without being specific about what she actually did. She had a flat in Pimlico
and they shared an interest in sport, particularly climbing.
It was past midnight when Ellen asked him the time: "Look I'm not really very
good at this sort of thing. It's late. I've had enough... not of you, of this
do. I'm going to go. Would you like to come back to my place for coffee?"
"Sure, why not? I sure as hell don't have anything else planned."
"OK then. I'll just be a couple of minutes. Could you get my coat for me?" she
said handing him a cloakroom ticket, "And I'll meet you at the door."
The 'coat' turned out to be an exquisite crepe-de-chine wrap in black. Thom
threw it over his arm as he headed for the exit and caught just the hint of
some musky and exotic scent, dark as the garment itself.
Ellen was better than her word but as she breezed up to Thom, just a few
moments behind she said: "By the way, this is my sister Nelle. We share the
flat."
Thom stifled a flare of frustrated anger: now was a fine time to tell him; and
took stock of the situation. The second women stood in front of him was about
as tall as Ellen, of a similar build - slightly fuller-figured perhaps - and
appeared to be of around the same age. But that was where all the similarities
ended.
Nelle's hair was so dark it was almost black. She was olive-skinned with huge,
brown doe-eyes accentuated by dark lines of kohl around the lids. She was
dressed in what appeared to a Cossack costume. Scarlet tunic, trimmed with
brocade and huge gilt buttons, fastening Western-style diagonally across the
breast, black jodhpurs with highly polished cavalry boots and she had a sable
fur coat draped around her shoulders.
"Yes I can see the family resemblance," he joked.
The women shot each other a conspiratorial glance, smiled and then said, in
almost perfect unison: "That's what everyone says!"
Thom's mind raced as he stood on the kerb with his arm out waiting to hail a
cab. He could make his excuses and go back to the party, but he'd already had
enough of that. He could go back home to his own cold and lonely place. Or he
could take the plunge and the coffee and see just what else was on offer.
Before the cab pulled up the decision was already made: "Get in girls," he
called, then manoeuvred his way to sit between them on the back seat as Ellen
gave the driver the address.
"Come off it you're not really sisters are you?" and listened as they pealed
with laughter.
"It's better than that, we're actually twins..." began Ellen.
".... yes, she's the odd one out, all the rest of the family are dark like me.
We think it was the milkman," Nelle finished for her.
They began to chatter about their schooldays, growing up in Eastern Europe,
sharing clothes and how Ellen was always the one getting into trouble. Thom
relaxed, and putting his arms up onto the back of the seat began to rather
enjoy the sensation of having these remarkable women on either side of him. He
still couldn't make out whether they were pulling his leg or not and quite
frankly didn't really care.
Within five or ten minutes the cab pulled up outside an imposing four or five
storey building and they all piled out, waiting on the pavement while Thom
paid the fare.
"We've got the top floor." Said Ellen as she unlocked the front door. There
was an imposing lobby with an old fashioned, open-fronted lift waiting at the
back, which creaked its way up to the top before disgorging into a small and
rather dingy hallway with a single blank door at the end.
Inside, though, the apartment was another surprise. High-ceilinged, bigger
than he expected, spotlessly clean, beautifully decorated and furnished with
an impressive collection of antiques. Nelle disappeared into the kitchen to
make the coffee while Ellen made them comfortable in the living room: drawing
the curtains, dimming the lights, putting on some vaguely Indian sounding
music and switching on an extremely realistic gas, log-fire which formed the
centre-piece of the large room.
Thom sat himself down at one end of a sofa and Ellen came and joined him,
kicking off her sandals and then swinging her bare legs up until they lay
provocatively across his lap. Nelle returned from the kitchen with three cups
of Turkish coffee on a tray: black, sweet, frighteningly strong and served
without comment.
As they sipped the silence grew, listening to the insinuating chords of the
sitar and watching the flicker of the flames as the room grew warm. Eventually
it was broken by Nelle who suddenly stood and announced: "Well that's about
it. I think I'm going to have a shower and get ready for bed. Catch you all
later folks. G'night."
The silence descended again as Ellen snuggled even further down into the
couch, even more of those luscious legs wriggled across Thom's lap and surely
accidentally, the silk dress rode even higher up her thighs. Thom finished his
coffee and placed the cup back on the saucer with a tinkle that rang like
drums around the room and then, equally accidentally, placed his hand on top
of ones of those thighs which he began to gently stroke.
"Shall we go to bed as well?" asked Ellen her voice carefully neutral.
"Yes, I think so," he replied.
She got up and taking his hand led him into the bedroom. It was another
fabulous room though not as large as the lounge. It was decorated throughout
in dark reds and burnt oranges. Heavy, full-length velvet curtains covered the
windows, there were obviously ancient tapestries on the walls. It was warmed
by a small fire burning in the middle of an ornate grate but was dominated by
an enormous, canopied four-poster bed, made with snow white linen and
festooned with pillows, cushions and extravagantly embroidered quilts.
Walking over to the bed Ellen slipped the straps from her dress down her
shoulders. She seemed to give a little shiver and the dress slithered to the
floor. Reaching behind she undid the clasp on the sheer, flesh-coloured bra
and that too fell to the floor. Thom gave himself a mental pat on the back
when her saw that she was indeed wearing just the tiniest matching triangle of
a g-string... that she equally unselfconsciously wriggled down her legs.
Naked, Ellen threw herself onto the bed, lay propped up on the pillows and
stretched out her arms to him: "Come," she breathed.
Thom almost ripped off his clothes to join her. Up close she was as gorgeous
as he had hoped. She had flawless fair skin but with a delightful, almost all-
over golden tan, showing just three paler triangles where a bikini as
minuscule as her underwear had been. Her pubic hair was so blond it was almost
invisible and grew in a wispy tuft along the length of her slit. She had small
breasts but with prominent, upturned nipples and large areolas. All in all,
Thom felt he was going to enjoy this.
If Ellen had been a cat on the dance-floor she turned into a tigress in bed.
She was all over him in flash: clawing, scratching, biting and nipping. Sex
quickly became a battle and Thom found himself losing his temper: more angry
with himself than with her; as they writhed around on the bed like two wild
animals. Flipping Ellen onto her back he forced himself between her legs and
then pinioned her hands to the mattress above her head.
"So you want to play rough eh?" he taunted her and lowering his head took her
left nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make her gasp and
writhe in pain. The violence and the power seemed to push him to a different
plane and he realised that he was harder than he had been in years... and
needed to have this woman now.
He pulled her hands together above her head, grasping them both with his left
and reaching down between their legs, guided himself inside her. Finding her
still quite tight and dry he drove all the way home with a grunt, feeling her
knees raise and part around his waist as she opened herself to accommodate
him, before capturing both her hands again.
Still deep inside her he began rolling his hips, grinding their pelvises
together, her clitoris trapped between. Eventually he subdued her, as he knew
he would. He felt her body relax and watched as a flush spread across her
chest, darkening her nipples. She closed her eyes and began to breathe in
deep, slightly ragged pants and it seemed instantaneously he was drenched in
her love juices.
He began to pump his cock in and out of her, long, slow strokes, enjoying the
feel of his tool running the length of her love channel.
"Mmm, yes, that's it," she moaned and began to babble, "Fuck me. Fuck me.
Harder. Make me cum. I want your spunk. Do it. Do it to me now you bastard."
Becoming more and more aroused by this stream of obscenities Thom quickened
his pace, faster and faster until they came together in a frenzied brutal
orgasm that left them both spent.
As the passion drained and he collapsed on top of Ellen, Thom became aware of
someone clapping, slowly. Glancing up he saw Nelle silhouetted in the open
doorway wearing just a short black robe.
"Bravo ! Bravo Sam Stud. That was quite a performance," she said advancing
across the room, "Mind if I join you? Us sisters have got to stick together."
And slipping off her robe she slipped between the sheets.
Sandwiched between these two wild and exotic women, Thom turned to face Nelle,
and felt Ellen snuggle up behind him, groin pushing into his bottom and
breasts squashing against his back.
Up close Nelle was if anything more magnificent than her sister. She was
altogether more rounded, olive skin flawless, breasts fuller topped off with
large dark nipples. She had a thatch of luxuriant black pubic hair, filling
the triangle between her thighs and reaching up almost to her navel, which
Thom suddenly realised he found very exciting.
She began to kiss him, passionately, her tongue snaking in and out of his
mouth and twisting around his own. Thom's left hand traced the contours of one
of those extravagantly large breasts, then down over the mounds of her hip and
into the forest below.
She lifted her leg, swinging it up over Thom's hip, opening her vulva for him
to explore: she was hot, slippery and wet. Thom realised with a sudden
surprise that he was hard again and he wanted her now. Reaching down between
her buttocks he grasped his rigid tool and manoeuvred it to the entrance of
her hole and allowed Nelle to push herself down onto him.
Fully imbedded now and trapped between the sisters was losing himself in lust.
He continued kissing and caressing Nelle: stroking the cheeks of her arse, the
insides of her thighs and toying with the entrance to her other hole: feeling
her respond as her pussy clenched around his cock.
At the same time Ellen was rubbing the length of her body against his,
breathing softly on the nape of his neck, nibbling at his ear lobe and he
felt, rather than saw, her hand snake across his chest and begin a playful but
insistent tugging at her sister's nipple. As his second climax neared all
three began a rhythmic undulation of their bodies as Thom's cock slid in and
out of Nelle's love sheath. He came, feeling his spunk jet inside her and she
followed a few seconds later: body stiffening and head thrown back, breath
coming in long shuddering pants.
Wrapped in a post-coital tangle of limbs Thom drifted off to sleep. He was
awoken with a start, what could have been moments or could have been hours
later, no trace of light, day or night, seeped through those heavy curtains -
by the warm, wet and gentle ministrations of a mouth upon his cock.
He lay still for a moment, luxuriating in the sensation: trying to persuade
himself that he wasn't dreaming, that it hadn't all been a dream, trying to
collect his thoughts and remember exactly where he was. The rhythmic bobbing
under sheets persuaded him there was at least one other person in the bed with
him. Lifting the edge and peering down he saw a cascade of dark curls over his
groin, it was Nelle.
He was just starting to wonder where Ellen had gone when the bedroom door
opened and she walked through, wearing her sister's robe and carrying a tray
bearing a decanter and three glasses. Reaching the bed, she placed the tray on
a small stand and poured three measures of a dark red liquid: "Here, drink
this darling," she said handing him one.
"I'm not sure," he began, "I don't know whether it's too early or too late to
start drinking..."
"Don't worry. It is from the Carpathian mountains, where my family comes from.
It is a very old recipe. Made from honey and herbs and spices. It will make
you feel wonderful. It is supposed to be an aphrodisiac."
In for penny, in for a pound, thought Thom as he knocked back the shot and
stifled a cough. The stuff was fiery, almost peppery, sweet and strong. It
burning all the way down his throat with a matching warmth that quickly spread
out through his stomach.
Suddenly something kicked in, like a drug buzz, and he started to feel
wonderful. He was wide awake, mind sharp, seeing things with a crystal clarity
and there was a pleasant tingling sensation in all his extremities. A stirring
and a swelling in his groin told him he was starting to feel horny again.
With a muffled whoop of triumph, Nelle sat up from between Thom's legs, the
sheet slipping down behind her naked back: "Yippee," she exclaimed and taking
the last glass from her sister knocked it back in one.
Ellen let the robe drop to the floor and climbed naked onto the bottom of the
bed until the two women were kneeling face to face. Their arms twined around
each other then they began to kiss, tongues starting to dart out across faces,
licking closed eyelids, the tips of noses, sucking on earlobes.
Thom watched almost hypnotised as their bodies drew closer, embraces tighter
and kisses more passionate. He was becoming more aroused than ever but held
back, knowing that this show was for him and the effect was precisely what
they intended. A doubt nagged at the back of his mind about whether it was all
for show or whether the potion was having them same effect on the women as it
was on him. As if in answer to his unspoken question the women broke their
embrace, both looking towards him.
"Like what you see?" enquired Nelle.
"Mmmmm."
"Want to see some more?" added Ellen.
"Mm mmmm."
Nelle leaned over the side of the bed and pulled open a large drawer, rummaged
around in it and then produced a flesh-coloured, double-ended dildo. The two
stubby phalluses curved gently upwards, joined by what looked like the guard
of a fencing sword. Grasping it in the middle Nelle placed one end on her
sister's lips and brought the other to her own. Slowly, teasingly the women
began to feed the rubber cocks into their mouths little bobbing movements
reminding Thom only too sharply of the treatment his own flesh and blood
member had been receiving just a few minutes earlier.
Once the two cocks were fully ingested the women's lips seemed to meet around
the central flange, Thom noticed that both sides of its upper edges were
covered with tiny rubber stipples, obviously designed to stimulate the
clitorises of the wearers.
As if she could read Thom's mind and treated the realisation of what he had
seen as some kind of secret signal, Nelle disgorged the cock from her own
mouth and then gently drew it from her sister's.
Lubricated with their own saliva, Nelle turned the dildo round: pushing the
end from her mouth into her sister's pussy before inching forward and impaling
herself on the other. The women snuggled closer until their pubic mounds met,
twin clits separated only by the exquisite chaffing of the rubber bristles.
Once contact had been made, bare arms twined around shoulders, the hollow
curve of backs and the naked swell of buttocks. They began showering kisses on
the other's lips, upturned faces, necks and breasts.
The contrast between the two was striking, enhancing the eroticism of the
tableau. Nelle's raven tresses, olive skin and heavy breasts and hips only
emphasised Ellen's paleness, making her look petite to the point of
boyishness.
Upper bodies still locked together the women began to bucks their hips in a
perfectly synchronised counter-point. Slowly withdrawing until Thom could see
almost a foot of space between them and then equally slowly pushing back
together again. He realised that their muscular control must be phenomenal and
identical... which suggested lots of practice.
Thom propped himself up on the pillows at the head of the bed and gorged
himself on the spectacle. But while his cock remained painfully stiff the rest
of him felt strangely detached, as if he was watching a porn movie, actresses
going through the motions, insulated from reality by the screen between,
rather than watching these two gorgeous creatures pleasuring each other for
his private benefit just a few feet away.
The women increased the tempo of their rhythm: hips bucking quicker, and their
two mounds meeting with growing force until Thom could actually hear a muffled
slap with each collision. Eyes closed, each woman sought her own climax, hair
becoming damp and matted. Thom watched fascinated as a bead of perspiration
trickled down between breasts squashed together and sticky with sweat.
When they came it seemed to be together, with a series of wordless moans and
pants, through lips locked in kisses so bruising and violent it seemed more
like fighting than fucking.
Nelle seemed to recover first. Breaking away she pushed her sister backwards,
wiping her forearm across her mouth as she did so. The dildo slipped from
Ellen's hole with a soft squelching sound and still lost in post-coital bliss
she toppled over sideways, ending lying on her stomach, blond hair wrapped
around her face.
"Your turn. Fuck her," Nelle ordered crudely.
Thom crawled down the bed on his hands and knees and up between Ellen's legs.
With one end of the double-dildo still protruding grotesquely from her own
fanny, Nelle helped get Ellen onto all fours, supporting her while Thom guided
his prick into her sopping hole and then grasped her hips to stop her slumping
forward again.
Immediately Ellen began moaning deliriously. And from the intense spasming of
vaginal muscles around his stem, Thom knew she was climaxing again. Having
already had two orgasms, Thom knew he was in for the long ride this time and,
he thought with a grin, Ellen would be begging him to come long before he
needed to.
Feeling wonderful and as if he really could last all night he set to work with
a will: long, deep strokes, enjoying the ebb and flow and the feel of his cock
running the length of her vaginal walls. At the end of each stroke he pulled
back on Ellen's hips until he was sheathed inside her as far as it was
possible to go: the tip of his glans nudging at the entrance to her womb.
Wallowing in the sense of power of having a beautiful woman so completely
sexually subjugated, Thom scarcely noticed Nelle creeping up behind him until
her felt her arms sneak around his chest and tweak his nipples, hard but
pleasurably so: "Hi, lover boy," she breathed.
He was much less pleasantly surprised when she released his nipples only to
grasp and spread his buttocks and begin to nudge at his hole with the end of
dildo.
"Oi ! What do you think your doing?" he shrieked.
"You know damn well what I'm doing. So why don't you just shut up honey and
enjoy the ride," and as she spoke she dug her nails hard into his buttocks.
Thom gasped in shock and involuntarily relaxed the muscles tightened in
resistance.
Still slick with Ellen's love juices, the head of the dildo was inside him
almost before he realised it. He had never been penetrated there before, by
anybody or anything, and he could feel himself being painfully stretched,
though not unbearably so.
"Stop it. Stop it," he protested weakly, "I don't do that..."
"You do now," countered Nelle, "Just put it down to experience. And you'll
find it really is a lot more fun if you stop trying to fight it."
She continued to push the dildo home, slowly but irresistibly, until suddenly
Thom realised it must all be inside him because he could feel the guard
against his skin and the insistent tickle of the rubber bristles at the top of
the cleft of his buttocks. Ellen was still off somewhere in a state of private
sexual bliss with no sign that she had heard the conversation or had any idea
what was going on. Still fucking Ellen Thom realised that he had just become
the filling in a very exotic sandwich, even so he still felt strangely
disassociated from the action almost as if he was watching himself in some
sleazy home blue-movie.
Having pushed the dildo home Nelle relaxed her vice-like grip, and leaving one
end impaled in Thom began to slide herself backwards and forwards along the
other, with a jolting bump each time the flat of her stomach hit the cheeks of
his arse.
Thom supposed his body had to be adjusting, muscles stretching to cope with
the intrusion, because although he still felt full, it was nowhere near as
painful as it had been. In fact it was almost pleasurable. As Nelle slid home,
the effect was to cause the other phallus to massage his prostrate. As a
result his own prick was, ram-rod, achingly hard, possibly bigger than it had
ever been before. He could actually feel it swelling inside Ellen and he heard
her whimper as her sheath expanded to accommodate him.
Tightening his grip on Ellen's thighs he began to work her backwards and
forwards along his own prick, trying to synchronise the ins-and-outs of his
own thrusts with Nelle's so that all three crotches slapped into contact at
the same instant. He somehow knew it was important, although he couldn't have
explained why, and the feeling when their bodies met was incredible, like
there was only one cock between them, and it was Nelle's and she was using it
to fuck her own sister but clean through his body.
They came together in a single howling climax that he thought would never come
and then hoped would never stop.
He supposed he must actually have passed out this time because when he came
round the women were kneeling either side of him on the bed, obvious concern
showing in their eyes.
"Are you all right?" they asked.
"Oh, sure just a little groggy," he replied but realised as he did so that he
lied. His arse was bruised and inflamed. His prick was sore. He ached all
over. His skin was slick and greasy. There was grit behind his eyes.
He felt like death. But there was a strange, calm sort of lassitude. He didn't
care and he didn't even care about not caring: "Yeah I'm fine."
"Great," said Ellen.
"Have some more of this," said Nelle handing him another glass of the blood
red liquid.
"No, I don't really think so..." he began.
"Oh but you must. You'll need it," she insisted.
"I know," Ellen chimed in brightly, "Let's freshen up."
Once he'd finished his drink the women helped him up and to a large bathroom
concealed behind one of the heavy curtains, where there was a large circular
jacuzzi. Once it was filled, he slipped into it and relaxed completely. Nelle
on one side and Ellen on the other made a great show of pampering him. They
washed his hair, gentle fingers massaging his scalp. And then his body from
head to foot with a rich, creamy, perfumed soap, scrubbing his tired skin with
a natural sponge until it glowed. He even felt a slippery, soothing finger
sliding into his bottom.
Eventually Nelle got out, wrapped herself in a thick black towelling robe from
a hook off the wall and wandered off. A few minutes later Ellen also climbed
out and donned a matching robe.
"Come on lazybones," she chided as she helped him from the bath and dried him
with large fluffy towel as he stood passively in front of her. She had just
about finished when Nelle returned and each taking hold of a hand the sisters
the sisters led him gently back to bed, as one would a child.
Idly he noticed that someone had changed the bed while he had been away. In
place of all the white linen and quilts there was now just a single black silk
sheet stretched tight across the mattress, with large bolsters also covered in
black silk running along each edge. The effect was somehow that of an
enclosure.
He was laid on his back in the middle of the bed. Ellen parted his legs,
crawled between them and began to lick at his cock and his balls, like a cat
laps at cream. Nelle knelt at the other end of the bed, thighs either side of
his head and began to shower his face with kisses from above as Thom laid
quiescently below.
Eventually, hours or days could have passed, Nelle sat up and then leaned
forward until she was on her hands and knees, face to face with her sister,
Thom's cock between them and her tongue joined the stimulation of his manhood.
Thom found Nelle's gaping coral gash - framed by the forest of black pubic
thatch on either side - just a few inches from his face and obediently began
some oral homage of his own. The puffy flesh was still warm and slightly damp
from the bath. She tasted clean and fresh but also of salt and sea and sex.
As he ran his tongue up and down her groove he realised her inner lips were
enormous, engorged with blood and jutting out from the vulva. She also had the
biggest clitoris he had ever encountered: the hardened tip protruding from
beneath the hood seemed almost the size of the end of his little finger.
Ellen took one of his balls into her mouth, rolling it around her tongue and
sucking on it like a plum, while Nelle rolled back his foreskin and took his
glans equally gently into her mouth. The sensation was nearly unbearable and
Thom found he was becoming hard again. He had never come so far or so often
before and with a feeling like almost like drowning realised he had no idea
where this was going to end.
With Thom licked into shape, and fully erect, the women changed tack. Nelle
sat up straight and then settled back on her haunches until Thom's face was
lost in the folds of her pussy. Ellen brought Thom's legs together and then
fed his prick inside her sat astride his lap.
Imprisoned in female flesh Thom lay completely still save for the bathing
Nelle's love bud with his tongue. His body felt enormous. He knew he was
inside Ellen, could feel the regular suck of her pussy around his cock, knew
it felt good. But it was like it was happening miles away, the sensations
muffled and dimmed by distance.
Eventually Nelle's body stiffened, pushing his tongue into her hole he
discovered for the first time both the taste and feel of a woman's climax.
Almost immediately she moved down his body to join her sister, leaving a trail
of her love-juices along his chest.
Their bodies came together as if magnetised: pubis to pubis, breasts to
breasts and lips to lips; amidst a tangle of arms and legs; and Thom found
himself gazing into the distance down the freeway of his body. Nelle's brown-
skinned back was towards him, all rolling curves, dark hair falling down her
shoulders and buttocks spread across his stomach. Behind her Ellen's chalk
white features were less distinct. Her eyes were closed, rapt in
concentration, thin white arms making ghostly tracks across Nelle's darker
contours.
Exhausted Thom lay back, gazed up at the canopy above his head for a while
until his leaden eyelids closed. He could feel Ellen's body caressing his cock
as she allowed her buttocks to rise and fall by little more than an inch or
two.
Unexpectedly she raised her body and was gone completely. Thom moaned and
shook his head from side to side in dumb and desperate supplication. Then it
was back, the womb-like comfort of a cunt enveloping his cock, and everything
was all right again.
Except it was different and Thom knew with certainty, without needing to look
or be told, that it was Nelle he was now inside. She felt warmer, wetter,
wider, wilder and, if anything, more wanton. Nelle bucked up and down his
manhood for ten or fifteen strokes and then made way for her sister once
again.
And so it went on and on as the sisters took it in turns to ride him. They
started to vary things. Nelle would take her turn but instead of handing the
reins to Ellen, would mount him once again . . . or at least so it seemed to
Thom. Then they took him in turns again... but for just one single stroke,
down and up and off. He was being fucked by two the women simultaneously.
There came the instant when time and space slipped and coalesced into a
different, alternate reality. For Thom, Nelle and Ellen / Ellen and Nelle
merged and became one single entity. They were simply different facets of the
same creature, like a photograph and its negative: light and dark, good and
evil, Yin and Yang.
There was just a single cunt. It was a great gaping maw, he was inside it and
it was devouring him. Thom came, but it was a dry and bitter consummation as
tremors racked his body. To his wonderment there were tears in his eyes as his
cock pumped fruitlessly. He was finished. It was finished. When he recovered
he noticed Nelle / Ellen, still naked, standing hand-in hand at the end of the
bed looking at him almost hungrily.
"We're not really sisters," they began. Or even blood relatives at all, at
least not in any way you'd understand. But we've been together for almost 700
years.
That's an awfully long time and makes us nearly kin. We're vampires, not like
in the books, we don't just drink blood or anything silly like that. No, It's
all of you, body and soul we're after.
Or more accurately what you humans refer to as life force, although sexual
energy is a much better term. You're our source now, for as long as you
continued to please and service us, you stayed alive. Now you’ve stoped,
you'll die, it's as simple as that.
You've done pretty well, for a mortal, but even the strongest of you can pump
out sex/life force for just so long, before you run out of it. Then we must go
after what is stored in your tissue/blood. When we're finished with you, we'll
share your heart.”
While they were saying this, Ellen was playing with my spent, but still erect
cock, but now Nelle Bent over and much like a diner at a self service
restaurant said, “I think I shall start with a little bite of this.”
And with that they flashed him gleaming white smiles. And for the first time
Thom noticed their teeth. Rows of terribly sharp, terribly pointed fangs.
Nelle sucked his cock head into her mouth, and he herd the crunch of her fangs
bite it off. And for the first time, he screamed.
Then Ellen took the rest of the erect shaft into her mouth, down to the
ballsack, and as her sharp pointed fangs penetrated his cock, she twisted her
head, tearing it as well as severing it. Then they shared his balls and sack,
sucking it half into each lushes mouth, biting and tearing it off of his now
vacant pubis. While he screamed.
Ellen smiled as she said while she with her inhumanly strong grip, lifted, and
twisted his left leg till it popped out of it’s socket, and ripped it off his
twitching body.“These mortals are so easy to harvest.” As he screamed.!
* * * |
“QUEERS AND BULLS NOT USED FOR BREEDING ARE CASTRATED” | TESTICLES | “QUEERS AND BULLS NOT USED FOR BREEDING ARE CASTRATED” | ` "QUEERS AND BULLS NOT USED FOR BREEDING ARE CASTRATED" `
© By Steve Aldea
I never thought moving to a small town south of Provo, Utah would amount to
anything less than a cup of coffee at the state street Dinner! The trek from
So California was a real change of life for me. I was not accustomed to the
sings of RED NECK Cowboys who were either Mormon or not. I knew of a returned
missionary named Elder Howard who had served in the Los Angeles Mission and
that’s about it. I always thought the state of Utah was the land of Zion, so I
was lead to believe from my early days of my youth in the church.
I was a recently widowed guy, married for 15 years and the wify passed away
from breast cancer. I made frequent trips to Provo and Salt Lake City for my
entertainment needs. I found a few watering holes at 2100 south in Salt Lake
that was a familiar hang out place for them good Mormon BYU boys and
University of Utah crowd.
I was inactive in the church and no one cared for many years had passed since
I was an active member of my religion. I did not give it much thought in how I
dressed other than I wore a white T –shirt crewneck, jeans, boots and my straw
hat in the summer months when it was all hot and all.
I liked to go camping and hiking around the canyons where I lived and the
trails on this particular day I knew would not be so busy because of the
Mormon Pancake breakfast earlier that was being held to raise money for the
youth groups in the Church. I started up the trails that I knew about and
found a spot where I could eat my lunch and take some pictures from the valley
down below. I became startled by a few boys from BYU University, they
indicated they had seen me in Church a few times and also saw me in Salt Lake
City at one of them “Queer” bars! I denied ever being at what they so called a
“Queer Bar”, I was caught off guard and not sure what to do at this point.
One of the Football Tackle dudes kept pushing me around until I lost my
balance and was flat on my back. In this party of four, these two dudes must
have been close to three hundred pounds as they held my arms down to the
ground. One guy named John produced that looked like a cattle castrating
knife, from his backpack and said only “Queers and Bulls not used for breeding
were castrated”! I felt the thumping of my heart in my chest, and I started to
breathe harder and harder struggling to get away. John and Mark his buddy took
off my shorts and Mormon underwear bottoms. They were surprised I was wearing
my Mormon garments, and John took his castrating knife and cut them off of me.
I pleaded not to go through with their threats, and reminding them they had
the wrong guy, I had never known of any Queer Bars in the Salt Lake area to
begin with in the first place.
I knew men have lost their balls before in time of war and for birth control
and other reasons, such as rape; however what was proceeding to be fixed upon
me was out of my mind! I kept pleading with these Mormon dudes, struggling to
get away and asked them to stop. Jason one of the football players yelled at
me “yeah were going to cut you like they taught us how do cut pigs on the farm
in 4-H” The brawn in them football players sure made me realize that they must
train pretty hard at the University football practices, no wonder why BYU had
a good football season the year before!
I was told to just shut up and take it like a man, as I heard Mark tell John
he had the purse ready to cut, he was ready to cut me then and now! The pain
from feeling the knife sear through my scrotum (purse) was something no man
should have had to go through. John cut my family jewels right out of my purse
freeing the cords to my balls then tied off the cords so I would not bleed so
much.
I soon realized before I later had passed out, that I was gelded, a Eunuch,
and I could do nothing about it, other than hope that the Ranger or someone
would come by and call for help before I bleed to death.
I awoke up later in a hospital in Provo; the town’s sheriff was asking me all
kinds of questions as to who were the persons responsible for castrating me. I
was in such a fog that I am not even sure anything I told the Sheriff made
much sense; I had lost a pint of blood and was weak. I knew them University
boys would sooner or later get their justice someday for the injustice they
gave to me, and even in the name of the Holy Priesthood they used as reason
for castrating me!
I knew they had it all wrong, me the wrong person, me the retired dude that
got invites to dinner almost every night from the single women of the church
now since I was a certified Eunuch! My stud years were now over and I had to
figure out how to live life over in Utah County.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
* * * |
For the Boys.... | STRAIGHT, All characters are over 18 | A priest gets what he deserves.... | ` [Author comment: This story is adult material. All characters are older than
18. Please do not copy or distribute it without the written permission of the
author. All rights are [email protected]] `
For the boys....
I hate him. Fat, ugly, and stupid. My name isn’t that important. But when I
was a kid I used to help him in the rectory, carrying the bread and the wine
and doing what I was told. Back then I was naďve, and stupid, and thought I
was the only one and so I held the secret and my parents never knew. Now,
well, now that has been many years ago, and a lot has happened in my life
since then. I look at him, and my guts turn over the hatred goes so deep. He’s
naked, and scared, and he has good reason to be. God will not protect him from
this, not after what he has done. His mouth is taped closed, and his fat legs
are spread wide, tied down across the pool table. They are spread so wide his
knees almost make it to the edges, and his arms are tied over his head and the
rope restraining them goes out of site under the table. But it is not the
ropes or his legs or his arms that grabs my attention. It's not even the
little chain with its cross that he wears around his neck. No, it’s his balls.
His forty-five year old sack is huge, almost like it belongs on an animal and
not a man, hanging loose and resting on the table top, the huge balls in his
sack so big they look like two big walnuts trapped in his sack. His prick
isn’t that long, not as pricks go, but it is hard and thick and straining,
almost eager even, the big purple head oozing his seed almost as if it is
drooling. Perhaps it somehow knows, somehow senses what is to come. Perhaps
its eager for justice even because of what it has done. Who can really say? It
bounces slightly, twitching almost with an eagerness, and it’s so damn hard.
It bounces up and down and perhaps it bounces to his heartbeat or maybe it
bounces from his fear. Whatever the reason, I watch the big bulging head, a
dark purple, round and oozing, and as I watch it twitch and jump I can’t help
but remember.
It’s his turn to feel the fear and the fear is there alright. He’s grunting
out something under the duct tape, trying to use his sweet talking voice to
get him out of this too I guess. I don’t care, and he is figuring that out.
His eyes are wild, open and frightened, and are doing all his begging, begging
for his nuts perhaps even though he should already know they are mine. A few
of those who were once his boys from those times not so long ago have come in
support of me, and they are smiling, yet their pleasure is tainted by the pain
of the memory. Still, they stare at his hanging sack and I sense they are
anxious for it to be taken and for justice to be done. The man’s robes and
collar are over on the chair, the robes that say he is a priest even though
his actions say otherwise. His congregation has left him as the word got out,
and it is now come out that the alter boys he molested litter the years
between then and now. I have no idea the number, and the police are still
figuring it out. I can almost hear their tears, their broken lives forever
changed by the man we all trusted. I wish they could all be here now, watching
him on the table, tied here, staring back at them with his big sack and his
eager prick, them watching it unfold even if they might not fully comprehend
or even agree on what is going to happen. At least they would know why. No one
was there for us then. His superiors even protected him when they found out.
No one was there for me when he came in the rectory when I was a boy. Noone
was there for me when he put his hand down my pants and rubbed my growing cock
as I sat frozen in fear. No boy should ever face that fear. No boy should ever
be forced to taste a cock he never wanted to see, or feel a man's hand pumping
him before he has even learned to do it to himself. There is not punishment
great enough to pay for what this priest has done. Perhaps God will punish
him. Perhaps. But I’ve waited long enough and I’m not going to wait for God to
do it for me. Eight years I’ve waited for this moment, and now I take my well-
earned revenge and I do it for me and for them.
I don’t want him bleeding to death. I want him to know what he’s lost, to feel
the embarrassment when he is found, to know that everyone knows his balls are
gone and he has been neutered. He deserves to feel the ridicule. No, I can’t
let him bleed to death, so I use his own bootlaces and make the loop in the
leather. As he watches, I pull the loop up, around his balls, up tight against
where his huge sack meets his body. I make the knot, and he watches me do it.
He is desperate, grunting, begging me, jerking on the ropes and desperately
willing me to not pull it closed. How many boys did he molest? I look him in
the eyes, and then I see the recognition. Ah, he remembered! So, now he knows
it is me and I can see the connection and its clear he knows why I am here. I
jerk it closed, and as I do he grunts and screams into the tape. I like
watching his huge hips hump the air then, his big prick getting even harder as
he feels his sack being shut closed. He’s wild now, thrusting and humping and
jerking, struggling like a madman as he feels it and knows his balls are at
risk. I smile now, along with my friends from so long ago that are at my side
in support. I double knot the leather, to make sure, and then I pull out my
Gerber and let him see the knife.
He doest like it, not at all, and starts to shake his head from side to side
and then suddenly he’s struggling even harder, if that is possible. I let him
watch the knife for a while, the blade still retracted, and yet still his eyes
are so wide open I can tell he’s in a panic. Next thing I know he’s grunting
wildly, trying to scream out something but the mumbles are not understandable.
It doesn’t matter. There is nothing he could say to undo the wrong of so many
years and to so many boys, and so as I watch his big balls, now trapped in
their sack, I know that it is right that I should take them and I almost feel
as if God is helping me to do it.
I pull open the knife, and the blade, razor sharp, snaps into view. I don’t
hesitate. I grab his big sack with my left hand, and pull out on it, the
entire bulging scrotum so big and fat and so damn full of his balls that it
almost defies description. Then I move my other hand, up next to the leather
that has trapped his balls, and then I start to make the slice with the knife
I am holding. He arches his back then and looks to the ceiling, and as I begin
the cut his jism just erupts from inside of him, splashing out and onto his
fat belly as he humps the air and feels the feeling as he starts to lose his
balls. I keep slicing, the knife working its way through his huge sack, and
the blood that flows is a little messy but its not as much as you might think.
The leather keeps the skin closed at the wound, and the bleeding is minimal.
Still holding his scrotum I work the knife, trying to time the cutting and my
wrist that is working the knife to the spasms of his last ejaculation. The
last time I saw him cum I was a boy swallowing it all, his hands on my head as
he forced it down my throat. This time as he finishes dumping the last of his
cream onto his belly, I finish the cut and his balls come free. His expression
is wide, the pain consuming him and his pleasure taken from him forever. As he
feels the end of his castration he tests the ropes even harder, and as his
balls finally come free and he sees them in my hand he starts to heave and for
a moment I think he is going to vomit. He sees them plane-as-day, knows I have
done it, and as he takes it all in, his huge sack no longer his and his balls
still quivering in my hands you can almost see the defeat as it overwhelms
him.
I drop them onto his belly, right on top of the little pool of white semen he
has pumped out onto his stomach. That’s the final straw and he grunts as he
feels his balls hit his belly, and as he stares at them I watch him continue
to hump the air like a crazed maniac, desperate perhaps to undo what has been
done. I watch him humping the air with his fat ball-less cock, and it goes on
for perhaps thirty seconds or so. But after that he just suddenly stops, and
like a balloon that has lost its air, he just collapses under the realization
of what he has lost. His balls are gone forever and then as I watch his hard
prick slowly begins to soften. I lean over just then, as he lays their
defeated and spent and unmoving, and I whisper in his ear: “Father, you don’t
deserve them. You know it too. So, not a word. You have no idea who did this
to you. Remember that, or I swear we will come back for your little dick, and
if we do, we will take it an inch at a time. You understand? May God have
mercy on your balls.” With that, I walk out the door, leaving the fat priest
on the table, his scrotum on his belly and his castrated balls inside still
quivering, unattached, within the holy sack that was only minutes ago still
his.
[comments appreciated....]
* * * |
Farewell my beloved - Part 1 | NULLIFICATION, Clitoridectomy | How a successful woman falls in the abyss but discovers a new life - part one | 1\. Children Twins, Different Adults
“Let me understand… do you really mean what I suspect you just told me?”
“I think you understood it very well, Lilli.”
Lilli stood perfectly still for a moment, staring speechless at her friend
Dora, looking at her like it was the first time she truly saw her. Dora was
her closest friend, they shared almost everything since they were children.
They were grown like sisters. More: like twins, despite their physical
differences: Lilli was slim, long legged, had a lovely, innocent face on an
oval shaped head, bright green eyes showing her curiosity about the world,
auburn straight hair and natural brilliant although a bit too tiny lips. Since
her childhood, on the other side, Dora was a miniature prototype of a
mediterranean goddess of fertility: short, round shaped, with large hips, a
bit fat ass, a mass of dark brown curly hair surrounding her round, chubby
face, a vague permanent smile on her fleshy lips, wide sweet brown eyes.
Adolescence brought them some more physical differences: as Lilli became an
even slimmer, small breasted, somehow ethereal young woman, Dora developed
heavy, large tits that looked made for milking babies, a large yet somehow
attracting body, her smiling face and even sweeter eyes suggesting a quiet,
maybe submissive mind.
They lived in door-to-door apartments since their birth, few weeks one past
the other. Same babysitters, same schools, same games, same holydays, same
friends. Despite their different complexions, their mothers, who were close
friends, encouraged them to wear similar dresses, like real twins, how they
were often told. Inseparable until the end of the high school. It was a trauma
for both of them discovering that the other wasn’t planning to share the same
college: economy for Dora, visual arts for Lilli.
For the first time since they could remember, they were separated, in
different far towns. The first two years, they regularly met for Christmas and
summer vacations. At the end of the second year, Dora announced she was about
to marry an older man she dated for some months: she had got pregnant, she
wanted that baby already growing inside her, and she wanted her baby have a
daddy. She had decided to drop her studies, going to live with her husband in
his town, even more far from Lilli’s.
It had been another shock for Lilli. Her best friend – her twin! – was about
to definitively separate from her, to start a whole new life with a husband
and a child, just the first – Lilli was sure of it – of a number of kids.
Lilli cried and sobbed for days, sad like she had suffered a definitive loss.
They occasionally exchanged letters, some sparse emails, a phone call every
three or four months. Dora had her baby; another a couple of years after, than
a third, all female. In the meantime Lilli graduated, started working in an
important factory as a creative designer, met and dropped several young and
less young men, always both physically and emotionally unsatisfied with them.
She liked men, but she hadn’t still met the right one. She liked sex as well,
but was deceived by the selfishness of almost all the men she had sex with:
not even slightly interested in her needs and desires; or at the opposite so
much engaged in giving her pleasure that she couldn’t reach it, feeling
suffocated by their obsessive goal of leading her to a climax she hardly
experienced with them.
She used to find relieve and true pleasure masturbating, while fantasizing
about her perfect man, about how he penetrated her with some caring rudeness,
focused on both his and her pleasure, giving a tangible mean to the word
“intercourse”.
Now a beautiful woman in her late 20s, Lilli was a successful and wealthy
professional, but she felt the constant lack of something. She longed the
deep, rich, wonderful relationship with Dora, that constant feeling of mutual,
immediate understanding that had been the mark of her childhood and
adolescence.
It had been a big surprise – almost another trauma – when in a lazy late
spring Sunday afternoon she was spending alone in her home, a book and a glass
of Coke as her companions, the ring had announced a visit and she had opened
the door: standing somehow shyly yet smiling in the threshold there was her…
Dora.
“Dora! – she cried jumping forward to hug her – Is it really you? I can’t
believe my eyes! What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Lilli. Guess what? I’m about to become your new neighbour… My husband has
been transferred here, and I insisted to find a home near to yours… and now
here I am” said Dora with a bright, warm smile, her sweet eyes flashing in
happiness.
They entered the home and sat in the balcony, chatting happily for hours,
telling each other ten years of life, success and defeat, joy and grief,
family events and new friendships. Dora looked genuinely happy with her life,
her husband and her children. And at the same time she felt Lilli was somehow
uncomfortable with her own affective and sexual life.
It had been at that time when Dora said something causing Lilli to jump on her
chaise longue. “W-what??? No, sure you’re kidding. It’s impossible you did
something like that”.
“No kidding, Lilli. My husband and I discussed about it for a very long time,
and we agreed this was the only way to solve our problems… Well: my own
problem”.
“But… but… there are many other options, I’m pretty sure of it. Less invasive,
less radical options, I mean. If I understand what you’re saying, you’ve
agreed to submit to a barbaric practice, something that happens only in
Africa”.
“Don’t be so sure, Lilli – Dora’s voice was still sweet, just a little hint of
sadness in her words. – I’m not the first European woman who submitted to this
practice, and sure I won’t be the last. I’m in a quite large company, you
know. It’s just a fact people don’t like to discuss about, let alone to admit
they’re involved in first person.”
An astonished silence fell between them. Dora stood quietly, giving her friend
the time to realize her statement. Lilli was struggling to fully understand
what Dora was talking about, genuinely horrified yet somehow fascinated.
Eventually she recovered her voice. “Would… would you mind to show me it?” she
asked in a flushed whisper, not even believing she was asking for it to her
“twin”.
“It’s not something I walk around showing to everybody. But you aren’t just
‘people’, so there’s no problem. But please, just look; touch if you want, ask
questions, but don’t judge. I’m not a monster, I’m just Dora. Yes, something
has changed in my body, of course, and in my mind as well. But remember I
choose it, and now I’m happy with it”.
Dora stood up, slowly lifting her long skirt up to her waist and pulling down
her large, simple white cotton panties, kicking them away and sitting again,
legs wide open, on the edge of the chair. Her pubis well in sight, she held
her fat thighs, letting Lilli to see in full light how she had been changed in
her most private parts.
Lilli looked fascinated at that smooth surface, where nothing laid of what
usually is visible between women’s legs. Just a tiny, perfectly healed white
scar in the middle, a little hole at its base… nothing more. Lilli felt tears
in her eyes. “Oh, Dora, honey, how could you…”
“Shhh… shhh… I warned you: don’t judge. And don’t be sad for me, I’m perfectly
happy, my life has dramatically improved since I let this happen.”
“I can’t believe it. How can it be better being mutilated, deprived of your
sex? What about your pleasure? What about your sexual life?”
Dora slowly closed her legs, letting her skirt fall covering her legs. She
relaxed on the chair, stared at her friend and spoke with her calm, ringing
voice, every hint of sadness suddenly vanished: “My sexual life is richest
than ever, Lilli. My husband and I have sex more frequently and more
satisfying than before my modification… ‘infibulation’ is the right word… and
we are very happy. We love each other more intensely than ever, in a way I
couldn’t even imagine before.”
“But… but… your sex is sealed, is nullified…” Lilli was fighting for the right
words, overwhelmed by Dora’s revelation.
“My vagina is sealed, yes. But my ass and mouth are always ready to receive my
adored husband’s manhood. And the pleasure I can give him that way is my own
pleasure.”
Lilli’s pale face showed her disbelief and her confusion. “You’ve got no more
clitoris – she managed to go on after a silence – so you can’t feel any
pleasure. No clitoris, no orgasm, right?”
“Right, sweetie. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be gifted with other kinds of
pleasure. My mind gets very excited and glad every time my husband discharges
his semen into by body, especially in my mouth. And my heart is every time
full of love. It isn’t an orgasm as usually it’s meant, but it’s something
comparable to it.”
“We couldn’t afford another pregnancy, – Dora went on – so we decided, after
our third daughter was born, we had to stop it.”
“This is something I can understand. But there are other ways, from
contraceptives such condoms or pills to sterilization. You have destroyed your
sex instead.”
“You don’t see the point – Dora retorted. – My husband’s religion forbids him
to use contraceptives of any kind. And I didn’t want to be sterilized. I want
be able to give birth to more babies, if we can afford the costs”.
Lilli’s eyes wide opened in disbelief. “And you accepted such a butchery
because of you husband’s religion? I can’t accept it. Our bodies are more
sacred than all those stupid religions.”
Dora said nothing. She just stood up, joined her friend and slowly lifted
Lilli’s t-shirt until her breasts popped up. “And what about this and your
sacred body?” she asked in a slightly reproaching tone of voice while playing
with a tiny golden piercing ring dangling from Lilli’s left nipple.
“What? But this is just… just…” Lilli’s voice faded while she looked at the
ring like it was the first time she saw it.
“This ring is a violation of your temple, Lilli. Just like my infibulation.
When you let your nipple being pierced, you confessed me that it had turned
almost numb, and that you never could lactate a baby from it. So, you modified
your sacred body in a very similar to a mutilation way, you can’t deny it.”
Overwhelmed, Lilli stood still and silent for quite a while, then eventually
sighed and reluctantly admitted: “You’re right, Dora. But it was just a
nipple, not my vagina…” Her voice sounded unsure, her mind was full of doubts.
And, despite all her feelings, her sex was becoming more and more aroused.
Slowly, very slowly, both women regained their balance. For Dora it was time
to go. “I’ll move to this building next week. I’ve still a lot of things to
pack. I hope my revelation will not affect our relationship. I love you,
Lilli, you know it.”
Already a bit confused, fighting with her conflicting feelings, Lilli
reassured her. “Just a last question. After that I’ll drop this subject. Why
did you tell me about your… erm… infibulation?”
“Because you’re my best friend since we were born, Lilli. And because I think
you should think about it. It could be the right answer to your sexual and
affective problems.”
“What? Oh, no, it’s impossible. I couldn’t even imagine being mutilated and
sewed like you. No way I could accept something like that on my own body.”
“Think about it – Dora repeated. – There are different levels of intervention.
We’ll discuss about them when you’ll be ready to deal with this subject. Maybe
you’ll change your mind.”
1\. To be continued
* * * |
Benin - Roman slave boy part.2. | GAY, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Part .2 of Benin's story is about being sold to his new master. | Benin ľ Roman Slave Boy Part.2.
Sale and a new master.
If you are offended by stories of young boys, who are abused and beaten, do
not read this story. This story is not factual, but is based on historical
readings from the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire.
Benin and the other boys waited patiently, shuffling their feet and feeling
nervous.
ôMedianö said Benin, ôI am hungry, I have not eaten since early this morning.ö
ôYou will not get anything, my boy, if you are lucky your new master will feed
you, if not you will go hungryö said Median.
Median peered through the curtains, watching the clients arrive, and noted
where the senator and the merchants were seated, he told Benin ô do not forget
what I have told you, rub your cock so it grows before you go into the room
and thrust your hips forward to make you look more desirable , the more
passive you look the better, the man in the first couch is a senator and the
men in the third and fourth couches are merchants, put your display on for
them, the rest are brothel keepers, just stand and do just what you have to,
and do not smile.ö
Benin nodded in agreement.
The two slim young men, who had helped prepare the boys with make-up and dress
appeared, they were both naked, and to Beninĺs astonishment were painted all
over with gold paint, they, evidently were the cabaret, they were to perform
an exotic dance to get the clients in the right mood. The two men, performed
for the clients and returned some 15 minutes later, covered in sweat. The time
had now arrived for the slaves to enter, each slave boy, chain round their
necks were dragged forward into the large room and were lead around the room
at a trotting pace, making four circuits, then as rehearsed they were led onto
the dais, their chains removed, all the boys put their hands over their heads
and turned slowly in unison. The fat man smiled, as the boys performed as
directed. Having turned several times they were told to stop. The scribe
hurried over and passed the details of the first boy to the fat man, who of
course was Benin, he extolled Beninĺs virtues, his slim body, finely muscled
torso, his slim waist, his shaped legs with good calf muscles. How he would
make an excellent personal servant, with the correct training, the fat man
pointed out the wheals on his buttocks, he learns quickly he told the clients
.Benin was then instructed to step down from the dais and approach the first
client, The senator.
Beninĺs cock was straining at his garment, he felt strangely excited and
nervous. He walked forward and knelt in front of the senator, and kissed his
feet, the senator leant forward and took hold of Beninĺs hair, firmly but
gently pulling the boy to his feet. He ran his hands over the boy, this
excited Benin, and he could feel his cock straining even more at his garment,
the senator took hold of a string at the side and pulled, undoing the tie,
then the other side and the garment fell to the floor. Beninĺs cock stood up
straight, he could feel the sap rising within him, the senator continued his
inspection, stroking Beninĺs cock, Benin began to breathe heavily as he fought
against his feelings, pre-cum dripped out of his cock. The senator smiled and
remarked how hot the boy was for his age. Benin was then passed to the next
client, a tall thin black bearded brothel keeper, who drooled at Benin, He
grabbed Beninĺs balls, and squeezed, the pain seared through his body, but at
least his cock went down, the brothel keeper turned Benin around and had the
boy bend over, he pushed with his fingers against Beninĺs sphincter, again
painful until the fingers were fully inserted, he twisted his fingers, which
again produced pain to Benin, who was not liking this one little bit, Benin
was passed down the line, the brothel keepers gave the more intimate
inspections, by the time Benin reached the merchants, he found it difficult to
smile but did his best.
The remaining slaves were still waiting patiently, they were all told to kneel
down, except Benin who was returned to the dais, and the bidding began, the
fat man extolling Beninĺs virtues, twisting his body this way and that, he
asked for bids of 20,000 scersterces to start, one of the merchants bid this
amount then the senator bid 22,000, one of the brothel keepers bid 25,000,
until finally Benin was sold for 33,000 scersterces to the senator. A handsome
price, the fat man beamed with delight. Benin smiled as he was lead over to
the senator, the chain having been put round his neck again, and handed to the
senator, Benin immediately dropped to his knees in front of the senator, and
kissed his new masterĺs feet, the senator pulled the boy up, and had him stand
to his side, placing a hand on Beninĺs buttocks and felt the wheals on his
cheeks. He was pleased with his purchase, and thought whether he would keep
him for himself or give him to his 12 year old son.
Benin looked around him, as the next boy was brought down for inspection, it
was the 11 year old, who looked very apprehensive. The senator waved him past,
so he went to the brothel keeper, who licked his lips as the small boy stood
in front of him, he told the boy to remove his garment, he fumbled with the
ties, so the man ripped the garment from him, this stunned the boy who looked
sheepishly at the towering man, his examination was exhaustive, every part of
his body examined in every detail, every orifice explored. The boy was passed
along the line. Benin noticed that there were young boys serving at the tables
of the clients, he recognised one, who had carried water in the baths earlier
in the day, this time he wore a tunic, gathered at the waist with rope, the
tunic rode up his legs exposing the lower cheeks of his buttocks, the boy
looked exhausted, but had to serve, as was his destiny. The 11 year old was
knocked down to a brothel keeper, poor little wretch, Benin thought. The sale
continued, more food and wine was offered to the clients, the senator gave
Benin some grapes, much to Beninĺs delight.
Next on the block was the black boy, some 14 years old, he was passed to the
other end of the line and inspections began, eventually he came in front of
the senator, now naked, he was probably the only boy who at 14 was of legal
age in Rome, and was classed as an adult. The senator inspected the boy,
having him kneel before him as he thrust his fingers in the boyĺs mouth,
feeling his teeth, running his hands over the boyĺs head, feeling the bumps,
there was a belief that prominate bumps in the right places on the head was a
sign of intelligence. The senator continued, feeling the boys pectoral
muscles, playing with his nipples, passing down to his belly, probing the
muscles, then he stroked the boyĺs cock, this had the desired effect of the
boyĺs cock rising up hard, he weighed his balls, then explored his anus. The
boy was a fine specimen of young adulthood, lean and muscular, his cock was a
good 7ö long by this time, he would obviously make a good breeding slave. The
bidding began, the senator wanted the boy, and pushed the bidding to 40,000
scercestes , and secured him , so he had purchased two new slaves at immense
cost, more money than Benin had thought existed. More food and wine was
produced and the sale took another hour or so to finish. The fat man thanked
all the clients, not all had purchased, but there would be plenty of other
opportunities, he was pleased with the result as he collected the money and
the scribe issued bills of sale.
The senator asked for the boyĺs costumes to be fitted to his new acquisitions
for the journey home. The two boys were led out , a slave on each chain to
their new masterĺs carriage, they were secured to the back of the carriage
with rope around their necks, their hands tied behind their backs, the
carriage was pulled by two horses, driven by a Nubian slave. The master got
into the carriage and gave the order to start, the horses began a steady trot,
the two boys having to run to keep up, the bells on the costumes making a
rhythmic sound, although it was now early evening, the son lowering in the
sky, the temperature was still very warm, the boys soon produced copious
amounts of sweat, which ran down their backs. The boys received many admiring
looks as they toiled to keep up, the more adventurous citizens of Rome,
shouted lewd comments. They had been going some 20 to 25 minutes just leaving
the outskirts of Rome, when the senator gave the order to speed up, the horses
broke into a faster trot, the boys had no choice but to increase their speed,
their legs ached, the sweat filling their eyes, as they pounded the earth,
after a further 10 minutes, the pace slackened and they entered a driveway, a
resplendent villa before them, they pulled up in front and stopped, both boys
gasping for breath, as they tried to get more air into their lungs.
Benin sank to his knees exhausted. The senator alighted from the carriage and
walked round to the back, seeing Benin slumped to the floor, he screamed at
him to get up, he was not allowed to rest on the floor, the senator told him
he would be punished for such an act. Benin struggled up, several slaves came
out of the villa and unhitched the two boys and took them into the house. As
the senator entered his 12 years old son ran to his father, ôfather, fatherö
he cried. And jumped up at his father, hugging him around his neck. The father
kissed his boy on the cheeks and hugged him. ôI have purchased your first
slave my boyö said the senator.ö Oh father, thank-you, which one is mine, ô
The younger of the two boys, the light skinned oneö said the senator
ôCan I have him now fatherö he said
ôNot yet my son, he has to be trained first, besides he needs punishing, as he
rested without permission perhaps that could be your first lesson on how to
treat slaves if they misbehaveö said the senator.
ôShow me how fatherö cried the boy.
ôVery wellö said the senator. He beckoned to a slave standing close by, who
brought him a selection of canes.
ôFirst, choose the cane you think fits the crime, the thinnest stings the
most, then a thicker one for more serious crimes, and the very thickest will
produce the most pain, but is more difficult to use, we will start with the
thinnest caneö.
He swung the cane through the air; it made a fine swishing sound.
ôFirst get the slave to bend over and grasp his ankles, before that tell him
to take off his costume, it is always best to punish them naked, make sure he
bends fully over, so the skin on his buttocks is nice and firm, now take aim
like thisö he told his son, bringing the cane up high, make sure you look at
the point you wish to strike, then bring it down with full force, striking his
buttocks, like soö
The cane whipped through the air and landed in the middle of Beninĺs buttocks,
he screamed as the pain seared through his body, ôNow you try my boy,
remembering to take aim, look at the point on his body you wish to strike,
raise the cane and bring it down hard, and then make sure you follow through,
so he takes the full force of the strokeö, instructed the senator
The boy took up position and took aim, raised the cane and brought it down on
Benin, the cane struck Benin at the top of his legs just where the buttocks
meet, Benin again screamed.
ôIs that where you wanted to strike your slave ôasked father.
ôNo said the boy, I wanted it higher upö
ôTry again, but this time take steady aim and keep looking at the point you
wish to strikeö instructed the father.
The boy took careful aim, steadied himself, and struck Benin a vicious blow,
the cane bit into Beninĺs skin, crossing the first wheal the father had made,
Benin screamed out loud, tears welled up in his eyes.
ôMuch better my boyö praised the father, ôthat is enough for to-night, I am
sure you will have many opportunities to practiseö.
ôThank-you fatherö said the boy.
At that moment Benin started to stretch up.
ôThere, said the father, you have another opportunity to punish your slave, he
has moved without being given permission, you can do it tomorrow, for to-night
he and my new slave will bed down with Tebius and there instruction can begin
tomorrow.ö
ôBut fatherö exclaimed his son, I was hoping to take my new slave to my
quarters, so I can get to know him better, please, please father.ö
ôOh very well, but I will post a guard outside your room, we do not know if
the new slave can be trusted yet, if there is any signs of trouble, call the
guard.ö said his father.
The senator took the black slave boy to Tebius.
Benin followed the boy, who at a year younger than himself, wielded power over
him, Benin felt dejected and betrayed by Median, who had led him to believe
the senator would be a good master, but now he was in the hands of his son,
who he feared would gain joy of inflicting pain on Benin.
The trio walked down a corridor and entered a large room, with a huge bed on
one wall, a bath in the corner, fine drapes hanging from the shutters,
embroided couches and cushions were placed around the room, and Benin thought
his whole house could fit in this one room. The guard entered the room and
closed and locked the shutters, bowed to the senatorĺs son and stood guard
outside.
ôMy name is Plautius, I am the son of senator Crasus, my father has the ear of
emperor Tiberius and is a powerful member of the senate, now you are my slave
boy, and you will call me master.ö Said Plautius.
ôYes masterö replied Benin.
ôHave you a name slaveö enquired Plautius.
ôBenin, master,ö he replied.
ôI may call you that or I might change it, I will give it some thoughtö said
Plautius
Plautius reclined on a couch, looking at the naked Benin standing in front of
him.
ôYou are dirty, slave, why are you so dirty and grimyö enquired Plautius
ôI was running behind the carriage from the slave market to here, master, the
sweat ran down my body and the dirt came off the road masterö. Replied Benin.
ôYou ran all the way from Rome, ô questioned Plautius, ôthat is a long way, is
that why you collapsed on the floor when you arrived.ö
ôYes masterö said Benin.
ôCome closer, and turn roundö instructed Plautius,
Benin walked closer and turned so his back was facing him, Plautius touched
Beninĺs buttocks, feeling the bruising and the wheals created by his
punishment. This caused Benin some pain as he pinched and prodded the boy.
ôYou have colourful cheeks slaveö said Plautius, ôI like the yellow and
blue/black of the bruising and the way the wheals stand out, and I am to
punish you again tomorrow, I will look forward to that, I wonder how many
strokes I will give you, two, three, maybe more, I will punish you after
school, in the afternoon, I will bring my school friends with me, they can
witness your punishment, you also can look forward to receiving more pain.ö
Benin shuffled his feet and felt apprehensive at the prospect, but did manage
to reply a submissive,ö yes master.ö
ôGuard! Guard!ö called Plautius.
The Nubian slave ran in brandishing his sword.
ôAll is well, my friend, just go down below and tell the slaves to turn the
wheel, so I can run some water for a bath, and tell the kitchen I am hungry
and to prepare some food.ö Said Plautius.
ôYes sir masterö replied the slave, and scurried out of the room.
ôIn future boy, you must reply to me as yes sir master, rather than yes
master, do you understand boyö Plautius commanded.
ôYes sir masterö Benin replied
ôCome ô said Plautius, Benin followed his master over to the large marble
bath, Plautius slid a metal panel to one side, and water flowed into the bath,
Benin was amazed, not knowing he would soon be well acquainted with the method
of pushing the water from the hot springs below the villa up into the baths,
this was done by a slave on a treadmill deep below the villa.
As the bath filled, Plautius instructed Benin to remove his clothing, his
tunic was made from the finest cloth, and embroided with fine stitching, cream
in colour with green piping, his sandals were of the finest soft leather, his
undergarments of pure silk. Benin removed these items and the boy stood naked,
he was not fat but appeared to have little or no muscle, his cock was smaller
than Beninĺs, only 3 inches long.
ôHelp me into the bath boy, ô said Plautius ,
Benin took hold of the boyĺs arm as he sat down in the water, ôNow wash me,
with this cloth and pummis stone, but gently boy.
ôYes masterö replied Benin.
ôOh dear oh dear said Plautius, you forgot the sir!, that means extra strokes
for tomorrow slave boyö.
Benin was dismayed at this, he was tired, hungry and lonely, and he was no
match for the intellect of Plautius, who acted older than his years, he had a
sharp brain and was obviously well educated.
ôSay it boyö shouted Plautius. ôYes! Sir! Master! Pausing between each word.
ôYes sir masterö Benin replied,
ôIf I beat you, will you learnö Plautius asked.
ôYes sir masterö replied Benin
The bathing continued, the guard knocked on the door, Plautius beckoned him
in, ôyour victuals have arrived, masterô he said.
ôSend it in ô said Plautius.
A young girl entered, she was about 15 to 16 years old, she wore a tiny
costume, covering her genitals, she had a fine gold chain around her neck,
from which two smaller chains hung, the ends of which were attached to her
nipples. A string of bells was attached to her right ankle. Benin thought she
was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he could not help but stare at
her. But he was brought up with a jolt as Plautius hit him across the back of
his head.ö You are attending to me slaveö he barked,ö do you want me to add
even more strokes for tomorrowĺs punishment. ô
ôNo sir masterö Benin replied.
Benin finished bathing Plautius, and helped him out of the bath and he was
given a towel to dry his master, which he did very thoroughly, he was then
told to get in the bath himself and to make sure he cleansed himself well.
Plautius sat on the couch nearest the food, which smelt wonderful, it was
roasted skylark, basted in honey, with fine vegetables, fruit, sweetmeats and
other items too exotic to identify. Benin could smell the delicious food,
which made him feel even hungrier, but Plautius tucked into the many dishes
laid before him. Benin finished his bath and towelled himself dry. He was told
to stand in front of Plautius and wait until he had finished his food, both
boys were naked, Benin could feel the ache in his stomach, which was crying
out for food, but he just waited patiently, Plautius taking no notice of him.
After some 10 to 15 minutes Plautius finished, he did not offer Benin anything
but just told him to turn down his bed, Plautius clambered onto his bed and
laid down on his back, he then beckoned Benin to join him, who warily laid
next to his master,
ôSuck my cock slaveö Plautius commanded.
Benin had never done anything like this before, but took his masterĺs cock in
his mouth and began to suck, Plautius took hold of Beninĺs head and thrust it
down on his cock, which grew to a larger size, Benin was made to suck, his
masterĺs cock now at itĺs longest length, as Plautius pulled Beninĺs head
down, his cock almost going down Beninĺs throat, Benin choked but kept
sucking, then he felt his masters hips jerk and great streams of cum filled
his mouth, he could taste it, salty and creamy. Plautius withdrew his cock,
Benin looked at his master still holding the hot cum in his mouth. ôSwallow it
slaveö Plautius told him, Benin struggled but swallowed the creamy liquid, his
stomach reached but he kept it down.
ôNow clean my cock with your tongue slave boyö
Benin did as he was told, and licked his masterĺs cock, until no cream
remained. Plautius then put his foot in Beninĺs groin and pushed him off his
bed onto the floor, telling him ônow your stomachĺs full you can sleep on the
floor.ö He laughed heartily at his own humour.
Benin laid on the hard marble floor, he could not get his naked body
comfortable in this uncompromising position, his master was sleeping soundly,
his belly full and obviously feeling content from having his sac emptied of
cum. Beninĺs hunger was getting the better of him, his belly ached for food,
his mouth dry from lack of liquid, he felt miserable, cold and lonely. He then
remembered the food his master had left and thought about eating the remains,
but thought better of it, but the hunger pains got worse, he had not eaten all
day, his stomach had been emptied earlier in the day, he felt his navel was
touching his backbone, then hunger got the better of him. The food left by his
master was on the other side of the room, so he crept on all fours round the
bottom of the bed, the light had faded and it was difficult to see with the
shutters closed. He groped around until he found the wooden platters with the
remains of the food, he scooped up the food and pushed it in his mouth, then
carelessly he let one of the plates slip to the floor, it landed with a crash.
ôGuard! Guard! Plautius cried, as he awoke with the noise. The guard rushed
in, carrying an oil lamp, Benin trying to devour the food as quickly as
possible.
Plautius sat up in his bed, and peered at Benin.öYou are a thief he cried,
take him away guard, I will deal with him tomorrowö shouted Plautius. The
guard led Benin out of the room taking him to Tebiusĺs room, where he would
spend a restless night, hoping tomorrow would never come.
* * * |
Mehemet II | GAY, TESTICLES, fuck then cut | The surgeon at the Ottoman court enjoys the boys before he castrates them. | ` The Duties and Pleasures of the Court Surgeon – Part II `
Once again let me introduce myself. I am Ahmed, surgeon for Sultan Mehemet. As
well as the regular duties which a surgeon is expected to perform, there are
those special ones which are the subject of these accounts. Now some say that
I take pleasure in pain. That may be so. But I am also very skilled at my
craft, and I have considerable status as a result.
My patient today is to be a very special one indeed. He is the one of the
Sultan’s favorite bed boys. A certain few of us know that sometimes His
Highness tires of the harem and has a boy brought to his chambers for his
enjoyment. But this boy is starting to mature and His Highness wants to keep
him sleek and smooth for a while longer. Furthermore he was seen feeling the
breasts of one of the young servant girls. So he is being sent to me.
My house and surgery are only a stone’s-thrown from Topkapi Palace. It is mid-
afternoon and two of the palace retainers have brought him to me. He is a
beautiful boy with olive skin and long curly hair. His lips are full and his
cheeks still smooth – the way His Highness wants to keep him! He is familiar
with sexual games and they have not told him why he is here. So I proceed with
the deceit. First I blindfold him – he thinks this is a game. I remove his
outer garments and when I turn him around he thrusts his buttocks toward me. I
am sorely tempted to take him – but I do not dare. Would that I could feel his
lips and tongue on my cock. And spread those golden buttocks to sample the
delights found between them. But he is to return to the palace. And someday
his tongue will tell what happened here. Then I would be the one stretched out
on my back with my legs spread for the castration knife!
So I take his hand and lead him to my surgery. As we go I untie his loincloth
and it falls behind him. He opens his legs willingly as I lay him back on the
table. He does not resist as the surgical cuffs go on his arms and legs and
the restraining band across his belly. He has been a toy for the Sultan’s
pleasure and that of his guests So he suspects nothing.
I had another of these boys in my surgery a few weeks ago. One of the Sultan’s
guests wanted him screaming as he was fucked. So once he had his cock in the
boy he grabbed him by the balls and squeezed. They said they could hear him
shrieking down the hall. A testicle burst in the man’s hand, and I had to
remove it.
I take the soap and water to cleanse him thoroughly – for the surgery of
course. I bring warm water and lather my hands with soap. My hands soap his
belly and his sexual organs thoroughly. The warm water and the soap and my
hands make him erect. So this is why His Highness wants him gelded. He is
developing male urges. The Sultan wants him passive, like a girl, on his back
with his legs pulled up. Or on his belly with his buttocks thrust upward to be
split by the cock. Not growing hair and trying to screw the servant girls! I
try his anus. It relaxes easily letting my finger in, then tightens around it,
squeezing. He is smooth and hairless. He knows how to take a man. My own cock
is hard wanting to fuck this boy. But I cannot.
As I check and wash his sexual organs I will explain why he is here. My
fingers find his testicles to make sure they have descended into his scrotum.
“Welcome my boy. I am the Royal Surgeon. His Highness has decreed that you are
to be castrated”.
With these words his cock starts to shrivel! Suddenly he understands and
begins to wail.
He pleads with me, as I knew he would. He offers me his mouth. He will lick my
cock. He will kneel between my legs, take my balls into his mouth and suck
them. I can come in his mouth. Or he will bend over for me. Don’t I want his
ass? Men like how tight he is and squeezing his balls. He begs me…
“Please don’t cut me, please. Please fuck me … please just fuck me.”
He cannot see me because of the blindfold, but his tongue comes out and his
mouth opens. His tongue licks, he begs for my cock to suck…
źou can hurt me. Please…squeeze my balls and make me cry. You can slap my face
while I suck you. Please fuck me. Please hurt me. Please Master, please don’t
cut my balls off.
Instead I touch his cock with the cold steel of the knife, and he begins to
scream. His testicles are drawn up tight to his body. I find them with my
fingers and pull them away. It is time! I will explain each step in the
surgery to him as I perform it.
I remove the blindfold so that I can watch his face during my work, and so he
can see the man that is taking away his masculinity. I let him watch as I take
the stone and put a keen edge on my surgical knives.
“First I slit open your scrotum”, I explain. He tries frantically to pull away
from my hands reaching between his legs. But of course the restraints hold him
fixed and helpless. I stretch his scrotum and slit it top to bottom. The
muscles in his thighs and belly flex beautifully in his pain.
“Now I am squeezing your nuts out from inside their sack. Ah yes, they are
nice and white. I don’t cut your nuts. Just the cords.”
His testicles lie on my hand, and I stretch the cords. Such a beautiful boy!
Did His Highness ever milk his semen from him? He did touch that girl’s
breasts. He is probably too young to have spread her legs. Perhaps he has a
sister who showed him her body. Now he will pleasure only men.
Tears stream down his cheeks and he cries pitifully as I raise the blade to
his genitals again. A slice of the knife, a loud cry from the boy, and he is
gelded. I hold his severed testicles up for him to see though his tears.
They will bring him back in two weeks and he will lie here again. I will check
his empty ‘purse’ and ensure that the wound has healed. Then I will pronounce
him fit to again service the Sultan and his guests. Perhaps I have done him a
favour. No man will ever again squeeze his balls to hear him scream.
Tonight I will require satisfaction. I will have one of the young captives
that I have not yet cut, brought. There’s a boy of about thirteen that I have
been teaching how to service me properly. But he is becoming boring. Perhaps I
will want to hear him screaming as I fuck him…
* * * |
Thecia's De-Ball Ball | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Thecia meets with other cutters. Adult fiction not for minors.. Tin miners are allowed. | **
Thecia’s De-Ball Ball
My name is Thecia and I’m a 31-year-old female "cutter."
For the last four years, I’ve been going to the Testicle Festival at the Rock
Creek lodge in MT. There is a lot of drinking, nudity and a great time. A
little rough for my tastes but fun none the less. For the last two years a few
friends and a few other "Cutters" have been going. No cutting goes on there,
it’s just a fun name for an all out festival.
Last year, another cutter (Marissa) and I decided to have our own ball after
the event. It was to be called the De-Ball Ball. Through networking we managed
to find eight other cutters. Four women and four men, including my friend
Digger who is retired from it, but has cut quite a few. We all agreed to bring
willing clients. We were to have a nice dinner and then a few contests in our
chosen avocation.
The festival was fun. Our own ball started with dinner, the clients ate with
the cutters. The appetizer was a plate of young bull testicles. They were
prepared by peeling the outer membrane, slicing them into 1/8-inch slices,
marinating them, breading them and then deep-frying them. They were served
with a soy sauce dip. They were wonderful. The next course was oyster stew
(real oyster’s not rocky mountain ones). The oysters look a little like cooked
balls. The rest of the meal was normal, prime rib or chicken. Wine flowed
freely.
The first activity was a ball tug of war, to decide who was the first to be
cut. Two of the clients, straight men, were tied with nylon rope around their
balls, there was about six feet of rope between them. The winner would be
nutted slowly and carefully with pain medication, the loser would be part of
the "fastest nutting" contest. The men pulled back and forth for almost a
half-hour. The blond man seemed to be winning, but his balls looked ready to
pop. To my surprise each man grew a respectable hard-on. Finally the black
haired man was pulled out of the circle by his stretched ball sack, all the
while screaming.
Except for their balls being a little swollen and their sacks rubbed raw, both
men were not much the worse for wear.
Next came the biggest ball contest between the clients. The man with the
biggest set would also be exempted from the fastest cutting contest. The male
cutters just looked, but the females hefted each set and pulled the sack down
and even played with the balls. Finally a gay man was chosen. His balls were
truly huge and to boot he had a dick like a horse. If he wasn’t gay, I might
have tried him on for size right then and there.
The fastest contest was to begin. The entrance fee was $500. with all the
proceeds going to the winner. It was to be timed, from the cutter standing two
feet away to both balls in a jar. Only five entered. Marissa, myself, a tiny
woman named Lori, a male named Mike and a cutter from NY named Barbara. It was
agreed that we would drain the men first. Some of the women did the release
because men, even cutters, have a hang up about touching cocks.
The five men were lined up, I used my velvet glove but others used other means
to empty the guy's loaded balls. Marissa went right down and sucked her guy
off, as did Lori. The one male cutter in the contest had another female drain
his guy.
I’m 31 years old and I’ve been around a little, but, I’ll never get over how
much cum a guy who’s about to be nutted spews. I figure a regular guy puts out
a half-ounce or so, but these guys put out stream after stream, at least
triple the amount. Each load shot onto the table, except for Marissa’s guy,
she swallowed every drop.
The men were prepped and those who asked for it were given locals to ease the
pain. They were all placed in an all fours position with their knees spread
and they were gagged to keep the screaming down. We were to cut one at a time
so the timeing could be accurate. We had drawn straws for position, I was to
be last.
The male cutter went first, he pulled the client’s scrotum to him, sliced each
side, popped the nuts out and sliced each cord. It took him over two minutes.
Lori was less subtle, she pulled his sack sliced it down the middle, grabbed
both nuts and hacked the cords off. Her time was about 40 seconds. Barbara was
next, she was an obvious amateur, and her bumbling cut took over two minutes
and left blood everywhere. Lori and I had to intervene to stem the bleeding.
Marissa went next, her methods were far more time effective then the others.
She simply pulled his sack away from his body and brought a straight razor
across the neck of his scrotum. The whole thing came off in her hand in less
than fifteen seconds. She was the one to beat.
I was planing to use a method I had only used once before. A monofiliment
fishing line with a wooden handle on each end. A garrote of sorts. When the
timer said go and I stepped forward, my client yelled "No" into the gag and
tried to crawl away. The judges decided that I could re start as it was an
unfair beginning. This time his hands and ankles were tied securely,
preventing any movement. His large balls were now hanging two feet in front of
my face. On the next go signal I moved to him and without touching his balls I
wrapped the cord around the top of his sack and pulled with all of my
strength. The fishing line went through his sack, ducts and blood vessels like
it was all just so much butter. In the quiet room you could hear his big set
of balls hit the table with a quite audible plop. I grabbed the bag, turned it
over into the jar and was done in eleven seconds. I collected the $2500 prize
over protests. I pointed out that the rules were simple, fasted time sack to
jar.
One S & M guy wanted his balls stomped to death. Marissa was all over that.
They put on a spectacle for the rest of us. She tied his nutsack with the same
rope and pulled it out as far as it would go. She took her shoes off and
proceeded to step on his exposed balls. She actually stood with all of her
weight (about 130 pounds) on them with out a rupture. The man screamed into
his gag but also loved it. She had him lift his belly off of the floor and
Lori reached his hard cock and started working it. Marissa continued to roll
his almost flat balls under her feet. When he finally began to shoot his
rather large load, Marissa stomped on his nuts one at a time. Each time she
was rewarded with a loud pop as each ball ruptured. Without missing a beat,
she grabbed his sack and hacked it off with the same razor she had used
earlier. She upended that sack and dumped the remains into a jar. They looked
more like mush than balls.
The rest of the party got a little (sexually) wild. I think everybody got laid
or at least came in some way. Lori, who was only five foot tall and weighed
about 95 pounds, started it. She decided that she wanted to fuck every client
there (the ones who still had balls) before they were cut. With all the wine
flowing we all kind of got into it.
I did get to try the guy with the huge cock before we nutted him. He swore he
was gay, but I got his motor running. It was a good fantasy, but as it turned
out I couldn’t handle him. I’m built kind of small down there. His huge cock
hit bottom and hurt like hell. Tiny Lori finished him for me. As small as she
is she slid down that pole and engulfed every inch. I have no Idea where she
put it. When he had shot his second and final load, I cut his balls off.
When the night ended we had 32 balls in neat little jars and a couple of
scrotums to boot.
We stayed another day at the inn. The following morning we all had breakfast
together at a brunch. I had a cheese omelet, bacon, toast and coffee.
DeBalling makes me hungry.
Marissa, being a nurse volunteered to stay until all the "clients" were
ambulatory.
Respectfully Submitted
Thecia
**
* * * |
Dans un bocal | GAY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | Comment un petit paquet d'organes masculins fut tranché entre mes jambes et gît maintenant dans un bocal de formol. | ` Je suis désœuvré ce soir. Affalé sur mon canapé, le dos courbé et les genoux
écartés, silencieux dans la pénombre de mon appartement. Mon pantalon, au
niveau de la braguette, forme une bosse molle. J'y mets paresseusement la main
et l'enfonce, profondément, jusqu'à aplatir le tissu entre les deux cuisses.
Il n'y a plus rien là-dessous. Cela fait un an depuis mon émasculation. `
Ce qui avait été là, ce qui avait été une verge et des testicules, était
maintenant à quelques kilomètres d'ici, dans la même ville, dans l'appartement
de Franck, sur la troisième étagère d'une vieille armoire normande, posé au
fond d'un bocal. Le paquet gisait sans doute mollement, écrasé sur le fond du
récipient, maintenu dans son état immuable par le formol qui remplissait le
bocal. Ou peut-être Franck l'avait sorti, le regardait, peut-être le montrait-
il comme un trophée à l'un de ses amis. Le paquet d'organes se soulevait alors
péniblement, flottait quelques instants dans le liquide, avant de retomber en
quelques rebonds lents sur le fond du bocal.
Moi, pendant ce temps, je caressais le plat entre mes cuisses, et je repensais
à tout ce qui m'avait amené là.
* * *
J'avais connu Franck il y a plus d'un an, presque deux. Je l'avais vu depuis
la fenêtre de mon appartement, appuyé sur une rambarde, quelques étages plus
bas. Il avait la tête rasée, portait un marcel blanc qui moulait un torse
musclé et des épaules larges, et un pantalon de jogging d'un bleu très clair.
J'étais descendu tout de suite, nous avions discuté et en étions rapidement
venus à des choses explicites. Il m'avait demandé si je saurais me soumettre à
un vrai mâle, et je lui avais répondu que, si c'était le cas, je saurais le
reconnaître et reconnaître son droit. " Tu le verras bien " lui avais-je
promis en susurrant dans son oreille, penché dans le creux de son épaule " si
tu parviens à me mettre à genou devant toi, et à mettre ton organe entre mes
dents, je te serai totalement et inconditionnellement obéissant ".
Nous étions allé chez lui. Pour faire durer le jeu, nous avions pris quelques
verres d'alcool fort et, enhardi par l'ivresse, avions continué à théoriser
sur la soumission absolue que devait le mâle faible au mâle dominant, et sur
le fait que ce dernier se reconnaissait aisément par son organe.
Et puis nous nous étions déshabillés. Il avait baissé lentement son pantalon.
J'étais tout excité par le frottement du tissu sur ses cuisses fortes et
duvetées. Il portait un boxer blanc, fait d'une sorte de latex, qui moulait sa
bite puissante et dure. Quand il l'abaissa à son tour, il découvrit un sexe
long, raide et volumineux, qui pointait tout droit vers moi.
J'étais hypnotisé par cet engin, et par l'homme qui le portait, debout devant
moi. " Je t'avais promis d'être honnête " dis-je en m'agenouillant devant lui.
" Je reconnais mon maître à son organe, et je me soumets totalement à lui et à
ses volontés ". J'ouvris mes lèvres et pris son gland écarlate entre mes
dents. Ses deux mains se refermèrent sur l'arrière de mon crâne et il enfonça
sa verge au fond de mon palet.
C'est ainsi que cela a commencé.
Nous nous sommes revus, plusieurs fois, souvent. Presque chaque soir, au bout
de quelques temps. J'avais continué à l'appeler mon maître, à commencer
toujours par m'agenouiller devant lui au début de nos ébats, et à louer son
sexe d'homme qui me fascinait. Et lui avait commencé symétriquement à se
moquer de mon sexe, à mépriser mon petit organe, à malaxer mon paquet mou en
doutant à haute voix qu'il s'agissait d'une sexe d'homme. C'était rapidement
devenu quelque chose d'acquis, une convention tacite entre nous, une évidence.
Et plus je louais son organe masculin, sa verge raide et puissante, ses
testicules volumineuses, plus il dépréciait ma petite bite et mes couilles
rabougries. Plus je le reconnaissais comme mon mâle dominant, plus il mettait
en doute le fait que je sois un homme.
" Tu n'es pas vraiment un mec " m'avait-il dit un jour. " tes couilles et ta
bite tu ne les as pas, tu les portes, et même : tu les transportes, seulement.
Et encore, si on considère que le petit paquet qu'il y a là sont une bite et
des couilles ", ajouta-t-il en pointant mon entrejambe. Et moi je le confirmai
dans ce discours, le remerciant de me montrer ce qu'était un véritable sexe
d'homme.
C'était un jeu charmant, qui me comblait parce qu'il m'excitait. C'était même
plus qu'un jeu, déjà, et je commençais à me persuader de ce que nous nous
répétions. En regardant mon organe, je le reconnaissais sincèrement petit et
ridicule, et commençais vraiment à doute que je le méritais.
Au bout de quelques mois, Franck me demanda si je le reconnaissais sincèrement
comme mon maître, et je lui répondis que oui. Il me demanda si je lui étais
véritablement soumis, et lui appartenais, et je lui dis que oui. Il me demanda
aussi si tout mon corps était sa possession, et que mon petit sexe en
particulier était à lui seul, et j'approuvai encore une fois. Sans hésiter. Il
continua en m'interrogeant sur ma virilité, si je pensais mériter d'être un
mec, si la bite et les couilles entre mes cuisses faisait de moi un homme, et
je répondis que non. Et enfin il me demanda si j'étais prêt à le reconnaître
de manière formelle, si j'étais prêt à assumer ma soumission au mâle qu'il
était, et à confirmer par un contrat signé la propriété qu'il avait sur mon
corps en général et mon sexe en particulier. Et comme je lui répondis encore
qui oui, il sortit trois exemplaires d'un document dans lequel je signifiais
officiellement tout cela, et je les signai aussitôt.
Cette cérémonie un peu étrange m'avait enfoncé plus avant dans le désir fou et
carnassier que j'avais pour cet homme. Franck, lui, avait été bizarre quelques
jours, presque distant, presque évasif. Moi, j'étais fou et l'appelait sans
fin mon maître et mon propriétaire.
Et puis, un après-midi, Franck me parla plus sérieusement que d'habitude. "
Joel " me dit-il " je sais que tu as signé mon contrat, que tu reconnais
m'appartenir entièrement, mais je voudrais que tu y réfléchisses vraiment
sérieusement. Il faut que tu comprennes que ce n'est pas un fantasme vain, un
amusement passager pour s'exciter et qu'on oublié en s'endormant après
l'amour. Alors je sais que tu as déjà signé, et que normalement tu es à moi,
mais je veux te donner l'occasion de confirmer ou bien d'abandonner tout cela.
Je voudrais que tu prennes ta décision vraiment sincèrement et, encore une
fois, en sachant que c'est une chose sérieuse. Il faut aussi que tu saches que
j'ai déjà fait signer des contrats comme le tien, et que déjà des garçons
avant toi mon cédé la propriété de leur sexe et … il faut que je te montre
quelque chose. ". Alors il s'était levé, s'était dirigé vers la vieille
armoire normande, et en avait ouvert les deux battants. Et sur la troisième
étagère, pour la première fois, j'avais vu les bocaux.
En le racontant maintenant, cela me semble le moment très précis où tout a
basculé. Sur l'instant, je reçus un tel choc que je ne pensais rien du tout.
J'étais plongé dans l'instant, dans un néant de réflexion, et avec un
sifflement fort et continu dans mes oreilles. Franck saisit les deux bocaux et
vint les poser devant moi, sur le lit où j'étais assis.
C'était deux grosses verrines à confiture en verre, avec un couvercle de verre
lui-aussi et un gros élastique pour assurer l'étanchéité. Ils étaient remplis
d'un liquide jeune un peu sali., Franck m'informa qu'il s'agissait de formol.
Et surtout, au fond de chacun d'eux gisait un sexe d'homme, tranché.
J'aurais pu penser qu'il s'agissait de faux. J'aurais même dû penser, me
persuader, considérer instantanément et en refusant de réfléchir qu'il
s'agissait de faux. Mais ils étaient si vrais, ils ressemblaient tant à des
organes d'hommes, et ce que je vivais avec Franck depuis quelques mois m'avait
à ce point préparé à trouver réaliste ce genre de chose, que je sus et
reconnus immédiatement qu'il s'agissait bien de véritables organes.
C'était donc deux organes de mecs. Deux bites, avec chacune leurs deux
couilles. Deux sexes qui avaient été portés par des garçons, qui avaient été
prélevés entre leurs cuisses, tranchés en une fois, et qui gisaient maintenant
inertes et inutiles, abandonnés, au fond de leur récipient. L'un était glabre
et paraissait un peu plus petit. L'autre avait encore ses poils, et était
recroquevillé.
Chacun des bocaux portait une étiquette. Sur le premier, je lus " Cédric, 14
octobre 1997 " et sur le second " Anthony, 17 mars 2001 ". Franck m'expliqua
qu'il s'agissait de ceux qui les avaient portés, et de la date à laquelle ils
avaient été coupés.
Donc il y avait ces deux garçons. Cédric et Anthony. Ces organes avaient été
les leurs. Ils étaient nés avec, avaient grossi avec, et s'étaient couverts de
poils, bien au chaud entre leurs cuisses. Et ces deux garçons les avaient
portés, dans des slips, des caleçons, des boxers, des maillots de bains.
Chaque matin ils les avaient saisis et posés dans le sous-vêtement. Ils
avaient bandé avec, baisé avec, sans doute ils s'étaient tripotés. De l'eau
avait coulé dessus sous la douche, des mains d'hommes ou de femmes les avaient
caressés, fait gonfler, leur avaient fait produire leur semence.
Et puis un jour, ces deux garçons avaient rencontrés Franck. Cédric, en 1997,
et Anthony, quatre ans plus tard, l'avaient reconnus comme maître, comme moi
aujourd'hui. Ils avaient signé un contrat, ils l'avaient fait maître de leur
sexe. Comme moi aujourd'hui. Et Franck leur avait tranché le sexe, pour les
placer dans un bocal. Et ces garçons continuent à vivre, sans doute. Là,
quelque part, dans cette ville, ils marchent dans les rues ou se reposent chez
eux. Ils portent des slips, des caleçons, des boxers, des maillots de bain. De
l'eau leur coule sur le corps lorsqu'ils prennent des douches. Peut-être des
hommes ou des femmes caressent encore leur entrejambe. Mais ils n'y trouvent
rien, rien qu'un espace creux et plat, et sans doute une cicatrice. Ils ne
trouvent rien, car il n'y a plus rien, et qu'il n'y aura jamais rien. Les
slips, les caleçons, les boxers, les maillots de bain sont maintenant
bouffants sur un espace vide. Car leur sexe est ici maintenant, flottant
mollement dans le formol d'un bocal. Et ces garçons vivent sans doute une vie
normale, paraissent normaux aux yeux des autres. Mais ce ne sont plus des
hommes. Ils n'ont plus de verge, ils n'ont pas de testicules. Ce qui fut leurs
organes appartient maintenant à Franck, à mon maître Franck, et a été tranché,
et gît maintenant au fond d'une verrine de verre.
J'étais fasciné, horrifié, hypnotisé, dégoûté. J'étais pris de nausée, et en
même temps obnubilé par ce que j'avais devant moi. Et je bandais. Je regardais
la bite de Cédric, petite et glabre, et le sexe plus gros d'Anthony. J'aurais
dû être rempli d'horreur, crier, m'enfuir, mais je restais hypnotisé par ce
que j'avais devant moi. Et mon esprit faisait des aller-retour incessants
entre ces deux garçons, que j'imaginais, et ces deux paquets coupés devant mes
yeux. Et je les voyais, l'un, l'autre, séparés, ensemble, j'imaginais ces
organes vivant et bougeant sur Cédric et Anthony, puis inertes et morts dans
leur bocal. Et je pensais sans cesse au passage de l'un à l'autre. Et cela
m'excitait. Et plus je pensais au contraste, plus mon érection s'amplifiait.
Franck ne dit rien. Il me laissa devant les deux bocaux, et laissa aussi sur
le lit le contrat que j'avais signé.
Je ne le déchirai point. Et le lendemain, en retournant chez Franck, je
continuai à l'appeler mon maître.
A partir de ce jour-là, mon sort était scellé.
Pendant quelques temps, nous avons continué comme avant. J'appelais toujours
Franck mon maître, et je m'agenouillais devant lui, et je me soumettais à son
organe. Mais quand il me disait que je n'étais pas un mec, que je n'avais pas
d'organe, les choses étaient différentes. Car je comprenais maintenant ce que
cela signifiait. Et que je savais maintenant que c'était vrai.
Je m'étais souvent excité sur le terme " émasculation ", sur l'adjectif "
émasculé ". Mais maintenant, c'était différent. Maintenant, cela correspondait
à une image très précise. L'émasculation, c'était mon sexe dans un bocal, mes
petits organes plongés dans du formol. Je m'étais déjà dit : je ne suis pas un
mâle. Maintenant, c'était plus précis : un mâle, je ne serai plus.
L'émasculation, ce serait une lame tranchante glissant entre mes cuisses, et
emportant au loin ma petite verge et mes petites testicules.
Souvent, presque tous les soirs, je me tenais nu devant la glace. J'écartais
les jambes et je laissais mon sexe prendre tristement. Déjà, il me paraissait
inerte, déjà mort. J'en coinçais la base entre le pouce et l'index et, serrant
fortement, je le tirais loin devant moi. Et déjà je le voyais partir. Déjà, il
n'était plus à moi.
Je le voyais sans cesse flottant dans un bocal. Incessamment je le voyais
passer de l'entrejambe au récipient. Cette image me hantait presque en tout
temps. Je la voyais nettement, à chaque instant, depuis ce jour où elle
m'avait frappé, en voyant les sexes tranchés de Cédric et Anthony. Seulement,
ce n'était plus les organes de ces deux garçons que j'imaginais maintenant,
passant sans cesse des cuisses au récipient. C'étaient les miens, c'était mon
petit paquet que je voyais tranché, enlevé, enfermé.
Et puis un jour, en entrant chez Franck, je vis un nouveau bocal sur la table
de sa cuisine. Il était tout à fait semblable à ceux que j'avais vu quelques
semaines auparavant. Sauf que le liquide était encore clair, propre, et que le
bocal était vide. Et surtout qu'il ne portait qu'une étiquette à moitié
renseignée. Une étiquette sur laquelle je lis mon nom, en lettres rondes, à
l'encre fraîche. Une étiquette écrite " Joël ", comme j'avais vu sur d'autres
" Cédric " ou " Anthony ".
Je suis resté plus d'une heure autour de ce bocal. J'ai tourné autour. Petit à
petit, il me semblait voir apparaître mon sexe au fond. Alors c'était là.
Pendant trente ans, mes organes avaient pendouillé entre mes jambes, et
bientôt ce serait là qu'ils allaient reposer. Et je me suis approché de
Franck. Je me suis blotti contre lui. J'ai collé ma braguette contre sa
braguette, mon sexe contre son sexe, ou plutôt : mon offrande contre son
organe. Et je me suis penché dans le creux de son épaule. Et j'ai susurré dans
son oreille, comme le premier jour, comme cette première fois quand je lui
avais promis ma soumission totale et inconditionnelle : " Mon petit paquet est
à toi. Prends-le. C'est ta propriété. C'est ta possession. "
J'avais donné ma dernière acceptation. Il n'y avait plus lieu d'attendre
maintenant. Je ne sais plus trop ce que j'ai pensé ou ressenti pendant cette
fin de semaine. Je ne sais vraiment plus. Le samedi, en début de soirée, je
suis retourné chez Franck. Il faisait déjà nuit dehors. Il y avait là
quelqu'un que je n'avais jamais vu. Quelqu'un que Franck semblait connaître.
Il y avait aussi de nombreux outils de chirurgien. Je m'assis sur une sorte de
lit, le torse renversé en arrière, les genoux écartés. L'homme m'attacha les
bras, puis les mollets, afin de me maintenir les jambes ouvertes. Mes organes,
mon petit paquet, ma bite, mes couilles étaient là, froides et fragiles,
offertes à cet inconnu. Elles étaient là, vulnérables. Et moi, maintenu par
mes liens, je ne pouvais rien faire, je pouvais juste les offrir et constater
que n'importe qui pouvait, sans résistance de ma part, les saisir et les
manipuler. Je me sentais comme une sorte de réceptacle, tout juste porteur de
ce petit paquet d'organes masculin qui, pour quelques instants encore, étaient
accrochés entre mes jambes et donnaient l'illusion de ma virilité.
J'étais donc là, genoux ouverts, brandissait devant moi, malgré moi, une verge
et des testicules qui avaient été miennes, que j'avais offertes à Franck, et
qu'il s'apprêtait à me prendre.
L'inconnu mit des gants de chirurgien en latex. Il les ajusta, puis saisi un
bistouri, assez long. Puis il s'avança entre mes jambes. Rien ne l'en
empêchait. Mes jambes étaient ouvertes.
J'avais pensé que j'aurais une érection énorme quand on m'émasculerait. Que
l'idée qu'on me tranche les testicules et la verge me ferait bander. Mais ce
n'était pas vrai. Mon sexe était tout petit, glacial, tremblant. Il
frissonnait de terreur. La peur ratatinait mes organes, qui se retrouvaient
plus petits encore que d'habitude, presque minuscules. Ma bite était
recroquevillée, mes couilles rabougries, collées à l'entrejambe. Je pensais
que l'approche de mon émasculation allait m'exciter, que j'allais bander à
l'idée qu'un homme, devant moi, entre mes jambes, était sur le point de me
castrer, de m'émasculer complètement, de m'ôter mes organes masculins. Mais
non, je n'avais plus que ces petites choses froides et minuscules,
frémissantes et rétrécies, lâches et misérables.
L'homme tenta de me saisir la base du sexe, mais il n'y parvint pas, tellement
mon paquet s'était ratatiné entre mes cuisses. Il dû tirer la peau pour
décoller les organes et découvrir l'endroit de la section. Quand ce fut fait,
il me ligatura solidement la base du paquet avec un lacet de plastique. Je
voyais donc ma bite et mes couilles pendre inertes de l'autre côté du lien.
Déjà ce n'était plus moi, déjà ce n'était plus à moi.
Je ne sais plus trop combien de temps tout cela à duré. Je me souviens de voir
l'inconnu lever le bistouri devant lui. La lame brilla devant ses yeux, un
éclat parcourant son fil de tout le long. C'était prêt. L'homme abaissa
rapidement le bistouri. Il glissa devant lui, le long de son torse, puis
disparut entre mes jambes. C'était fait.
Ensuite, c'est un peu flou. Je le vis recueillir mon petit paquet sanglant
dans la paume de sa main gauche. Je le vis le lever, puis l'éloigner
rapidement de mon entrejambe. Mes organes s'en allaient. lls étaient à 20
centimètres de mes cuisses, à 50, à un mètre. Il les donna à Franck, qui les
recueillit dans le creux de ses mains, et retourna s'affairer à ma plaie.
Franck fixa mon paquet quelques instants, avec un regard qui semblait
d'extase. Mon sexe, ma paire de testicules, ma verge étaient donc dans la
paume des mains de cet homme, à quelques mètres de moi. Franck agrafa le haut
du paquet, afin de retenir le contenu. Il le passa ensuite sous l'eau, pour le
nettoyer de son sang. Alors, il le tendit devant moi, mon paquet pendant sous
son poignet, au bout de son bras, juste devant mes yeux. Il dit simplement "
c'est à moi maintenant, ça appartient à ma collection ".
C'était la dernière fois que ce petit paquet pendait quelque part et ce
n'était pas entre mes jambes. Il pendouillait sous son poignet.
Franck retourna vers sa table de cuisine et s'affaira quelques temps, sans que
je voies ce qu'il faisait. Puis je le vis attraper le bocal, ce bocal vide qui
m'attendait. Il l'ouvrit, le reposa, et saisit le paquet d'organe (je ne peux
plus dire " mon sexe ") et le lâcha à la surface du liquide. Le petit paquet
coula au fond, lentement, déjà inerte et mort. Je vis les deux couilles
s'écraser d'abord sur la base du récipient, puis la bite tout de suite après,
et se figer rapidement dans un sommeil immuable. Franck prit un stylo et, des
mêmes lettres rondes qu'il avait écrit mon nom, de la même encre fraîche, il
écrivit la date du jour. Et je pus lire, sur l'étiquette : " Joël, 4 avril
2003 ".
Voilà, j'étais émasculé, je suis émasculé. Maintenant, en tout cas, les choses
sont claires : je ne suis pas un mec. Je n'ai pas de bite. Je n'ai pas
couille. Point. La définition est explicite et peut se vérifier de manière
physique.
Et depuis ce jour là, Franck possède trois organes masculins. Trois bites,
avec leurs trois paires de couilles. Celles de Cédric, celles d'Anthony. Et
celles de Joël. Celles qui étaient à moi. Celles que je lui ai offertes. Et il
peut regarder sa collection. Il peut la montrer à ses amis. Et ces amis
regardent le troisième pot. Ils y voient un sexe mort, une triste bite et de
tristes couilles, végétatives. Un paquet d'homme en stockage. Ils se disent
que c'est le plus petit. Et ils lisent sur l'étiquette le nom de celui qui l'a
fournit : " Joël, 4 avril 2003 ".
J'ai du mal à dire cela maintenant : " celles qui étaient à moi ". Ai-je
vraiment eu une bite et des couilles ? Les ai-je vraiment possédé ? Ou est-ce
que je les portaient simplement ? En tout cas, la réponse est simple
maintenant : je ne vois rien entre mes jambes, et rien dans ma glace.
Quelques jours après mon émasculation, Franck me fit signer un bon de cession.
Il y avait là la description complète de ce que je lui avais cédé. Je compris
ce qui l'avait occupé avant de mettre les organes dans leur récipient. Ils les
avaient mesurés, pesés, inspectés. Je signai donc " Cession, à titre gracieux
et pour pleine possession, de Joël P. à Franck N., d'un sexe masculin, glabre,
composé d'une verge, longueur 8,5 centimètres, et de deux testicules, diamètre
moyen 2,5 centimètres. Couleur : claire. Poids total : 270 grammes. Volume :
23 centilitres. La cession est irrévocable. Elle n'ouvre pas droit à
réclamation ultérieure de la part du nouveau propriétaire ".
Voilà, c'était il y a un an. Depuis, j'ai rencontré Cédric et Anthony.
Parfois, nous allons ensemble chez Franck. Il nous laisse voir sa collection.
Nous regardons béat les trois paquets dans leurs bocaux respectifs. Nous les
regardons, mous, inutiles, statiques. Nous fixons ces bites dormantes, ces
paires de couilles végétatives.
Trois tristes sexes d'homme, tranchés, stockés dans des récipients en verres.
* * *
Ce soir, je suis désœuvré. Affalé dans mon canapé. Il y a un an qu'on m'a
émasculé. E-masculé. Oté le mâle, d'un simple et rapide coup de bistouri. Il
fut un temps, j'ai l'impression, où je m'imaginais que j'avais un sexe de mec.
C'est absurde, invraisemblable. Mon seul rapport avec une verge et avec des
testicules, c'est lorsque Franck offre à mes lèvres son organe puissant. Et
puis peut-être aussi un petit paquet mort qui gît sous mon nom, décoratif.
Dans un bocal de formol. Sur une troisième étagère. Dans un placard.
* * * |
Open Wound | GAY, PENECTOMY | Ian submits his body to Roger\'s desires. Roger has a special event planned for Ian\'s cock. | ` Roger’s heart pounded as he looked at Ian’s naked body. The boy’s hands and
wrists were handcuffed to the four bedposts. A red ball gag and blindfold were
securely in place. And his hard cock was throbbing, kept that way by a leather
strap wrapped tightly around his genitals. `
Roger had met Ian in the leather bar only an hour earlier. It didn’t take much
persuasion to get him back to Roger’s apartment. Ian was only 19, but Roger
was amazed at how much punishment he was willing to take. He hardly made a
whimper as Roger brought the crop down on his buttocks, leaving a dozen red
stripes across those firm mounds.
Best of all, Ian told him “no limits.” He submitted instantly when Roger
ordered him to bend over and accept a large butt plug in his anus. And now he
was ready to accept whatever Roger chose to do to his helpless body.
Roger pinched Ian’s left nipple between two fingers, squeezing it almost flat.
Then he drove the needle through the flesh, causing Ian to jerk from the pain.
A moment later, the other nipple was subjected to the same ordeal. . Blood
trickled from the pierced flesh, running slowly down Ian’s chest.
He wrapped his fingers around Ian’s balls, already squeezed into their sack by
the leather strap. Ian began to moan as Roger slowly tightened his grasp, but
his cock remained as firm as ever. Roger knew that pain only intensified the
excitement Ian felt.
Roger teased Ian’s cock with his tongue, licking up and down the shaft, and
around the large head. Pre-cum was already dribbling from the slit, and Roger
smiled as he tasted the salty fluid. It was time to move on to the main event.
The metal rod was six inches long, already slick from lubricant. Roger picked
it up and put the narrowed point into Ian’s pisshole. Then he slowly pushed
the rod into the small opening, forcing the urethra to accept the intruder.
Ian moaned into his gag as the rod began to enter his cock. It was probably
the largest object ever put into Ian’s penis, much wider than any catheter the
boy had experienced.
Steady pressure forced the rod into Ian’s hard cock. Two inches disappeared,
then three, as Ian moaned and strained against his handcuffs. Finally, only an
inch of stainless steel protruded from his throbbing dick. Roger stopped and
admired his work. He could see Ian’s urethra bulging from the rod, blocking
any semen from escaping.
Now Roger began a steady jacking of Ian’s cock. He wrapped his slick fingers
around the shaft, and moved them up and down to a constant rhythm. Ian was
experiencing stimulation from many places: his nipples, swollen and throbbing
from the needles; his prostate, rubbing up against the butt plug; his balls,
being squeezed from the leather strap. Now his cock was stuffed from the metal
rod, and Roger’s fingers were coaxing it closer and closer to orgasm.
Roger knew his timing had to be perfect. He watched Ian’s body as it strained
and writhed. He could see Ian’s breathing get faster, a sure sign that orgasm
was near. Roger quickened the motion of his hand, bringing more moans from the
boy. Ejaculation was only seconds away.
He picked up the knife, and placed the blade just under the bulge caused by
the metal rod. The cut had to be made at exactly the right moment: too soon
and orgasm would be aborted, too late and the effect would be ruined.
Ian groaned, and his body stiffened as orgasm began. Roger slashed the knife
across the urethra, bringing a spray of blood. Then it happened: semen shot
out of the open wound, tinged crimson. It was a beautiful sight, something
only achieved through great care and planning. Roger smiled as a second wad of
cum spurted from the cut, then a third. A stream of bloody semen dribbled over
Ian’s balls, and ran onto the sheets.
Orgasm was over, so Roger finished the job. He placed the blade in the gash,
and began cutting into the shaft. Ian screamed into his gag, his body jerking
vainly against its restraints. It took only a minute to sever the cock
completely from Ian’s body.
Roger placed Ian’s penis on a tray, the metal rod still protruding from its
head. The rod would help keep the organ firm and long, just like the other
five cocks he had already collected. He smiled, and congratulated himself on a
good day’s work.
* * * |
New Beginning | GAY, NULLIFICATION | From 15 to now he gave into his desire for more and more intense genital torture | I started out at age 15 playing with my cock and balls, tying them
with cord, clamping vice grips on my cock head and foreskin and
sticking objects down my piss hole. My dick knew what it liked even
at that age. The older I got the more I enjoyed all aspects of
genital torture. I ran across a piercing book and decided that I'd
look hot with piercings. So I sent away for piercing needles, jewelry
and a video on "how to do" piercing. Whoa, what a rush when I
pierced my left tit. I waited a couple weeks; just to see how well
the piercing healed, and was so pleased I pierced my right tit. Guys
began to hit on me at the gym, on the beach, and in the clubs. Every
one loved playing with the rings and it really sent me into a sexual
high.
I rented a couple of video's one rainy weekend and one of them
depicted a couple of guys doing solo jerk off's. The first guy had a
nice enough body and made my dick kind of lukewarm, but the second
guy had my dick's attention the moment he came on the screen. I knew
right away he had tit rings and as he took off his shirt, he showed
tattoos, a smooth chest and big size rings that he kept working,
pulling, and twisting. When he dropped his pants, I shot cum all over
the place. Before my eyes was more jewelry that my eyes could take
in at once. A big P/A sticking out of his cocks piss hole, a dozen
rings forming a ladder, from just under his dick all the way down his
ball sac back to his ass, as well as a navel ring. I was in love to
say the least. I played that video over and over again throughout
the weekend and rubbed my cock raw. For weeks that was all I could
think about and finally came to the conclusion I had to have the same.
I decided I wanted a professional piercer to do me in order to get
the rings aligned properly, so I started walking through the yellow
pages looking for a tattoo/piercing parlor. I was surprised at how
many there were so I started making the rounds. I wanted a good
looking stud that know what he was doing. I must have gone to at
least 10 different parlors, before I found the guy. When I told him
what I wanted he looked a little apprehensive, and kind of reserved.
I asked him if I'd said something wrong or had offended him in some
way, but he told me to come back at closing time, and he'd explain
then.
I was there promptly at closing. As soon as I walked in he locked the
door, put a closed sign in the window and pulled the blinds. He told
me to follow him into the back room and strip. I was so excited I
had a raging hardon as I dropped my pants. He came up to me and
started stroking my cock and fondling my balls. He got down on his
knees and began measuring my cock and ball sac. He seemed impressed
with my 9" uncut cock and lemon size nuts. He asked me if I was
single and gay. I told him I was, but didn't understand what that
had to do with anything. He told me he was looking for a lover who
would also be interested in turning over his body to him to modify as
he wished. If I were interested in his offer he would do my
piercings for free as well as a few additional modifications. I was
somewhat taken back by his offer. I had come in expecting to get my
cock and balls pierced and was offered a relationship to boot. I was
intrigued with the idea and he was certainly hot looking, so bold as
can be I asked him if he'd mind taking his clothes off to let me see
what he looked like naked. He just laughed and dropped his pants and
shirt to the floor. Standing before me was an Adonis, rippling abs,
smooth chest and a pierced 10" uncut cock standing at attention.
Without blinking an eye, I told him I was his, and fell to my knees
licking and sucking on his cock. We didn't get around to piercing
that night, but I did have a sore asshole the next morning. We dated
for perhaps a month, before I finally moved in with him and became
his lover. He took his time modifying my body. He gave me a P/A
first and began to remove my body hair though electrolysis. It was
almost six months before Adam announced it was time to put the rings
in my ball sac. He inserted two at a time, and within a year I had
twenty-four rings. Adam love watching me walk around the house naked
with the rings jigging, and I loved looking at my ringed balls as
well. Standing in front of the mirror I always got a hardon. My
biggest problem was wearing underwear, which caused the rings to
bunch up and pinch. I solved the problem by throwing my underwear
away and started wearing baggy pants. They gave me freedom of
movement and as I walked it allowed my cock to rub down one size of
my leg while my nuts rested on the other side. Twenty-four rings
also acted as weights to my sac causing it to hang loose most of the
time. Guys at the gym openly stared while I was in the shower, and
quite a few walked away with raging hardon's. Only a few came up to
me after I'd leave the gym and questioned me about my piercings. All
were curious for one reason or another. Most couldn't understand why
I'd want that many rings in my sac, while a few wanted to cope a feel
or wanted to know the name of the piercer. Only one of the them,
Charlie, actually had his sac pierced.
Adam continued to modify my body, adding a tattoo here and there over
the next couple of years. My last tattoo, a hooded snaked, covered
my cock and balls. My tattoo's added a new dimension to my gym
workouts. I knew that a number of eyes were always staring my way,
especially in the shower. Charlie and I became workout buddies and
he began to hang around Adam's tattoo parlor. One evening Adam began
asking me what I thought about Charlie, and if I'd be interested in
adding a third guy to our relationship. At first I became jealous,
thinking that Charlie was trying to break us up, so he could have
Adam for himself. When I confronted Charlie he was genuinely
surprised that we had even discussed the possibility. He said he was
interested in finding a lover, but had never thought we'd be
interested in him. Truth be told, Charlie had a killer body, with 8
fat cut inches and walnut size nuts. I told Adam about our
conversation and said he if it was ok with me, he wanted to include
Charlie into the family. Charlie turned out to be a true submissive
bottom, and enjoyed being tied up, whipped, and loved being
gangbanged. He told us on a number of occasions he wanted to become
our slave. He asked us to setup a scene where he was tied up in a
dungeon and tortured, especially his cock and balls. During our
session, while we were abusing his cock and balls, he told us he
wanted to be castrated. The confession took me by surprise and when
I looked over at Adam, was somewhat confused by the smirk on his
face.
Later on that week over dinner, I got up enough courage to bring up
the subject of castration and was very surprised by Adam saying how
turned on he got just thinking about gelding guys, and Charlie's
reaction saying he wanted Adam to castrate him. They turned to me and
wanted to know if I had ever considered being castrated. At that
point my mind was in overload, thinking about being castrated,
realizing I was seeing a new side to both my lovers, and what the
possibilities would be like as an eunuch. My mouth went dry and I
couldn't seem to find my voice, but as I looked down I realized my
cock was hard as a rock. Both Adam and Charlie got up and stood
beside my chair looking in my lap, Charlie started laughing pointing
to my crotch. He finally stopped and said I may have lost my voice,
but my dick knew what it wanted. Adam reached down, grabbed my dick
and said perhaps my dick and balls should be mounted and displayed
for all to see.
Our sessions took on a different meaning after that, the genital
torture became more intense and talk about cutting, castration,
branding, became the theme. Both Charlie and I would be tied up and
Adam would work over our cock and balls. One particular session when
both of us were tied, Charlie began begging Adam to use his balls as
a pincushion. Adam asked if I was game, resulting in Adam piercing
our nuts with play piercing needles. The adrenaline high I got was
like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I knew then it would only
be a matter of time, before I consented to being castrated. Charlie
said he wanted us to be castrated together and Adam said he was ready
whenever we were.
During the following year Charlie and I collected, read and saw a ton
of literature on castration, eunuchs, and nullo's. The literature
included transsexuals, s/m dungeon scenes, slavery, sex offenders and
medical reasons. Adam told us he had been approached but a friend in
the leather community who wanted his slave boy cut. He invited them
over and we all began talking about castration, the reasons, and
whether it was right for the individuals involved. Jason the slave
boy explained the reason he wanted to give up his manhood to his
master, assuring us he would happiest an eunuch. He said his only
purpose in life was to serve and please his master and giving up his
worthless balls was a small price to pay. Before they left, a date
had been set and Charlie and I were to be Adams assistants.
After they had left, I asked Adam if he had any experience as a
cutter, to which he told us to follow him. We went down to the
basement over to the back wall, where he pulled open the bookcase.
There lined up on shelves where twenty jars containing balls and/or
cocks of varying sizes. He said he had been a cutter for over 10
years and had removed balls and cocks whenever his services were
requested.
I asked him when we had first met, if when he said he wanted a lover
who would turn over his body for modification if castration had been
part of it. He assured me he hadn't, but he had always wanted a
eunuch lover. Charlie spoke up saying he was willing to fulfill the
part. All the while I was looking over the jars my cock was hard as a
rock, jerking up and down. Adam pushed the back of his hand against
my cock and I shot a big load of cum. He didn't say anything, just
walked away. I was speechless, realizing the effect it had on me.
Two weeks later, Jason and his master arrived, and Charlie and I
prepped him while Adam got his surgical tools ready. After Jason
signed a consent form, we strapped him to a table, spreading his legs
and securing them. Jason didn't want a scene, just the balls
removed. Adam injected around the ball sac, once he was sure the
area was numb, he sliced down the left side, and pulled the nut out.
I was amazed at the color and shape of the exposed nut and was
impressed with Adam's surgical skill. He sutured the cord and very
carefully cut below the suture severing the nut. He asked Jason if he
wanted him to continue or stop. Jason said he was ready for the other
nut to be taken. Adam very carefully repeated the procedure to the
right nut and took a break to look at his latest prize. He kept
checking the sutured cords to make sure they weren't bleeding, before
closing up the empty sac. Jason was released and taken upstairs
where he was put to bed and watched. He stayed with us a week,
before going home with his master. He told us he was really happy
and hoped he would be back soon for Adam to remove the sac.
I woke up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat, cum all over
me, from a dream so real, I felt my cock still shooting as I reached
down to be sure it was there. The dream was about my nullification,
in a darkly lit dungeon, with a dozen men standing around watching. I
kept having the same dream over and over and I finally couldn't stand
it anymore and decided to tell Adam and Charlie about it. Charlie was
speechless while Adam suggested I talk with a psychiatrist friend of
his.
I went to his friend and we had about six sessions, and I felt like I
was getting nowhere. I decided, what it boiled down to either give
up my genitals or go crazy. So I marched into to the tattoo parlor
just at closing and told Adam I had come to a decision. I wanted him
to remove my genitals. He smiled that unnerving smile of his and
said he would be delighted to put his artwork on display. He told me
I'd probably have to give up going to the gym because the sight of me
without my cock and balls would probably result in my being band from
the gym anyway.
After my decision the dreams appeared to stop, and life went back to
normal. When Charlie was informed of my decision he paled,
remembering he had been begged me to be part of a castration scene.
Now he realized his balls were to be trophies in the very near future.
We didn't have long to wait. Jason, his master, and a couple of other
masters, were all invited over the following Saturday evening. The
dungeon was prepared, lights adjusted, a camera setup, and the
operating table and chair were put in place. Once everyone arrived,
Charlie and I were led in, Charlie strapped down in the chair with
his cock and balls hanging loosely over the edge of the chair. I was
strapped down to the operating table, my legs spread wide, the table
tilted so I could see everything that was going on.
Adam set down in front of Charlie, grabbed his cock and taped it to
his stomach to keep it out of the way. He injected around the ball
sac and once he was sure the area was numb, he picked up the scalpel,
pulled the balls down, and started cutting around the sac. Once the
cords were exposed and tied off, he quickly ran the scalpel across
the cords and raised he hand holding Charlie's balls. Jason walked
over holding a tray which Adam laid the balls on. Jason walked
around the room, showing everyone the severed balls and sac, while
Adam finished by sewing up the sac.
All during the castration my cock stood at attention. I begged Adam
to make me cum one last time before he removed my cock. He bent over
and started sucked and chewing on my cock and in seconds I was
shooting my load. He continued to suck my cock until it softened.
He washed my genitals two or three more times before he began the
injection around my cock and balls. He inserted a tube down my cock
and ran the scalpel across the top of my genitals, exposing the
ligaments, which he severed. He pulled on my cock and it began to
lengthen. Even though my genitals were numb, my cock began to grow.
Once he was sure the root was exposed he very carefully began tying
it off. He continued to slice down around my ball sac, leaving
enough skin to close the wound, once he was finished. He would cut
awhile then waiting for the bleeding to stop. He sutured my ball
cords and cut them, before tying off my cock at the base. He made
two ties, looked up at me and told me to take a deep breath, because
he was getting ready to make the final cut. I nodded, help my breath
and watched as the scalpel made it's way around the shaft between the
two ties. My cock and balls were severed from my body and hanging by
the tube. He cut the tube and laid my cock and balls on another tray
that Jason held out to him. He rerouted my urethra and sewed up my
crotch. I was amazed as I watched the tattoo markings he had done so
carefully align almost perfectly.
I couldn't believe I gone through with it, I no longer have a cock or
balls. How will my life change? |
Agnes | WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, clitoridectomy | Sylvie learns about Aunt Agnes’ nullification, while combining her own ’Out of Africa’ moments with her struggle against FGM. | Sylvie couldn’t believe her eyes. The photo on her laptop showed a middle aged
woman, her head shaven, her face a rictus of pain and elation, hanging in the
middle of an abstruse machine, a robotic torture device of sinister
proportions. Her sister Cassie’s capture said: ‘Aunt Agnes in the moment of
truth.’ She wanted to read the accompanying mail, but the generator was about
to cut out in 10 minutes and she had to make quick decisions: Get enough water
from the pump for washing herself and/or her clothes or keep trying to connect
to the satellite for loading down all the messages for everyone in the mission
or review the footage they had shot today or write her dairy … It didn’t help
that Mila kept talking to her in her Italian sing song English, all excited
about the trip to the Chosi and the cutting ceremony they had witnessed. Even
after three days in the mission Mila still hadn’t understood that getting
enough water into their room for all their needs till tomorrow morning was
number one priority and that there had to be a division of labor, with Sylvie
being the more experienced one trying to fiddle around with the satellite
receiver. Sighing she turned around.
‘… and not one move, not in her face, not in her legs and then this one moan,
when the old lady cut. I still not believing, how can twelve year old girl be
brave like that.’
Mila couldn’t stop raving about the tribal chief’s daughter, whose duty as the
first one to be cut was to serve as an example to the other girls. Sylvie had
seen it in different variations, but it still tore her heart each time.
‘Mila, the water.’
‘Ah, the water, oh so sorry, I talking and talking.’
Sylvie grabbed two of the jerry cans and passed two to Mila. Now she had to
help anyway as otherwise they would stay dirty and thirsty during the night.
Mila’s usual protest that two jerry cans were too heavy for her failed to
materialize today as she recognized that Sylvie wasn’t in the mood for
complaints. Elisabeth, the pastor’s wife and Madeleine, the local nurse, were
just filling up their cans. There were strict rules that no one was to be
treated as a servant and therefore everyone had to take care of her or his own
water. There were no cooks, no maids, no drivers either ... Pastor Jones was
very adamant about this. He had this rather egalitarian understanding of the
scripture and a yearning to lead by example.
That was also the reason he was trying to find diesel for their generator
himself by driving the two days to the provincial capital, after picking up
Mila in the main capital hadn’t solved their problem due to general rationing.
Sylvie was worried they might end up like two months ago, when they had to use
the hand pump and couldn’t shower for weeks. She was used to strong smells,
when visiting the villages. But when her own smell overwhelmed her, though,
being cut, her pussy’s flavor still was comparatively light, she understood
the power of a woman’s smell in the cramped quarters of a tribal village.
Madeleine had smiled at her, ‘Now you even start smelling like us’, she said,
referring to her recognizing very early during Sylvie’s stay in the mission
that Sylvie also was a cut woman. From that moment Madeleine took care that
all the doors were open for her and that she could film even the most secret
initiation rites.
She longingly looked to the enclosure, where Toni and Ktlosi, the local male
nurse, were frolicking in the trickling water. Today was men’s day. And she
had her period. And her tampons were running low. And thinking about Toni
didn’t help either as her knickers were already saturated from watching the
cutting ceremony, the long trip, fantasizing what she would do to him as a
farewell present. He was such a dork. They lived together on this compound for
nearly 10 months, him looking at her like a lovelorn puppy and she using all
tricks in the book to get into his pants. But no! He kept on talking about
true love and losing one’s virginity on the wedding night. Sweet … but so
stupid. Now she knew: She might let him sodomize her. Much safer and he
wouldn’t know the difference anyway.
‘Mila, could I borrow some of your tampons?’
Mila actually blushed?
‘I …pads. Tampons … I not use.’
‘Why?’
‘I .. small.’
Whispering into her ear. Sylvie had this experience of déjŕ vu with Cassie and
her hiding under the covers playing show me yours and I show you mine. Mila’s
brown deep eyes in her Italian aristocratic face now conveyed a mixture of
innocence and Swiss boarding school mischief. Oh no, not another virgin!
Lugging the two jerry cans to their room Sylvie threw one last look at Toni’s
long wet hair and muscled shoulders, listening to Mila’s sexy huffing and
puffing as she was struggling with her own cans. Her determination was set: ‘I
so have to corrupt this place.’
‘How … you know much … about this cruel business?’
Mila always needed her bed time talk. Sylvie was missing Lydia, the heavy set
German girl, who was replaced by this Italianated Paris Hilton clone. Lydia
always fell asleep the moment she hit the bed. Lydia had been down to earth,
with a hearty laugh, her English as rudimentary as her French, but ready to
touch and gesticulate and therefore able to communicate with everyone much
better than Mila with her perfect French. Ok, she had a rather strong body
odour, but everyone started to smell funky here due to the strange food and
the hot climate. And she longed for Lydia’s fist. Sylvie still remembered
fondly, when sitting on the bed cutting her toe nails, Lydia suddenly stood
up, kneeled in front of her and without further ado brushed her new grown
forest away opening her outer lips to reveal the empty cleft.
‘I knew it’, she smiled, her ruddy cheeks glowing even stronger.
‘Here?’
‘No, at home.’
‘Mhm, schön.’
Lydia had to swallow, it was obvious she was salivating. From there to finding
out that Lydia not only was a hardcore lesbian well known in her hometown
leather scene but also the odd combination of an ardent fighter against FGM
and a clit torture fetishist with the pedigree of a trainee midwife took only
minutes. Half an hour later Sylvie had her first orgasm due to the knuckles of
Lydia’s fist rubbing on her cervix. Just thinking about it, made her pussy
tight. It had become a kind of routine: coming home, sweaty, grubby, dusty and
horny, taking off each others dirty panties to use them as gags, and then
Sylvie would sit on Lydia’s fist, while pinching Lydia’s clit with her sharp
finger nails, often till she would draw blood and they would both first try to
hide their screams and then their well fucked looks, when they joined
Elisabeth and Madeleine in the shower. Basically that was the reason Toni
stayed a virgin. And now she was stuck with another one in the bed on the
other side of the room.
‘Well, I’m here for some time already. And secondly I want to specialize in
sexual anthropology, when I go to college, so I started reading about these
customs at home.’
Save answer, to early yet for the truth. ‘Hopefully she’s bored to sleep now’,
because the three fingers up Sylvie’s ass and the little finger trying to
enter her pee hole certainly had the desired effect of making her groan, which
would raise further questions.
‘You … ok?’
Oh no, she heard it.
‘Fine … just tired.’
‘If you … you know … want to play …’
Blushed silence. What did she just say?
‘Qu’est ce que j’ai dit? Mais comme je suis conne … ’
Another embarrassing silence. Sylvie held her breath, while Mila was trying to
hang herself.
‘You know … in internat …girls like sisters … so there always sighs … and one
needs …. comme on dit … relief?’
Was she talking self pleasuring or helping each other out, so to say?
‘So you had a girlfriend?’
‘Many … in my class everyone good friends …’
‘I mean real girlfriend, a lover?’
‘Oh no …’
She couldn’t stop giggling.
‘So sorry my English … no I’m no lesbian, no sorry for mix up. We only talk …
and hear … each one, you understand?’
‘Ok, so you don’t mind if I frig myself just now and have an orgasm?’
She would show this little teasing hussy. Mila kept on giggling.
‘Now if I do this, you have to do it as well and I want to hear, ok?’
‘Si.’
The answer was giggly and breathy at the same time, someone obviously was
wetting her knickers already. Sylvie answered with a second groan, her little
finger finally lodged up to its first knuckle in her pee hole. Lydia had
helped her train it with a urethral sound, warning her not to overdo it as she
might end up incontinent. Still the burning feeling of stimulating her G point
from the inside in combination with the stretching of her asshole never failed
to trigger one of those slow-train-coming orgasms, which seemed to go on
forever. Like her last crazy day with Lydia. They actually didn’t talk about
it, but it always was a forgone conclusion that Lydia would give her clit as a
farewell present. So putting out her toys on the last morning just before
making her final rounds of all the health clinics happened without a spoken
word and both of them smiling like on Christmas morning. The clamped off
catheter really hurt going in, but not as much as Lydia’s big but plug. Sylvie
always needed 10 minutes to get it past her sphincter. Then Lydia handed her
the surgical threat and the clit pump they had constructed from a cut off
syringe. Pumping out Lydia’s clit as far as it would go was one of their
favourite games, but today Sylvie would tie off the clit behind the pump just
as close to the skin and as tight as possible and fix the knot with super
glue, which wasn’t easy with Lydia’s fat outer lips and her big hood. At that
point Lydia started to flop around on the bed and Sylvie had to save herself,
the syringe popping off her clit and flying through the room. Lydia’s grunting
became really loud, so Sylvie grabbed a pillow and pressed it on Lydia’s face
just in time for the scream of all screams. This bed needed a change of sheets
that was for sure. Sylvie had her own little orgasm just looking at Lydia in
pain and pleasure as her clit slowly started to die.
‘Oh … tu te régale …’
There were sighs and giggles coming from the other side of the room. Sylvie
was lost in her memories, Mila’s little moans blending with her recollections
of Lydia’s orgasms, which continued to get fainter and fainter during the day,
while hers grew more urgent the more her bladder filled and the more her
asshole was abused with every bump in the road as they did their rounds, no
one suspecting what was going on under their skirts. Finally standing on top
of the hill overlooking the mission with the African sun setting on the
horizon Lydia passed Sylvie the nail clipper and dug five little holes in the
ground with a stick. Bend over from the urge to pee and the pain in her ass
Sylvie knelt between Lydia’s legs looking at the huge whitish clit towering
out of its hood. Pulling the tip of the clit into the clipper wasn’t easy, but
Lydia didn’t show any reaction. Looking into Lydia’s eyes Sylvie pressed the
clipper together with all her might, while her other hand tried to serve as
receptacle. What it received was a lot of juice and one little piece of flesh,
while Lydia’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, her fists banging against her
temples, a howl just stuck in her throat. Breathing heavily, Lydia looked on
as Sylvie put the little piece in the ground. With Sylvie groaning, Lydia
opened the clamp on Sylvie’s catheter and closed the hole with a first torrent
of Sylvie’s pee. Five times she pressed the clipper, each time more painful,
till closing the wound with wart’s tincture brought Lydia shrieking to her
knees, while tearing the catheter and the but plug with one mighty pull from
Sylvie’s holes, making them bleed, both of them sobbing from pain and loss and
saying good bye and that never ending tightness in their pussies.
‘You … ok?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
Her voice raspy, she must have screamed into her pillow, coming again and
again, the picture of her aunt overlapping with her recollections of Lydia and
the girlish sighs next to her.
‘Wow … I never … strong like that.’
‘Sorella, sorella mia …’
Someone was crying. Someone was stroking her pubic hairs. Her eyes felt like
lead, her head a train station. This blurry face must be Mila’s.
‘Elisabeth, viens vite, elle s’est réveillée …’
Mila’s voice was too loud.
‘No, not you …’
‘Oh, sorry …’
That must have been Toni. She was naked. He probably died of embarrassment
just now. Ah, she still could laugh, even if her head was bursting.
‘She’s laughing. Oh, you gave us all a fright.’
Elisabeth’s warm English voice and the stroking of her hair felt so good.
Home. She reopened her eyes.
‘Yes girl, that’s good. Now stay alert, we have to make sure that if the
concussion makes your brain swell, we know immediately. So Mila will keep you
company and if it means she tells you her life story three times over to keep
you awake, ok?’
Elisabeth surveyed her body as if to make sure that she hadn’t overseen any
other injuries, her look lingering just a little too long on her wild blond
reddish pubic hair. Elisabeth knew. She had found out early during one of
their communal showers. She had hugged her right there, wet breasts to wet
breasts, just telling her how sorry she felt for her. She never asked
questions about it, but every time she saw Sylvie naked she stared holes into
her pussy. And although day in day out she treated the local women, who all
were cut in one way or another, she was mesmerized by Sylvie’s empty pink slit
peeking through that forest. She looked up into Mila’s olive face, who averted
her eyes. She sighed.
‘Let’s cover her up, I know it’s hot, but Toni is walking up and down like a
wounded lion and he’s not gonna stop till he sees that his driver is fine.’
The single sheet they used as a cover actually accented her nakedness even
more and poor Toni didn’t know where to look, when he finally was allowed to
visit.
‘I know I told you never to swerve with a jeep as they always have a tendency
to roll over, but that bull would have taken out my side even with a bull bar.
And thanks for having the car fall over to your side.’
That was one of Toni’s typical clumsy jokes. He was rather good at them.
‘It’s ok, shorty.’
She liked to tease him that they were the same size. Her finger followed the
scratch on his arm.
‘That’s nothing, just the door when I tried to get you out.’
It was obvious that his hard on was getting massive.
‘Jones will not be happy that I totalled the car.’
She wanted to keep him talking to see how big the tent in his shorts would
grow. Mila had a look of utter fascination and disgust on her face.
‘But no, there’s not much damage. The Meringo boys, who were supposed to herd
those cattle, which ran on the road, helped with the lifting of the car. …But
I should check on it now.’
And off he went, bend over like a pretzel, trying to hide his erection. She
had to hold her head with both hands, it hurt so much to laugh. The look on
Mila’s face had her nearly doubling over again.
‘What?’
‘You want to fuck him.’
Her voice full of venom, her eyes glowing black with anger, her cheekbones
turning ochre.
‘You want to fuck him with that?’
With one snap of her hand she had removed the sheet and pointed at Sylvie’s
pussy. Sylvie nearly confessed that she actually had thought of offering her
asshole, but Mila’s look of betrayal stopped her humorous reply.
‘How can you want to do this like that … for fun …it’s bad enough for having
babies.’
‘What are you talking about …’
‘You know what I talk … and I know what feels like …’
Sylvie was dumbfounded. Mila’s sudden Mediterranean outburst culminated in her
ripping off her dress and standing there in the nude, beautiful like always,
but not as shameful as before when they went to their common trickle shower.
Her olive skin blameless, her female form perky and mellow at the same time,
her thick black bush glowing in the evening sun, her look defiant and full of
sadness as she moved closer to the bed and opened her legs, her bush, her …
Nothing there, just a small pink oval of flesh, slightly wet, closed, smelling
of dark un-showered chocolate with a rose filling. Sylvie gasped.
‘Jesus, now I understand. But that’s not your usual cutting job, that looks
like a major surgical procedure, but it’s one hell of a pretty pussy.’
Sylvie was so surprised, she forgot all inhibitions and started exploring
without even asking. She prised open the oval, finding a hymen with just one
tiny hole in the middle, so perfectly formed it could only be artificial.
Probing its thickness with her little finger elicited a gasp from Mila, who
looked at Sylvie with wonder and worry.
‘Now that explains everything. Let’s see …’
A moan, a grin, more rouge to her cheeks.
‘They didn’t cut you, they reconstructed you. They basically put your clit
under the skin and if I press here …’
A shriek, a giggle and Mila hopped away, her own hands covering her pussy.
‘Come back here, I was just starting to have fun.’
‘No fun, not good.’
‘What are you talking about? We had a lot of fun every night with our little
wanking sessions. Come here, beauty, and lie with me. You know Elisabeth gave
you the grave task of telling me your life story. And I just found the reason,
why I really want to hear it now.’
Against all prejudice about Mediterranean temperament, reminding Mila of duty
always worked with her. So she lay her head on Sylvie’s chest, her legs
straddling Sylvie’s leg, her knee grazing Sylvie’s pussy teasingly as she
started talking in her broken Italian English, a melancholic melody, which fit
so well with her pouting lips and the tears, which kept coming and going.
When her mother left with a younger man, her father became obsessed with
revenge and making an example of female servitude out of his own daughter.
Being rich and from old family, no one could stop him. Mila was convinced that
even her mother’s deadly accident was everything but coincidence. It gave her
father now all the possibilities of a sole caretaker. He used it to send her
off to a Swiss boarding school at 12 years of age. On the way, however, they
made a short stop in this private clinic, supposedly for a health certificate.
When she woke up, her sex was basically gone. She raved and screamed for one
week, not from pain but from the sheer terror of her modification, not from
loss, as she had been trained even by her mother never to touch down there,
but from the feeling of betrayal. On his return her father found a numb soul,
ready to accept that this was the necessary procedure to make her the perfect
wife that she was supposed to become right after boarding school. This year in
Africa was her revenge as she had eloped secretly the day before her father
was supposed to pick her up for presentation to eligible bachelors. Her worry
now was that he might find her and force her to marry one of those brutes, who
would try to tear open her little hole to make babies.
‘But do you fake it? I mean it sounded like you’re having fun as well.’
‘I rub up here and it feels good, but you press … feels … very good.’
Mila giggled bashfully.
‘Oh, we’re going to have so much fun experimenting. I think your father’s
surgeon played a little trick on him and you can have much more pleasure than
your father intended and you think.’
Mila’s eyes sparkled in their special boarding school mischief way, when a
shadow crossed her face. She stood up and walked across the room to Sylvie’s
computer.
‘I’m not sure … I trust.’
This girl changed moods like the African weather changed during rainy season.
She tossed printed out mails on Sylvie’s belly, Aunt Agnes photo on top.
‘Elisabeth asked to contact your family … no connection … but I found that.
Your family … one of them. Cutters.’
It was spit out with utter contempt. And it hit Sylvie were she herself felt
very vulnerable at the moment. She remembered now that she was pondering
exactly these questions, when the bull jumped on the road. She should have
seen him coming from further away, but her thoughts were with her aunt. And
why she was making a film to denounce the traditions of these tribes as
barbaric and in need to be changed, when her own family had a similar
tradition. And why she had troubles condemning practices, where in all
inevitability there still was this moment of free will, when these young women
decided that this is what they wanted. And why even in situations of forced
circumcision, where she felt like being raped herself, the moment the blade
touched the clit her pussy convulsed.
‘Yes, we are. My family is in the female circumcision business for many
generations. But nowadays it is exclusively voluntary. It is one of many
possible body modifications, people ask for, like piercings or tattoos or also
male circumcision.’
Somehow that sounded lame even for her own ears.
‘Have you read it?’
Mila had lost her original enmity, her hands not on her hips anymore, but one
playing with her smelly pubic hair, the other scratching her hipbone.
‘Only the picture. Who is it?’
‘My aunt. She was the cutter in our family and now as she has handed the role
to her daughter, she was finally free to cut herself.’
Mila had sat down, shaking her head.
‘Cut herself … crazy. Why? How?’
‘She build a machine, actually Uncle Bernie, a friend of my father helped her
built the machine. You see there. Her breasts are stuck in these metal circles
and you see on the side? That looks like laser scalpels and they are already
halfway through her breasts.’
‘Mama mia … sick, sick …’
Despite her obvious disgust, Mila couldn’t stop looking.
‘And down there, it’s not very clear, but her pussy really looks very puffed
up sticking out of the middle of this metal grip. And these two robotic arms
they have laser scalpels on top and they must be … yes look they basically
must have cut already through her whole pussy, outer lips and all, and are
just about to cut her clit. That’s what Cassie meant with the moment of
truth.’
Mila had taken the photograph, looking at Aunt Agnes’ grimacing face. Mila’s
big eyes were conveying confusion.
‘She … happy?’
‘You know what? My head is hurting, my eyes are hurting. Why don’t you read me
my sister’s mail? It’s good for your English and we might find both the
answers we’re seeking.’
Mila sat cross-legged on the bed, starting to read in her girlish, raunchy
voice, which would have enticed Sylvie to close her eyes were it not for the
tantalizing prospect to steal some pink glimpse in a black forest. Not easy in
the oscillating light of one pulp, which in itself was already a luxury, due
to the successful negotiations by Pastor Jones in the big town. One more hour
of electric light instead of candles.
‘What was that?’
‘What? …”She said she failed me …”.’
‘No, before:’
‘…”one hour earlier to cut all her hair.”
So Cassie had the privilege to prepare Aunt Agnes for the big day. Sylvie’s
cousin Mandy had confessed that they had cut Cassie, but instead of being mad,
Aunt Agnes apologized for not being there for her niece when she needed her.
This was her way of saying sorry.
‘…”All the hair went into a bag. She asked me to make sure that together with
her body parts they will be buried in the garden and to plant a tree on top
and she hopes that her grand children will play under it and remember her that
way as she will be living far away with the Skoptsy.” Who …Skoptschi?’
‘Skoptsy. Originally a Russian orthodox sect, which nullified themselves, so
they could be closer to God. Nowadays not all of these groups are really
religious, they just enjoy each others sexless company, often living in
commune like situations.’
‘Skop … Skoptsy. You’re … one of them?’
‘Oh no. But it seems my aunt joined them and don’t ask me why, I haven’t got a
clue.’
‘Here it says: “We helped Aunt Agnes into Wendy’s car and off they went.”’
‘But you left out two pages:’
Mila squirmed, shrugging her shoulders, pouting.
‘But it’s … troppo orribile, I’m not sure I can read this.’
‘Please, please, my head is killing me.’
Mila grunted in half protest, flapping her legs, each time revealing wet
pinkness unintentionally, which made it even more salivating, helped by each
gust of female aroma mingling with Sylvie’s own.
‘”It was just us women and she asked us to honour her with our nakedness,
standing in front of the glass cube which contained the machine: Mother, who
nowadays seems to totally shave, so her seamless cleft beckons everyone to
touch. Uncut Mandy with her pale skin, her silky black hair crying out to be
parted, so I could lick her clit. And then Wendy: I couldn’t take my eyes off
her. Neutral, like the day she was born, even less so as her pubes were flat
like a doll. I so wanted to touch her, when everyone gasped. Aunt Agnes had
mounted the robot and it came to life, cradling her, prodding her, forcing her
into obscene positions. We saw a wand approaching her spread pussy,
penetrating her. When she opened her mouth for a silent scream it must have
penetrated her cervix and started to fuse her ovaries, neutering her forever.
There were tears running down her face. Although in tears herself Mandy tried
to explain to mother that she should stop the attempts to enter the glass cube
as for hygienic reason it would only open at the end of the operation. Mother
was desperate, she so wanted to hold, to comfort her sister.”’
Mila had tears in her eyes and started raving in Italian, ‘pazzo’ figuring
prominently in her tirade, which ended with ‘Who’s Wendy?’
‘My aunt’s best friend. But she took my aunt’s husband and as a prize she paid
with her sexuality. Well, at least part of it because what I heard, she and
Uncle Jeff fuck like crazy, I assume she lets him fuck her ass.’
Her eyes big like wheels, Mila’s mouth emptied another round of rather
elaborate sounding Italian swear words. Sylvie used the time to look again at
this incredibly powerful image of her aunt. Now she knew, the photo reminded
her of one she had seen before: The last Chinese being executed by being
skinned alive. The same grimace of unimaginable pain and the pleasure of
oblivion.
‘…”It seemed to take forever. Mandy and mother were holding each other, they
couldn’t look anymore. I was hiding behind my camera, shooting photo after
photo. Wendy was at the glass, straight as a rod, her eyes linked with Aunt
Agnes. When the moment finally came and her breasts fell from her body at the
same moment as her clit died and the metal tray received the whole pouch of
her sex and her screams could be heard even through the sound proof glass,
Wendy shook like a leave. I don’t know, if it was the sympathy of true
friendship, the pity of the equal or the feeling of final revenge, but she was
in there with Aunt Agnes every second of her suffering. The moment the door
opened with a hiss, she was at her side stroking her face, while Mandy, all
nurse again, checked on her Ma’s vitals and kept on shaking her head, while
looking at her closed pussy: ‘Look at that scar. This machine is totally out
of this world. No doctor could make perfect stitches like that. Even the
catheter is set in correctly.’” What’s … catheter?’
It took some time till the question registered as Sylvie was holding images in
her head that played very well with the rubbing her G spot was taking from the
two fingers in her pussy. They had just snuck in there by accident. Mila’s
look said it all: Disgust had transformed into lust, her own fingers playing
unconsciously with her wet pubic hair.
‘It’s a plastic tube, which drains your bladder, to prevent any problems from
the swelling or the scaring after a cutting. That’s often the problem with the
mutilations they perform here: That they close up the pee hole and then the
girls die from renal failure.’
Mila’s interest in medical explanations had waned the moment Sylvie’s pussy
made a squelching noise, painting Sylvie’s fingers white.
‘That feels good?’
Sylvie nodded, while Mila had to force herself to return to the mail.
‘”Aunt Agnes was barely conscious. Mom kept repeating to her, how much she
loves her and how much she will miss her. It reminded me of Grandma’s story
with Aunt Margaret. We helped Aunt Agnes …” I read that already. There is
still …”PS: Do you think, Dad is gay? I saw him holding hands with Uncle
Bernie. And I think Mom is even in on it, she was standing there looking at
them smiling.” Your father … homosexual?’
‘What shall I say? My family, always good for surprises … Oops.’
They both laughed. The generator had just cut out and darkness enveloped them
and gave the sounds of the African savannah even stronger resonance. Sylvie
felt a finger pressing on the empty spot on top of her pussy. She cooed her
agreement.
‘Sorry, but out of work. No surprise there. I think, however, we should pay a
naked surprise visit to dear Toni and have a serious talk about virginity.’
Their eyes slowly adjusting, they clung to each other and giggled their way to
the door.
* * * |
Todd II - al-Qaeda Strike Back 2 | BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Josh wakes up to meet two of his kidnappers. | ` TODD II – AL-QAEDA STRIKE BACK `
By Pueros
For Bboy, with thanks for all his hard work for eunuch.org!
Chapter 2 – Hostages
(Afghanistan, October 2001 [5 months earlier])
Osama bin Laden was sitting on a rock near the entrance to his hideout
complex, surrounded by a few sycophantic cronies, when the doctor emerged from
the cave. The physician, an Arab from Libya, was the same man who had
performed a penectomy on Abu seven years earlier (see ‘Taleban’ – author). He
approached his leader.
“Ah, Doctor,” said bin Laden, “thank you for coming to see me. It appears that
the American infidels are reacting much more vigorously to our just strike
against their iniquitous institutions than we thought they would. We have
therefore decided to take stand-by measures in case any of our glorious
comrades are captured.”
Two weeks later, four young boys arrived to be taken, one by one, to see the
doctor in his well-equipped medical facility within the cave complex. The
first and oldest, a 14 years old, having just lost his anal virginity to the
medical practitioner, was strapped naked to the same table on which Abu had
lost his cock. The man picked up a scalpel, which he placed against the lower
base of the boy’s hardening penis.
“No, in Allah’s name, no!” screamed the boy as the incision was carefully
initiated despite the spurting blood and semen.
Later, Osama bin Laden was again sitting on a rock near the entrance to his
hideout complex, surrounded by a few sycophantic cronies, when the doctor came
to see him.
“Ah, Doctor,” said bin Laden, “thank you for coming to see me. Work
completed?” “Yes,” the smiling physician replied, “and the penises of the four
northern trash have been frozen until they are needed.”
(Somewhere in England, March 2002, 7p.m.)
At the same time that DCS Burrows started interviewing his mother, Josh
regained consciousness. The terrified 14 years old found himself on a mattress
placed on the floor of what looked like an otherwise empty windowless cellar.
His hands had been securely tied behind him with rope and his feet were also
tightly bound. Tape had been wrapped around his head to silence his mouth.
Josh’s last lesson at school had been gym and the boy had not bothered
changing back into his normal clothes. He had decided instead to bundle them
into his kit bag and rush home, not far away, to have his shower and redress
in casual garb there. The lad was accordingly dressed, at the time of his
abduction, in all-white gym apparel, comprising t-shirt, shorts, with skimpy
speedo underneath, ankle socks and plimsolls. The seductive charms of such
attire was to prove unfortunate for the youngster.
Josh, like his older brother, Todd, was a very pretty boy. He shared his
sibling’s gorgeous brown-haired hazel-eyed features, matched with immaculately
proportioned frame. However, unlike the 17 years old, the 14 years old had not
yet developed any body hair above his smooth genitals or under his arms. He
also still possessed a cock, although for how long remained to be seen.
(Somewhere else in England, March 2002, 8p.m.)
Coincidentally, the kidnapped 15 years old English boy, son of a cabinet
minister, was dressed similarly to Josh. James was an excellent cross-country
runner and had been training alone, within the vast grounds of the public
school where he boarded, when some bearded men had appeared from bushes to the
side of his lonely route. The handsome English lad was to wake up one hour
after the American but was the first to lose his virginity.
(London, England, March 2002, 9p.m.)
Ben had called round to see Todd, still his best friend despite the fact that
he no longer had the cock that the English teen had termed his ‘Statue of
Liberty’.
The authorities had so far managed to prevent news of the abductions from
being broadcast, although most media organisations were aware of the crimes as
a result of leaks. The British Home Secretary had issued gagging orders,
termed ‘D notices’, to stifle publication but it was feared that this stance
could not be held for long. It was recognised that news would probably filter
out sooner rather than later, if only in France or Germany, the countries
where the other two kidnappings had occurred, or in America, from where three
of the young victims emanated. However, DCS Burrows believed that a lack of
publicity for as long as possible would give the politicians more room for
manoeuvre in negotiations if the police were unable to track down the al-Qaeda
terrorists responsible.
Ben was eventually allowed into the house to see his friend as the DCS felt
that the damage had already been done. The English teen would be suspicious of
the obvious police presence and so might as well be brought into the secret.
He might also be of some comfort to the young kidnap victim’s distraught
brother.
Ben encouraged Todd to go to his bedroom. The English 17 years old considered
that it would be best to talk to the American 17 years old, devastation
evident in his face, in privacy. Todd sat on his bed and Ben did so too,
putting his arm around his friend. The American then did what he had wanted to
do ever since he had heard what had happened. He burst into tears. Ben gently
held his friend’s head closely next to his chest, quietly saying “It’s
alright, get it out of your system.”
Five minutes later, Todd finally stopped sobbing and wiped his gorgeous eyes.
Ben, hoping that the action was not out of place, gave his now red-eyed friend
a brief kiss, eliciting a sweet smile in response. Todd regained his composure
and started talking.
(Somewhere in England, March 2002, 11p.m.)
Two men, of Arab appearance and in their late 20s, entered Josh’s cellar
prison, re-locking the heavy metal door behind them, and untied the boy. Both
kidnappers were lured not by concern for their young captive but by the sight
of his lovely lithe bare legs revealed beneath the short white shorts. “Do not
struggle or attempt to escape,” one said in strongly accentuated English as
the lad’s bonds and gag were removed, “obey all instructions and speak only
when permitted.”
Josh did not comply. When the tape had painfully been ripped off his beautiful
face, the boy immediately demanded answers to various rapidly issued
questions. “Where am I?” “What am I doing here?” “Why was I tied up?” “Who are
you?” However, before he could finish demanding “Take me home at once”, the 14
years old was slapped harshly across the face and, even more agonisingly, in
the balls, causing him to double up, grasping his assaulted genitals.
When he had partially recovered from his torment, Josh’s sensuous tearful eyes
focused on what one of the two now standing men held in his right hand. “Obey
all instructions and speak only when permitted,” repeated the other Arab
loudly, this time securing compliance, reinforced by the pistol held by his
colleague.
“Stand up!” the Arab ordered and Josh, still holding his hurting genitals,
slowly obeyed, swaying a little on the soft mattress. The kidnappers paused to
look at the delectable vision in front of them before the talker amongst the
pair continued by commanding “Strip!”
(Somewhere else in England, March 2002, same time)
James, now unbound and naked, lay face-down on his mattress. Three of his
captors, a European and two Pakistanis, had just left. The boy’s lips and chin
were caked with drying semen. Large amounts of sperm were also visible between
his bumcrack and on the insides of his upper legs.
Fellatio and sodomy, especially in a homosexual context, are sins for all
Muslims but the proscription of these forbidden practices is probably, even
more than adultery, the most ignored in the Islamic world, as the young
previously virgin English boy had just discovered.
(Paris, France, same time)
The maverick newspaper editor, desperate for a scoop to help to reverse
declining sales, had chosen to ignore government requests. He instead decided
his headlines for the next morning’s first edition. The main headline read, in
French, ‘4 Boys Abducted by al-Qaeda’ whilst the sub-heading announced
‘Terrorists Make Demands For Safe Return’. DCS Burrows was later to explode in
anger as his stratagem regarding secrecy was ruined sooner than expected. He
correctly anticipated that politicians would now speedily state publicly that
they could not give in to terrorist threats and expected a quick reaction from
the kidnappers to show that they really meant business. The detective surmised
what this response would most likely be, wondering which of the four poor
abducted boys would lose his penis early to allow the captors to make their
point.
(To be continued in chapter 3 – ‘Demands’)
* * * |
The Emasculation of Bill....Chapter 7 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES, water sports mentioned | Shelley brings her neighbor over for a session with Bill. He drinks gallons of their pee and they torture his balls with needles, hands, paddles, etc. Shelley finally gets her hand in his ass. | The Emasculation of Bill…..Chapter 7
The next day, Vicky, my 45 year old friend and neighbor, was so eager that she
rang the bell at Bill's house 30 minutes before I had told her to be there. I
told her to wait in the den while I prepared Bill for today's session. She had
dressed in schoolmarmish fashion as I had asked her to do. He had a thing
about them, also. A short skirt, slit front and back, white sleeveless blouse,
matching jacket, sheer black nylons, garter belt, 4 inch stilettos and no bra,
her large breasts and prominent nipples apparent under the sheer material. She
looked really sexy.
Bill had already laid out my outfit for the day. It was very simple and
consisted of a short vinyl dress, very low cut, crotchless fishnet pantyhose
and a pair of strappy, black classic pumps. He always picked well. As I was
getting dressed I told him to put on his cuffs and get under the potty with
his legs spread wide. He was to make sure he had some rubber donuts on his
balls and the suction devices on his nipples at maximum pressure. After
changing into my outfit I secured his ankles to a 3 foot spreader bar and his
wrists to some eye bolts on the potty. His poor balls were still very swollen
and nearly solid purple with bruises. His cock was a mass of bruises and welts
and the peehole was still dilated. I had made him sleep with one of the medium
butt plugs in his ass just to keep it stretched open. He had given himself an
enema this morning so he was all cleaned out and ready. We would be working on
both of his openings today and, I felt confident, would be fisting his asshole
and fingering his peehole before we we're done with him.
After making sure that all was in order I went downstairs to get Vicky and
tell her our kinky plans for the day. She was so anxious. She walked in the
dungeon ahead of me and gasped in amazement. After taking in all the bondage
and torture furniture she walked over to the potty and introduced herself to
Bill, telling him how much she was looking forward to this, her first session.
He smiled and thanked her. I told her that the first thing I wanted her to do
was sit down on the potty and pee in his mouth. The front part of the seat was
open and she could watch her hot pee go in his mouth. I was going to be
kicking him in the nuts with my high heels and wanted her to do the same when
I was peeing on him. She jumped at the chance and slowly lowered her plump ass
on to the potty seat, all the time looking between her legs at his face and
open mouth. It took a few seconds for her flow to start but, when it did, it
was like a garden hose at full volume. Wow, this girl could pee and it seemed
to last an inordinate amount of time. Poor Bill must be drowning under there.
I could hear him swallowing in earnest. In the meanwhile I was kicking his
swollen balls with the point of my classic pumps. He was jumping with each
accurate blow and I was enjoying watching and feeling the impact as I
connected with his swollen nuts. She finally finished emptying the warm, salty
contents of her bladder into his open mouth. My turn now. I'd been waiting all
morning for this treat. I peered down at him and his entire head was slick
with her pee. She must be a 'sprayer' I thought. Oh well, too bad for Bill as
I lowered my pussy towards his waiting mouth. Vicky started kicking his nuts
before I'd even sat down and her first few kicks weren't too accurate. A
couple of times she missed totally with her toe and drove the sharp heel of
her stiletto into his ballsac. He yelped both times but did manage to say
thank you to both of us. I untied him, removed the spreader bar and told him
to get in the gyno chair. He indicated his bladder was now full and he had to
pee. I told him to get in the chair. I'd purchased some male catheters and
wanted to invade his bladder with them. I also planned on putting some liquids
in him with those catheters and some kinky enema nozzles I'd found.
Before putting him in the chair I told him to lay on the floor and pleasure
Vicky with his mouth. She quickly mounted his head, facing his now bleeding
balls and started riding his face. It didn't take long and she started
cumming. She was grinding her ass and pussy on his face and, at the same time,
slapping and hitting his cock and balls. Her screams of ecstasy were echoing
off the walls. I took the opportunity to load up the cart with all the toys I
planned on using on him today. When I was finished, she was still riding hard
so I decided to roll 4 or 5 joints. Damn, she was still grinding her pussy on
his mouth and his nose was buried in her ass. She must have had 20 orgasms
and, when I finally pulled her off, he was panting like a race horse and his
face was covered with her juices.
She helped me secure him in the gyno chair and we made sure he had no wiggle
room. I got one of the catheters off the cart, lubed it up and started pushing
it down his dilated peehole. When it got to the entrance for his bladder, I
put the end into a small pail under the chair. When I gave the final push, he
groaned and the contents of his bladder splashed into the pail. I loved having
the control and I was going to use his pee as an enema later that night, just
for the humiliation of draining his own pee into his ass. I fired up two
joints and we all got high as I blew huige shotguns into Bill's lungs.
It was time for the session to begin. The first thing to do was fill his ass
with the 3 inch dildo. We pulled the 2 1/2 incher out of his ass and it stayed
wide open. The big one almost slid inside of him. We had to do some pushing
but it finally slid in and his sphincter closed on the smaller base. Next was
the bigger sized steel rod. It took some work and Vicky helped by holding his
rigid dick for me as I shoved it into his peehole. Last was the elastrator
band around his sore, swollen testicles. When the powerful band snapped shut
on his defenseless balls, he gave a shudder and my pussy immediately
discharged a load of arousal juices down my thighs. I loved this so much. My
clit was growing like a miniature penis as the blood rushed to my vagina. My
nipples grew hard and tight. The sensitive tips throbbing with every beat of
my heart. Vicky could sense the excitement and reached down to fondle his cock
and balls. I reached between her legs as Bill's cock stood at attention. Her
juices were flowing copiously and coated my fingers as I fondled her gaping
pussy. I was so horny already. I really needed to start torturing him.
Vicky was still holding his dick with the steel rod about halfway embedded in
his peehole. I told her to start fucking his cock with the steel rod while I
inserted 25 or 30 needles into his balls. I told her the object of all of this
was to cause pain to him and at the same time bring pleasure to us. She nodded
and commenced to ramming the steel rod in his peehole. With each stroke she
got it in deeper and harder. Meanwhile, I started with some short needles so I
could tap some of his ballsap and drain it off. Next, I went to the middle
size, 1 and 1/4 inch, and put 5 in each testicle. They were perfect for
reaching right into the very middle. I loved moving them around inside of him,
hopefully mangling his sperm making cells. Finally, I grabbed 10 of the long,
2 inch needles and pushed them all completely through his balls from the
bottom up. It really excited me to feel them going through all the different,
fibrous layers before poking thru the skin on the other side. My pussy was a
wreck. It felt like my heart was inside my vagina. When the last needle was
cutting its' way thru his testicle, I could feel that familiar wave of
pleasure start deep inside my pussy. My God, I was cumming from torturing
Bill's balls. I didn't have to touch myself or anything. Wave after wave of
pleasure coursed thru my pussy. The juices flowed down my thighs. I thought,
this is my greatest discovery ever. I could get good at this. My two favorite
things.....orgasms and torturing Bill and now, I can do then both at the same
time. I had perhaps found the perfect storm. Now it was Vicky’s turn with the
needles. She was a little nervous and had poor Bill’s balls bleeding
everywhere. She finally got all 20 needles inserted in his testicles and she
loved doing it. We’d only been working on him for 40 minutes or so and the
band didn’t have to come off for at least 20 minutes. It was time to fist
Bill’s ass.
I went first and started with all 4 fingers in his ass. When I added the thumb
it got a lot tighter. He got nervous and tightened up his sphincter. I used my
other hand and started slapping his balls. I knew that jarring the needles
caused terrible shooting pains in his testicles. He quickly loosened his butt
cheeks and my hand popped in, clear to the wrist. Wow, it was so tight and so
hot inside his ass. It felt good to me. I began pushing my hand further into
his colon. I was invading his body. It was making me very horny. Vicky was
watching intently as my arm disappeared inside his ass. I told her to pleasure
herself on his face while I fistfucked his asshole. I wanted her to torture
him with her ample ass and wet pussy. She needed no additional prompting and
quickly commenced sliding her wetness on his face. Her first orgasm was pretty
intense and she forced her ass down on his flicking tongue. Her eyes lit up
and I knew that Bill was tasting her asshole and snaking his tongue inside of
her. It felt so good to have a hot, wet tongue fucking your ass and only a
devoted slave loved to service a woman's asshole and he was quickly becoming
very devoted. Vicky screamed out as his tongue probed her anus, bringing her
to a gigantic orgasm. She slid her pussy back over his face and quickly had
another. She said she had to pee and I told her to ahead and empty your
bladder while he's licking your pussy. He likes to suck your pee directly from
your fountain if you can stand the intensity of it. She started her flow and
then eased her pussy onto his waiting mouth. He latched on like a leech and
started sucking the hot pee out of her. She started moaning and crying out
from the intensity of the orgasms she was having. I knew the feeling so well.
Once he started sucking, you could relax your bladder and it felt like the
inside of your pussy was being sucked out. It was unbelievably intense. We
switched places and I allowed him to lick my pussy and tongue my ass. Lucky
for him that it gave me great pleasure for him to do it. He was also given the
special treat of sucking my golden pee out of my bladder. It was very good but
I still enjoyed watching my stream of warm piss splashing in his mouth.
Meanwhile, Vicky was loving having her hand in his ass. She was fucking him
with gusto. I checked the clock and were over an hour with the band, so it was
time to take a break. We quickly removed the needles and I cut the band off
his swollen, bleeding nuts.
The rest of the session was lots more of the same. We had our hands in his
ass, fistfucking him so much that his ass became dilated and would not close.
It was so cool. I found a flashlight and we looked up his colon. It was all
pink with hundreds of blue blood vessels. We put over 200 needles in his
testicles that day. I hoped we killed lots of those sperm making cells. Vicky
loved fucking his peehole with the steel rods and she got the largest sized
one in him so far. We didn't do much to his nipples except keep them pumped
up. I just loved how they looked, like a teenage girl's little puffy titties.
The highlight of Vicky's day was sitting on Bill's face while he licked her
dripping pussy, sucked the pee from her bladder and tongued her asshole. She
must have drank 20 Cokes just so she could pee more. At one time we had Bill
on the floor, legs spread so I could mash his balls with my pumps while she
was smothering him with her ass. She would squat over his face and, right
before she sat on him, she would spread her ass cheeks so he could get his
tongue further inside her anus. She would have violent orgasms while poor Bill
damn near suffocated. I could barely believe the punishment he could take and
all he would do was say thank you over and over. I had truly met the perfect
man for me.
Our session was winding down and we had done a lot. Vicky said she thought
she'd had over 100 orgasms and I had no idea how many I'd had but it was a
lot. It was time for Bill to have his. I always wanted his orgasms to be
associated with pain. I wanted him to become addicted to the pain so it would
always be part of his cumming. This time I had a band on him and had put his
balls in a ball crushed that looks like a wood vise but, instead of two
boards, it has two pieces of plexiglass about 6 inches square. As you tighten
the vice on his nuts you can see them flattening out. Great visual. This time
I was going to tighten the vice as much as I could and when he started getting
close I was going to shove 2 long needles into his testicles, one from each
side. I would, of course, prevent any of his ball juice from coming out of his
cock. I gave Vicky one of the needles. I had the other and was stroking his
super hardon, waiting for the trembling that preceded his eruption. It didn't
take long. Just as he got to the point of no return, we pushed the 2 inch
needles in his balls. It was really hard as his balls were so compressed. I
clamped down on his urethra as hard as I could. He shook with the intensity
and screamed out as the nasty cum tried and tried to erupt. I held on until
his waves of pain/pleasure finally subsided. Not a drop leaked out. It all
stayed inside of him, just like it always would.
I was exhausted. Vicky left and we climbed into bed, got into the spoon
position and fell fast asleep. We'd clean up the mess the next morning. As I
closed my eyes, visions of swollen testicles under my feet danced before my
eyes. God, how I loved this, I thought.
* * * |
Volleyball Nets and Nuts | GAY, TESTICLES | Two volleyball teams compete in a game of strip-volley ball. But things go too far, and the loser looses all. | Tom and John had been fierce competitors in every sport since grade 7.
Baseball, basketball, football, track, swimming; it didn't matter. They always
played against each other, and refused to be on the same team. Both being
excellent athletes, their coach was furious that the two would not cooperate
on the same team to win their school some trophies.
All through high school, their competition kept them on separate teams, always
playing against each other.
However, once they graduated, they went to different colleges, and both ended
up captains of the different volley ball teams.The two colleges were heavy
competitors in more than just athletics, so their coaches really encouraged
their determination to beat each other. Tom and John would inspire their
fellow team members to new heights and fierce, almost deadly, competition
before screaming, cheering crowds.
One weekend the two teams were playing against each other, and try as they
might, neither team could score higher than the other, until finally, after
several time extensions, the game was called as a tie. Neither Tom or John
could accept this, and so convinced their teams that a private game was
necessary to determine a winner. To make it more interesting, and more
humiliating to the loser, they would play a game of STRIP volley ball. Each
score would cause the losing team to lose an article of clothing. They would
play for shirts, then shorts, and finally jockstraps, the losing team ending
up naked on the court.
The two teams met the next morning on the empty court, and the game began that
would have drastic results by its' end.
Tom's team scored first, and John's men removed their shirts and threw them
down on Tom's side of the net.Tom's team lost the next two plays, and found
themselves, to their rage and their opponents' delight, jumping around in
nothing but their jockstraps, their pouches jiggling and quivering with their
efforts to win the next play.
Which they did, leaving both teams, eight hot young men, with their asses
exposed, framed by the straps of their jocks.
John's team won the next play, and Tom and his men pulled down their
jockstraps and each man handed his strap to an opposing team member. John's
team was laughing, pointing at the losers' exposed cocks and balls, and
snapping the trophy jockstraps at the losers' bare asses, when Tom, furious at
losing, had an idea.
"We'll play one more game to see if we can win your jocks. If we win, we're
all naked. If my team loses, John can shave my cock and balls! What do you
say?"
John wanted to humiliate Tom so much, he would never compete with him again.
"You're on. One more game."
The game that followed was the dirtiest, foulest play that any referee would
ever have seen. Jock waistbands and leg straps were pulled and snapped;
flopping cocks and wildly swinging testicles were grabbed and manhandled.
Until finally Tom's team scored.
Not waiting for John to step out of his jockstrap, Tom reached forward and
tore it from John's body. Brandishing it above his head, Tom did a wild war
dance, whooping and shouting and jumping around, his cock semi-hard and
slapping from thigh to thigh, his big balls swinging back and forth between
his legs as John stood naked, his cock hanging down in defeat, his heavy balls
weighing his sac to bob against his thighs.
As Tom ran up to him to shove the jockstrap in his face, John said, "You do
realize that we're still tied, don't you?"
Tom stopped with his mouth open, swallowing a shout of triumph. "So now what
do we do?"
"You already suggested shaving. How about it. The captain of the team that
loses the next game gets his privates shaved. OK?" Tom agreed.
Tom lost! After almost fifteen minutes of cocks flopping and balls swinging,
ass-grabbing, and scrotum-pulling, Tom's team failed to return the ball, and
Tom was pulled into the bleachers and held down as John ran the clippers
through his black pubic bush, and played with his cock and fondled his big
balls as he shaved with a razor the stubble from his cock and the hair from
his hanging sac. John's team was cheering, and even Tom's team-mates were
laughing when a smoothly shaven Tom was finally released. All of them naked,
everyone was sporting a hard-on by the time a red-faced Tom could cover his
bare crotch with his hands.
John and his team, and the three players from Tom's team were gathering up
their lost jocks and other garments, when Tom called out for them to wait. "I
bet my BALLS my team can beat yours! I demand one more game."
By now John had had enough. He was becoming really angry now. Tom didn't know
when to admit defeat. Gritting his teeth, he strode right up to Tom, grabbed
him by his hairless balls, and shouted, "YOU'RE ON!!!"
Tom played. literally, like his balls depended on it. And his team WON!
Now it was John's turn to be held down, his cock and balls freely handled,
stroked and pulled, and finally shorn. Tom held John's golden pubic curls in
his fingers and let them blow away under John's nose. John leapt to his feet
and threw himself on top of Tom. Their teams finally pulled them apart,
swearing, snarling, striking out at each other. They spoke at the same time.
"Are you still willing to risk your pathetic nuts?"
"Give me one more chance and your balls are MINE!"
The other team players by now were getting really worried about their
captains. If one of them lost, whose balls would be sacrificed next. They
agreed to play if they could dress and that this game would definitely decide
the winner. Tom and John weren't interested in anything but cutting each
others' balls off. The game began once more.
And Tom lost. John pulled a switchblade out of his gym bag and started towards
Tom, who turned and ran for the bleachers, and the exit to the locker room.
John opened the knife and chased after his victim. He caught up with Tom just
as he tried to jump over the railing. With one leg raised to climb over, his
big hanging sac of balls swung back between his legs. As it appeared under his
ass, John grabbed the big ballsac and viciously slashed at the thin scrotal
flesh where it joined Tom's crotch. As Tom tumbled over the railing, he left
his balls hanging from John's fist.As he got to his feet, he felt the first
flame of pain, and looked down to see his cock hanging limp over his bloody
thighs. He grabbed wildly at his crotch feeling the tattered remnant of his
severed sac. He fell back on the seat behind him and brought his legs up, his
knees to his chin, his feet to his ass, his hands covering his mutilated
crotch, and began to cry.
John, now sobered, looked at the fleshy sac of balls hanging from his one
hand, and the bloody knife in the other, and staggered back. The other players
had watched the castration in disbelief. They hadn't thought either captain
could be serious. They bolted in all directions, leaving a naked loser and a
naked winner behind in different states of shock. One couldn't believe what
had happened to him, and the other couldn't believe what he had done.
By the time a college guard came upon the two young men, still naked and in
shock, it was too late to do anything to help the new eunuch, but they were
both taken to the hospital for treatment and therapy.
So the next time you hear someone say, "You bet your balls!", RUN LIKE
HELL!!!!!
* * * |
The Cock Shop | GAY, BI, TESTICLES, MINOR | [Authors note: This story is just a fun tale, different than my usual stories, and even a little weird. As the EA author Zoroaster put it so well when he wrote his fun story "The Pranksters," my suggestion is to just "roll with it." I hope you enjoy it, and if it gives you pleasure, then it's been a worthwhile effort. Like all adult erotic tales, this one should not be posted where minors are likely to see it. -Nathan] | ` **_The Cock Shop_**
In Memory of BBoy, and with compliments to Zoroaster
My names Alfred, Alfred Higgins, and I have one of the larger dick shops in
New York City. Mine's called "The Cock Shop," and it's located just off 42nd
Street, and it's been there a while. Hell, my father opened it right after the
first Tool was invented in July of 2196. Yeah, business has never been better.
I rent cocks, and sell them too. I also have a good selection of full
scrotums, and while they aren’t in the same demand as cocks they still rent
well and there is a good profit in them. But it’s the cocks that are in the
biggest demand, and I rent a lot of them and it’s the mainstay of my business.
Right now I'm running about four hundred dicks, and about a hundred nut sacs.
My shop, like the other shops in the city, mostly have packaged sets from
older men, but I've got some state connections and so I get more than my share
of younger sets and that keeps the money moving and things are good because of
it. The young cocks bring in the real money, and right now I'm getting in new
young, hard cocks, several times a day. I'm open from 8am to 5pm, six days a
week, and I stay busy either taking them in or renting them out every hour
that I'm open.
The key to the whole business was the Tool, or LARGST as it is officially
called. Technically, it's called a Laser Attachment Reattachment Genital
Separation Tool, but everyone just calls it the Tool, and while you have to
have a license to operate one, its not rocket science and its easy to operate.
They are expensive as hell though, so there aren’t that many shops in the
country even, and never will be either. With one of the newer Tools, like
mine, you can take a cock off in under a second, or put it back on again in
just about the same amount of time. Balls are even faster. It’s the perfect
tool, and it does what it's designed to do and it is the Tool of course that
is the key to my entire business.
**_Early Morning
_**
I'm glad you are here, and it will be a pleasure to show you around and share
a day with you. Monday's are my favorites, although Friday afternoons are
always the busiest, with lots of men wanting a cock to rent for the weekend.
Whoa...excuse me, but that bell on the door means I have work to do! My first
customers on Monday mornings are usually the teenager delinquents, who have
been waiting all weekend to see me, even if the waiting wasn't exactly their
own personal choice.
"Hello officers! What have we today?" I say, grinning as I look at the three
charges sulking beside the police officers.
The cops bring me them every morning, sometimes one or two, but occasionally
even more. So, I have three this morning, and as I look over their paperwork I
can't help but smile. The first one's just fourteen, caught shoplifting, and
I'll have his cock for the next three months. It’s a tough sentence for
stealing two candy bars, but hopefully it will teach him a lesson and his pole
will be good for my business.
The second boy is seventeen, a high school senior, and I'm getting his
package, balls and all, and for a one year period. That makes me smile, even
if the kid is bummed. His paperwork says CONVICTION: GRAND THEFT, and I look
at the cop and he says "He's quite the thief. He was hitting cars and homes,
and had quite a collection of goods in his bedroom when we caught him. He's
getting off easy, because he's a juvenile. I laugh....perhaps he is, but the
thought occurs to me that he's not gonna be getting off at all after I get
done with him!
The third youth I like immediately. This one is a red head, and according to
his paperwork he's sixteen and is in here for assault. I want to thank the
judge, as he's given me this boy's balls for the next six months. The cop says
"He keeps beating up other kids, and the judge says a half a year without his
nuts might calm him down. Guess we will see."
I love my job. I'm gay, so working with dicks all day is a great job to have,
and it's fun to take care of them and to make a living off of them. I am proud
of my collection, and my store, and it’s a well run, respected business, and
I've got a good reputation. I stand behind my dicks, and if there is a problem
with one or it doesn’t perform to expectations, then I refund the money for
the rental no questions asked. It was my father's policy, and its part of the
reason that my business is booming.
I look at the boys, and it's obvious they aren't' too happy to be here. I feel
for them, but their young organs will rent well, and I'll make a good profit
with their misfortune. I turn to them and then I say "Well lads, before we get
this done, if any of you want a last wank, it is OK with me. I don't think the
cops will mind, although they will have to watch you as you can't be left
unsupervised until we have done the removal. Still, I was a teenager once, so
if you feel the need then it's OK with me. Just make sure that you don't hurt
the merchandise. Any takers?"
The cops grin, and the boy's blush. Even so, two of them raise their hands,
and I motion to the cops and they escort them to the bathroom to do their
thing. I sometimes will go and watch, just because it's fun to see, and yet I
don't. A lady has come into the store with another teenage boy at her side, so
I decide to get things moving as I don't want to fall too far behind.
I get the Tool, and the third cop motions for the red headed boy, the one that
is here because of his male aggression, and who has elected not to jerk his
pole. As I look as his freckled face I have the thought that by nightfall
he'll wish he had taken me up on the offer to jerk his meat. He comes, as he
has to, and I take him behind the counter. My counter is high, which hides
things well, and there is a least a little privacy although it's not isolated
from the rest of the store by any means. When I am in the back area, doing a
boy, all you can see is the top of my shoulders and my head, so it's at least
semi private and that's where I do them. I have a restraint device chair
against the counter, but he doesn’t require it. I unbuckle his belt, and slide
down his pants and boxer shorts, and the lads big pole almost jumps up at me.
He's got a thick cock, and a thick red bush of pubic hair to go with it. I
heft his big sack of nuts, and then I give his pole a few tugs. It stiffens
some, and I note the boy has an eager pole. Yeah, it’s a nice cock...very
nice. Well, too bad....I wish I could take it too because that's where the
money is.
Oh well. I look at the boy, and grab his scrotum, pulling down on it as I look
at the boy. Remember his name from the paperwork, I then say: "Johnny....that
is your name, right?"
He nods, his face red with the humiliation of losing his balls. I slip the
circular ring of the tool over his nuts, and bring it up high, right against
his body. Then I say "OK kid...this won't really hurt....just a sharp little
jolt and it's done. Don't move."
I press the trigger, and the Tool's circular ring turns florescent blue, and
the boy's balls drop into my hand. He gasps as it happens, and then he looks
down and his castration is over. I say "You did great....you can pull up your
pants now, and I'll see you in six months. In the meantime, I'll take good
care of them."
He looks so dejected. The loss of testosterone will start to have its effects
immediately, and before a few days have passed his eager cock won't quite be
so eager anymore. I feel for the kid, but he'll get used to it, and hopefully
the embarrassment of his friends knowing he's ballless will drive home the
point that settling things with his fists is a bad idea. If he has a girl
friend, she'll have found another guy long before he sees me again.
I quickly enter his data into the computer, and it spits out a label, which I
set under his balls as I place them in the case.
By this time the two other teenagers are back from the bathroom, the two cops
grinning at their sides. The boy's both have red faces now, flushed red the
way they are after a boy has just masturbated and someone has watched them do
it. I motion for the seventeen year old to come behind the counter, and I can
see he starts to hesitate and then changes his mind. He knows its going to
happen, one way or the other, and it is pretty rare that the cops will have to
strap them down. I have the boy lower his own pants, and his face flushes even
a brighter red when he does. His cock is still big, from his recent orgasm,
and I can see the end is wet with the remains of his load still dripping out
the tip. His pole is slowly coming down from his erection, but it's still
engorged with blood and is a big pole and has a thickness to it that makes him
look more mature than he is.
I pick up the Tool, and using my thumb I roll out the knobbed ring to expand
the circular part of the tool and set it to a size that will accommodate his
full package. I then slide everything the boy owns through the ring, and the
boy stares down at it while I'm doing that. I say to him: "Look away.....this
may sting for a second, but it won't last long." The boy looks across the
store, where the next boy, waiting his turn, is staring back at him.
I press the button.
It is done in just a few seconds, and I am holding his nuts and dripping cock
in my hand. They came off together, but the Tool separated them out as it
removed them, so now I have his cock and his balls, each an individual item. I
set his nuts below his cock in a display box, and then place the glass covered
container in the main display case under the counter. I activate the coolant
system in the case, and after that it is done and his manhood is now on
display, ready for a customer to make the purchase. As the boy pulls up his
pants with a look of horror on his face, I enter his data into the computer
and then it spits out the label. I set it under his package, and then close
the case. "FOR RENT: Cock and Balls, 17 Y, S, $U 200; 17MAR2216. 493821"
He gasps. Then he says "What does that mean?"
I look at him and smile. Then I answer: "It says it’s a complete package, from
a 17 year old male, and that it was removed 'satisfied', which basically means
that you, its original owner, jerked off before I removed it. It will rent for
two hundred units per day, and it's available for rental until next year, on
this date. The last number is just a tracking number, and it identifies this
package as yours."
The kid can't believe it. I laugh at his expression, and then his face goes
white as his hands feel the smoothness in the front of his pants. He's been
totally unmanned, and he won't have the feel of a dick for a full year. Worse
for him, his nuts are no longer his for now, and so for the most part his
growth spurt through puberty will stop until he gets them back. That should
teach him!
I look at the fourteen year old, and he's scared shitless. I grin. He doesn’t
want to come, but he does, and as he steps behind the counter he's totally
embarrassed. I like him, and he's cute as hell. I lower his pants for him,
just because I want to, and I see his package and it's obvious he's just into
puberty. Still, his cock tip is wet, slick form his load of cream he spit out
for the cop, and I pick up his dick and lift it up to check its length. I
slide it through the ring on the tool, and then click the ring closed until it
is at its minimum setting. I rub my thumb over the end of it, and I can tell
it's still very sensitive, the nerve endings still over stimulated from his
recent orgasm. Even so, the boy's young cock lengthens. Even though it starts
to grow erect, it's still the cock of a boy for the most part, thin and long,
and I can't help but notice that it is hanging under a sparse bush. It is not
much as cocks go, and won't bring me much income. Still, he's lost it for
shoplifting, and as I have that though I press the button and take it from
him.
He shudders, and stares down then in disbelief. He's still got his nuts, and
they will feed him with desire and his growth through puberty won't be
affected. By tonight he'll be aching for his dick, and within a few days not
having it will start to drive him insane. Three months without a dick is a
tough sentence for a young male, especially when he's still got his balls.
This kid will be so horny by the time I see him next that I know he won't be
late to pick it up. I enter his data, as he pulls up his pants, and as the
machine spits out a label I set his dick in its place.
"FOR RENT: Cock, 14 Y, S, $U 150; 17JUN2215. 564860"
The cops laugh, and wave, and then they walk out the door and leave the
neutered boys to do what they want. Their sentence has been carried out, and
they leave then, in disbelief really, the realization that their manhood is
now mine and they can't do anything about it until the months pass and they
can get their stuff back.
As the boys leave the store, I look to the woman then, and her son, and then I
say "I'm sorry Madame, what can I do for you?"
She looks at her boy, and then back at me, and she says "I've had it with him.
He won't mind me, and I keep catching him with pictures of women. I know he is
playing with himself, and I warned him that the next time he did I'd have his
penis removed until he got himself under control. The boy is just not
listening to me at home, and he won't do as he is told and he talks back to me
all the time. I need to show him who is in control, and I want him to be
without his penis for a while."
I look at the boy. "How old is he?"
"Henry's thirteen. Just thirteen. How much do you give for a boy's cock?"
I look at her, and the boy, and the boy's face is red and he's so humiliated
it is obvious. I say to the lady: "Well....I might suggest that you let him
keep it. His behavior is pretty normal for an adolescent, and I would
think...."
"NO! I don't want him to have it. I'm his mother, and I will decide when he
can have it back. If he behaves himself, and is nice to me and does his
chores, then I'll let him have it, but if he doesn’t, then you'll have it for
as long as is necessary. He's just like his father, and that son of a bitch
didn't deserve his cock. If my son wants his penis, he'll need to behave
himself! So, how much do I get for it?"
I shrug my shoulders. Too bad for the kid. I look at the kid, and motion for
him to come behind the counter. As I do that, I say "Let me look, and then
I'll give you the value. A young one isn't worth as much as one that is
sexually mature."
I unsnap the boy's jeans, and slide down his shorts. His cock is bigger than I
thought it would be, and his nuts too have started to fill his bag. Still,
it’s a boy's dick, and he's only started his journey into manhood. I notice
then the wisp of a mustache on his upper lip. He's got a sparse mound of pubic
hair, typical for a thirteen year old boy. He's definitely started becoming a
man. I heft his rod, and it grows a little thicker and then lengthens in my
fist. In less than thirty seconds, he's got a full stiffy, and it juts out a
good five inches, thin though but eager. The boy's face is red, but his mother
can't see behind the counter so she isn't aware of her son's erection. I skin
the foreskin back, and examine the little purple head of his dick. The kids
got a nice pole and in a few years it will be something to be proud of. I look
at her, and say: "I can give you one hundred units a week. Another shop might
give you more though, but I don't need any more pubescent dicks."
She nods her head, and grins. Then she says "You can have it for six
months....maybe longer. I could use a few thousand right now."
I look at the boy, and his face is white. I heft his dick, and slide the ring
of the Tool over it. He is looking down at his pole, the very essence of him
and the most important thing in his life, and I can see the tears in his eyes.
The end of his cock is dripping, and it's obvious to my well practiced eyes
that he would like to jerk it. Of course, with his mom there, that’s not even
something worth bringing up. I look at her, and, feeling for the kid, I say "I
will only take if for a month, maximum. A growing teenager needs his cock, so
a month is the maximum period at any given time. Besides, it won't grow in the
case, so you don't want to leave it off of him for too long. After you give it
back to him, you can always pawn it again, but he'll need to keep it on at
least a month between periods, otherwise it requires a report to Central.
Today I can give you four hundred units, but that's all."
She nods her head, and then she says "Well...OK. If he behaves himself I'll
let him have it back." I nod to her, and then, looking down at his dick, I
press the button. The boy's stiff cock comes off clean, and he jumps as he
feels the zap. He reaches down, in disbelief, and then he stares at his cock
as I put his cute little boner into a glass covered case. His mom sees his
pole then for the first time, and I think the size of it surprises her, even
though it definitely still has a ways to go. She gasps, and says "I had no
idea he had THAT between his legs!"
The kid's face go beet red. I feel sorry for him. He's frustrated already, and
his pole is eager, and I know by tonight the boy will be freaking out. I look
to the woman and say "A boy's cock is very important to him. If he behaves
himself, I would not make him wait a month. His behavior change is what you
want, so if he gives that to you I would suggest you give him back his rod."
She nods, looking at the stiff pole as I set it on the counter and open the
case that will receive it. She can't take her eyes off of it. Then she says
"Well....sure. If he cleans his room and does what he's told, then you can put
it back on him. If not, then he'll have to learn to grow up without it."
The boy's eyes are wide open. I look at the youth, and I know with certainty
that his behavior will soon be taking a drastic turn for the better. I figure
I might even see him back within just a few days. I hope so. His cock looks
good in the case, and even though it was young, it is stiff, and eager, and I
figure I'll probably have it rented before the day is out. There is always
some man that wants to relive his teenage years. I label it " FOR RENT: Cock,
13 Y, NS, $U 200; 17APR2215. 854002." The NS stood for 'not satisfied' which
meant it hadn't been jacked in a while. It was worth slightly more that way,
more so if it had the balls to go with it. Still, the cock would do.
They leave, and after that there is a lull, and I get a cup of coffee. As I am
pouring it, I hear a jingle at the door, and turn to catch a college aged boy
coming into the store. He's got a receipt in his hand, and he's very eager,
and as he hands it to me I smile. Its dated today, and I recognize him, but I
can't place him exactly, although I undoubtedly was the one that took his cock
not so very long ago. Looking at his number, I go down three aisles and pick
out his organ. FOR RENT: Cock, 22 Y, NS, $U 220; 17MAR2215. 4327981".
This boy's face stares, and he says "Hey...that's not my dick!"
I check the number. I go to the computer, and check the file. As I read the
screen, and the boy stares, I answer him: "Yes it is....it was rented out by
an older man for a month, and he took it on a trip to Bangkok, Thailand. He
caught an infection, which was treated, but during the treatment his....I
mean, your dick's foreskin was very inflamed and the best remedy was to remove
the skin. So, it's the same dick, but it got circumcised since you gave it to
me. That happens sometimes, and you'll get used to it. Hey, you've got a dick
now that's been a world traveler, and I imagine it's had quite a few pussies
since the courts gave it to me."
The boy looked angry, and I could tell he wasn’t too pleased to find out his
dick had been so well used. Of course, a pole like his always rents well. He
wasn’t happy about the foreskin being taken either, but I knew he wasn't going
to give me too much of a hassle. Besides, that was just the way it happened
sometimes, and when you lose your dick, sometimes things happen to it. I
looked back to the computer screen, to see if anything's still owed. Under the
court ordered removal, all it said was "inappropriate behavior" which didn't
say much of anything. That could mean a million things, so turning back to the
boy I asked: "What did you lose it for, anyway?"
He blushes. Then he says...."Ah...well....I tried to get in a girl's pants at
a party and she didn't think it was too funny. She said I had assaulted her,
and while I didn't the judge agreed to drop the charges if I was willing to
lose my cock for a while. My lawyer told me if I fought it in court there was
a good chance I'd lose, so I didn’t really see it as a choice. Still, to me it
seemed unfair that they took my cock just because I was trying to get in her
pants."
I answered him: "I see....well, nine months is a long time to lose a dick for.
Bet you're horny as shit."
He nods. His face blushes redder, and he says "You got that right. God I've
been thinking of this day like forever! Hell, I was horny the day I lost it
even!"
I look at his tag. "I usually allow a guy to get his rocks off before I take
his cock. The tag says 'NS'---you must have declined that offer."
He looked at me, and then he said "Well...I'm shy. I wasn't about to jerk my
cock in front of someone, especially in a two-bit store of all places!"
His comment ticks me off. I look at him, and I have a thought. He looks hot,
and before I open the case I say "Your account still has a fifty unit store
fee, for processing and handling. Are you paying by card, or in script?"
He looks shocked. "FIFTY UNITS!" he all but yells. SHIT man...I.....I don't
have that!"
I grin. Then I say: "Well.......I'm a pretty nice guy. I'll tell you what,
perhaps mister shy boy, you might be horny enough that you'll let me watch you
jerk it. I could waive the fee if you jerked your rod in my two bit store."
He stares, and his face flushes red. Then he says "Uh.....oh, fuck. FUCK MAN!
I get it! OK....I'm sorry. Please man, I'm really shy. I...I don't want to
jerk my rod with someone watching, especially an old fag guy. Isn't there
something else I could do? I could sweep the store or something."
I look at him. An "old fag guy?" Shit! He sure knew how to piss you off. I
start to put his dick back in the case. I set my face into a hard expression,
and I can sense its working. As I do he says "OK....OK MAN. I just
wasn't....well, I....I wasn’t going to jerk it.....here. But GOD I've GOT TO
GET MY DICK BACK!"
I turn to him, my eyes sparkling. Then I look at him, and say: "Well....if you
want your dick today then I guess you'll have to change your mind. I need to
see it working, so I know it's OK."
He gives in then, and I watch as his face flushes. His brain is thinking of
stroking his meat, and he's so excited with the anticipation that his armpits
are sweating. I swallow my coffee, and empty the cup. Then I motion for him to
come around behind the counter, and then I pick up the Tool and take the boy's
pole out of the case. He jerks down his pants, eagerly, and I can see the flat
spot, with the little bud where his urethra pokes out. I set the cock up
against the flat spot, and making sure its on straight and it's not twisted.
Then I set the ring around it and thumb the control wheel to the ATTACH
setting. I then say: "Hold still....it will tingle whiles it's attaching."
I press the button, and he shudders.
His cock pulsates, and then it thickens almost instantly, filling with blood,
and he gasps as it grows into a full erection right from the start. He's horny
as shit! I give it a few tugs, to make sure it's fully attached, and then I
pick up my empty coffee cup. The store is empty too, so I just say: "In the
cup.....let's see your load."
He is red with embarrassment, but I can see the relief on his face as he's
glad to finally have his cock back. He grips his rod, and starts to pump it,
and as soon as he does the end grows slick and a bead of semen glistens from
the tip.
"Ahhh..OH...OH YEAH...GOD IT'S BEEN SO FUCKING LONG!!!!!!!"
"Faster boy. I want you to shoot your wad for me. Keep it going." I say.
He won't last a minute. I watch him then, as he pumps it faster then, and his
eyes glass and right after that he shudders, and just as he does his wad of
semen just explodes from the end of his pole, jetting out in thick and
powerful shots of white cream, and spurting into my coffee cup that I am
holding to catch it. He squirts out almost a dozen shots of jism, gasping as
he ejaculates. He can't believe it, and the feelings of pleasure rip through
his body. Finally, he's done, and his balls are empty.
"Nice wad dude." His face goes beat red. Then, as he stuffs his rod back into
his pants, I say to him: "I'd be careful with it guy. If you get in trouble
again the judge will take it away from you for a lot longer than you lost it
this time."
He nods, and says "I'll never do anything to lose it again! NEVER!"
With that, he almost runs out of the store, and on a whim, I fill up my coffee
cup with more coffee, and after that I sip on my drink and savor the taste of
French Roast, flavored with the sweetness of the college boy's thick wad.
**_Noon_**
Midday is the busiest time of the day, and my store is full of customers
looking for cocks to rent. Most of them are men, in their middle ages, looking
for a pole that will stay stiff and will feel good. One balding gentleman
glares at the counter where the youngest balls and cocks are, and as he stares
at them I finally ask: "Sir...is there something you particularly want."
He looks at me, and then he says: "Well...yeah...yes. I am dating this younger
woman, and she's got big tits and fucks like a rabbit. The problem is that she
can fuck a half dozen times one right after the other, and I don't want to
lose her. She wants me to do her tonight, and she is the one that sent me
here. She told me to pick up a good cock, a thick one with some length to it,
and perhaps a few sets of nuts to go with it.
I smile. "How much are you willing to spend?"
"Uh....well....I want a deal, but if the cock is good and the balls are full,
then I'll pay what I have to."
I say: "Well...I think I have just the set for you. Here...come to this
counter, and take a look at this one."
I lift out a long case, with a fully erect cock in it. As the man looks at it,
his eyes go wide and he smiles. I say: "This pole is from a twenty-five year
old, who needed some money and has pawned it out for two weeks. It’s a fine
cock, one of the finest you will find anywhere, and as you can see it is full
and stiff and eager, and will satisfy any woman. It's thick too, and will be
even thicker when you're fucking with it. I'd suggest that you pickup three
sets of nuts too, so you can exchange them after each fuck and make the night
last. We can set up the scrotums to self-attach, for a fee, and while they
won't stay on permanently without a Tool, they will get you through the night
and you can fuck until you can't stand it anymore. For the cock, with three
scrotums to keep it going, I'll rent it all for five hundred units. That's 500
a day, but you'll have one hell of a night."
He nodded. He looked at the dick, and I could see his eyes studying it.
Finally, he nodded, "OK...but what if I want it for forty-eight hours."
"I'll give you a break...nine hundred...nine hundred units and you have until
closing on Wednesday. How's that sound?"
He nods, and I bring him around the counter. He lowers his pants, and his
little knob is there, like an egg sticking out of a basket. He has a small
dick, and it is not very impressive. No wonder his girlfriend wanted more! I
pick up the tool, and ring his pole, and then with a press of the button I
detach his knob. As I do, he says "Do I get anything for you keeping it?"
I laugh. Then I said: "Just be glad I'm not charging you to store it. I can't
rent this thing to anyone."
He blushes red. I pick up the big cock, and hold it in place and set the tool
around it. Switching to the ATTACH setting, I press the button, and the ring
glows read and the cock surges to life in my hand. He likes it, right away,
and he reaches down and strokes it a little, pumping it up and watching it
grow into a thick, throbbing erection. As he does that, he says "This will
do....Wow! God that feels good! Yeah...this dick will do nicely!"
I laugh, and take his card, and zip off nine hundred units. I set the tool in
place over the nuts, and slide the switch to the detach setting. Then I select
the Zipper option, and once I've done that I press the button. A dotted ring
appears all the way around his balls, and his sac is stretched out, hanging
separately and away from him, although it is still attached by a bundle of
flesh and nerves. I pull, and they come off with a 'click'. I push them back
on, checking the connection, and they click back. Next, I grab two sets of
balls, out of the case, and they are both from men his age. The balls aren't
as important as the cock, and as long as they haven’t shot a load in a while
they will work and allow him to keep his new cock stiff most of the night. The
key will be to replace the nuts after each ejaculation.
He leaves the store beaming, and I know I've got another customer who will be
back again. The store is packed, and I make my sales one after the other. Most
of the men are looking for something similar. They want to rent a hard rod,
usually from a younger male, and one that will stay stiff and can be used to
fuck a woman more than once and do it right. Most of my customers are
straight. One after the other I zip off their cocks and give them a new one to
take its place, collecting the money and making my profit. I also have a
couple of gentlemen come into the shop, returning the merchandise they rented
over the weekend. As I am detaching one guy's big rod, stuck on a fifty five
year old man, he says "God this thing is one hot dick. I haven’t fucked like
that in years! I almost hate to give it up. Do you have any dicks like this
that I can buy?"
I take him to the FOR SALE display case near the front of the store. Most
dicks are just for rent, as few men will willingly lose their dicks for good.
Still, I do have several sets in there for sale, usually from deceased men or
for ones who have been sentenced to a dickless life from the state judicial
system. Still, an outright sale is rare, and very expensive. He looks at the
cocks, and then he spies a full package labeled "FOR SALE: Cock and Balls, 17
Y, S, $U 750,000; 33322." It draws his full attention.
There is a card under the dick, and he is reading it with great interest.
"Solid, barely used dick, with a highly sensitive corona and shaft that gives
rock hard erections and fantastic ejaculations. It's ten inches in length, and
was removed from a teenage male who was convicted of using it to rape a woman.
He was sentenced to life without cock or balls. The balls have a high
testosterone output, typically for an adolescent male. His loss can be your
gain. Buy his eager cock today, and live a well endowed life of fun and
pleasure. As with all cocks purchased in this store, it comes fully
guaranteed."
I let him look at it, and I can see he's thinking about it. Still, it’s a hell
of a lot of money, and I do not except him to make the purchase. In the end,
he puts it back, but I can see the longing in his eyes and I may yet get him
to change his mind.
A man about forty comes up to me, and looking around, embarrassed, he asks:
"Ah...do...do you have any...boy dicks? I just...well, just want to feel a
boy's dick...to...to bring back memories. That's all."
I look at him. Weird...but not that weird. I answer: "I don't stock anything
prepubescent. If you want a little boy's dick, you won't find one here.
However, I do carry some teenage cocks, and I have one that might do it for
you."
Then, I take him to the case where the thirteen year old's dick is, the one
from the boy who was in earlier today. It looks thin and young, and I can see
right away he wants it. "How much does it rent for?" he asks.
I look at the tag, and then I say "That dick is a good one, and the boy's rod
will get rock hard and his dick is supersensitive. It will cost you 200 units
for a day, twelve hundred for a week. You can probably jack it a half dozen
times a day and still keep it hard.
The man doesn’t hesitate, and hands me his card. As he does, he says "Give it
to me for three weeks."
I grin, and take his card, and debit off 3600 units. A nice little profit!
**_Afternoon_**
As the day wears on the customers change, and I get a number of lookers, and
other typical New York tourists checking out the rods and looking at the
merchandise and not spending shit. About three in the afternoon a police van
pulls up, and they half drag a man into the store, his arms handcuffed behind
him and fresh from the courtroom. He's not too pleased to be there, and he's
fighting them as they pull him into the store. He's strong as an ox, and looks
young, with a hard body and with muscles that are chiseled to perfection. He
almost looks like a soldier, and his crew cut adds to that image. As I look at
them, one of the cops says: "This guys' got a big cock....which he needs to
lose. He's on is way to the Penn, and that's where he's going when he's done
here. Where do you want him?"
The man is struggling, and he doesn’t want to lose his pole. I can see he's
not going to just let me have it, so I motion to the cops and they take him
back and strap him in the restraint chair. As they do, I check out the
paperwork. Ahhh, I see. It's another court ordered decocking, and this one is
for fifty years! No wonder the young man is fighting it so. Fifty years
without his cock! Looking at his paperwork, I note the conviction: "Child
Molestation."
I have no sympathy for him. Hell, he'll be an old man by the time he gets his
dick back, and by then he may not even want it. When I look at his paperwork I
can see the checklist. Haircut, The Cock Shop, and then the prison. They
aren't wasting any time. So, he's off to the big Penn, and it's going to be a
rough time for him. His good looks and young hard body won't help him there.
Looking at him brings a shudder, as I know that if he goes there without his
dick that it won't be long before he'll be bent over some prison bed and with
his legs spread. He's going to have a very miserable time, and of course since
the judge has let him keep his balls, his frustration will drive him insane.
It won't be long before his ass is stretched permanently, and I imagine he's
going to get used to semen dripping down his balls. Of course, without his
dick it won't be his load he feels dripping there. I suppose that was the
intention when the judge took his cock. I note that his sentence requires his
balls to be removed on his day of release. That's interesting, and gives him
something to look forward to. What a joke! Hell, he'll spend the next fifty
years in prison, without his dick, and then, if he lives long enough to get
out, they'll give him his dick back but take his balls. Now, that's justice
for you!
I walk behind the counter, and the boy's pants are already down to his knees.
His dick is thick, and jutting, and it points up at the ceiling, the tip of it
literally dripping with his sexuality. He looks at me, and his eyes go wide,
and he starts to fight the bonds in the chair. I pick up the Tool, and bring
it over, and then with a practiced hand I thumb the control wheel and make the
adjustments. Seconds later, I slide it over his throbbing dick, and push it
all the way down to make sure and get it all. As I'm doing that, he pleads to
me: "Oh man...please don't.... don't take my dick!!!!"
I press the button, and he arches his back and juts his cock into the air,
literally shoving it even farther into the detachment ring. As he does, he
yells out "ARHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
I am pressing the button as he thrust up against his bonds, in a total panic,
and then with a look of surprise on his face his dick comes off and I give him
a playful pat on the leg. As I hold his dick and the young man stares at what
he has lost, I say to him: "It's a nice dick....very nice. Don't worry...while
you're in prison it will be having a wonderful time." He stares at the flat
place in his pubic hair, where his dick was. Now, there is nothing but an
indentation and a little nipple where his urethra is sticking out.
I take his dick away and prepare the label, while the police officers fill out
the log and then leave the store, taking the man with them and to his destiny.
He isn't fighting them anymore, almost like the hope is gone now that his dick
is mine. I set the big cock in its case, and then lay the label under it. It's
a nice addition, and will bring me a great deal of money in the years to come.
FOR RENT: Cock, 21 Y, NS, $U 250; 17MAR2240. 864210.
A little while later a man in his thirties comes in, and walks down the aisles
until he finds what he was looking for. He motions over for me, and I come,
and as I reach where he is standing he says this to me: "Ah....can I have my
cock....just for a few minutes. I...I pawned it a while back, and well....I
really need it if you know what I mean."
I look at the case. FOR RENT: Cock, 34 Y, NS, $U 110; OPEN. 410799
The cock is a long one, but a little on the thin side, and because of the
thinness, and the age of it, the price is down and it's not been renting well.
Still, I've rented it out a few times, and it's not a bad pole as far as
thirty-four year old dicks go.
I look at the man, and then I say: "I see. A little horny are you? Let me
check the file, and I'll see what I can do."
He follows me back to the computer, and I check his number. It’s a straight
pawn, just a regular guy who needed some cash and took out a loan with his
dick. In New York City, it happens all the time. I frown, and then I say: "You
borrowed 600 units with it. There's no interest, but I need the money if you
want your dick."
He stares, and I can sense his desperation. As I am looking at him, a really
fat man, with a big, round belly and a double chin walks up to the resister.
The fat man says: "If he doesn’t want it, I'd like to rent it for the weekend.
It's got the length I need, and it's not too fat. I need a thinner dick when
I'm doing an ass. His is perfect, and it's a bargain at 110."
The man who is the owner of the dick stares, wide eyed. "Doing an ass?" he
says, looking at the fat man. "Not with my dick your not!"
The fat man grins, and says "Yeah....I love fucking a hot ass. Especially,
with a rental." Then, grinning, he says "If you want to bend it over this
weekend, I could fuck you with your own dick! Now, wouldn't that be
something?" With that, he burst out laughing, and even I had to grin.
There was a look of horror on the owner's face, and the humor of the joke was
lost on him. Then, looking at the fat man with total disgust, he says to me:
"Please man....please let me have my dick. I just need to feel it again, at
least for a few minutes. I'm so fucking horny I can't stand it! And for God's
sake, please don't let this jerk have it!"
I look at him, and his desperation. Then I say: "If you don't have six
hundred, you can't have your dick. How much do you have?"
He pulls out his card, and hands it to me. I scan it, and I see that fifty
units is all he has left in his entire account. I hand him back his card, and
say: "I'll see what I can do, but you aren’t going to get YOUR dick today.
Then, I look to the other man, the man with the fat belly, and say: "You can
have the dick, how many days to you want to rent it for?"
He grins, and says "I'll take it through Monday. Looks like a good dick, and I
can't wait to shove it up a few chutes." I look at the other man, who is
staring now wide eyed and in disbelief, and then I say: "Well...it's owner
thinks it’s a good pole, although for him I think he uses it for pussy
hunting. I'll give you a deal, 600 through the weekend."
I make the transaction, and take the man back and put the dick on him. He's
grinning then, and he likes it and I can tell he's happy with his purchase. I
take off his fat little knob, which even erect isn't anything to look at. I
haven’t seen a dick this small in a very long time, and its just not much more
than a stub, and I'm almost embarrassed to give it a glass case. The fat man
leaves, grinning, his rented dick jutting out his pants and he almost singing
as he leaves the store.
Then I go back to the man whose just watched his own dick get rented by
another. He's very dejected. As I look at him he says "I can't believe my dick
is going to be fucking someone's ass. God I want it back!"
I feel for him. Then I say to him: "I'll tell you what. I've got a stub here,
a cute little dick really, from the fat man whose just rented your own pole.
If you want, I can put it on you for ten units for one full hour, or, I'll
give you a hell of a deal and let you keep it until Friday afternoon for your
fifty. That's the best I can do, take it or leave it."
His face goes white. He doesn’t want the little dick, but he's so horny he
hands me his card. I take him behind the counter, and pick up the still warm
nub from the fat man, and set it against the flat area that is devoid of pubic
hair, where his own pole used to grow. Then, I set the tool in place, and
press the button. The man stares down then, at the nub he's just rented, and
its small and I can see he isn't pleased with the feeling. It attaches, and
the feeling of having a dick returns, and he looks down then and I can sense
him trying to figure it out. He strokes it, and nothing happens. I can see his
mind working, and he frowns. He tugs on it for about a minute, pulling on it
fairly hard, and then he says "The damn thing's sore, and it won't get hard.
I...I don't think it will work."
I look at him, and take the knob in my fist. As I am handling it, I say "He
probably jerked it recently, and so it's not really ready to shoot right now.
But your nuts should get it going, and they will drive it hard if you give
them the chance. It's been a long time for you. Here....let me see if we can
give them some help."
As I say that I reach to the counter, and pull out a small bottle of baby oil,
and pour some of the lube into my fist. Then, working the oil into the rented
knob I watch as it starts to fill with blood. I work it, rotating my fist, and
it thickens some more, and he stares then at it and it stiffens to its full
three inches. I work it faster then, and he starts to get the feeling, and I
can tell at this point he's horny as shit. It's been a long while for him, and
his nuts are feeling the need. I stop then, and say "Looks like its working to
me. Do you want it, or not?"
He's gasping then, staring at his little rental dick bobbing up and down, the
feeling of pleasure filling his groin, even if its nothing compared to what
his own rod would generate. I can see his mind working, trying to make a
decision. I'm feeling generous, and besides, I've taken his last fifty, and I
like my reputation. So, I say to him: "I'll tell you what. Why don't you go
into the bathroom, and try it out. If it works, and you get your rocks off,
then you keep it. If not, then I'll take it back and recredit you with the
fifty, and you got to feel a dick for free. I always guarantee my cocks."
He nods his head, and pulls his pants up then, and I watch as he goes across
the store and into the bathroom to pull the fat man's pud. Even a small dick
is better than no dick, and with enough effort and the lube on his pole, I'm
fairly confident he'll be able to empty his nuts with the fat man's pole. A
few minutes later he walks out of the bathroom, red faced, and then he leaves,
and I have little doubt he will be pounding that pud like a jackhammer in the
days to come. By the time the fat man gets it back, it will probably be sore
as hell.
Just before closing a man and a woman and a boy come into the store. The kid
is a teenager, but he looks young, although he's pretty tall so his age is
hard to figure out. I hear him talking to his parents, and his voice is high,
like a young boy's, even though he is tall enough to be an adult. He has
bright blue eyes, and a smooth face. His eyes are striking, and set against
his natural blond he's one of the sharpest young men I've ever seen.
The father approaches the counter, and lowers his voice, almost in a whisper.
Then he says: "Uh....my son.....Jeremy, he's had an accident. I...I don't know
if you can help him, and we don't have a lot of money. But...well....he is
missing...it."
I look at the boy, and try and figure him out. His face is red, and he is
embarrassed. Well, I guess I had better take a look, to see what we are
dealing with. Then I take the kid back, behind the counter, while the mother
walks up and down the display cases and stares at all of the dicks in the
store. His father follows me. I unsnap the boy's jeans, and his face goes even
redder with embarrassment. I slide them down, and then his boxers, and when I
do I see a mess. I gasp. Something has literally chewed this boy's genitals
off, completely off, and there is an ugly scar there that defies description.
I look at the boy, and he looks away in shame, and then, turning to the dad, I
asked: "What the hell happened here?"
The father says "We..we had a pit bull. Three years ago he attacked the boy.
The doctors couldn't save anything, and we don't have any medical insurance. I
couldn’t afford the hospital to do an attachment, but they took up a charity
collection and so the hospital tried anyway. Unfortunately, the dick didn't
take, and after that they just gave up. Since then we went to two rental shops
in Oklahoma City, but they couldn’t get an attachment to take either, and
those attempts took most of our money. We don't have much hope left. Still,
he's our only son, and so, well, we have driven here, to your shop, because of
your reputation and your guarantee."
My heart is pounding, and I look at the kid and his eyes are teared. He is so
humiliated, and the look on his face is so sad I want to hug him. My mind is
racing, and I take a look at his groin, searching for a flat area where I
could set an attachment. The scar tissue is ragged, which complicates things,
but my tool is one of the most expensive models you can buy, and it has a
setting for smoothing, and I know it will be worth trying. I still don't have
any idea if it will work.
Looking at the boy, I ask: "How old are you guy?"
He looks at me, and his pre-pubescent voice says "Sixteen sir. I'll be
seventeen in three weeks."
Puberty has passed him by. There is only a wisp of hair above his groin from
when it had just started to grow before the dog took it all from him. Now he's
just a little boy, innocent, and as he stares at me I realize I am his only
hope. I like him, right off, and without any hesitation I walk to the display
case, the one with my dicks for sale, and pick up the big cock, and the
matching set of balls that go with it. As I bring the package back, the father
sees the price, and says: "We...we can't afford that kind of money."
I look to the tag. FOR SALE: Cock and Balls, 17 Y, S, $U 750,000; 33322. I
look at the father, and then I say: "We can talk about price later. Right now
let's see what we can get to fit. This set is from a seventeen year old boy,
almost the exact age as your son, and right in the middle of puberty. Simply
put, it's as fine a package as you can find anywhere in the world. Best of
all, it's for sale. It's not a rental."
I pickup the tool, and thumb the control wheel to the smooth setting, then I
reduce the ring size to an inch, to get the area correct. I lay it up, between
the boy's legs, and push the ring on the Tool into his scarred flesh. I press
the button, and the boy's eyes are wide, staring at me as I work the Tool. The
ring turns blue, and then, as I let go of the button I pull it away and the
skin is smooth, a little circle right where it needs to be. I move the Tool up
slightly, and do it again, making a second flat circle right in the middle of
his groin. There is a little hole there, the boy's piss hole, and at least
it's in the right place. I reset the ring and give it another button press,
and skin gets smoother and this time his urethra is poking out like a nipple.
It looks good, and I have some hope. Then, I pick up the dick, and the boy
looks at it and stares, the look in his eyes one of hope or one of
desperation. It's hard to know which.
I set the cock against the upper flat spot I have made, and set the tool over
it, on top of his urethra nipple. Then, I look at the boy, while his father
looks at me, and then I say "Ok boy....look at me and don't move." Then I
press the button.
The cock surges in my hand, and fills, warmed with blood. The boy gasps...and
looks down, and then a huge grin spreads across his face. I can feel my heart
pounding. I pick up the big set of balls, and they are heavy in my palm. I lay
them up, under the boy's new dick, and set them in position. Then, picking up
the tool, I set it over the nuts, and then, pressing the trigger I wait until
the light glows and goes out. I pull on the balls, and they come off in my
hand. Shit! I check the spot again, and thumb the control wheel to a higher
setting. Then, once again, I set the balls under the dick, and lay it up flat
against his groin. With another press of the button, I wait, and after a few
seconds I release it.
The boy's dick juts out instantly....filling with blood, and as it lifts
upward, off his balls, I can see that his package is complete. The kid is
grinning, and his dick is hard in seconds. It's been a long time since the kid
had a dick, and reaching down and looking at it his father and I are grinning.
His balls are warm and the blood is rushing through them, and I know that soon
they will turn him into a man. The boy is grinning, and so am I. I pick up the
bottle of lube, and squirt it over the pole, and then I say: "Go ahead
boy...give it a try. We might as well find out if it's going to work!"
His face flushes red, and he isn’t sure what to do, and that's when it occurs
to me that he hasn't had a dick to practice with. I say to him: "Pump your
dick with your fist....just slide it up and down, nice and fast, as we need to
see if everything works. Let us know how it feels while you are doing it."
The boy takes his greased pole and starts to slide his fist up and down its
length, and as he does he stares, and his eyes go wide. He's pumping his rod
then, jerking his new meat, and as he does he says "Oh....oh GOD. That feels
so good....sooooo damn good. Oh DAD....oh.... oh..... ah.... AH.....
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" he screams, and his mother looks across the store then
as she hears her son shout out his first wad, losing his innocence as he
experiences his very first ejaculation.
He pumps out his goo then, while his father and I laugh, watching the teenager
buck his hips and thrust his new rod into his fist. The boy is into it, his
big load of cream shooting out of the boy's brand new set of seventeen year
old balls. I look at his dad, and he is grinning and so am I. The father hands
me his card, and says "I don't have 750000, but I'll take out a loan and pay
you somehow. You can have whatever we have now, but it isn’t very much."
I shake my head, and hand him back his card. Then I say: "Sometimes what is
important in life money can't buy. Your money won't work in my store today.
Take your boy home, and enjoy watching him become a man. Send me a picture
when he starts to shave! That will be all the payment I want."
**_Closing Time
_**
It's the end of the day, and as they leave I close up the store. I lock the
door, and turn out the lights. It's been a good day, a very good day, and I
like my work and it's good to do good things. Just before I head home, I walk
down the display cases one more time, and as is my usual custom, I pick out a
cock. Tonight I've grabbed a nice one, from an eighteen year old, and it is
firm and long and hard as a piece of steel. I pick up the Tool, and exchange
dicks, feeling the rush as the teenage meat fills with blood between my legs.
God it feels good, and as I pump it up, I can feel the strength of youth and I
lean back in my chair and suck in the feeling and relish it. I stroke the dick
faster, and let the feeling build. I love my store, and I love my work. God it
feels so fucking good!!!! As the thick wad churns and begins to shoot out the
teenage cock in my fist, I am grinning. Who can say being that owning The Cock
Shop doesn't have its benefits!
[Authors note: Adult fiction. ©Copyright November, 2004. All rights reserved.
Not to be copied without the consent of the author. All comments appreciated.
[email protected]]
* * *
` |
Three Letters, Part 1 | GAY, STRAIGHT, BI, TG, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Other: Historical | Some interesting correspondance. | Three Letters, Part
1
The following are three letters which I recieved from a
correspondent friend back in the mid 70's. Even though they are
nearly a quarter of a century old, I still find them quite exciting
and provocative reading and I think you will too. All comments and
feedback are welcome.
Letter #1 The Castration Complex
From the time I was first able to ejeculate while masturbating,
around the age of twelve, I have had an intensly strong interest in
every aspect of male genital modification, mutilation and removal,
and over the years it has not deminished nor varied to any great
extent. If anything, it has only grown stronger and more deeply
rooted with the passing of time.
It was in the spring of 1955, during 'Spring Break', just shortly
after I turned sixteen, that I went up to a San Francisco YMCA room
with a guy who proceeded to show me a collection of around one
hundred photos depicting atrocities committed by the Japanese on
American soldiers. The collection had been acquired by this young
sailor purely by accident one day, he told me, while out on patrol
and rather than turn them in like he was supposed to, he had kept
them hidden away in his personal effects. Nearly a dozen years had
passed since he first acquired them. He was enroute to a new
station back east and had stopped over for a few days in San
Francisco. He was 32 years old when I met him but looked much
younger.
The photos, crude and probably hasty battlefield shots, were all of
Japanese soldiers in the act of sexually mutilating and
emasculating captives. Needless to say, the photos were intensly
fascinating to me. I got so interested in them that I spent several
hours there looking at them and also came back the next day to look
at them again. While looking at them I quite willingly allowed the
sailor to masturbate and fellate me. Those photos, aside from
feeding my lifelong fantasy about genital mutilation and removal,
revealed to me the truth of what I had heard about the Oriental
fixation with the penis. I sure wish I could have made copies of
all those photos but sadly there was no such thing as copy machines
available back then.
Later, while traveling around the world in the service, I had at my
disposal numerous historical documents and reports and I spent a
lot of spare time delving into the history of gential mutilation
and removal and phallic worship throughout the Far and Middle East
and Africa. One of my first realizations was of the prevalence of
phallicide, the collecting of enemy soldiers penises as amulets of
power, etc., and of circumcision and its multitude of forms and
accompanying rituals. I spent a few months living in those parts
of the world, while in the service, making friends in both the Arab
and Black African worlds and I personally became involved with a
number of situations that proved phallicide to be very much alive
at that time.
During the '70's Arab-Israli' conflict, a number of Morroccan
soldiers returning home from Syria were found to have a number of
dried penises in their duffel bags. During the 'Belgian-Congo'
conflict in the '60's, the only evidence concerning the
disappearance of a lost U.N. Swedish Army Scout team of ten men was
one severed, white, uncircumcised penis, found on the jungle trail
near where the team disappeared, probably dropped by a warrior
returning to his village with 'Proof' of his conquest. Recently,
the engineers building the highway through the Amazon jungle have
been warned to be careful else they fall prey to certain tribes of
Indians in that area who cannibalize the penis of live prisoners in
the belief that it possesses the fertility power of its owner.
Felix Byrk, the German anthropoligist who wrote, 'Circumcision In
Man And Woman' in 1930, states, "The following passage from the
Book of Samuel in the Bible, is of interest in so far as it attests
to mutilation of the bodies of the fallen enemies among the
Isralites: "And Saul said, Thus shall ye say to David, The king
desireth not any dowry but an hundred foreskins of the Philistines,
to be avenged of the kings enemies." (1 Samuel 18:25) "Wherefore
David and his men rose and went and slew of the Philistines two
hundred men; and David brought their foreskins and gave them in
full tale to the king, that he might become the kings son-in-law.
And Saul gave him Michal, his daughter, to wife." (1 Samuel 18:27)
It is only logical that the entire penis is meant by foreskin since
it is unimaginable that David would have busied himself with
posthumus circumcision of his fallen enemies."
That phallectomy was performed on enemies at an even earlier date,
and during a presumably greater civilization was discovered
recently at the opening of the tomb of Osymandrios in Egypt. In it
were found a number of large vases, each filled with mumified,
severed, uncircumcised penises and testicles. On the walls were
also murals of captured enemy soldiers being emasculated.
Victorian English literature abounds with accounts of phallicism in
the reports and journals of the many Nineteenth century British
explorers and adventurers, and of the erotic experiences of the
British military during their involvement with the Arab wars. One
sultan, after his army had captured three thousand British troops,
had all three thousand sets of genitals sliced off and stacked in a
pile in front of his tent. On another occasion, a large group of
Scottish troops were captured by the Arabs, staked out naked on the
desert, and their genitals slowly sliced off by an old Arab Shiek
with a ceremonial dirk.
The Arabs have always taken great religious zeal in circumcising
their Christian captives....from the time of the Crusades until the
Algerian war. Lawrence of Arabia allowed himself to be circumcised
as part of his masquerade when he entered the forbidden city of
Mecca, and later was threatened with castration. Earnest Grandier,
a British cavelryman, was taken captive during the Zulu war and was
taken to a Zulu village where he was staked naked for several days
while all the men in the village merely sat around and stared at
him....probably the first naked white man they had ever seen. He
escaped after being threatened to be cut up, 'bit by bit'.
A contemporary San Franciscan had an experience very similar to
that of Grandier, while he was a POW during the Korean war. He was
takento a very small North Korean village and was the only American
prisoner there. At night, he was taken to a village clubhouse
naked where several of the village men congregated and merely
stared at him. They too had probably never seen a naked white man,
and in their case, had never seen a man with such a large penis,
nearly eight inches compared to their diminutive five to six inches
average. He was taken to the same room night after night and more
and more of the village men would attend the viewing. The American
finally escaped before, as he put it, 'they wanted to do more than
just look at him'.
The huge amount of related material coming out of the Twentieth
Century wars will not be mentioned in these notes except to remind
that the Nazis shipped hundreds of 'Special' teenage Greek boys to
Dachau for castration 'experriments', and to remind, as many an
American veteran has witnessed, that the age old phenomena of
castrating battlefield corpses and sticking the removed penis into
the mouth of the victim, still persists.
Why dwell on this gruesome subject? Possibly because the time has
come for Humanity, and for each of us, to face it. It is now, and
always has been a fact of life....at least since man has
become 'civilized'. The great psychoanalyst, Dr. Ernst Jones,
concluded in his work, 'Essays In Applied Psychoanalysis'....'The
patriarchal system, as we know it, betokens acknowledging the
supremacy of the father and yet the ability to accept this even
with affection, without having to have recourse to a system either
of mother-rights or of complicated taboos. It means the taming of
man, the gradual assimilation of the Odepus Complex'. At last man
could face his real father and live with him. Well might Freud say
that the recognition of the father's place in the family signified
the most important progress in cultural development. So far as we
can tell, the way in which this has been - at least partly -
accomplishedhas been the replacement of Hate by SUBLIMINATED
HOMOSEXUALITY, of Murder thoughts by CASTRATION THOUGHTS. The
necessary price paid has been the deminished sexual potency of
civilized man, with all the complicated consequences of this'.
Amnesty International, the society formed to protect political
prisoners throughout the world, early in '75, issued the urgent
message that 'THERE IS AN EPIDEMIC OF TORTURE ALL OVER THE WORLD'.
And, again, the genitals are the favorite target. (castration
thoughts?) In a USLA Reporter, issued in '74, to expose torture in
Latin America, a list of tortures used in Chili were published, and
the very first one listed was - 'Removal of the Testicles and/or
Penis'. The fifth one listed was - 'Electric Shock on different
parts of the body, particularly the genitals'. In another USLA
Reporter issued in '75, the testimony of a victim of Brazilian
torture was published and the following are excerpts of that
testimony...."his penis was tied to prevent urination; and the
defendant was left in that condition for three days. One day he
was brought into the interrogation room, a cord was tied around the
defendant's testicles and he was dragged around the room and then
hung from a ceiling hook by the cord tied around his testicles.
Later the defendant's penis and testicles were placed on a wooden
table top and over fifty stabs were made through his penis and
testicles with a needle-thin awl, the type used for cloth...."!
Enough said.
How does castration relate to such an everyday occurance as
circumcision? How can I relate 'Castration Thoughts' to the
circumcision we know in our own society? Putting aside the
religious circumcision of the Jews, Moslems, etc., let's explore
where the practice of routine medical circumcision among the
English speaking nations began...and why. These nations are the
only Christian nations ever to have known widespread circumcision.
It is usually deemed necessary for 'hygienic' reasons. But are we
any more 'hygienically' advanced than say, the Scandanavians or the
Germans? It has become an 'American' fashion, but doesn't our
aesthetic prototype of the male still come from the Classical Greek
athlete ... who wouldn't be caught dead with his glans showing?
Could it be moralism? Thomas S. Saasz, M.D., in his book, "The
Manufacture of Madness" (1970) relates that Anglo-Saxon
circumcision started in England late in the nineteenth century as a
result of a published paper in 1891 by James Hutchinson, president
of the Royal College of Surgeons, called, "On Circumcision as a
Preventative of Masturbation". He quotes Dr. Hutchinson as not
only advocating circumcision for ..'this shameful habit', but
proposed that ...'if public opinion permitted their
adoption...measures more radical than circumcision would...be a
true kindness. "Castration thoughts"? Alex Comfort notes the
popularity of drastic surgical treatments of masturbation in the
period between 1850 and 1900, and had this to say about
them..."over this period there was a truly remarkable upsurge of
what can be termed comic-book sadism. The advocacy of these
bizarre therapies was not confined to eccentrics. By about 1880,
the individual who might wish, for unconscious reqsons, to attempt
control of masturbation would tie, chain, or infibulate sexually
active adolescents...to adorn them with grotesque appliances,
encase them in plaster or paris, leather or rubber, to fasten or
even castrate them... Masturbation insanity was now real enough--it
was affecting the medical profession."
Circumcision was officially recommended in England until 1941. The
incident of it was at its greatest in the generations of Englishmen
born during the first three decades of this century. Today, one
seldom observes a young Englishman with a circumcised cock! In
America, it reached its greatest extent during and just after the
Second World War, and only now is being questioned, and sometimes
discouraged, as a matter of routine. However, even though
the 'Great Victorian Hysteria' over masturbation is over, many U.S.
doctors still pressure for circumcision...as most uncut Americans
can testify. In one case, an American Serviceman, presented with a
release for a necessary tonsilectomy just happened to notice that
the release included circumcision. He refused to sign the release
and was threatened with charges of insubordination. In another
case, a teenager went to the hospital to have his appendix removed,
and came home with his foreskin removed also. Castration thoughts?
The origin of religious circumcision has been debated by
historians, anthropoligists, psychologists and theologians for two
thousand years. It is easily argued that the origins were not
hygiene because most of the primative groups who practiced such
ritual do not have the slightest concern or knowledge of
hygienics. For the same reason it is argued that the origins are
not anti-masturbation because many of these same people openly
masturbate their young sons in the belief that it will enlarge
their penises. That it comes from earlier Phallic worship and is a
substitute for the sacrifice of the entire phallus is most often an
accepted theory. That it comes from homo-erotic urges is a more
controversial theory, widely held today, and has remarkable
evidence in the circumcision procedures of one of the oldest
cultural groups on earth...the Australian Aborigine. Quoting Felix
Byrk...."A very remarkable, almost entirely incomprehensible
mutilation of the masculine organ is performed among the Australian
Aborigines. It is known in anthropological literature as
the 'Mika' operation and consists in a splitting open of the
urinary tube for a more or less long distance to the orificium
urethrae (kntrocisio, subincisio). Von Gennep says it is not any
more bargarous, nor any more symbilical, than wide-spread
circumcision (Karsch, p.73). Milne Robertson thinks it may be
derived from primitive vulnerary art in occasional cases of
inflammation of the urethra. (Karsch, p. 273). A natural case of
hypospadias could have served as a model. According to Karsch (p.
74) the natives give the following explanation: "Without the Mika
operation, people are no better than dogs or other lower beings". --
-Klaatsch was the first to succeed in proving that subincision
served homo-erotic pruposes. According to him, the men of the
tribe of Niol-Niol (-called Wamba-) enter into a fervent, almost
matrimonial relationship with the not yet subincised youths and
boys (-called Walebel). The Wamba, for the purpose of sexual
satisfaction, extend the slit in their urethra so that it remains
open back to the scrotum.
Now the Welebel (youth) places his penis in the subincised penis
and through constant friction succeeds in effecting an ejeculation
of semen on the part of both. From this informatoion it can be
seen why the subincised men of the Pitta-Pitta tribe are (according
to Roth) called 'Meko-maro' (vulva-possessors). The English have
coined the nickname 'Whistlecock' for the Australians who possess
such an artificial hypospadias". (Karsch, p. 9). Castration
thoughts?
Most males on earth are uncircumcised. However, there is plenty of
evidence that they too, experience the foreskin-castration complex--
especially in the way they treat their prisoners. The Japanese
have a definite foreskin complex and never appear in public (public
baths) without their foreskin retracted and their glans in full
view. They go to great trouble to tie, or train, their foreskins
behind the corona. (I saw evidence of the Japanese foreskin
complex in some of those atrocity photos). The Eskimos, on the
other hand, also practice family and public nudity, but tie strings
around the tips of their foreskins to assure that their glans are
not seen (as did the Classical Greeks). The American Indians,
mostly uncircumcised, not only scalped many a hapless American
pioneer but also completely skinned the penis from the base upward
if they did not cut it off altogether. Many primitive tribes,
while not circumcising at puberty rites, do other, even more
bizarre things to their youths. One South Pacific tribe cuts out
the right testicle of all young men. An Arabian tribe carries
circumcision to the point of removing the entire penis skin along
with the scrotum. Another South Pacific tribe perforates the
penises of an entire group of young initiates, runs a string
through their penises and thus ties the group together. I could go
on for hours with anthropological material but will conclude this
paragraph with the following observation....anyone involved with
Sado-Masochistic activities knows how much an uncut male masochist
enjoys being threatened with infibulation or circumcision.
I have not explored in these notes what all the above information
has to do with the sublimination of homosexuality. I will only
observe that the official interrogators, torturers and prison
guards around the world certainly don't see themselves as being
homosexual. Yet, one of the most common observations by survivors
of such treatment is that their tormentors enjoyed their work, and
often did so with erections. In the recent testamony of a Chilean
statesman who survived torture after the recent coup, he stressed
that his greatest pain was the humiliation he experienced when his
interrogators displayed pleasure from 'teasing his penis'. Another
evidential remark was made by an American POW returning home from
long internment in North VietNam. He said, "There are sure a lot
of queers in that society." But the strangest observation of all
to be made is that, as documented by the Nazis, 'many men go
through torture with uncontrollable, embarrassing, rigid
erections...even after hours of physical abuse'.
In the interest of brevity I have not gone into too great a detail
on the above subject. My main purpose in composing and sending
these notes is to solicit your reaction and response. Your
fantasies are of special interest...since fantasies give insight
into the hidden side of human nature and behavior. Besides,
fantasies can, and often do come true, sometime, someplace, to
someone!!!
If you are curious about me...I have spent time in Africa and the
middle and far East. During this time I spent as much of it as
possible working with slavers and became quite adept at the
creation of eunuchs which are still very much in demand as slaves
even though slavery has been officially outlawed since World War
Two. The Arabs are well known for their homo-erotic behavior
towards foreign men, even friends. This behavior is most often
manifested in anal contact, but they are also fascinated with
looking at and fondling a foreigners genitals. On a number of
occasions I have experienced the thrilling and somewhat
embarrassing, age old Bedouin custom of desert greeting amongst
caravans of mutual inspection of the genitals with the ever present
fear that should one of them suddenly wield a knife to collect for
himself a trophy, it would have been all over before I could have
even reacted.
End Part 1 |
The Street Boy | `
# The Street Boy
By: Il Musico
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[TESTICLES] [MINOR] Other:
How I found Alex, and the happenings around it.
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The Street Boy
==============
by Il Musico
It had gotten late that evening. I had attended that concert, in
part to kill my excess time, and in a greater part perhaps in an
attempt to forget my grief, at least for a while. Mozart should be
a good choice to cheer anybody up, and he almost managed to do it.
But now the concert was over, and as I walked back home, I couldn't
suppress the feeling of coldness. Coldness in the night air, and
coldness in my heart.
I shook loose of these feelings. I had to get over it. Nothing
would be able to repair my loss. I just had to accept that, as hard
as it was. I walked faster, as I was freezing. The streets were so
empty at this time in the night, empty and lonely. Downtown, close
to the theater, it was almost as busy as during daytime, but here
in my neighborhood people were already asleep. Not many concert
goers, I thought.
I had just three more blocks to go, when I noticed a strange bundle
on the other side of the street. I wasn't sure at first if this was
a trash bag that some unknowing neighbor had placed there, even if
trash collection was only on Mondays and Thursdays, or if that
object was an animal. I walked closer and almost past it, when
suddenly the bundle moved. Someone was apparently trying to sleep
there! The bundle had some human shape, and given its size, it
could only be a kid. Immediately my mind started spinning off crazy
stories of runaway kids, who after depleting their shallow money
reserve, ended up sleeping in the street, picked up by police, or
suffering a worse fate. Having run away myself one time when I was
young, this touched me deeply. I crossed the street.
The dark bundle was indeed a child. As I came closer, I saw him
shaking in the cold. He was well awake, of course; no one could
sleep at this freezing temperature. He must have seen me, but
didn't react. He just stared on, as I stopped in front of him. I
had to think of my Brian. This boy was about the same age as Brian
had been, when... No, I didn't want to recall this again!
The boy was still staring without seeing, as if frozen. If I left
him there, that would be his death. The temperature was already
below freezing, and it would plummet further. At least I had to
notify the police. But then I thought again. When I had run away,
at the end someone had picked me up, bringing it all to a happy
end, without involving the police. It had surely been much better
for everyone that way. Maybe here was a mission for me.
"Hey, did you run away from home?" I asked. It was silly, but how
do you start a conversation with an unknown kid who is totally
ignoring you? To my surprise, the boy answered: "Would love to be
able to do that. I have no home." I had never heard a street kid
put together his words so well, and had expected a monosyllabic
answer, at most. "So you usually sleep in the street?" I couldn't
believe that. The boy came back: "Since today. They threw me out of
the subway station." He said it with such an air of naturality
that I almost had to laugh. But I controlled my impulse, looked
around and commented: "You have a nice sleeping place here. Only
bad thing is that your heating seems to have broken down." This
seemed to call the boy back to reality, and he used the first
street word I heard from him: "Yeah, it's fucking cold here". This
simple sentence, spoken with that boyish innocent voice, shivering
from cold, gave me the rest. "Come along. I have a spare bedroom.
You will freeze to death if you spend the night here."
The boy looked in my face for the first time. "How will I have to
pay for that? I have no money." I took a moment or two to realize
what this boy was probably thinking of me. What experiences must he
have gone through! I considered for a moment putting things back in
place once and forever, but then backed out and held my temper.
"You don't have to pay for it, not in any way." I placed the
emphasis on 'any'. He looked at his shoes. "I will trust you.
Thanks." With this the boy stood up, not without some difficulty.
His awkwardness seemed to belie his age, making him look much
older, almost rusty... We walked down the street. Halfway to my
home I asked him about his name. "Alex." He didn't tell me his
family name, and I didn't rush to press it out of him. It was quite
possible that he was a runaway. He was just too well spoken for a
street kid. If this was the case, tomorrow would be ample time to
make him think about his situation, and maybe bring this to a happy
end. Like my own case, so many years back...
Once at home, I examined my find. Alex must have been around 12
years old, but he was very thin. Definitely he had eaten much too
little during a considerable time. He was probably a good looking
boy, under that dirt, that is. He was incredibly dirty and smelly.
Outside, in the cold night, that hadn't been obvious, but here in
my living room his looks pushed me to a quick decision: "Alex, the
first thing now is that you take a good, long bath. You look like
you had none for a month at least!" "Almost two months", he
replied matter of factly. This caused me a laugh attack, which
seemed to cheer him up a little too, but he did not join my
laughter. "Come up, I will show you the bathroom." I lead him to
the bathroom upstairs. It had been out of use for so many months
now... NO, I didn't want to think about this!!! I pushed those
images out of my mind. I opened the hot water faucet. It's good to
have a large boiler, the bathtub fills in just a few minutes. I
took the bottle of shampoo out of the cabinet, gave it to Alex: "I
hope it's enough". Now he laughed. At last! Hooray! Was it my
little joke, or the expectancy of a warm bath? Whatever, he
laughed!
I left the boy alone, imagining him peeling those smelly clothes
off. They must be almost glued to his body after two months.
Obviously he had neither changed clothes, nor washed any of them,
in that time. Two months... Had he run away two months ago? Or had
he lost his family to some freak thing... Oh no, again those
memories!!! NOOOO!!!
I went to the room that had been Brian's. My little bright Brian.
Who would think that now his clothes would clad another boy. But
that was the obvious thing to do now. It would make no sense to
stuff a clean Alex back into his filthy things! I grabbed a full
set of clothes that had been Brian's, and with a heavy heart went
back to the bathroom. Alex was in the tub, but turned violently
away as I entered the room, showing me only his back. The look of
his body hit me strongly. His lithe built, the thin, long arms, he
was so similar to how my son had looked. I couldn't help but find
more and more things in common between Alex and my Brian. Even if
Alex' back looked like if he had drawn a beating. Street kids.
"Don't be shy, Alex. I know how boys look. You don't need to hide."
I placed the stack of fresh clothes on the toilet tank, and grabbed
Alex' dirty things. "I had a son who was about your age. Here are
some clothes that were his. Put them on when you are ready. I will
put yours in the washing machine." Alex looked at the clothes, at
me, and tried a smile, but still kept his contortion that hid his
front from my sight. I noticed a wound in his face, that had
previously been hidden under the layer of dirt.
Alex would not let me see the rest of him, most probably as
scratched as his face and back. I laughed inside. Most probably
this kid had taken the opportunity for a good wank, and at age 12
one definitely does not like to be catched in action!
About half an hour later Alex came down the stairs. He had given me
enough time to prepare a simple dinner. I needed it, as I had gone
from the office directly to the theater, and was really hungry. And
I was pretty sure that Alex needed it much more than I did!
As he came into the kitchen, I nearly suffered a stroke. He was
almost a reincarnation of Brian! In his clothes, with his shape...
Just the face was different, thanks God for His mercy. Then the
images of my dear Katja and little Sue formed in my mind. I pushed
them away. I had to get over it.
"Come, Alex, I guess you must be mighty hungry!" I said. He was
again the shy boy: "Not really. I'm more tired than hungry." Well,
he had a point, it was almost midnight by now. But he wouldn't
escape so easily. He was just too thin! "Eat something, you need
it. Then go sleeping." He came over and sat down. Again it hit me.
He chose just the seat that Brian used to take. Brian had liked to
sit always at the same place, he had been quite stubborn in this
regard. I brought the dishes to the table, and Alex, unasked,
placed them where they belonged. This boy had definitely not been
living a very long time in the street! He had good manners. I was
growing more convinced that he was a runaway. Well, we would
straighten this out soon.
After all, Alex was really hungry! He started slowly, then ate
more, and more, and after a while I worried if I had enough food
reserves to fill this kid up! But it was a joy to watch him
feasting. Obviously he had been very hungry, even if he was too shy
to admit it.
During the dinner I asked Alex about his injuries. In addition to
what I had already noticed, I now saw, scratches and small cuts all
over his hands. Maybe that's the reason why he hid from me in the
tub? His face went somber when I asked, and he just replied "I was
in a fight." "The subway guards?" I asked. He shook his head.
"Police?" He shook his head again. I waited for him to swallow,
then asked "Who was it then?" "Other kids", he said, and loaded up
his mouth again with another spoonful.
O tempore, o mores! What times are these, in which kids beat each
other in such a way as to cause these injuries? Brutal times, for
sure. "Do you want some bandaids? That thing in your face looks
like it must hurt." Alex again swallowed, then said: "It doesn't.
I have had worse ones."
It was not this sentence that scared me. It was his facial
expression! 'Worse' apparently was a small word for what he wanted
to express. Before I could ask him if he had worse ones right now,
that needed any attention, he expertly changed the matter: "You
said this clothes belonged to your son. Where is he now? Where's
your family?"
There it was. Me, the dumb guy, hoping to get around having to
explain it again and again. But the question was clear, and a true
answer would be best. "They are all dead. Car accident. Five months
ago." I saw Alex stopping his chewing, then I lost clear sight. I
let the tears run. There was no way to fight them back now.
A moment later, while I was still to watery to see much, I felt
Alex grabbing my hand. He pressed it with both of his. That didn't
help much, as his hands felt just like those of Brian, or even
Sue's. In fact, Sue had often applied that instinctive method of
comforting, grabbing people's hands to transmit wellness to them.
My little Sue, what wouldn't I give to have you back!!!
Alex said softly: "We are companions then." I wiped away my tears
with my left arm. Back to reality. This boy sounded true. "What
happened to your people?" I asked. "It's a long story. It will take
hours telling it." I took the hint. "Let's go to bed then. Tomorrow
is Saturday. We have the whole day for storytelling, unless you
have something better to do." I tried to smile, while Alex joked:
"I have a subway to look after!" Little rascal! I showed him
Brian's bedroom, of which he took quick possession, and left him to
sleep.
I woke up rather late the next morning. Only a good while after
waking up, I suddenly remembered the events of the last evening.
Had it been a weird dream, or reality? I climbed out of bed and
sneaked into Brian's room. Sure enough, Alex was there. But how he
looked! The angel-like face that he showed, like any sleeping kid,
was really marred. That wound looked worse than it did the day
before. It must have been of more recent date than I had thought!
It was swollen and reddened.
I sneaked back, showered, got dressed, and then I went for some
disinfectant, wound cream, and bandaging material. With that, I
entered Brian's room again. Alex had woken up, probably from the
noise I made while showering, and greeted me.
"Alex, you look like an earth worm mangled in a lawn mower." He
laughed. "I will fix you up a little bit, OK?" I said and put my
pack of doctoring supplies on the desk. "Oh no, don't worry, I'm
fine!" he said defensively. It surprised me. Could it really be
that those wounds didn't hurt him? Unlikely. "You WILL be fine, but
let me patch those holes, and glue you back together into one
piece." Alex somehow didn't want me to care for his injuries.
Strange. Just short of me forcing him, he gave in and accepted his
fate. I applied disinfectant over his swollen face wound. It was
the kind of stuff that's supposed not to burn, and either it was
good or Alex had a high pain threshold, as he didn't flinch. I
applied some wound cream and then taped on a sterilized wad.
Then I pulled partly back the bedsheets. Only now did I realize
that Alex was wearing one of my son's pyjamas. I was slowly getting
accustomed to this, but still I had to think of what had been my
family. Why did it have to happen...? But now there was work to
do.
"Get off that pyjama shirt!" I commanded. "If I'm not very
mistaken, those kids banged around quite bad on your back too!"
Alex hesitated, but seeing my determination, he removed that piece
of clothing. I thought I now knew why he had been hiding his front
in the bathtub! His tummy looked worse than his back, hands and
face taken together! There was a deep cut slightly aside his belly
button, and lots of scratches and bruises. Before I could ask, Alex
explained: "I told you I was in a fight." I pointed at the deep
wound. "Knife?" I asked. "Yeah. And these too", and he pointed to
some of the lighter cuts on his hands and arms. "It wasn't sharp
enough, or they would have killed me." He said this as if he were
reading through a grocery list.
I started working on his belly wound. After a while he gave in to
my questions and told me that the fight had been just the day
before. When I was done with his tummy, and having applied a light
coating of disinfectant over the rather minor wounds on his back,
I went for the difficult part. "Now let's see how the rest of you
looks. Take off those pants." Alex' reaction was unexpectedly
harsh: "No!!!", came his piercing answer. I recalled the time when
I had been his age. Sure enough, I wouldn't have wanted a stranger
examining my privates! Just the belly area was embarrassing enough.
But in this case, either I checked him myself, or I had to get a
doctor at it. I tried the clown's approach: "My dear little Alex,
do you want me to believe that those kids cut you up badly all over
your arms, face, belly and back, but did not touch your legs? Come
on!" He had no answer to this, but still did not accept the need to
strip. There must be something more, I thought. I looked in his
eyes. "Alex, did someone force you to do sexual things? Let's get
this straight, I have no intentions of doing anything like that."
The boy did not answer, but seemed to search desperately for an
escape. So I took the moment's chance and pulled the bedsheets
fully back, and while Alex still didn't speak nor do anything, I
gently pulled down his pyjama pants. He just let it happen.
And then I saw the most horrible sight of my life. No, I don't mean
his legs, which were just as cut and bruised as the rest of him.
What catched my sight was his genitals, or should I better say,
what was left of them. Below the small, still undeveloped boy penis
was a real battlefield. There was no sign of testicles or a
scrotum, but instead a terrible infected mess of a wound. I took
some time until I could speak again. "For heaven's sake, who did
this to you, Alex? Those kids too?" With a shaky voice Alex
replied, controlling himself as best he could: "Today is
storytelling day, isn't it? This is pretty much the end of the
story. If we start soon, expect to learn this part by mid
afternoon." Incredible, he kept his wit even in such a situation!
That wound was more than I ever could fix myself. And it was a case
for the police too. But how could I tell that to Alex?! I tried my
luck and told him to get dressed, so we could go to the hospital.
But he freaked out so badly, that for the sake of the poor boy's
sanity I decided to avoid it if possible. I very carefully applied
some disinfectant to that wound, and this time he did react. After
all, the non-burn disinfectant wasn't that perfect... I then told
him to stay in bed, and went down to the telephone.
It's good to be a lawyer. As a lawyer you know many people, and
what's more important, you know many of their weaknesses and hidden
affairs. So, if I ask friends for a service, they never refuse.
They can't... :-)
It's by this method that I enlisted the help of Mark, a doctor whom
I had defended in court in a case when one of his patients had
died, and the family thought it had been Mark's fault. It hadn't,
at least in that case, but it had been hard to proof. I asked Mark
to do a home visit here, as soon as possible, and bring along all
necessary tools and supplies for wound surgery. Then I prepared
breakfast. I intended to bring it up and have Alex eat in bed, out
of fear that he would rip that wound open, but he surprised me by
showing up, fully dressed, in the kitchen, when he heard dishes
clattering! That's the power of growth-spurt appetite, I guess...
Mark arrived after twelve o'clock. If that's his diligence in
attending a call 'as soon as possible', then maybe after all that
patient DID die because of his neglect... But for now he was
helpful. I told him the story, as much as I knew of it. Alex still
hadn't loosened up enough to tell me much more, despite this being
storytelling day. I intended leaving Mark alone with Alex, thinking
that it would be easier for the poor boy to be alone with the
doctor. But to my surprise Alex asked me if I could stay! If he
felt safer with me around, that was a good sign.
So, I stayed, but I would almost have had to flee when Mark, after
applying local anesthesia, cut away the infected skin, cleaned out
the wound, pulled and tugged to make ends meet, literally, and then
stitched it all together. It was a bloody, absolutely awful affair.
Alex said that he felt everything, but that it didn't hurt. He just
felt it. He was pale, no wonder after that torment. When Mark was
ready with this major work, he checked the lighter injuries, and
then left, leaving me with a tired, half asleep boy, and a
prescription for antibiotics. He offered to write any medical
assertion I could eventually need for the legal side of this mess.
At the doorstep, he gave a bold warning: "Watch closely over Alex.
If he develops fever, rush him to the clinic, AT ONCE! There is a
high risk of peritonitis." I took a mental note of it. Then Mark
demanded that I tell him the full story when I had learned it, and
left. Nice guy. Even if he came so late.
After all, Saturday was not going to be storytelling day. Alex fell
asleep again, and I rushed to the pharmacy to get those antibiotics
for him. When he awoke, he was quite beaten and in pain. In fact he
had been in strong pain before Mark's operation too; the difference
was simply that now he admitted it! I gave him one of those
antibiotic pills, and a pain killer, and spend the afternoon with
him, waiting if he would let loose. But he didn't. And I didn't
force him. I was growing sure that there would be ample time for
him to tell me the story.
He did so on Sunday morning, all of his own. And what a story it
was. Oh boy! Only child of a single woman, father unknown. Mother
dies in an accident when he is eight years old. Lives with an
uncle's family, but feels out of place. The cousins pick on him all
day long for being a "bastard", as if it was his fault. Finally he
runs away (I was right after all!). Takes a bus, to anywhere, only
goal is getting as far away as possible. Seeks asylum in a church,
but runs away when the priest refuses to help him without first
telling the police. Not trusting the priest, he puts his last money
into another bus ticket, ends up here. Tries to get a job,
anything, but has to learn that simply no one will give a job to a
12 year old boy. Joins a gang of street kids, who put him through
an initiation rite. When I asked what kind of rite that was, his
chilling answer came, slowly but clearly: "They butt-fucked me, one
after the other." It sounds so forbidden, impossible, unimaginable
to hear a 12 year old say this, so plainly.
After that initiation, the kids treat him quite well. But he has to
"work". Which means, hang out in the streets at late night, get
picked up by some sick pederast, go spend the night with him, do
whatever he likes him to do. Fetches enough money to buy some food
for the group. "At least I didn't have to steal", he said, as in
self-defense.
And then, the biggest mistake. Alex happens to be picked up by a
member of some weird sicko club. He is brought into a kind of club
meeting, where the club members mount a crazy ceremony around him.
He is declared an apprentice, and then... this part came very
tortuously from Alex' lips. Without any previous warning, four or
five of these men grab him, pin him backwards onto a table, pull
off his pants, and then castrate him in front of everyone, with an
enormous old kind of ceremonial knife, almost killing him with pain
and blood loss. Then they keep him locked up in a small, almost
empty cellar room, while he gets that infection. No way to clean
the wound, and only some toilet paper to absorb blood and oozing
liquids. He covers the wound with a stack of toilet paper to keep
his underpants from sticking to it. After several days they let him
out of there, and try to brain-wash him into thinking that this was
a great honor, and that he is something very special now. Soon
later he manages to escape. Very confused, in pain and in fear, he
does not go to the police, but returns to the street kid gang. They
receive him well at first, but when he tells what has happened,
they tell him to get lost and never return, as they want no
'nukes', as they call them. He tries to stay, after all the
abandoned factory building inhabited by that group is the only home
he has. But they throw him out. He tries to defend his rights, a
fight starts. One of the kids pulls out a knife, Alex notices only
when he feels the blood on his tummy. He flees in wild fear and
desperation. At least his former friends had brought him back into
the real world. He makes out a place in a subway station, the
warmest place he can find for sleeping. But before the station
closes for the night, the guards throw him out of there. He walks
and walks, until pain and tiredness overwhelm him. He sits down in
my street, not knowing what to do. And that's when I found him.
After hearing this story, I could not help wondering how this boy
had preserved his wit and good manners through all of this. The
uncle and aunt must have done a great job of education on him,
after all. In fact, Alex admitted that they were quite OK, it's
mostly his cousins who drove him to the point of running away.
I had already told you, it helps to be a lawyer. It wasn't hard to
obtain temporary tutorship over Alex, and after several months,
with his relative's blessings, I adopted him. He has brought my
life back into tracks. He showed me that I'm not the only one who
suffered a lot. The more time passes, the more I see Alex as a
rightful replacement of Brian. Not that I could ever forget my
little bright Brian, as we all loved to call him, but the fact is
that he is no longer.
Some months later I had a serious talk with Alex about his future.
I explained to him what hormone replacement therapy is, what
effects it would have, and so. I made very clear that it was his
very own and private decision, what he wanted and when. Somehow it
did not surprise me when Alex assumed an attitude of delaying such
a decision. As the years passed, he grew ever more affixed in his
decision not to get any such therapy. He had come to terms with
what he was, and didn't want to change it.
And there was a reason for it. Alex had soon noticed my love for
good music. He took an interest in it, and through his youthful
enthusiasm he soon left me far behind! I soon registered him in the
conservatory. He started taking lessons in violin, and - in
singing! He is doing very well, in fact making faster improvements
with his voice than with his bow work. He has a surprisingly clear
and powerful soprano voice when singing, even if when talking he
employs a lower register and sounds more like a rather high
speaking young man. I think he has a future in this field. And I
too think that he thinks it. Otherwise he would have asked for
hormones already...
For several years I tried to get the weight of the law upon that
obscure castrator's club. But they hide well, change location
quickly, never stay at a given address for too long, and it seems
just impossible to find them. Alex soon showed me the house where
it had happened. The owner was eager to join me in my efforts to
find the sickos, which had vanished without paying the rent, and
caused heavy damage to the house. But he was unable to provide any
usable information about them. They had appeared as obscure to him
as they had to Alex. Only that the damage to the house was less
serious than that to Alex...
But I won't give up. Justice can take some time, but it does come.
The only other legal action to which I have devoted as much of my
time as to this one, was when I made very sure that the drunken
trucker who killed my family would spend a tidy number of years
behind bars.
Since finding Alex, I have never put down the custom of closely
examining any garbage-bag-like bundles I see in the street, when
returning home late at night. Maybe someday God sends me a
replacement for my little Sue... or for my beloved Katja... or even
for both of them... NOOO, I must not think about these
happenings!!!
[Return To The Eunuch
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Thecia's Whim | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Thecia has a whim, and someone loses his balls.Fiction and not for minors. | Thecia’s Whim
My name is Thecia and I’m a 31 year old cutter.
My real career is engineering. I travel a lot and while I live in TX I spend
so much time in NJ that the company keeps a home there for me.
All of my cutting contracts come through a friend and agent in Dallas. He does
the background check and handles the money. His name is “Digger.” Digger
called me with a possible job right in the NJ area. I almost only cut in
Mexico now to avoid legal problems.
He told me that we shouldn’t take this one as it was too risky.
The client was a 50 year old man who had a problem with his daughter. She was
date raped by a 22 year old BMOC. The girl, Julie, was kind of a nerd, when
the star quarterback showed interest in her she folded like a lawn chair.
Being un-worldly she didn’t know anything about birth control or “morning
after” pills, so she managed to get herself pregnant. Even though she
protested he raped her brutally, both vaginally and anally.
The client, a guy named Ralph, found out that this young man had a hobby of
crushing young girls. He would hit on them, rape/fuck them once and simply
never speak to them again. He would post their nude pictures on the net,
sometimes with his cock in their mouths. His well connected family had kept
him out of trouble.
Ralph offered me ten thousand dollars a ball for the kid’s nuts. Ralph had a
private eye follow the kid and learned that he worked part time for a Jersey
shore yacht club. In the winter months he had access to a tool room in the
club, there was a bunk in the room.
Ralph’s daughter told us, through Ralph, that he was hitting on a girl in the
chess club who was the same nerdy type.
It was Friday night, so Jill and I staked out the yacht club. Sure enough his
corvette showed up around 11 PM. He and the girl got out and walked to the
room. We crept up and could overhear their conversation. She said, “Bob, are
you sure we should be here?” Bob laughed and replied, “Don’t worry, you’re
with me.” We could hear them making out, but so far she hadn’t said no.
We heard her say, “NO! Not there.” Then we heard a scream. We took that as our
cue and burst in through the door. Bob turned and exclaimed, “What the fuck.”
He was a big guy, more than a match for Jill and I put together. He was a
sight, completely nude with his huge erection pointing toward the ceiling. He
pointed to the door and told us the get the fuck out. I had planned to hit him
in the chest with the tazer, but on a whim I brought the tazer to his rock
hard dick. He jolted and ended up on the ground he held his shocked privates
as he fell.
The girl was in tears, her little asshole was seeping bright red blood. Jill
helped her and took her to a local hospital. I tied up the egotistic big man.
By the time Jill got back I had poor Bob spread eagled, face down on the small
bed. She asked me why he was face down, she knows that I cut from the front. I
asked her if she had her big bag in the car, fully knowing that she did and
what she had in it. She smiled and retrieved the bag.
I rummaged in the bag and found what I was looking for, a big black strap-on
dildo. I said to Bob, “so you like little girl assholes.” “It must feel good,
right?” This thing must have been eight inches long and an inch and a half in
diameter. I don’t have lesbian tendencies nor have I ever had a dick in my
butt, but somehow I knew this was going to be fun (for me, not for him.)
I strapped it on and drove it toward his brown eye. I pushed as hard as I
could but it wouldn’t start. My pelvis hurt from trying. In the corner was a
small bottle of “2 cycle” oil. I put a drop on the tip and tried again. The
first inch slipped in with some difficulty and a lot of screaming on Bob’s
part. I worked it in and out, a half inch at a time. His screams matched my
strokes. I was getting off on this, I had always wondered what having a dick
would feel like and this was as close as I would ever get. I fucked him for a
good ten minutes. His asshole was bleeding much more than the young girl’s was
when we took her to the hospital. The blood was running down and covered his
big balls.
I banded the neck of his sack with an elastrator and found a garden shear on a
shelf in the room.
I asked him, “Are you going to stop hurting women?” he said, YES, YES, NEVER
AGAIN.”
I hefted his balls and told him that I guess he wouldn’t need these anymore.
His answer was, “NO. NO. PLEASE. PLEASE, NOT MY BALLS.”
I let his still attached balls drop to the bed and Jill reached between his
legs and began to stroke his huge cock. Jill said, “Hmmm, in different times I
might just ride this thing myself.” He seemed to forget his pain as his
erection came back. After a few minutes, Jill looked at me and nodded, he was
ready to cum. She had him rolled on his side as far as the restraints would
allow. When the first huge rope of thick cum shot, I brought the handles of
the shear together. He screamed like a banshee, shaking the walls on the old
outbuilding.
His big balls fell dead on the bed, still encased it their sack. His big dick
kept spewing cum, only now it had the pink tint of blood in it.
I held his nuts in front of his face, sack and all, he screamed again and
passed out.
Jill and I walked to the deserted bulkhead and tossed the shears into the
water, even if they were found the fingerprints and DNA would be washed away
by the salt water. Using my untraceable cell phone I called the local suicide
hotline. (They don’t record their calls) I told them the address and that a
man had tried to kill himself. I knew that they would send help.
Bob’s balls are now in a crystal container on display in Ralph’s den. Bob does
not hurt young women anymore.
On the way home we stopped at an all night diner. I had a Greek salad and Jill
had poached eggs and bacon. I always get hungry when I slice off a nice set of
nuts.
Respectfully Submitted,
Thecia
* * * |
Sally: It's my clit or the gold medal - part 3 | clitoridectomy | Liana's clit gets in the way to the olympic gold. She made her choice. | As I put Sylvie’s clit in the specimen shelve, I notice there are seven jars
are already in the shelve, each with a clit inside and labeled with the
woman’s name, age, and date of her clitoridectomy, and who perform it.
One jar has a nice, big clit inside, it’s labeled Lynn Winsonn, age 23,
clitoridectomy performed on August 23rd, 2020 by Megan Lee, apprentice
clitoridectomist. It’s Megan’s handiwork.
Megan walks by and blinks an eye and smiles at me. I smile back, holding a
scissor and show it to her face.
Dr.Z then taps my shoulder and say, “Sally, this is your next ‘victim’ is
Liana. She prefers privacy, so you’ll be in the cutting booth” Standing next
to me is this athletic looking young lady with unmatched beauty. Her face
looks somewhat familiar. She smiles at me then hug me. I can feel her arms
being so strong. “What a woman” I thought t myself. “I’ll see you as soon as I
get rid of this bush” As she walks to the shaving booth, I admire her super-
tight buttocks and legs thru her tight nylon pants.
I walk inside the cutting booth, checking my instruments. I still have 20
disposable cutting tubes of various sizes, my scalpel is as sharp as ever and
already disinfected, and I have a couple of the plastic band just in case
anyone wants to wait days until her clit falls off.
Liana then walked in, wearing a bathrobe. As she drops her bathrobe, I can see
her naked, athletic body. Her body has nice muscles but not bulging ones like
body builders, she has very nice curves and very feminine, far from being
called a boyish body. Her breasts are nice and firm, and much bigger than
those female athletes. I especially admire her buttocks and legs. They are
very tight. Her legs are long and very nicely shaped.
She lay herself on the table and spread those super nice legs in the air. I
look at her freshly shaven pussy. I can still smell the shaving cream. Her
clit is a good sized one. Even when her legs are closed together, a tiny bit
of it is visible thru her outer labia. It’s also has very short hood, leaving
it exposed all the time.
Sally: “So, what’s the story ?”
Liana: “I’m a cyclist. I almost win a few championships, almost….., but every
time I sit on the saddle, my clit starts to rub and throbs, demanding
attention. So I lose focus on the track and lose the race.”
Sally: “I see”
Liana: “ I’ve tried everything. Wearing a thick padding, also growing my bush,
which I hate, because it’s supposed to provide some kind of cushion so my clit
doesn’t get horny all the time. Nothing works”
Sally: “So you just have to get rid of it”
Sally: “Yes, I’ve begun training for the 2022 Olympics. I am 28 now, by the
time of the Olympic I’ll be 30 years old. This could be my last shot at the
Olympic Gold Medal. So I decided there is no other way. It’s my clit or the
gold medal.”
Sally: ”The scalpel or the cutting tube ? or maybe the clit banding ?”
(smiling)
Liana: “Let’s do it the old fashioned way with the scalpel. And please leave a
tiny stump, just 2 mm will do. That way I can still have some clitoral fun
after the gold medal. With the cutting tube, it will be cut to the base”
Sally: “Ok, no problem, but some women who did half-done job with their clit
usually end up getting cut twice”
Liana: “I can always come back to you” ( smiling)
I start by spraying the anti-bacteria spray. The spray is cold. I can see her
clit getting up and hard when the spray touches it. No wonder she keeps losing
the race, even with those super strong legs. When her clit takes over, her
knees become weak.
I prepare the painkillers. Then I inject her clit, right at the center of the
glans, where the most sensitive part is. Her body jolts. Then two more
injections, each on each side of the clitoris, where the roots or legs are, to
temporarily put the nerves to sleep.
Then I clamp her clit. She almost screams. Funny, the painkillers should have
worked by now. I inject her clit with more painkillers, but when the needle
pierces the skin, she jolts. After four injections, I call for help.
Dr.Z explains that Liana’s body might be immune to the painkillers, and since
the maximum amount has been used, no more injection is advisable.
Dr.Z: “Liana, your body resists the painkiller. You have two options. Abort
the surgery or go ahead. But I must warn you, it’s going to be painful”
Liana: “I’m not backing out. Please, cut me”
Dr.Z: “Ok, we’ll do it like the old days”
Dr.Z then gives her a piece of cloth to bite, so she won’t scream during the
cutting. If she screams, the other girls waiting to get cut might be scared
away and decide to back out.
So I clamp her hard clit, again. I can see her face expressing a bit of pain.
I have to work quickly and swiftly, she can feel my every move. I see her face
again. I think I could be wrong. She might be enjoying it. So I decide not to
rush this delicate job.
I make sure her clit is tightly clamped. If the clamp slips during the
cutting, it’s going to be a disaster. Then I pull the clamp and lock it in
position. Her clit is firmly clamped. Then I stretch her clitoris all the way.
I take the marking pen, making sure to leave a stump as I mark her clitoris.
Each time the sharp tip of the pen touches her clitoris, her body jolts and
she moans.
I think the scissor might do a better job in this case. So I take the scissor,
place her clit in between the scissor blades, carefully watching the cutting
line,…… then SNIPS
One swift, clean snips of the scissor cleanly cuts off her clit. She almost
screams but fortunately she has that piece of cloth in her mouth. I put away
the forceps, with her clit still clamped on it on the table.
As always, I clean up the wound and cauterize it with laser. Few minutes
later, Liana is up on her strong legs again. She hugs and kiss me on the
cheek, then put on her clothes.
As she’s leaving the cutting booth, I say to her, “You can come back anytime
to finish off that stump.” She smiles and run off.
I like to have my clit specimens preserved as good as possible. So I clean up
my specimen right away and put in the preserving liquid.
As I drop Liana’s clit into the specimen jar, something struck me. I know I’ve
seen her somewhere. I remember watching this TV show about the Olympic, and
she was “The girl who keeps dodging the gold medal”
Well, I hope her clit won’t be bothering her training program anymore.
TO BE CONTINUED
* * * |
Waxing Party Surprise, part 3, The Event | GAY, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Waxing and experimental procedures | The farm has new family members and they are learning the ropes | The Event
Part three of “Waxing Party Surprise”
The farm has new family members and they are learning the ropes
PLEASE NOTE; This story is written from the author’s point of view, as a
layperson. Medical terminology and procedures are described as accurately as
possible but the reader must understand that the author is not a medical
professional and some misunderstandings of actual procedures might be
portrayed. This is adult fiction based on a true location, people and events;
clues to which are spread throughout the writing. If you haven’t read ‘Waxing
Party Surprise’, parts 1 & 2, you might get a little lost in this story. This
is a part 3 of that story. It is the author’s wish that this writing fuel
fires of fantasy. Enjoy!
Saturday Morning
David and I awoke to the usual clattering of early morning kitchen noises. The
boys were oddly still asleep. Dan and Allan were soundly asleep as well. We
looked at each other and settled into our usual morning coupling.
“Your brother snores”, I said in David’s ear, snuggling up into his open legs
with my woody.
“No more than you do, you old fart”, David replied, jabbing my ribs, then
wrapping his legs around my ass and hugging me tight.
We started to grind slowly. I was working on his prostate and looking at his
face. David usually watches me but this morning he had his eyes closed.
“Concentrating or dreaming about shopping?” I asked.
“You meanie”, he said as he opened his eyes and smiled up at me.
Allan and Dan stirred. Dan’s watch was beeping. We looked at each other and
smiled.
“Why does he set that thing if he’s not going anywhere?” I whispered.
“Hey, what are you two doing? Are you having sex without me?” Allan yawned,
crawling over to us to give David a kiss ‘good morning’.
Dan slapped Allan’s ass and rolled over on him. He crawled up on Allan’s chest
and kissed me and then David before settling on Allan like he was covering him
to keep him warm. David extended his arm to pull Allan’s head into his
shoulder. He rubbed Dan’s hair. Dan was trying to stick his small penis in
Allan’s tightens. Allan raised his legs and ass to meet it. The boys stirred,
having heard voices. Art sat up and looked over at us. Aaron sat up beside him
and helped Todd sit up. They helped Todd out of the bed and all three went
into the bathroom. We could hear them giggling through the door.
“Oh man, that feels so good!” Dan sighed.
He didn’t need to do anything but get it in all the way to get off. Allan
likes it and allows him to put it in as often as he wants to. Allan can climax
without movement too. Emotion is enough for those two. Aaron and Art bounced
out of the bathroom and flopped on the bed. Todd walked to the bed and sat on
the side. Dan rolled off of Allan and lay there looking at the three of them.
He smiled and grabbed Aaron, pulling him up to his big chest. Art squealed and
jumped on them. Allan reached out for Todd and got him to slide in with them.
There were four adults and three boys snuggling up together in the giant bed.
The boys were giggling about Art’s erection again. They were comparing his to
Allan’s and wondering when it would be bigger. Aaron sat up on Allan’s legs
and put his penis against Allan’s to see how different they were. He compared
Todd’s with Dan’s. They were the same size but Dan was circumcised. Art’s was
actually a little bigger than it was a couple of days ago. It looked like it
might be over an inch now. It was two ‘boy-fingers’ worth. Aaron rolled over
and rubbed Todd and Art at the same time. They giggled at the attention. Mac
was ringing the bell downstairs and we got out of bed, toting the giggling
boys with us into the kitchen.
“Morning sleepy heads. Everybody’s out on the deck except for Joseph. I heard
him moving around but he hasn’t come down yet.” Mac said. “Coffee pot is on
the grill.”
We went on outside and everyone was here. Matt and Mark were smiling about
something with Grayson and Marty. The ‘twins’, Olin and Mica, seemed in much
better spirits. They were smiling and didn’t appear to be in any pain. David
and I went over to the showerhead and rinsed off. Art and Aaron joined us. We
let them soap us up even though we were just rinsing the sleep off. Dan and
Allan pushed us out of the way and they had to soap them up too. We tussled
around a bit but got all the soap off, laughing about how Dan’s skin looked in
the morning light. He needed a tan for sure. He could get one now that all his
fur was gone. Art and Aaron went over to the table and shook their hair on
Matt and Mark, causing them to grapple them into their laps. Todd was sitting
on Little Joe’s lap with his head back against his daddy’s chest with his
little boner sticking straight up.
“You boy’s seem to be in better spirits”, I said to Olin and Mica. “Off the
drugs?”
“Perry said they could wake up now”, laughed Frank, rubbing Mica’s hair.
“My stitches don’t hurt anymore”, said Mica.
Neither of them had their usual erections. Randy had his laces out and Isaac
was holding him in his lap and feeding him breakfast. They must have had one
interesting night over at Frank and Steve’s.
“How’s the arm buddy?” Perry asked Todd.
“It feels OK. It don’t hurt”, Todd replied.
“We’ll let you out of that sling in a couple of days.” Perry reassured him.
“You’re right handed aren’t you?”
“Yes sir”, Todd replied.
“Well, looks like you won’t be writing much for a while. If you need any help,
don’t be afraid to ask. OK?” Perry said.
“You think he’ll have full motion after it’s set?” Little Joe asked.
“Well, going just by feel alone, it felt like a clean break. There was
swelling and that’s normal. We’ll know more in a few days. The splint is
awkward but we need to keep his fingers up to make the bones meet. I thought
I’d run him in to the office and X-ray it, if that’s OK with you. After I get
a clear picture I’ll put a cast on it. He should be able to use his fingers
some after that”, Perry said.
“That would be fine with me but I need to get Pops back to the reservation by
lunchtime. He has a council meeting to attend. Can Art and Aaron go and keep
him company?” Little Joe asked.
“Sure, it looks like these guys are going to be a trio”, Perry said, tickling
Todd’s ear.
“Good morning Joseph….Coffee?” Mike asked.
“Sure”, the old man said.
“How you feeling, Pops?” Little Joe asked.
“Stiff and cranky as usual. You boys ain’t cold?” Joseph asked Todd.
“No sir, it’s 80 degrees out here already”, Todd replied.
“Guess it’s my old bones”, Joseph said brushing the cheek of his grandson.
“Mike’s playing short-order this morning, Joseph. Would you care for anything
to eat?” Mac asked.
“Just coffee right now, I’m not all that hungry.” Joseph replied, siting down
next to Little Joe and Todd.
“Why don’t you let Perry check you out, Joseph. When’s the last time you had a
physical?” Mac asked.
“Never”, Joseph replied. “I don’t need a Doctor to tell me I’m old”, Joseph
replied smiling. “Nothing a little exercise won’t cure. I’ll go for a walk in
a bit.”
“OK, but if you need anything, we’re willing”, Mac said.
Jamie’s dog, Little Bit was barking at Larry for attention. She wanted more
bacon. She got it.
“You guys are going to spoil that dog and she won’t want to go home”, said
Jamie.
“Why would she need to go anywhere?” asked Mac.
“Well, I don’t want to leave her here. She’s my baby.” Jamie said bemused at
the thought.
“I meant she is at home”, Mac said, smiling.
“What are you talking about?” asked Jamie, confusion clouding his face.
“Perry hasn’t talked to you yet, I see. I would like you to stay out here a
while. We need someone with construction experience and you need a job. I was
hoping you’d consider it. There are a lot of plans for several new buildings
and I’d like all of them to have an original look, so I was thinking a welder
would come in handy. Do you know anything about cast-iron work?” Mac asked
him.
“I’ve dabbled with forging before but I don’t have any of the tools anymore”,
Jamie said intrigued.
“We can get you anything you need. Just make a list. I’m hoping that at lease
one or more of the boys would find that type of work interesting. It could be
a good educational experience.” Mac said. “I know Isaac wants you to show him
how to weld and an old blacksmith’s forge in the barn area would be a crowd-
pleaser when we have events and gatherings.”
“Well, I’ll be. I never expected that. I’d like that, I think. Forging iron
was a hobby of mine years ago. It might be nice to do it again”, Jamie said.
“What’s this I hear about you loosing your cherry last night?” Perry asked
Jamie, squeezing his shoulder for attention.
“Ah, man! Grayson and Marty running their mouths…. I’m going to open a big ol’
can of whoop-ass.” Jamie said embarrassed.
“Now, now, they are just proud for you. You said they could watch so they
probably don’t realize it’s an off-limits subject. How do you feel about it?”
Perry asked.
“Well, I guess I can’t get any more embarrassed than I am now, jeez!” Jamie
said red-faced. “I sure don’t know what to think, except I want it to happen
again real soon!”
“Well, when you work up to Grayson’s level, let me know. I’d like to see
that!” Perry said as he walked off giving Jamie the thumbs-up.
“God! There really is no secrets out here is there?” Jamie asked.
“No, not really”, Mac said smiling. “Well. Finish eating and work on a list
for me and I’ll see what the antique dealers in the area can come up with. If
you know of any modern-day suppliers put them on the list too. I want the
place as authentic as possible. Now, I am going into town with James and Hank.
Is there anything you need?”
“No, well, I don’t, but Little Bit needs something for fleas”, Jamie replied.
“We’re going to the feed store. I’m sure they have something. Do you want a
bath, drops or spray?” Mac asked.
“Drops but she needs a bath too. Sprays scare her.” Jamie said.
“Done. I had better get going. Randy, could you go find James and Hank? We
need to go to town and it’s only going to get hotter”, Mac asked the little
red-head.
“Mac, if I’m going to stay out here, I’d like to close out my apartment. It’s
just gathering bills I can’t pay”, Jamie asked.
“Good idea. Talk to Matt. That’s his department and he can take care of it on
Monday.” Mac said.
Randy went off looking for James and Hank. They were still out in the tractor
shed setting up the bucket-loader on the tractor to start clearing land for
the new bunkhouse. Isaac, Ed and Larry followed him. They got to the tractor
shed and rounded the corner into the entrance. It took them a second or two to
adjust to the dim light having been out in the bright morning sunshine. James
and Hank were on opposite sides of the tractor on the ground, on their backs
trying to attach the hydraulic hoses. Both had their castrated groins exposed
for anyone’s viewing. Larry walked up to Hanks side and stood between his
legs. It was a few seconds before Hank noticed.
“Hey, help arrived”, Hank called over to James.
“Mac sent me to fetch you two. You’re going into town and he wants you to get
cleaned up.” Randy said.
“Well, we got to get this bucket on this tractor so Sam and Mike can use it
after breakfast. Larry let go of my dick”, Hank said.
“If you guys came out here to play, we’re busy”, James said.
“Can we help?” asked Isaac.
“Not unless you got any new seals stuck up your ass”, James answered
irritably.
“Come on, James. We’ve been fooling with this thing all morning. We’re either
not doing it right or the connections are too old”, Hank said.
Hank sat up on the dirt floor of the shed. He brushed the dirt off his back
and slung dirt out of his hair. Larry laughed and brushed the dirt off his ass
when he helped pull him up. Ed pulled James up and slapped his ass.
“Ow! My ass ain’t that dirty”, James cried.
“Maybe Jamie might know how to put this thing back together.” Isaac
volunteered.
“Well, you guys will have to come back out here with him and just do what he
says. He can’t be down here on the dirt. He’s still sick. We need to get”,
Hank said.
All six of them raced back to the yard. James and Hank ran over to get
showered. Ed and Larry went to talk to Jamie. He agreed to go out to the shed
with them and Isaac and Randy tagged along. Hank and James got cleaned up and
were toweling their hair when Mac came back outside.
“You boys have anything you can wear to town?” Mac asked.
“We found some old jeans and we have some “T”-shirts. I’ve got sneakers and
Hank has sandals”, James said. “Is that OK?”
“As long as you wear something. Can’t go off the property naked. I’ll be ready
to head out in a little bit.” Mac replied. “Joseph, are you coming back after
your meeting?”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to today. Maybe tomorrow. Little Joe needs to go
by the casino and I need to check on some of the mustangs. It’s round-up
time.” Joseph replied.
“Well, I hope you can come back. We’re having dinner on the grounds tomorrow
down by the creek. It should be real nice.” Mac said.
“I will try to make it. Todd is staying here and Little Joe will be back
tomorrow so we’ll see.” Joseph said.
Perry was getting Todd, Art and Aaron inside to get dressed to go to his
office. Dan and Allan, David and I were talking to Steve and Frank about some
of the boys’ experiences last night. Dan got an earful. He’d never heard of a
fuck machine. Mark and Matt were laughing at his expressions. Allan was keenly
interested in seeing the contraptions.
“Lets go down there and look at those things”, Dan suggested.
“I have to show off a new Subdivision this afternoon. I’ll be gone until dark,
you’ll have to get your big brother to take you”, Allan smiled. “Why don’t you
get some sun while I’m gone.”
“Yeah, you need it. You’ve been blinding everyone since you walked outside!”
Matt joked.
Dan picked up Matt and hoisted him over his huge shoulders and spun him
around. Mark tried to ‘rescue’ his lover but Dan picked him up too. He had
them both in convulsions after a few seconds.
“Wow, you’re strong”, laughed Mark when he caught his breath.
“Why don’t you and the ‘pets’ take this big guy off and get some sun-bathing
out of the way before it gets really hot?” Matt asked Mark.
Dan kissed Allan and grabbed Brewer and threw him over his shoulder and
followed Billy and Mark off into the pasture. Allan went indoors to get
presentable for the Realty market. Matt went indoors behind him to talk to
Perry.
“He sure has opened up a lot since Thursday night”, observed Steve.
“He kept himself closed off for 20 years, it’s about time”, David said.
“He looks a lot like David did at that age”, I said.
“I never had all those big muscles”, David said.
“He’s going to be tired when he gets back from sun-tanning”, mused Frank.
“How can he get tired from sun-bathing?” David asked.
“He’s the only one with an available dick out there”, laughed Frank.
We had a laugh about that. I doubted Dan would but who knows. He has opened up
a lot more and seems freer with himself now that he’s admitted his love for
Allan and shed his clothes in public. Perry came out with the boys all dressed
for town. Art ran over to us to get a hug and ask if we wanted anything from
town.
“No, you go have some fun and help make Todd comfortable. We’ll be fine. You
sure do look nice. Be good and do what Perry wants. OK?” I said.
He said, “OK” and dashed off to Perry’s waiting car.
“Joseph, you guys have a safe trip and I hope to see you tomorrow”, Perry
called, waving.
Mac came out with James and Hank. Olin and Mica ran over to them to beg for
treats from town. Grayson and Marty wanted to go with them but Mac said it was
‘their turn’. He got James and Hank in the car and Grayson, Marty, Olin and
Mica returned to the game they were playing on the deck. Allan left right
after they pulled out.
“Well, what are we going to do all day guys?” I asked, looking at Jim, Jacob,
Frank and Steve.
“Jim and I thought we’d ride down to the lot and see what it looks like but I
want to be back here by lunch. I promised Michael a cake. He gets his stitches
out today and he’s been a real good sport about it all”, Jacob said.
“How are they feeling?” asked David.
“Well, Michael’s head was hurting when he woke up and Josh’s ass was on fire
again after he went to the bathroom, but we packed him with hemorrhoid cream
and put him back in bed with Michael”, Jacob replied. “How’s your head
feeling, Frank?”
“Oh, I’ve had worse at work, I’ll be fine.” Frank replied.
“You know, we’re all going to be neighbors in a few months”, I said smiling.
“We’ll have to have cook outs and Bar-b-Q’s”, Frank said.
“I’d like that. You think we could see some of those house plans you have?”
Jim asked.
“Sure. They’re all magazine types but I got some real good ideas. Jamie’s
going to draw something up from the sketches and doodles Steve and Mac and I
have put together”, David said.
“How many rooms are you planning?” Jacob asked.
“Well, three right now but that may change now that Dan and Allan are
together”, I said.
“Are they going to move in with you?” Steve asked.
“Not that I know of but I’m sure they will be around a lot. David and Dan’s
mom still needs a lot of attention and she still wants to hang on to the
family home. Dan wants her to sell it. I think she should too. It’s full of
memories, so…” I said.
“She just doesn’t want to go into a home somewhere. She needs assisted living
but doesn’t want to admit it yet. Now that we have Art, I bet she’ll come live
with us”, David said.
“Oh, jeez, that’s all we need!” I said, ducking his swipe.
“We wouldn’t be where we are if it weren’t for her, now stop”, David rebuked
me.
“What do you think she’ll say about Dan coming out of the closet?” Steve
asked.
“I don’t know. She’s been pestering him to do something besides hang around
the house. He never dated and as far as I know. Allan is the only one he’s
ever been with and that was night before last”, David said smiling. “I don’t
think my mother cares one way or the other if it’s a woman or man, she just
didn’t want him to grow old and lonely.”
“If she were to move in with you guys, wouldn’t that put a damper on the
nudity?” Frank asked.
“We were thinking about that just last night”, I said.
“Art sure doesn’t want to get dressed unless you bribe him”, David said. “But
she’ll probably over-look a kid running around naked. It’s me and Artie that
will suffer!” he laughed.
“We were thinking about putting up a sign at the end of the road at our lower
property line, warning people that they are entering a naturist preserve. No
one has ever thought about it before because we didn’t really need to. I think
it would solve a lot of confusion especially since we’re outside all the time.
When people see the sign, they can turn around or expect to get an eye full”,
Frank said.
“I was thinking about something like that too. What do you think about joining
our properties with Perry’s and Mac’s to form a consortium of sorts?” I
offered.
“You mean like a business or something?” Frank asked.
“Well, I don’t know just yet but I thought about asking Matt about it”, I
said.
“Ask Matt about what?” Matt surprised me.
“About joining all of our land with this place to have what it’d take to make
it a preserve or nudist colony or something legal.” I said.
“Well, this place already has statutes in place from back when it was a
plantation. It’d just be paperwork and filing, but yeah, if Perry and Mac
agree. This place can govern itself. It’s posted and deeded out of the county
government jurisdiction. People post their properties all the time not
realizing what it actually means. If you join your lands to this, the
legalities fall to you also.” Matt replied. “You’d have to put up a fence
along the border and post signs and keep up with them but that’s about it.”
“Would we need to plant trees for privacy?” David asked.
“Well, public decency would dictate that. You don’t have the right to display
a nuisance but we’ll educate you about it all if you are really serious.” Matt
said. “This place is square in the middle of the land holding and not subject
to scrutiny, and it’s fenced and posted. So if someone were to walk through
the woods, trespassing, they’d have no grounds for any claims”, he said. “Your
lands are bordered by federal land as well as state and county land, so
privacy fencing or plantings would be a good idea.”
In the Tractor Shed
“Well, it looks like someone was trying to connect ‘A’ to ‘A’ instead of ‘A’
to ‘B’.” Jamie said looking at the hoses on the bucket loader. “Put that hose
over here and the other one over there. Do any of you know how to drive this
thing?”
“I can”, said Ed. “You want me to crank ‘er up?”
“Yeah, but don’t move the bucket and don’t rev it up until the oil heats up
and we can see if there is any leaks”, Jamie advised. “Whoa, check the oil in
the crank case before you start it up. You should always check the fluids in a
diesel before cranking. Do that, and they’ll last forever.”
Ed jumped down and pulled the dipstick. Jamie showed him what it should be and
also made sure he checked the radiator and hydraulic oil levels.
“The biggest thing about a diesel, is the filters and fluids. You keep those
clean and you should never have anything major happen to the motor. Without a
motor, no tractor.” Jamie said. “OK, now you are ready to crank her up. Watch
the temperature gauge and when it’s past the cold mark, you can try the
bucket.”
Ed jumped back up onto the tractor and fired it up. Larry and Randy climbed up
beside him on each side. The vibrations were giving Larry an erection. He paid
no attention to it. Jamie noticed, and so did Isaac. Isaac noticed Jamie’s
expression more than anything. It almost looked like longing.
“You know, he’ll help you out anytime you want him to.” Isaac said, over the
noise of the tractor.
“What?” Jamie asked.
“He’ll let you use it anytime you want to.” Isaac replied.
“Use what?” Jamie asked again, confused.
“His dick, silly”, laughed Isaac.
Jamie turned red instantly, “I don’t know what you mean”, he said.
“I see you looking at him. He’s hard all the time. I wish I could do that.”
Isaac said, a little embarrassed for having said it.
“Well, I used to be like that before I got sick. I didn’t mean to stare at
him. I guess it’s true, people want what they don’t have. I couldn’t use that
one, it’s too big”, Jamie said, with a weak smile, embarrassed at having his
‘needs’ exposed.
“I wish I was as big as he is. He did Randy and made him cum twice. I nearly
pass out trying to do that”, Isaac said. “Larry barely breaks a sweat.”
“Well, I’m not ready to try anything that large yet. I’m not even up to your
size yet kid.” Jamie said feigning a punch to Isaac’s jaw.
“I never thought of mine as too big before”, Isaac laughed.
“Well, you are. You’re bigger than the tools Mike and Sam used on me last
night and I had a hard time learning to use them”, Jamie struggled to find
appropriate words.
“Well, real is better than toys any day”, Isaac said starting to get an
erection from the thoughts.
“See, you do get big. It’s not the same thickness as Larry but it’s about as
long. You’re still growing aren’t you? How old are you?” Jamie asked.
“I’m 17”, Isaac said, his thin boner at full mast, flat against his belly.
“Wow, I didn’t know that. I thought you were 13 or 14. I keep forgetting that
all you guys got waxed last week. That makes me feel a little different.”
Jamie said.
“Different? How?” Isaac asked.
“Oh, I just meant that I might think about using your tool next time I need
one”, Jamie said slyly, winking at the boy. “Lets try out this bucket now, it
ought to be hot now.” He said in Ed’s direction waving his hand for attention,
then giving him the thumbs up sign.
The tractor was ready for use but Perry had left orders for Sam and Mike to do
the clearing, so the boys climbed down off the unit and Ed shut the motor
down. He jumped off the tractor and slapped Isaac’s penis making it smack his
belly.
“Hey! That hurts doofuss”, Isaac said as he chased Ed off into the yard.
Larry and Randy chased after them leaving Jamie to smile at their
youthfulness. Little Bit ran out to meet him and jumped up and down for
attention. She jumped and ran beside him all the way back to the house. He sat
down on the deck next to Matt and watched Olin and Mica, still playing their
game with Marty and Grayson.
“They sure aren’t as busy as they were the other day,” Jamie said half out-
loud.
“Castration sort-of does that,” Matt said.
“You mean they won’t be so childlike anymore?” Jamie asked.
“No, well, it’s too hard to determine after only a few days. Everyone is so
different in the way they are built. Those boys were obviously hormonally
tanked and that was interfering with their abilities to concentrate. Now that
they aren’t so sexed-up, they might just be able to have a more ‘normal’ life
now, like normal boys. Only time will tell. If they stop producing erections
altogether, Perry might try a maintenance dose to keep them with their peers.
Sex at that age is an important right-of-passage but again, just have to wait
and see.” Matt finished.
“How much hormones do you take?” Jamie asked Matt.
“Not a lot, I’m on a maintenance level. I can get an erection with a little
effort. It doesn’t rule me like it used to last year. I could not concentrate
on work half the time. I was horny all the time, and walked around with a
boner all day. Now, I can control it. I had just started my practice and had
met Mark. He was nearly a complete nullo when I met him. I met all these folks
and became their lawyer and a eunuch the same night.” Matt replied. “The body
hair isn’t such a problem anymore either.”
“Why did you get the end of your dick cut off?” Jamie asked.
“I thought it would look nicer. I never liked my glans. It was too big and
fat. Mark showed me pictures of each stage of his development and I liked what
I saw. He used to be very well hung. Being trimmed, I last a lot longer in the
sack” Matt said smiling.
“This place is something else. Every time I think I got things figured out, I
get another surprise"” Jamie said laughing and shaking his head.
“That’s just the straight man in your brain screaming to get out” laughed
Matt.
“Yeah, I guess” Jamie replied smiling. “Hey, Mac said you could close out my
lease. I’m going to be staying here for however long it takes to build Mac’s
antique village, so I don’t need to keep piling up bills over there. Think you
could get my landlord to let me out of my lease?”
“Sure, not a problem. Your illness will be a factor if it is a standard lease.
Make sure I have his contact info and I’ll make an appointment to meet with
him. If there is any other legal matters you need handled, make sure to put
that down too. We can sort-of make you disappear as long as you are out here.
There’s no need to have any responsibilities outside of this property while
you are here. It’s nice that you have something interesting to do but you
don’t need any worries. The boys are going to be worrisome enough! Do you
think you will like being a sort-of teacher?” Matt asked.
“I like most of the boys.” Jamie said laughing. “Of course, I haven’t had to
deal with all of them much either.” He said smiling. “It’s so hard to remember
that they aren’t little children.” Then he had a thought, “Hey, my best friend
has all my legal papers, you know, in case something happened at the hospital,
but of course, I didn’t go to the hospital. He doesn’t know I’m staying out
here. Can you get someone to go over there and maybe help me change my address
too?”
“Sure, just make sure to see me before I leave Monday and you might want to
call your buddy and warn him.” Matt said. “Mark is going to take a teaching
position here. We’re starting a home school, so you won’t have to deal with
the boys a lot during the week. We still have to figure out where we are going
to sleep. I don’t want him to have to commute everyday.” Matt said, then
whispered, “he’s not the best driver in the world.” Then he laughed, “we might
as well give up our own apartment. This place sure grows on you!”
Joseph was getting his gear together to leave. Larry and Ed were asking him to
come back. He winked at them and said he was and he’d be bringing a surprise.
Little Joe helped get him settled in the truck and he waved to us all.
“Y’all be careful on that long drive.” Frank called.
“We will. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Little Joe called back and backed the
truck out.
They took off down the road and passed 3 cars that were driving up to the
house. The occupants of the cars were some of the men that were participating
in the event to be held later in the afternoon. Mike went out to meet them and
give them directions to the cabin. The driver of the first car, who got out to
talk to Mike, got back in his car and led the others off through the woods to
the cabin. Mike went to find Sam and tell him they were needed at the cabin a
little early. They still needed to get the refreshments and food ready to go
to the cabin. Frank told Mike to get Sam to go on over there and see to the
guests and he would help him get the food together. David and I got up to go
in and help Frank. Steve stayed on the deck to watch the boys. Jim and Jacob
got up to go down to their new lot. I told them I’d look in on their boys.
At Lott’s Feed Store
“Now boys, I want you to have at least 5 pairs of dungarees and at least 5
good quality shirts to work in or wear to town when you need to go. You won’t
need anything at the farm unless you just want to. They have some really nice
boots and work shoes, so just pick out what suits you. I think you should have
at least one pair of good work boots. I’ll go pick out some supplies while you
get clothes. If I get finished before you do, come over to the Market next
door. I’ll be in there getting groceries.” Mac said.
“We just pick out what we want?” James asked incredulously.
“Sure, you do know your sizes and all don’t you?” Mac asked.
“I’ve never really shopped for clothes before.” James answered.
“I have but these prices freak me out!” Hank exclaimed.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about the prices. The apparel here is very good
quality and will last for years, unless you guys pork out”, Mac poked James
for effect. “Let’s find you someone who knows about this type of work goods.
Oh, here’s someone.”
Mac walked up to a tall ‘Eric Close’ looking, sandy-haired boy, one of the
boys who worked at the store, and introduced himself. The boy was Taylor, the
16-year-old son of the storeowner. He had heard of the farm and turned to see
whom Mac was talking about him helping. He saw James and Hank standing
together and instantly started salivating. Mac told him what he wanted James
and Hank to get and to just put it on the farm account. Then he said,
“I’ll see you boys later, just put the things in the car and meet me next
door.”
“Hi, I’m Taylor. My dad owns this store. Come on over and we’ll see what we
can get for you. Do you know your pants sizes?” Taylor asked.
“I think I’m a 30 waist and 32 long”, James answered.
“Yeah, me too”, Hank said. “But I’m not sure if that will fit now.”
“Well, we should measure you to get your correct size. You both look like a
Men’s Medium shirt. What shoe size are you?” Taylor said.
“I’m an 8”, said James.
“I’m a 9”, said Hank.
“Good, we have plenty of those around.” Taylor said reaching for a measuring
tape.
He reached out to wrap it around James and found him to be a 30.
“You were right, now lets measure your inseam”, Taylor said looking at James’s
eyes.
He reached down and stuck the tape in James’s crotch and let the tape fall to
the floor. James had a boner and he had touched it.
“Sorry about that”, the boy said in embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it”, James smiled.
Taylor tried again and put the tape up in James’s crotch again. This time he
held on to it. He could feel James’s boner but he could not feel his balls. He
didn’t think too much about it until he was measuring Hank. He got the same
reaction from Hank but Hank’s boner was trying to stick straight out. He
didn’t feel any balls on Hank either. He stood up and stammered,
“You guys have the same measurements. You can wear each other’s pants.” Taylor
said, still a little red-faced. “Why don’t you try these Carhartts, they are a
really popular brand. You can use the dressing room in the back.”
James and Hank took one pair to the dressing room and both boys went in
together. Taylor thought that was a bit odd but didn’t say anything. He went
about gathering up a few shirts and a couple of other types of work pants. He
headed back to the dressing room and knocked on the door and turned the knob.
“Here are some more for you to try. I brought some shirts for you to try….”
Taylor was lost for words.
James and Hank were naked! They had never been to a quality store before and
didn’t really know what to do, so they just got undressed. Taylor saw they’re
altered groins and waxed bodies, and gasped. He didn’t know what to say or do,
so he just stepped in and shut the door quickly.
“Oh, I sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Ah…you guys don’t have any socks
or underwear?” Taylor managed to get out after a few seconds and he’d
recovered some.
“No, we don’t own any real clothes. What you see are borrowed except for our
“T”-shirts. We got took in by Mac Hall and Doctor Walker. We work for them now
and live with them.” Hank said, noticing Taylor’s discomfort.
“You can look. We don’t mind. We’re used to it.” James offered.
“What happened to you guys?” asked Taylor.
“We got hurt fooling around last week and had to get cut”, Hank replied almost
nonchalantly.
“How did you both get hurt so bad that both of you were castrated?” Taylor
asked amazed.
“We banded ourselves last Friday night and Doc Walker cut us last Saturday.”
James answered.
“By banded, you mean a calf-bander?” Taylor asked.
“Yes”, Hank answered for both of them.
“Ow, didn’t it hurt like hell?” Taylor asked.
“No, we got waxed Friday evening for the swim team and didn’t feel any pain.
Doc Walker uses drugs to numb you up so the waxing doesn’t hurt. We thought we
were just having fun. We’d never seen a banding tool before or knew what it
did. It was cool while it lasted though.” Hank said smiling at the dumbfounded
boy.
“Your dicks don’t look right. What happened to them?” Taylor asked.
“He had to cut the glans off of each of us. We banded them too and they died
from lack of circulation.” James said.
“I guess you can still use them, you both are boned-up”, said Taylor, ‘boned-
up’ himself.
“You can feel it if you want”, offered Hank, the bolder of the two.
James stepped over to Taylor and urged him to step closer. He and Hank felt
the boy up. He didn’t resist. Hank unbuttoned Taylor’s belt and jeans and
reached into his briefs. His medium-sized circumcised penis was rock hard
against his belly and he had a small patch of pubic hair. James got behind him
and slid his jeans down while Hank unbuttoned his shirt. He has a smooth belly
and light peach fuzz on his legs. His green eyes were slits because of the
attention. He was shivering in excitement. Hank squatted down and took
Taylor’s penis into his mouth. He shot off instantly. Hank grinned. The boy’s
balls were so tight up against his dick and his penis was still hard as stone.
Taylor reached out and gently grabbed James’s penis. He wrapped his fingers
around it and brushed the altered tip with his thumb. He felt his way down to
where James’s balls used to be. James was getting his warm-and-fuzzy feeling.
Hank moved to the boy’s ass and tongued him, causing him to gasp. He’d never
had that done before and it was amazing. His boner bounced with each thrust of
Hanks tongue. James bent over and backed up to Taylor’s hard penis. Taylor
grabbed James by his hips and pushed into him. He rode James for a couple of
minutes and came again. His legs gave out and he sat on Hank’s face. Hank
stood up and grabbed him, helping him over to a bench along the back wall.
“I don’t know why I did that. I’ve never done anything like that. That was
wild! You guys do this sort of thing all the time?” Taylor asked.
“That’s why we like living on Doctor Walker’s farm. They are so cool and sex
is OK. There are a bunch of us living there. There are horses and cows and
motorcycles. We never had anything like that where we came from. Our folks
were real poor.” James said.
“Well, we are gay and we are also lovers. If you liked that, then you must be
gay too.” Hank said.
“I never really thought about it but I do get horny when I have to shower at
school. It’s so embarrassing.” Taylor said. “I’ve never had sex with anyone
before. I think I like it. What does it feel like to get fucked like that?”
Taylor asked.
“There’s only one way to find out”, Hank said, pulling the boy up and pushing
his back to encourage him to bend over.
Hank got his pointed dick in Taylor’s sphincter and eased it into him. Taylor
gasped.
“Push out some and it gets easier”, James instructed.
Taylor tried but wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. He started to tremble.
Hank pulled back and gently pushed in again, getting into the boy a little
more. He repeated the movements and eventually got himself completely inserted
into Taylor’s ass. The boy started to calm down and relax some. Hank started a
slow motion aimed at Taylor’s prostate. Taylor climaxed again for the third
time in less than 30 minutes. It wasn’t as forceful as the other two but it
felt wonderful. Hank kept riding his ass until he orgasmed. Hank pulled out of
the boy and helped him stand up. James and Hank helped him to make himself
presentable and he went to the bathroom while they tried on the clothes he had
brought in earlier. Taylor returned a few minutes later with a stack of socks
and underwear. James and Hank both picked out boxers and “T”-shirts of several
different colors and a pack each of over-the-calf tube socks. They put on the
new Carhartts and a new shirt each and walked out into the store to find some
boots and belts. Taylor got them each a jacket and a winter coat, per Mac’s
instructions, as well as a new cowboy hat each. They got all their new
possessions out into the car and also got Taylor’s phone number. He promised
to come out to the farm after work. James and Hank didn’t see Mac in the
store, so they went over to the market. He was just getting to the checkout.
“Well, don’t you boys look nice, what took so long?” Mac asked.
“There was too much to see and do in that store”, Hank said slyly with a grin.
“Aw, did you make a new friend?” Mac cooed, smiling.
“Yeah, you could say that”, James said smiling back at him.
“That Taylor is a cute kid. He has three older brothers in case you are
interested.” Mac said ginning. “Help mother with these bags and we’ll go get
ice cream on the way home.”
James and Hank looked at each other. James still liked to hear those words and
a tear came to his eyes.
“Aw, now you need to get used to hearing that buddy. I told you that you have
a home as long as you need it and I meant it. Now come, let’s get back and see
what kind of mess the men have made of my kitchen.” Mac said with a smile.
They got to the farm road as Jim and Jacob were getting back into Jacob’s car.
Mac honked the horn on the way by. They arrived at the house to a crowded yard
full of cars. Perry had not returned with Art, Aaron and Todd yet and there
were men standing around waiting on someone to tell them what or where to go.
“I guess someone is too busy to give directions. Boys take all this stuff
inside and get some help to get the groceries put away. I need to direct
traffic.” Mac said.
James and Hank ran to get Larry and Ed but they weren’t in the house. Olin and
Mica came out with them as did Marty and Grayson. Steve and Frank were not
there but David and I were. We were upstairs checking on Josh and Michael when
we heard them run into the house calling. David and I went down to check and
saw all the cars too.
“Where did all these guys come from?” David asked.
“One of these guys just told me that they had just arrived ‘in-mass’. I’m
going to lead them all down to the cabin. I had the clearing mowed for people
to park in. Where is everybody?” Mac asked.
“Steve and Frank went with Mike to take food down there. We were upstairs with
Mica, Olin, Josh and Michael. I don’t know where Larry and Ed are. Randy and
Isaac are off somewhere with Jamie. They might all be at the stable.” I said.
“Well, I’ll honk when I pass by if I see them. Can you guys make sure all the
groceries get put away?” Mac asked.
“Why, sure sugar”, answered David, turning to tend to more familiar duties.
“Artie, can you get all the boys rounded up. I really don’t want them around
the event and we still need to feed them. Have you guys started lunch yet?”
Mac asked.
“I found a big box of burger patties and was about to put them on the grill
but Michael needed help with Josh. His butt is still blown-out. He had to go
to the bathroom and he started bleeding again. We put ice in it and sat him on
an ice pack. Jim and Jacob aren’t here, they went down to the lot to walk
around.” I replied.
“We passed them on the way in. They’ll be here soon, I guess. Go ahead and
grill those burgers, we will let them have some fries with them if you can get
the kettle out. I’ll be back shortly.” Mac said as he turned to go lead the
guests down to the cabin.
I sent Grayson to the stables to see if any of the boys were down there and
Marty out in the pasture to look for Dan, Brewer, Billy and Mark. Matt was not
at the house either. He must have gone out there with them. I walked over to
the tractor shed and found Jamie, Randy and Isaac. I rounded the corner of the
shed from the path and almost entered the doorway. I saw them before they saw
me. Isaac was bone-deep in Jamie’s ass. He was laid out on a workbench with
his ass on the edge and his legs over Isaac’s shoulders. His head was back
against the Randy who was sitting behind him leaning against the wall. Jamie’s
eyes were closed and Isaac was working on his prostate. Isaac was sweating,
obviously concentrating, with his eyes closed. Jamie cried out and started
rocking his hips. Randy was smiling at Isaac who opened his eyes. He did it.
He was able to get someone to climax before he did. Isaac slowed his motions
and stopped when Jamie quit convulsing. Isaac pulled out of Jamie’s ass and
Randy took his place. Jamie scooted up against the wall and allowed Randy to
lay on his chest. Isaac went down on Randy’s ass-hole and tongued him a while
allowing his raging boner to relax some. He must have nearly climaxed himself.
He stood up and slowly inserted his thin penis into Randy. Randy laid his head
back against Jamie and rolled his eyes back like he was in his heavenly state.
Isaac wasted no time in hitting Randy’s joy-spot. They came together, giggling
about Isaac’s accomplishment. I walked into the shed then. I clapped for them.
I couldn’t help it. I thought it was funny. The kid has learned quite a lot in
one week. Jamie was a little embarrassed but Randy and Isaac weren’t. Randy
jumped down from the table and helped Jamie down. I told them Mac was back and
lunch was starting. I watched Randy and Isaac run back to the house without
Jamie.
“You know, you don’t need to go off and hide. No one here will judge you.” I
said.
“We really didn’t come out here for sex. It just happened.” Jamie said a
little embarrassed. “We came out to take the bucket off the tractor after Sam
and Mike finished clearing the spot over there, where the bunkhouse is going.
Isaac started talking about trading in my toys for the real deal and I got
over-heated and gave in.”
“Happens to the best of us, bud. It’s a lot better in bed but I can see where
an odd place like that shed might be exciting. Some guys get off on strange
locations.” I said.
“Yeah, it did seem exciting. A little disturbing but exciting. I kept thinking
someone might come out and catch us. That got me even hotter. I can’t believe
I just said that let alone actually did it. If my old friends ever found
out….” Jamie trailed off.
“Hey, like I said, there are no secrets here. You don’t need to hide anything.
If you feel like getting laid, just pick someone out of the crowd! It really
is just that simple.” I said patting him on the back and dusting his arm. “You
might want to rinse off before you go into the house. You have cobwebs in your
hair and greasy dirt on your ass.” I said laughing.
“Ah, thanks”, Jamie said as he stopped at the pump house showerhead.
Dan and Matt were on the deck when we got back. All the extra cars were gone
too. Grayson was walking back from the barn with Larry and Ed. Marty was just
coming out of the house with James and Hank, still wearing their new work
apparel. They were acting like someone had just given them keys to the castle.
“Hey, boy don’t you look like you just walked off the range!” I said
whistling.
“Now I know what Marty felt like the other day”, Hank said. “I’ve never had so
much stuff in my whole life! I just want to hug Mac!”
“Me too”, said James, his eyes red from crying.
“Aw you guys are going to be OK. Wait ‘til you go to town to get your driver’s
licenses. You’ll be real popular with the other boys then. Those Carhartts
sure look good on your cute butts. Wait until Brewer gets a load of you two
dressed up. He’ll be laid out in two seconds.” Matt said, patting James’s ass
and turning Hank around to see his.
“Where is Brewer and Billy?” James asked.
“They went inside, you didn’t see them?” Matt asked.
Whew! Look at you two!” Larry said of James and Hank as he walked up on the
deck. “I think I might need to trade up!” he said running his hands over James
and Hank’s new clothes, especially their tight asses.
“Hey, you have someone for that, he’s inside”, Hank said. “We made a new
friend at Lott’s store. He’s coming out after he gets off. He’s real cute. He
lost his cherry in the dressing room.”
“Shit you say…I guess you guys are back in business, huh?” Ed said slapping
James on the back.
“Hank busted his cherry, not me. I was his first piece.” James said grinning
sheepishly.
Everybody looked at the two and each other. James was known as the ‘top’ in
the relationship and Hank the ‘bottom’. Guess they have learned a few things
this past week also. Jim and Jacob had driven up while I was off watching
Jamie get laid. They came outside with Josh and Michael followed by Billy and
Brewer. Billy was upstairs taking Michael’s stitches out. Michael was parading
around with his dick flopping around. He was grinning. It had a few holes that
were fresh from the removed stitches but Billy had sprayed a dressing to make
them clot over. His belly had the same holes and shiny dressing spray. He was
letting the guys touch it and grinning. He didn’t want to touch it but he was
glad to have it free.
“Perry wants him to get an erection, if he can, so he isn’t going to get a
shot this afternoon”, Jacob said like a proud papa.
“Too bad he won’t be able to use it for a while”, Jim said. “Josh needs a few
more days.”
“Are you still hurting bud?” Dan asked.
“I started bleeding a while ago and it wouldn’t stop. Billy said the ice
should do the trick but Doc Perry needs to look in my ass when he gets home.
Every time I ‘go’, I bleed.” Josh said grimacing.
“Well I hope it gets better real soon. Can’t have you dragging ass around
here!” Hank said wrapping his arm around Josh’s neck.
“Well, I’m going inside to finish the cake I started this morning. Stay on
that ice boy” Jacob said.
“Yes sir”, Josh replied.
“Come up here and sit buddy.” Jim said patting the table.
Josh got up and you could see his ass-hole a little when he bent to turn
around. It was really raw and ugly looking. Twice in one week he’d had his ass
popped and bleeding. I hoped it wasn’t something real serious. Jim placed the
ice pack on the table and helped Josh position himself on it just right. They
watched Michael going around allowing all the boys to ‘pet’ his free dick.
A big black Lincoln drove up into the yard. A man got out of it and walked up
to the gate. He asked one of the boys to ‘get someone’. Randy ran over to Jim
and said the man wanted to speak to an adult. Jim went over to the man and
introduced himself. The man stared at Jim’s enormous genitals. He asked where
the event was and Jim pointed toward the lane going by the stables and talked
while he pointed. The man said he was delivering two bound slaves for the
party and needed someone to verify that they were delivered.
“Yeah, I guess I could do that. Who are they?” Jim asked.
“Sylar and Percival Peabody.” The man said.
“Well, I’ll be. Ah…. You might need to get them out of here. You’re libel to
get them killed before the party starts, and have your delivery ruined. It was
one of my kids that got hurt by Sylar.” Jim said with a frown. “The other boy
that got hurt is standing over there and he’s sworn to kill Percival. Mac Hall
is down at the cabin right now. There are a lot of people down there all ready
to party.”
The man ran back to his big Lincoln and spun tires getting away. He raced down
the lane; probably throwing the former Peabody’s around in the back seat. A
little while later, he drove past the house on his way out. We didn’t find out
until later what happened to Sylar and Percival.
David came out with a big platter of burgers and put them on the hot grill. I
got up and went after the kettle fryer. Soon the deck was awash in sensuous
smells that only a grilled burger could produce. Jacob came out with Michael’s
cake and Isaac came out with a platter of ‘fixings’. Olin and Mica brought out
the buns and condiments. Grayson and Marty set the tables. They used plastic
picnic plates because they couldn’t find any paper plates. Perry drove up with
Art, Aaron and Todd. The boys ran over to us followed by Perry carrying Todd.
His eyes were a little red.
“You guys are just in time. What’s wrong with Todd? Why are you crying buddy?”
David asked.
“I had to put a staple in his arm. The pain meds wore off on the way back. I’m
going to get something from the office for him.” Perry said setting the boy
down next to David.
“Aw, there, there buddy, it will be OK in just a little while. Are you
hungry?” David asked him.
Todd looked up and nodded.
“Art, Aaron, help him get what he wants. OK?” David requested.
Art and Aaron jumped up to help Todd stand and helped him out of his street
clothes. They undressed themselves and they all went over to the ‘buffet’.
Perry returned and gave Todd a pill and got him a glass of tea to wash it down
with. David went to start frying the fries.
“You’ll feel better in a few minutes buddy. Try to eat something. Hey, we’re
having french fries. Great! I love french fries!” Perry said, sitting down
beside Jim and me.
“Guess who came out here while you were gone”, I said.
“Percy and Sylar?” Perry asked.
“Yes, how did you know?” I asked.
“Syndicate orders”, Perry said quietly.
He smiled and looked around.
“Let’s not think about unpleasant things. I see Michael is swinging again.
Come here boy and let me see that thing!” Perry boomed. “Well, you might have
a few scars but it looks OK. Can you feel it well?”
“Yes sir”, Michael said softly.
“Well, that’s a good thing isn’t it?” Perry asked.
“I guess so”, Michael said.
“Well, you’ll feel different after the drugs wear off. If it hurts, just say
so and we’ll treat it. Now don’t be pulling on it too much. Your skin is still
really tender. If it itches on the inside, I want to know right away. Hear
me?” Perry demanded.
“Yes sir”, Michael said, turning to go over to the buffet.
“He’s a little down about the way it looks, that’s all”, Jacob said. “Billy
said it’ll take a day or two for the holes to shrink up. Do you think he’ll
have really big scars?”
“I’m not too sure right at the moment. It shouldn’t be any different than
piercing scars that have closed over. With his dark skin tone, who knows… if
it’s really noticeable, and really tragic for him, we’ll do some cosmetics on
him. Just keep him on the bromelain, papain and L-lysine three times a day.
That should help eliminate a lot of scar tissue.” Perry advised. “Hey make
mine extra crispy”, he called to David who was dropping frozen french fries in
the hot oil.
“Josh is bleeding again. The ice didn’t stop it like it did last week”, Jacob
said.
“Well, he might have a small tear in there. Unless he’s bleeding profusely, I
wouldn’t do anything but the ice and ointment. I’ll scope him after lunch just
to be sure. You feeling like eating buddy?” Perry asked Josh, rubbing his
knee.
“Yes sir, I’m real hungry. I didn’t eat breakfast.” Josh replied.
“Well, that’s a good sign.” Perry said smiling. “We’ll go play with your ass
after lunch. If you’re a good boy, I might do you a favor while I’m in there,”
he laughed.
Josh blushed at the thought. Larry and Brewer came to sit at their table, and
Michael came with a plate full of burgers and fries. Ed and Billy sat on the
other side of the table and put a bottle of ketchup on the table. Matt and
Mark came over to sit by Michael. Mark kept ‘tweaking’ Michael’s freed-up
penis, giggling. Michael was giggling too. Jim helped Josh get off the table
and on the bench.
“Your cute ass might be distracting to your fellow diners.” Jim joked.
Perry came and sat by me again. He had a big plate of fries and one burger.
“Have to give up something to get something. Mac never lets me eat fries. Got
to hurry while he’s still at the cabin. He did say he was coming back didn’t
he?” Perry asked.
“Yes, he said he was.” I said. “When are you going down there?”
“Oh, I won’t go until the last minute. Sam and Mike know what needs to be
done. All the participants are supposed to get banded so there won’t be too
much blood loss. Hey, I did another panel on Art while we were in town. His
penis has grown a whole two centimeters and his hormone count has increased
dramatically. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could ejaculate by the end of the
week.” Perry replied. “Aaron has grown a tiny bit too.”
“Really! I thought he had grown some. It’s a little hard to tell, he moves
around so much. If he climaxes, you think he’ll produce fluids?” I asked.
“Oh, he should produce something eventually. It should be about the same as
your first time. His glands are growing and so is his prostate. His nerves
should develop first, so he’ll get the feelings just like you did when you
first popped a wad. He’ll never produce sperm but he should produce seminal
plasma. Only time will tell, but it looks like he is getting there a lot
faster than I thought. I’m going to suggest an implant so he won’t have to
endure the daily shots. I think he’s ready for a normal load. He might
experience acne if you had it. But that’s normal for 90% of all teen-agers.”
Perry said.
“I didn’t have acne. I had baby smooth skin too long. He doesn’t want body
hair and I promised him he wouldn’t have to grow any if he didn’t want to. Is
the implant going to be a low enough dose that you can regulate that?” I
asked.
“I’ll have to look into that. This is new territory for me too. If he wants to
stay the same as he is without too much growth, then maybe the dailies are a
better choice. Let me do some research and then we’ll talk some more about it.
I’m getting more fries. Want some?” Perry offered.
“No, David has already told me I’ve had enough and he’s guarding the pot.” I
said grinning.
Mac and Steve drove up from the cabin. Frank stayed to help Sam and Mike get
the guests situated. Olin and Mica ran out to meet Steve.
“That had better be the first serving of fries Mister.” Mac said walking up
behind Perry.
“Aw, come on now, I’ll work it off!” Perry complained, grabbing another
handful when Mac took his plate away.
“Well, OK, this time. I’ve seen what you have to work with tonight. There are
20 participants’ altogether and at least 40 spectators. It’s going to be hard
keeping the spectators from wanting to participate.” Mac said.
“If they want to participate with pain, so be it. The only ones getting pain
relief are the participants. Sam and Mike know what to do. I’m sure they will
have the ‘talk’ as usual.” Perry replied.
“It was a surprise seeing Sylar and Percival brought in as party favors. The
syndicate must have really been furious with them. What’s going to happen to
them when this event is over?” Mac asked Perry.
Jim and Jacob and I were listening intently.
“What do you mean, they are being used as party favors?” Jim asked.
“They were delivered and set up on a table. Percy’s crotch looks terrible.
It’s all swollen and bruised. Sylar’s looks fine except that he’s a little
swollen also. There are a couple of syndicate members here tonight as
witnesses. I didn’t talk to either of them but they did speak with Frank and
Steve.” Mac said.
“Yeah, they aren’t too thrilled with Percy’s indiscretion.” Steve said. “They
won’t be in this country after tonight. He wouldn’t say where they were going.
I don’t know if they were allowed to close out their affairs, but he said they
would be leaving from here.”
“I think I would like to see them strapped to a table.” Jacob said. “Think
there might be a way to give Sylar a taste of his own medicine?”
“What did you have in mind?” Perry asked intrigued.
“A hard and dry fuck like he gave the boy.” Jacob said dryly.
“I’m all for that.” Jim added.
“Well, you could be part of the entertainment and leave right after. You do
know that these participants are HIV positive don’t you?” Perry asked.
“I do know that, but I was sort-of counting on Sylar and Percy not being. They
always gave out pain and never took any. I can wear a rubber but Jim can’t.
I’ve never seen one that big.” Jacob said smiling at Jim.
“Well, Percy’s last test was negative and I don’t know anything about Sylar.
He always went to one of my associates. If I had to guess, I’d agree with you
that the likelihood is slim that he’s ever come into contact with the virus.
He likes the little boys too much. I can’t call and find out without raising
flags. No one is supposed to know that they are here. The syndicate wants them
to disappear. It’s something I don’t like but it has to happen. Their fetishes
are not sanctioned. They deserve a prison sentence but they aren’t going to
get one, at least not in this country. They will no doubt, end up as slaves
over-seas.” Perry said ruefully.
“Well, I can go and keep the masses off of your asses and make sure you get
first crack at those two cracks.” Steve said, laughing at his rhyming pun.
“What time are you going down there?” Jim asked.
“About 5, I guess. We’re letting all the boys that want to go come to our
house for Michael’s party, so I can’t stay too long. How long do you think
you’ll need to pop cork?” Steve asked grinning.
“At least 20 minutes.” Jim replied. “I want to be at the party, but I also
want that converted cunt to know who he hurt.”
“Too bad for the other guys. After Jim gets Sylar opened up, he’ll be too
loose to satisfy anyone else.” Jacob said with a snicker.
“I don’t care about that, I want him to bleed like he made Josh and Michael
bleed.” Jim said.
“Well, let’s not get too worked up. We’ll just go down there and make our
entrance and a quick exit.” Steve said, rising to go back into the house.
He and David were going to throw a party to keep the boy’s minds off the event
and Michael’s stitches coming out was as good an excuse as any. David was
inside working on another cake with Isaac and Randy.
“What does Frank do at these events?” I asked Perry.
“Well, he’s basically a policeman. Sometimes things get out of hand. I doubt
anything will happen tonight because of who we’re dealing with, but there have
been a couple of events in the past that got wild and out of control.” Perry
replied. “These participants are doing what they think is necessary, according
to their beliefs, and they are offended by their genitals. They know that
temptation is out there and they don’t want to deal with the possibility of
infecting others any more. They know that their disease is formidable and want
a simpler life in what time they each might have left.” He finished.
“I can understand the notion and the desire to honor a belief but there is new
developments being introduced every day to battle the disease. Some of these
guys could outlive the virus or at least live long enough to get a treatment
cure.” I responded.
“Well, I don’t care what the party-goers are doing, I just want to go down
there and plow Sylar’s field.” Jim said.
“Me three”, said Jacob.
“Well, guys, its Saturday afternoon. Lets do something fun for a while.” Dan
said, holding Mica and Olin on each arm.
“What’d you have in mind? Tossing kids through a hoop?” Matt said jumping up
and grabbing Olin.
Olin screamed and started giggling at being toted around like a toddler.
“Let’s go play kickball out in the pasture.” Dan suggested.
Matt and Mark ran over to get the basketball and Dan started out toward the
pasture with Mica on his massive shoulders. Nearly all the boys went with him.
Art stayed on the deck with Todd. They came over to our table to sit with
Michael and Josh. Aaron ran off to play ball with his brother. Jamie joined us
as Jim got up to go supervise the game. Jacob got up to go see about the party
planning with Steve and David. I watched the boys playing and smiled. James
and Hank were still in their new pants but they had shed their new shirts. I
squeezed Art and put my arm around Todd. He was a little drowsy from the pain
medication but he still wanted to watch the game. I let him lay his head on my
lap. Art got up on the table and sat behind me and put his head on top of
mine, laying his arms on my shoulders. I tickled his legs under my arms. He
giggled and hugged my neck. I lay my head back on his small chest. He kissed
my forehead. I smiled. I could feel his tiny penis bumping my back now and
then. The game lasted longer than we did. We got up and went indoors. Jamie
stayed outside with Josh and Michael. I carried Todd upstairs and put him in
the bed. Art and I lay down on either side of him and dozed off. It was around
5: O’clock in the afternoon when Aaron jumped on the bed waking us. Everyone
was getting ready to go down the road to Steve and Frank’s house.
Down in the Office
“Just lay back and relax bud.” Perry said to Josh. This is going to feel a
little weird but you should not feel any pain.” As he inserted the speculum
into Josh’s ass-hole.
Perry dialed the speculum up to open Josh’s ass-hole as wide as he could get
it. He then took a light and looked into the boy’s rectum.
“Ah yes, you do have a small tear. We can deal with that right quick.” Perry
said.
“Will I feel it?” Josh asked anxiously.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have the same nerve endings inside your colon that you
do on the outside. I’m using catgut and it will just disintegrate when it’s no
longer needed. You’ll never feel it. Here, Michael, want to see the inside of
Josh?” Perry asked.
Michael bent down over Perry’s shoulder and peered in the scope.
“Ooh, weird.” Michael said in awe. “It sure is pink. Hey Josh, you got a
pussy!” he laughed.
“It is a lot like one on the inside but your colon doesn’t have the muscle
structure like a pussy has.” Perry laughed. “Look here, that’s where his
prostate is. See how it shows up when you push the wall a little bit?”
Perry started rubbing the little bump and Josh started moaning. Perry looked
up at Josh’s closed eyes and winked at Michael. He handed the probe to Michael
and stood back to watch. Michael scooted the stool up close and rubbed Josh’s
prostate with the probe. He kept up the motions until Josh orgasmed. It was so
tickling to Michael that he had to laugh. Josh looked up and saw him.
“What are you doing?” Josh asked, amazed and breathless.
“Playing”, Michael giggled.
“Do it again!” Josh begged.
“I think that’s enough for now.” Perry said amused. “You guys have a party to
attend.”
He took the speculum out of Josh and cleaned it off. Michael helped Josh off
the exam table. He walked a bit unsteady but giggled with Michael into the
kitchen. Perry smiled and shook his head. Put the speculum in the autoclave
and followed them. Steve, Jim and Jacob were getting up from the table to go
outside when Perry walked in.
“We’re going to the cabin now.” Steve said. “When are you going to show up?”
“I’ll head down there in a minute. Why don’t you guys go watch some of the
action until I get there? Let the Peabody’s know who you are but don’t try
anything yet. I need to talk to a couple of guys first.” Perry advised.
Dan, Matt and Mark were out on the deck when they got outside.
“Hey, are you guys really going to the cabin?” Mark asked.
“Yep, want to go?” Jim replied.
“Sure, I want to watch you corn-hole Sylar.” Mark said. “Dan’s curiosity is
killing him. He wants to go too but he’s scared he might get fucked!”
“Aw, ain’t nobody going to try anything with this big slab of beef!” Jim said
slapping Dan on the back, making him wince. “Come on, we’ll protect your
virgin butt. We want to see you loose that cherry but it has to be done right,
and that means Allan has to be here!” Jim laughed.
“Jeez, you guys. Is nothing sacred?” Dan complained.
To the Cabin
On the way past the stables, Steve got an idea.
“Hey guys, hold up. I need to get something from the barn.” Steve said as he
trotted off into the tack room.
He came back with a rolled up breeding-sleeve.
“What’s that?” asked Jacob.
“It’s a condom for Jim.” Steve replied, handing it to Jacob for inspection.
“Damn, where’d you find such a big rubber?” Jacob asked.
“It’s not really a rubber. It’s a vinylized plastic breeding-sleeve for
horses. It’s what the Vet collects stallion sperm in.” Steve said.
“Well, I’ll be. It looks like it is a little big. How would he keep it on?”
Jacob asked.
“We’ll try it on first then see about that.” Steve winked.
Jim was grinning at Jacob’s fascination with the breeding device. He took it
and laid it up against his swinging log.
“It looks like it might fit if you get me really hard.” Jim joked.
“You’re big alright but not that big. I’ve seen a stallion at full mast and
it’s a lot bigger than you are.” Jacob said, poking Jim’s ribs.
Dan asked to see it and said he’d have to eat a ton of fertilizer to get into
it. The rest of the men laughed. Dan’s little boner was sticking straight up
at the thought. Matt slapped it and ran. Dan ran after him and tossed him over
his massive shoulder when he tackled him. He carried Matt, kicking and
laughing the rest of the way to the cabin. Mark jumped up on Dan’s back and
climbed up on his shoulders. Dan walked over to one of the cabin windows and
gasped. There was a guy standing behind a bar set up to hold the guillotine.
He was banded, balls and dick. The entire crowd was cheering him on. He stuck
his balls in the device and pulled the rope. His balls tumbled down a little
chute into a wash tub set on the plastic covered floor. He stepped back and
held his banded dick up and looked at his newly vacated crotch. His dick was
dark from lack of blood supply. He let it fall and rejoined the crowd. Sam was
spinning the roulette wheel and another guy ran up to the makeshift bar. He
waited to be told what he’d drawn and put his dick in the guillotine. He
pulled the rope and sliced his dick off at the base. He stepped back and
turned to let everyone see his stub. Mike waved to him and he walked over to
allow Mike to put a caustic powder on the stump. Perry came up behind Dan and
tickled Mark’s ass, scaring both of them.
“Come on in and let’s introduce you to the crowd, Jim. Dan, you stay out here
with Mark. Matt I need you for a second. I need to clarify something with one
of the investors and he’s going to want to talk to you after this night is
over, just to warn you ahead of time. Jacob, coming?” Perry asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Jacob said.
They walked into the cabin and gasps could be heard from every corner. The
crowd thought there were some big dicks swinging until they saw Jim. Perry
stopped Jim and Jacob by the door and walked up to a man in a three-piece
suit. He was calling out the numbers of the participants and telling Sam when
to spin the wheel. Perry leaned down to talk to him briefly. The man put his
hand on Perry’s hip as he listened. When Perry stood up, the man looked up at
him, and stroked Perry’s penis, smiling and nodded his head. He then told the
audience that they were in for a special treat. He told all the participants
to take a break and find a chair.
Perry went over to Mike and nodded to Sam to come over. He spoke to them
briefly and they came up to Jim and Jacob. Mike led Jim to Sylar’s end of the
table and Sam led Jacob to Percival’s end. Perry got behind Jim and stroked
his ass with his hand and Mike massaged his massive penis. When it started to
rise, Mike licked it. Perry whispered ‘sweet-nothings’ encouragement in Jim’s
ear. Soon Jim was as hard as he could get. His penis looked like an ordinary
man’s forearm with a balled-up fist covered in skin. Perry led him into
Sylar’s vision. Sylar saw Jim’s long, thick dick and moaned in terror. He was
gagged, so he could not scream. Steve stepped forward and unrolled the
breeding-sleeve and the crowd cheered. Steve slid the sleeve over Jim’s
erection and it was a close fit, but not snug enough to stay on by itself.
Steve pulled it on over Jim’s balls and tied it with a piece of cord, making
Jim a sort-of cock ring in the process. Jim swung it back and forth a couple
of times and positioned the tip of his penis at Sylar’s sphincter. He bumped
the man a couple of times like he was taking ‘practice runs’ at the entrance.
All of a sudden, Jim shoved himself into Sylar with such force; he lifted
Sylar off the table a little bit. Sylar was screaming into his gag. Jim
reached out and grabbed the man’s hips and started thrusting his log in and
out with as much force as he could muster. The crowd could see the blood on
Jim’s makeshift condom with each pass. They were cheering again. It took Jim a
full 16 minutes to climax, but he kept his pumping up another 3 minutes with
help from Jacob. Sylar had passed out 10 minutes ago.
Meanwhile on Percival’s end of the table, Jacob had been given the royal
treatment by Sam and had gotten as hard as he could. Sam put a rubber on
Jacob’s uncut penis and it looked like a 10-inch piece of farm sausage ready
to cook. Jacob quickly stuffed his dick in Percival and started a hard hump on
the old man. He didn’t like the man for what he did to Larry and Todd and that
was all. He didn’t know this man and had no real animosity toward him except
that he was there to dish out farm justice to him. Percival was crying into
his gag and sobbed all through his ass beating. Jacob climaxed after only 8
minutes. He pulled out, removed his condom, stuffed it in Percival’s ass-hole,
and invited the crowd to entertain themselves in the old man. Several men
jumped up to take over where Jacob left off. None of them bothered to put on a
condom. Jacob went to the other end of the table to admire Jim’s pounding on
Sylar’s limp body. He grimaced at the blood Jim was pumping out of the guy but
he didn’t stop looking. The cheering was going to Jim’s and his heads. Jacob
started to get another erection. He looked down at it and grinned at Jim. Jim
was trying to concentrate but he smiled at Jacob. When he climaxed, he slowed
down his forceful pounding and allowed Jacob to enter his anus. He let Jacob
do the pounding for both of them. Jim had climaxed into the sleeve and kept up
his humping from Jacob’s thrusting until he went flaccid. Jacob had another
dry climax. The crowd cheering and the atmosphere were too much. He was spent.
He pulled out of Jim and allowed Jim to pull out of Sylar. Jacob took the
bloody sleeve off of Jim and threw it on Sylar’s back. Then they took a bow.
The man in the three-piece suit ran up to shake their hands and invite them to
the next gathering. They courteously declined, explaining why they had to
attend this event. He nodded and thanked them for their ‘service’, then turned
to the crowd and asked for another round of applause.
Perry ushered Jim and Jacob outside to more cheering from Dan and Mark. Matt
stayed inside to talk to the ‘suits’. He came out a little while later and
slapped Jim on the back.
“You guys were a hit!” Matt exclaimed. “They actually want me to talk you into
performing again. They’ll pay you very well if you are interested.”
“I don’t think so.” Said Jim.
“It was fun but I don’t think it’s my cup of tea.” Jacob said, leaning on Jim.
“All these guys are getting their goods cut off?” Dan asked.
“Yep, every one of them that’s naked.” Mark said. “Stick around a while and
you might see some of the one’s that are dressed get cut too.” He smiled. “It
happens a lot. They get into such a frenzy and get carried away.”
“Ooh, I don’t like the sound of that. I hate my dick but I wouldn’t cut it off
like that.” Dan said with a grimace.
“Well, let’s watch some more and walk back. Perry will be out here all night
patching up guys. Frank is staying but I have a party to get to. Lord knows
what Mica and Olin are up to. They’ll be teaching everybody how to get machine
fucked if I don’t get back.” Steve said laughing.
“I want to see those machines and so does Allan.” Dan said grinning. “I hope
he’s home by now. It’s getting pretty dark.”
“Matt rode one of those things last night. It was a trip watching him get
pounded.” Mark said.
“Yeah, it was a trip alright. I could go for it again. After it gets going,
you feel like you are floating and then you pop a wad after a while.” Matt
said smiling. “Olin rode my dick last night but I’d like to see what would
happen if I just waited on the machine. It’s kind of nice to get off without
having to do anything but lie there. Don’t get me wrong, I love to fuck. It’s
just a nice diversion.”
“Hey, look, there’s a guy getting tied to the cross.” Mark exclaimed.
“Your fascination with that cross is weird boy.” Matt said, looking into the
window. “Holy shit! He’s getting carved. I can’t watch that again.” He said
stepping away.
The man tied to the cross wasn’t one of the participants and he wasn’t banded.
One of the dressed spectators was scraping his bush with a very sharp knife
and wiping his hair on his leg. When the spectator had cleaned as much of the
man’s hair off as he could. He held up his dick and waited for the crowd to
start clapping. He pulled the man’s dick out and started cutting back and
forth at the base of the guy’s dick. Blood was going everywhere. The ‘victim’
guy was screaming and bucking as much as he could in his bonds. His legs were
spread and his arms were tied out and he was tied around the waist. He could
do nothing but allow his mutilation to happen. The spectator cut down into the
man’s penis at the pelvic bone and was cutting his scrotum. He reached in and
grabbed his nuts and cut them along with the scrotum. He cut on each side of
the penis while he pulled it away from the man’s body. When he had the whole
thing free, he cut the guy’s urethra and held the guy’s entire genitals up in
the air. The man’s nuts fell out of the scrotal skin and hit the floor. The
crowd cheered. The ‘victim’ participant fainted. Perry rushed over to stop the
man’s bleeding. Sam and Mike were untying him. They got him to a plastic
covered cot and patched him up. Dan watched the whole scene. Mark watched Dan.
Dan had an orgasm but was so enthralled, he barely noticed. Mark rubbed his
belly and brought him back to earth.
“That was the wildest thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think anyone would or
could do that.” Dan exclaimed.
“Like I told you, sometimes the spectators get carried away.” Mark said.
Allan had come home and the boys were loading up in Jim’s van. They told him
that Dan went down to the cabin. He took off after getting undressed. It was
very dark but the lights of the cabin and the bonfire were enough to guide his
steps along the dark lane. He got to the cabin just as the guy on the cross
was being taken down. He heard Dan say that what they had seen through the
window was ‘wild’. He wanted to talk to Dan about something.
“BOO!” Allan cried as he snuck up on Dan and Mark. “What are you doing down
here?”
“SHIT! You scared me to death!” Dan exclaimed. “We came down to watch these
two fuck Sylar and Percival.” Dan explained, talking about Jim and Jacob who
were standing there laughing about Allan’s surprise.
“So, you think it’s hot to see a guy get nutted?” Allan asked.
“I don’t know about ‘hot’ but we just watched a guy get his entire package cut
out without pain killers.” Dan exclaimed. “Look through the window here.
They’re about to start the guillotine thing again.”
Allan stood by Dan and pushed Mark out of the way. Mark jumped up on Dan’s
back and climbed up on his massive shoulders again. He was rubbing his nub on
the back of Dan’s neck. Dan let Allan stand in front of him so he could see
better. Matt stepped over beside them and leaned into Dan’s shoulder so Mark
could touch him. Jim and Jacob started the walk back with Steve.
The three-piece suit called another man to the guillotine. He ran up and
waited for the wheel to spin. When it stopped, he looked over at it and
grinned. He put his dick and balls in the slot and pulled the rope. His penis
and balls hit the wash tub together. He stood back and admired his vacant
groin being held together with two tiny green bands, and then walked over to
the cots for Perry to tend to his new wound. Allan was erect as he could get.
Dan was holding him by his waist and let his hand drop to Allan’s tiny woody.
Allan climaxed. Dan was hard again too. He started rubbing his little woody in
Allan’s ass-crack. He didn’t have to rub much before he shot off again. They
both giggled. Dan hugged Allan and kissed his cheek. Allan turned around and
kissed Dan hard on the mouth. Mark started giggling. Allan pushed him backward
and Matt had to catch him. They wrestled around some and started the walk
back.
At the House
It was close to 6: O’clock when Taylor Lott arrived at the house. He parked
his dad’s pickup and got out. He is a striking boy of six feet with a cute-boy
face with sandy hair and hazel eyes. He was the type that stands out in a
crowd and he’s a good-looking kid. He walked over to the fence and started
walking through the gate when Marty was bringing a box of party supplies out
to put in Mac’s car. Taylor froze. He saw Marty’s vacant groin with those bar
bell studs in it. Marty saw him and smiled at him. He saw Taylor’s expression
but didn’t stop.
“Hello, are you Taylor?” Marty asked, having heard James and Hank talk about
their newest conquest.
“Ah, yeah, how’d you know?” Taylor asked surprised.
“You’re famous dude. Go on over to the deck. James and Hank are over by the
fire pit.” Marty said, walking on out to Mac’s car.
Taylor went on up to the deck and as he put his boot on the steps, James saw
him.
“Hey, you made it!” James called out.
Taylor didn’t know everyone would be naked. It surprised him.
“Hey”, Taylor said a little nervous. “You guy’s aren’t wearing any clothes.”
“We never wear anything when we’re at home.” Hank said. “You didn’t know we
were nudist. I’m sorry for not mentioning that. I hope it doesn’t bother you
too much.”
“I think I’ll manage. Hey, you guy’s weren’t the only one’s hurt, were you?”
Taylor asked, looking around at all the altered boys and men.
“Yeah there were more than us, but there are some out here that chose to get
fixed.” James said.
“Come on, we want to introduce you to everyone.” Hank said grabbing the boy’s
arm.
Taylor allowed himself to be dragged around to meet the rest of the ‘gang’,
looking at everyone’s crotch before looking at their faces. No one minded. He
is a cute kid and all the boys who were introduced to him were looking first
at his crotch too. He got to Mac and was really bug-eyed. Mac just smiled.
Taylor had seen Mac in his family’s store for years and never once imagined
him naked. Mac’s vacant crotch was enough to make him wet his pants,
literally. He had a boner since he met Marty, now he unloaded meeting Mac.
“Nice of you to join us, Taylor. We’re getting ready for a party. Would you
like to join us or does James and Hank have other plans?” Mac asked looking
sternly at James and Hank.
“We’re going to the party.” Hank said, getting a knowing smile from Mac as
though he knew better not to go. “We might want to duck out early though.”
Hank smiled.
“Well, we’ll be leaving in a minute. Taylor, you are welcome to get more
comfortable if you want to.” Mac encouraged, turning to finish gathering
supplies.
“Ah…Does he mean get naked?” Taylor asked James and Hank.
“Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun. Nobody here cares, trust us.” Hank replied.
“Yeah, come on up to our room. You can leave your things in there.” James
said, grabbing Taylor’s arm and pulling him toward the house.
They got him up to the attic and stripped his clothes off like he was a new
present and the wrapping paper had no value. Hank pushed the boy down on the
bed and fell on his 5-inch erection. James flopped on the bed beside them and
leaned in to kiss Taylor. Taylor was a bit apprehensive about getting kissed
by another guy but James persisted. He met Taylor’s mouth and quickly kissed
him. Taylor looked like he was amused and embarrassed at the same time. James
kissed him again, and he started snickering.
“Your chin fuzz tickles.” Taylor said.
James went to his ear and licked it. Taylor laughed and squirmed. He was
giggling at having his dick sucked and at getting unaccustomed attention. He
has older brothers but none of them had ever gotten this close to him. All
three had changed his diapers when he was little because he was the baby by
several years. His oldest brother was almost a father figure to him, having
graduated high school when he was born. His brother, that was closest to him
in age, had shown him about masturbation but he was off in college now. Taylor
was the only child left at home. His father was too old to want much to do
with him and simply said ‘be careful’ when he asked permission to visit the
farm. When he arrived, he didn’t think he would be naked on a bed with two
good-looking guys playing with his body.
Hank was sucking his pecker like it was the last one on earth and he climaxed.
He almost bit James’s lip. It was only his second blowjob. James looked at
Hank when he finally came up for air and they smiled at each other. Taylor had
his eyes closed. James ran his hands over the naked boy’s body. His penis was
shrinking and his balls were relaxing. Hank ran his hands up and down Taylor’s
thighs and licked his balls. James wiggled his limp penis. Taylor smiled and
opened his eyes.
“I think that’s it for a while guys. Maybe I can get up and not be so
embarrassed now.” Taylor said.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Getting a boner is a bonus around
here!” Hank said laughing.
“I like it to stay small. I get self conscious when I get hard.” Taylor said
with a grimace.
“Well, you’re not the only one who’s ever thought that.” Hank said.
“Yeah, getting hard is a natural thing. No one out here is going to tease you
about it. You might get a lot more attention when it’s hard but that’s about
it.” James said smiling. “I don’t see anything wrong with you. You’re about as
cute as a boy can get without being a girl.”
“Yeah, my brother’s tease me all the time about how pretty I am.” Taylor said
rolling his eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to put up with it but I’m the baby.”
“Well, you’ll grow up to be a stunning man in a few years, so don’t fret about
being cute now.” James said, tweaking his nose.
Taylor smiled at his two new friends. James and Hank got up off the bed and
pulled Taylor up. He started to gather his clothes and James held his hand.
“Leave them here. Ain’t nobody going to mess with them. You don’t need them
when you are with us.” James said reassuringly.
“Are you guys going to that party naked?” Taylor asked in shock.
“Sure, we can go all the way out to the highway naked and it don’t matter.
This place is huge. The house we are going to is down at the end of the road.
You passed it on the way in. They come and go naked and they’re here all the
time.” Hank said. “Besides, it’s too dark for anyone to see much.”
They went down to the deck and everyone was piling into Jim’s van, Mac’s car
and Steve’s convertible. Steve had a few boys in the back of their truck and
asked me to drive it. Jamie stayed at the house. Dan and Allan had not
returned. We told Jamie to tell them to come if they wanted to. We told him he
was welcome but he wanted to call his best friend Barry and check on things.
Mark and Matt were still off in the woods but Jim said they would be coming
later.
“You guys were about to be left behind.” Mac called, when James and Hank
brought Taylor outside. “Load up and let’s go party!”
They all arrived at Steve’s house in a few minutes. Olin and Mica ran to open
the door. Frank’s old cat ran off into the bushes, still not accustomed to the
boys being there.
“I see Fluffy hasn’t accepted her new family members yet.” Mac said to Steve
having noticed the cat running for her life.
“She’ll come back when she’s hungry. She’s too old, lazy and fat to live in
the woods.” Steve said smiling.
Taylor got a good look at all the boys inside the house with all the lights on
and they all got a good look at him. He was remarkably similar to Grayson in
body characteristics but his face was shaped differently although equally
beautiful. His penis was more like Olin’s and Mica’s. He has smooth skin
except for his small pubic patch. He is an inch shorter than Grayson. James
and Hank stood him back to back with Grayson and Taylor got an erection from
rubbing his ass against Grayson’s. His face turned red but no one seemed to
notice. Hank smiled at him when he turned his embarrassed gaze to Hank’s eyes.
“Relax dude. Told ya’, nobody cares.” Hank said, slapping Taylor’s erection,
making it bobble side-to-side.
Taylor snickered and bumped Grayson’s ass with his. Grayson turned around and
looked into Taylor’s eyes. Taylor melted. He smiled. Taylor regained his
senses and picked up Grayson’s long penis. He held it up to his groin and
backed up to see how far it was.
“Dang, that’s the longest thing I’ve ever seen!” Taylor exclaimed, flopping it
around by its tip like it was a tangled garden hose.
“Yeah, I hear that a lot. It’s not the longest one out here though. Look over
there to that really big man in the corner. Wait ‘til he turns around. He’s
our coach. He’s as big as some of the horses on the farm.” Grayson said.
Jim finally turned around to help Steve set a table up and Taylor gasped. He
looked at Grayson again with an open mouth. They all laughed at him.
“Puts thing into perspective don’t it?” asked James.
“I guess I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. I always thought mine
got too big.” Taylor said.
“Nah, your dick is just about the perfect size…not too big and not too small.
It’s ‘party-sized’. Hank said laughing, tackling him to the couch.
Olin and Mica ran over and jumped on the couch with them. Josh and Michael
walked over to watch Hank and James wrestle Olin and Mica. Taylor sat there
beside them grinning in an amused way. His brothers had horse-played around
him when he was very small and had even used him as part of their games by
tossing him back and forth between them until their mother stopped them. They
had never wrestled with him naked before. He was enthralled by all the natural
attitudes toward such open nudity. After a while, he relaxed and didn’t notice
any more. Art and Aaron came over to be introduced to Taylor. Taylor was
dumbfounded by Art’s physical beauty and cherub sweetness. He was almost as
equally befuddled by Aaron’s appearance. James noticed and looked at Hank. Art
and Aaron went back over to Todd.
“See, you aren’t alone in the pretty department. They are your age. You may
have had classes at school with them.” James said.
“Damn, I though they were little kids. What school do you guys all go to?”
Taylor wanted to know.
“We used to go to County but we’re home schooled now. We start Monday. Our
teacher isn’t here, but he’ll be here later. That big guy, Jim, he was our
swim coach at County. He won’t be teaching us anymore but he will be living
out here from now on. He and Jacob, the guy standing beside him, are getting
married and building a house next to this one.” James said.
“Well, I don’t go to the County school. I go to the private school at our
church. I’ve never gone to public school. All my brothers did, but I didn’t.
My mom wanted me to be ‘smarter’.” Taylor said rolling his eyes.
“What grade level are you at?” Hank wanted to know.
“I’m a sophomore.” Taylor replied.
“So are we, but we’re a little behind.” James said a bit embarrassed. “I don’t
read good and Mister dummy here don’t count good.” He said gabbing Hank and
pulling him into an embrace.
“You said those guys are getting ‘married’?” Taylor asked.
“Yes, next week sometime as far as I know. I ain’t heard exactly.” James said.
“I’ve heard of two guys getting married before and wondered what it might be
like, but all I ever hear is the bad stuff the church has to say about it. I
was taught that being a homosexual is a sin.” Taylor said.
“I grew up with that same thing. My Granny was always preaching at me. I don’t
have to listen to that any more. Mac makes me call her and let her know how
I’m doing, but she don’t really care. I think she wrote me off years ago. When
he gets our wedding planned, I might call her and invite her just to be mean.
I’ll send her a picture at any rate.” Hank said.
“You guys are getting married?” Taylor exclaimed.
“Yes we are. Want to come?” James said smiling.
“We’ve been friends for years and he asked me last Saturday.” Hank said
beaming.
“Wow. I think I might like that. Call me and let me know when.” Taylor said.
Randy and Isaac came over and sat on the floor in front of James and Hank as
though they weren’t there and started playing with the Gameboy. Olin and Mica
scooted off the couch on either side of them to give them pointers. Steve came
over to set up additional controls so 4 could play and reminded Olin and Mica
to share. Marty came over to sit on the back of the couch with Grayson,
handing him a large piece of cake.
“Hey, I can’t eat all this. Are you trying to get me fat?” Grayson asked,
laughing.
“I thought we could share it.” Marty said smiling, holding up an extra fork.
Grayson smiled and fed Marty a bite of cake. Art and Aaron were serving
everyone and brought plates around to the couch. Art handed a plate to Taylor
and smiled at him shyly. Taylor smiled back as he took it. Todd came over to
sit in the big easy chair next to the couch and Aaron sat on the armrest. Art
walked over there after delivering the plates and sat on the other side.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such a small dick before.” Taylor
said to James in a hushed voice.
“He was born without balls. He’s David’s son, the guy without genitals over
there talking to Mac. Artie, the guy talking to Jim and Jacob, is his brother.
Artie and David are lovers. They just found out about Art last week. 8 boys
here were adopted this week. Hank and me were taken in but we are too old to
adopt. Mac said we could stay as long as we need to. I don’t ever plan to
leave.” James said. “See those two guys over there at the table? They are
Larry and Ed. They are brothers. The two guys that are sitting on their laps
are their lovers, Billy and Brewer. Todd here, with the cast on, is their
cousin. They are Mac’s nephews. Olin and Mica, these two with the black hair,
were adopted by Steve and Frank. Steve is the guy that set up the Gameboy.
Frank is off at another party with Doc Walker, Mac’s lover. You probably won’t
meet them tonight, unless you spend the night.”
“Well, I won’t be doing that. I have to be at church tomorrow. My mom is real
strict about church. I have to be home by midnight or my dad will take away
the truck.” Taylor said.
“Well, we’ll just have to make the most of this evening then.” James said,
groping Taylor’s balls and thumbing his flaccid penis.
Dan and Allan walked into the house with Mark and Matt behind them.
“Hey, how was the party?” David asked.
“It was pretty wild.” Dan said like he still could not believe what he saw.
Allan came over to the chair that was occupied by Art, Todd and Aaron. He
swooped down and gathered up Todd in his arms and sat down causing the
giggling Art and Aaron to fall into him.
“How’s the arm cutie-pie.” Allan asked Todd.
“It don’t hurt no more.” Todd said a little sleepily.
“Who is this fine young man?” Allan said to Taylor, extending his hand around
Art.
“Taylor, sir.” Taylor said taking his hand, looking at Allan’s tiny genitals.
Allan noticed but just smiled at the boy. He didn’t care about his size any
more. Other people would just have to find a way around their own particular
embarrassment.
“We met him at the feed store today.” James said.
“Oh, so this is the one you guys were talking about. He is about as cute as
you said he was.” Allan said smiling at James.
“You were telling everyone about what happened at the store?” Taylor asked
horrified.
“No, we just said we had met a really cute kid and that you were coming over.”
Hank spoke up quickly, looking at Allan sternly.
Allan smiled and had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
“They were just excited about having met you bud. I wouldn’t blame them for
being smitten enough to want to share that. You ARE a cute kid. I know your
brother, Travis. We went to school together. What’s he up to these days?”
Allan asked.
“He still works at the store. He got married a few years ago. He has 4 kids
already and another one on the way. My sister-in-law had a little boy when
they got married and he’s raising him too.” Taylor replied courteously.
“Wow, 6 kids. Well, with your family’s looks, it would be a shame not to have
kids.” Allan said a bit ruefully. “Dan, the big guy behind me, went to school
with him too.” Allan said leaning back to get a kiss from Dan.
Taylor looked a bit amused at seeing Allan and Dan kiss. He was still getting
used to seeing such displays. Hank and James had both kissed him and it was
nice. Just thinking about it caused him to become erect again. He looked down
at his crotch but just sighed. Nobody seemed to notice. He was the only one
who thought getting an erection was a bad thing. He looked around at all the
altered genitalia and wondered why. He leaned forward to see Randy’s closed-
off crotch. James noticed his interest. He reached out and pulled Randy up
into his lap.
“Hey, I’m playing here!” Randy exclaimed.
“Let Olin play for you a while. Spread your legs so Taylor can see what you
have done to your junk.” James instructed.
Randy complied grudgingly but smiled at the attention.
“Randy belongs to this tow-head here.” James said tussling Isaac’s hair.
Isaac waved him away, trying to concentrate on his game with Mica.
“Randy doesn’t like his dick to get hard and he doesn’t like to touch it. He
got Doc Walker to close him up so he can’t just touch it without going to a
lot of trouble.” James said.
“Wow. I think that looks so cool.” Taylor said. “Can I touch it?”
“I don’t care, go ahead.” Randy said.
Taylor ran his fingers over the laces and eyelets pulling Randy’s crotch
together like a sneaker.
“How does that feel?” Taylor asked.
“I like it, it feels like it’s supposed to, I guess. I can still feel
everything I always felt except I can’t just reach down and jerk. I would
rather get fucked to get off. It feels better than just jerking it.” Randy
said.
Taylor started leaking. He hadn’t counted on that happening just from touching
another boy. He tried to ignore it but all of a sudden, he shot a small rope
of semen up into the air.
“Good thing this couch is vinyl.” Hank said laughing.
Taylor was embarrassed but the other boys weren’t laughing at him, they were
laughing with him. James leaned over him and licked his jism off his belly and
took a napkin and wiped the couch.
“Don’t worry about it. This couch has seen a lot of action over the years.”
Steve said, having looked over at the giggling boys and noticing why. “Mark,
why don’t you show some of these boys around.” He said nodding toward the
‘shop’.
Matt was all for that. He got up, almost dumping Mark out of his lap, and
pulled him to his feet. Olin and Mica didn’t bother to go in with them. Their
minds were on the game. Getting castrated allowed them to concentrate for long
periods. Steve smiled. The boys sat there transfixed to the TV screen, cross-
legged with their small flaccid penises wadded up like little buttons. Just
days ago, they were walking around with 5-inch permanent erections, drooling
jism all day, and bouncing off the walls. Grayson and Marty went into the
‘shop’ behind Matt and Mark. Mark was attaching a rather large dildo to one of
the machines when James and Hank walked in followed by the timid Taylor. Dan
and Allan came in behind them. Dan was amazed at all the sex toys in the room.
Allan was curious about how the machines worked. Mark got Matt into place and
slowly worked the large dildo into his anus. Matt had a slight grimace on his
face but after a few seconds, he nodded to Mark to start it up. After a few
minutes of machine motion, Matt put his hands behind his head and closed his
eyes to enjoy the internal massage. Randy and Isaac came into the room and
settled on one of the old easy chairs. Isaac was aroused and Randy wanted to
use his dick for a while. Taylor was torn between looking at Matt getting
machine-fucked and Randy getting a natural fuck. Allan lay down on the empty
bench and Mark found a dildo that suited him. Allan was giddy about his
attempts to match him to the right size. Dan thought it was funny that Mark
kept eyeing the dildos to his small dick. He stood behind Allan’s head and
rubbed his face. He started kissing him when Mark flipped the switch. Allan
gasped and grabbed the side of the bench. His feet hit the floor and Mark hit
the off switch. Mark suggested that Allan might want to lie on his belly since
this was his first time. He pulled the dildo out and Allan turned over. He lay
on his tiny dick and let his feet hit the floor. He could raise his ass and
move it around a little if he felt like it. Allan turned his head toward Dan
and they kissed again. Dan nodded to Mark and he flipped the switch again.
Allan was floating in seconds.
“Looks like you like that contraption.” Dan said.
“I feel like I’m in constant orgasm.” Allan said in gasps.
Grayson sat in the chair next to Isaac and Randy and Marty settled on
Grayson’s long pole. Taylor was amazed at Marty’s ability to take the whole
thing. He was getting aroused yet again! Hank noticed it and turned to offer
Taylor his ass. Taylor inexperiencedly shoved himself into Hank too fast.
“Whew, take it easy kid. You need some lube it you are going to go fast.” Hank
cried.
James helped Hank up and grabbed some lube off the shelf and squirted some on
his hand. He reached out and rubbed it over Taylor’s penis. He shot his wad at
the attention. James smiled and giggled. Taylor was red-faced but he didn’t go
down. Hank bent over again and Taylor entered him slowly this time. Mark,
having his lover busy on a machine, volunteered his ass to James. James rubbed
some of the lube on himself and entered Marks awaiting ass. Taylor didn’t know
about pleasing another. All he knew was that he was fucking someone and it
felt good. He shot another wad and went flaccid almost immediately. His
flaccid penis popped out of Hank and Hank stood up. He turned to see the kid
looking bewildered.
“What’s wrong?” Hank asked.
“Nothing, it felt good, but I think I like it better when you did me.” Taylor
said.
“I know what you mean. I like to get fucked more than I like to fuck. Come
over here and lie down on the table.” Hank said.
They went to the table and he helped Taylor to position himself on his back.
He grabbed a dildo about the same size as his dick and lubed it up. He helped
Taylor to learn how to hunt for his prostate and explained why it felt so
good. He started a slow motion on his prostate and soon Taylor was semi-hard
again. He was moaning and breathing hard. He climaxed again but it was just a
little clear drop.
“See how good that feels?” Hank asked.
“Do it again.” Taylor demanded.
Hank just laughed and slowly inserted the instrument into the boy’s relaxed
ass. He kept the slow motions up until James and Mark walked over, having
finished their tryst. Josh and Michael came into the room and David and I
followed. Jim and Jacob stood in the doorway surveying the scene. Allan was in
a state of bliss and Dan was just standing over him smiling. Matt had been on
the machine for nearly 30 minutes. Mark walked back over to him to stop the
machine and ask him if he was OK.
“Please don’t stop it.” Matt begged.
“You’ve got a quart of cum on your stomach, don’t you think that’s about
enough?” Mark asked laughing.
Art and Aaron squeezed in the door between Jim and Jacob. Their eyes got big
as saucers. Aaron went over to stand beside Dan and Art came over to stand
beside David. Dan reached over and turned off Allan’s machine. Allan was too
weak to resist. Dan had to help him stand up. Art begged to try it but Aaron
didn’t want him to. Aaron was afraid he would like the machine more than him,
judging the expressions he saw on Allan and Matt’s faces. I reached out and
grabbed the cherub and said he was too little. I did try to explain the
effects it might have on his ‘love-life’ but I’m not sure he understood it.
Aaron didn’t want things to change but didn’t know how to express it either.
Aaron’s little dick was all he needed as far as I was concerned but I had to
let David take over. He took them back out of the room to be with Todd. I
stayed a while longer to watch Dan try it. He didn’t last more than a few
minutes with a very thin and short dildo before he popped. He said that was it
and Mark stopped the machine. He was a bit embarrassed but got up to go sit by
Allan. Larry and Ed brought Brewer and Billy into the room but wouldn’t go
near the machine. They sat on the side of the table Taylor was lying on and
watched Olin and Randy take Matt and Dan’s places. Mica came in too but his
groin was too sore to try anything as severe as the machines. Steve came in
and sat down and held Mica. They watched as Olin rolled his eyes back from the
massage. He lasted nearly 15 minutes and got a mild erection from the dildo.
Randy was in his ‘heavenly state’ and Isaac was getting amused and aroused
from watching. Hank stopped his hand-fucking Taylor and helped him to sit up
on the edge of the table. He stood by his side and let him rest his head on
his shoulder. Marty and Grayson were finished with their tryst but Marty was
still riding Grayson’s pole. They were just enjoying their special connection
and the scene going on around them. It was 10: O’clock before anyone noticed.
Frank came home and entered the room. It was the most people he’d ever seen in
his ‘shop’. He came over to sit by Steve and took Mica into his lap. Mark was
helping Olin off the bench.
“How did you get down here?” Steve asked.
“I took Artie’s car. He left the keys out for me just in case I needed
something to drive.” Frank said. “He and David are about to leave if you want
to say something to them.”
Steve got up and went back into the living room.
“What time is it Frank?” James asked.
“Hair past 10.” Frank replied.
“I’ve got to go!” said Taylor, a bit excited.
“Come on, we need to get back to the farm.” James said. “It’s almost an hour’s
drive and you still need to get dressed.”
Dan noticed and tossed his keys to James.
“I don’t know if I can drive a stick.” James said.
“Give them here, I can.” Taylor said. They raced out the door after saying
thank you to Steve for the ‘party’.
They got into Dan’s small pickup and raced back to the farm. David and I
followed with Aaron, Art and Todd. It wasn’t long before we got to the farm.
We pulled in while Taylor was pulling his pickup out. He waved at us going by.
James and Hank were standing on the steps looking after him, worried about him
making it home on time.
“It’s only 40 miles boy’s. He’ll be home around 11. He got dressed before he
left didn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes, but he almost didn’t. We had to remind him. He left his keys in the
truck and his clothes on our bed.” Hank said smiling.
We took our boys inside and put them to bed. Jamie was watching TV in our room
when we got there. He got up and went downstairs even though we told him it
was fine, the boys wouldn’t mind. The rest of the boys came in a little while
later. Dan and Allan rode with Mac, Randy and Isaac. Jim and Jacob brought
Grayson, Marty, Larry, Ed, Billy and Brewer with their two boys in the van.
Mark and Matt stayed with Steve and Frank.
It wasn’t too long before Perry came home. David and I were having a cup of
coffee with Dan when he walked in. Allan was in the shower. Jim and Jacob came
downstairs after seeing to Josh. Mac came down to greet him.
“Everything go OK down there?” Mac asked.
“Yes, Mike and Sam are staying with the few who are staying the night or are
being picked up in the morning. Most of the spectators left an hour ago.”
Perry said.
“We saw several cars go by while we were down at Frank’s.” I said.
“What happened to the Peabody’s?” asked Jim.
“They were collected and put in a crate. They left on the back of a truck like
cattle. I have no idea where they are or where they’ll end up. Sylar’s ass was
still bleeding. Hope his new master won’t be too upset. The two investors
thought it was funny, so I don’t know…” Perry said trailing off in brief
thought.
“Well, I think you have had quite a night and need to come to bed. Isaac and
Randy are waiting on you.” Mac said. “See you guys in the morning.”
“Good night.” We all said together.
In the Attic
James and Hank were telling Grayson and Marty, Ed and Larry about their ‘fun’
with Taylor. Brewer and Billy were lying on Ed and Larry’s bed getting their
ass-holes probed by the expert fingers of Ed and Larry. James was saying how
Taylor didn’t like getting erections, but seemed to like getting fucked.
“That’s like me,” said Brewer.
“He’s the baby of his family. He has 3 older brothers. One works at the store
with him and he’s hot to look at, for an older guy.” Hank said giggling.
“His folks are real religious. He has a curfew. I wish he lived closer.” James
said.
“Ah, is James in love?” Larry teased.
“No, James is not in ‘love’.” James said tersely, throwing a pillow at Larry.
“He better not be.” Hank said wrestling James to the bed.
“He’s a lot like Grayson, the way his body is built, except for this.” Marty
said holding up Grayson’s long penis.
“Taylor sure liked the laces on Randy’s crotch. Did you see when he shot off
after he touched them?” Ed asked everyone. “I thought that was funny.”
“Yeah, he was a little embarrassed. He gets embarrassed a lot. He never had
sex with anyone before today.” James said.
“Has he ever masturbated?” asked Billy, grinding his hips on Ed’s hand.
“Yeah, sure, but somehow he learned that erections were a bad thing. Probably
his religion.” Hank said. “He said his older brother, the one that is close to
him in age, showed him how to wank last year before he went off to college.”
“You know, he never saw any of his brothers naked?” James said in amazement.
“How did his brother show him how to jack-off then?” asked Larry.
“Taylor said his brother pulled his pants down and grabbed it and pumped it a
few times. He shot off and his brother said, ‘there, now you have just
masturbated, don’t wear it out’, and he’s been doing it everyday since.” James
said. “That was the first time anyone had ever touched him too.”
“Well, some families are strange about sex especially if they are a strict
religious sort,” said Billy.
“I hear ya’, my Granny preached to me all the time. I had to go to church
every time the doors were open until I turned 17. She started getting sick a
lot and she still told me I needed to go for both of us. I’d get on the bus
but I wouldn’t get off at the church.” Hank said, smiling about his ‘wicked
ways’. “Granny always said I had to wash my hands when I peed and she always
told me to ‘hide myself’, if she saw my erection in my pants. She’s a real
prude.”
“Well, you were lucky to have her look after you like she did. My ol’ lady
didn’t give a rats ass about me. All she cared about was booze and drugs. At
least you never had to eat garbage.” James said. “I had to beg for food when I
was little. She always tricked the state into letting her keep me every time
someone in the project complained. She told them I had an eating disorder
once. They never demanded proof, they just wrote it off and went away. I ran
after one lady once, and begged her to take me away from my mom, but she
scolded me and sent me back inside.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen a lot of state abuses while I was in residency, before Doctor
Walker hired me. Drugs and booze are responsible for so much pain and
suffering. It’s the kids that get hurt the most. I wish there were a law, that
defined the people who do it around their kids, that would force parents to
make a choice and if they can’t the state would separate them.” Billy said.
“Well, the state isn’t much better, but at least you get fed and have a dry
place to sleep.” Brewer said.
“I know what it’s like to live with an alcoholic mother.” Marty said. “My mom
never cooked that I know of. I always had to go downstairs in the bar and eat.
I actually got better food at school most of the time. The old man in the
restaurant next door let me have leftovers a lot. I don’t really like Chinese
anymore.” He said wrinkling up his nose. “The bikers that came to the bar
would buy me stuff but they almost always expected me to ‘do ‘em a favor’. I
got my ass popped for the first time when I was 10. They’d tease me about my
tiny dick and I guess that’s where I learned to hate it.” Marty said in
disgust.
Grayson pulled Marty into his chest and hugged him tight trying to make the
bad memories disappear. Marty wiped his eyes and smiled.
“I ain’t got to worry about that no more.” Marty said. “Now the only thing is
trying to get this guy to stay put.” He said pulling Grayson into a kiss.
“Hey, about that, how are you getting back to town tomorrow, Grayson?” James
asked.
“I really don’t know. I guess Jim will take me. I called Mom last night but we
didn’t talk about it. She just wanted to know all about Marty. She even wanted
me to describe him to her. I haven’t told her about us being naked all the
time out here. I don’t know how she’d take that.” Grayson said.
“Well, you were wrong about how she would feel about you being gay. I’m sure
she has been around some and knows about places like this. She did have a life
before she had you, you know.” Marty said. “I think you should just tell her.
Tell her about getting cut too. What’s the worst that could happen? You can
always get emancipated like I did. I could have waited until my 18th birthday
but Doc Walker felt it would be good for my mind if I got ‘legal’ right now.
He was right. My mom has no control over me now. It feels great!”
“Well, I love my mom and her partner. I like they way things are at home and
don’t want to upset anything. It would kill me to have my mom hate me.”
Grayson said frowning.
“They won’t hate you, Greyhound. You’ve already seen that. You were so sure of
yourself last week and it didn’t turn out anything like you thought. She’s
asking about Mutt and how you feel about him, that’s a sign if I ever saw
one.” James said, rubbing Grayson’s leg.
“Hey let’s stop talking about all the negatives we can find. Everything is
better now. Why don’t you two sleep with us tonight.” Hank said patting his
and James’s bed.
Marty and Grayson looked at each other and jumped on them, wrestling them.
Hank ended up in Grayson’s ass and James ended up in Hank’s ass. Grayson stuck
his long dick out for Marty to back up on. They started a chain-fuck with
Larry and Ed grinning, looking on. Larry and Ed lay on their ‘pets’ and rode
them to sleep.
Downstairs in the Office
Jamie was thinking about the conversation he’d had earlier with Barry, his
friend from work. He had told Barry that he would be staying at the farm for
several months and not coming back to town. He also told Barry about his
operation and getting his dick and balls cut out. He had to endure Barry’s
condolences and remind him that he was all right and, no, he didn’t need him
to do anything for him, he had everything he needed at the farm. He told Barry
about Matt or one of his associates needing his legal papers and Barry said
he’d be home. He got laid off and would be looking for work. He wished Jamie
well and asked about Little Bit. Jamie slipped up and told him about the boys
spoiling her and covered himself by telling him that there were ‘other
patients’ at the farm. He was wondering how Barry would perceive him now that
he knew he’d lost everything ‘male’. He drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Sunday Morning
We woke to the house phone ringing. Allan was lying on Dan’s chest with his
legs across mine. David was snuggled up in a fetal position against my chest,
his ass grinding my groin in his sleep. I stretched and yawned and slapped
asses as I crawled out of the bed. The boys were playing in the shower when I
went into the bathroom. Todd was trying to keep his cast out of the water by
standing at the end of the tub and letting Art and Aaron soap his little body
up. They were all three giggling and snickering.
“You guy’s been up long?” I asked from the sink.
“We just got in here.” Aaron said.
“Come take a shower with us.” Art begged.
I stepped into the shower and got chilled. It was too cold for my liking.
“Jeez you guys are going to freeze your nuts off!” I exclaimed.
“Not all of us!” Aaron snickered, soaping up Art’s groin from behind.
Art was sporting a boner as was Todd and Aaron. Just looking at them having
fun got mine to rise. They laughed and swatted at it. I grabbed Art’s neck and
pulled him close. I had to wipe his long hair out of his face to see his eyes.
Those sparkling baby-blues melt me every time I look at them.
“I have to get out of here. I’m freezing. You hurry up and go get Uncle Dan
and Allan out of bed.” I said shivering, trying to get out without slipping.
They got rinsed off and helped Todd out of the tub. They didn’t bother
toweling, something we’re going to have to work on, but ran and jumped on the
bed shaking their hair all over the sleeping three adults. Allan got the most
of it. The boys were screaming and so were Dan and David. Dan came into the
bathroom and parked Aaron on the shower mat. Allan brought Art in. Todd peeked
in from the doorway, David scooped him up and planted him on the mat. I handed
them towels and they got the boys dried off and wrapped up.
“You guys got water everywhere!” David said. “When you are indoors, you need
to dry off before leaving the bathroom. OK?”
They giggled and obliged. I was finishing shaving when David started the
shower again. I got in with him and was scrubbing his back when Allan and Dan
stepped in. Thank goodness it is a large tub.
“The boys went downstairs. Olin and Mica just came up here to see if we were
all awake. I guess Steve and Frank had an early morning.” Allan said.
“How’s your ass?” I asked him.
“You mean has it recovered from last night?” Allan asked smiling. “It feels
just fine. I could do it again.”
“Good, I’m ready to go right now.” Dan said laughing and stepping behind
Allan, pushing his little boner into Allan’s ass-crack.
“Oh, lordy, let’s get out of here.” David said to me laughing.
I flushed the toilet on the way out of the bathroom. They heard the howls in
the kitchen.
“Good morning you two. We’re all out on the porch again. It’s really warm out.
Frank and Steve are here already. Matt had a meeting with one of the
investors, so they all got up and came on up here. Artie, coffee is on the
porch, if that’s what you are looking for.” Mac said, busying around the
stove.
Randy was helping Isaac make biscuits and Grayson was rolling the dough out.
Marty was cutting them with a large glass.
“I haven’t seen anyone use a glass as a cookie-cutter since I was little.” I
said, pinching him in his side.
Marty giggled and bumped me with his hip. Grayson threatened me with the
rolling pin. I went on out to the porch and sat by Frank. He had Mica on his
lap. Perry was sitting across the table with Todd on his lap. He was checking
the boy’s arm.
“No swelling I see. I guess we got it right yesterday. Maybe we’ll be able to
take that staple out in a couple of days. Did you take your pill yet?” Perry
asked Todd.
“No sir, I was waiting on you.” Todd replied.
“You don’t need to do that. Just ask someone if it hurts. Mac or David or even
Artie knows what you are supposed to have. Now sit right here and I’ll go get
something for you.” Perry said, rising from the table.
Perry went into the office and Jamie was sitting up on the bed at the back of
the room.
“Good morning, Mister Jamie. Feeling OK?” Perry asked him, reaching for the
drugs off the shelf.
“Just stiff. I need to get some exercise.” Jamie said stretching and yawning.
“You guys sure get up early around here. What time is it?”
“It’s nearly 6: AM.” Perry said amused.
“Jeez, isn’t it Sunday?” Jamie asked.
“Sure is and there’s a lot to do today. We’re having a dinner down by the
creek and you are coming. You’re also helping, so get a move on.” Perry said
on his way out.
Jamie stood up and stretched again. He noticed a strange stirring in his groin
and looked down. No, nothing there. He shook his head and went down the hall
to the bathroom. He habitually scratched his groin where his pubic bush was
last week and felt a strange sensation that he was getting an erection. He
looked down again like he couldn’t believe his dick was not still there. He
rubbed the soft spot where his penis root used to be and felt that low-
sinking, almost lazy feeling one gets when they are really aroused and about
to have a climax. He sat on the toilet and continued to rub himself. He came
in only a few seconds. He had to hold on to the window ledge, it was so
powerful. He sat there breathing hard until the phantom-like sensations went
away. He washed his face and went outside into the sunlight. The showerhead on
the deck was starting to be his favorite washing place. Brewer and Billy were
already out there. He stood there waiting patiently but Billy grabbed his arm
and pulled him into the stream of cool water. He and Brewer soaped Jamie up
and tickled him awake. He finally got all the soap off and went to sit down in
the rising sun to dry off. Billy and Brewer joined him.
“I had the strangest thing happen this morning, guys.” Jamie started. “I
rubbed myself and blew a wad. It felt like I still had a dick getting hard but
deeper, you know?”
“Did it feel like it did when you had a dick, or was it something different?”
Billy asked.
“Sort-of both. I could see it wasn’t there but I felt it. Like it was
something sort-of like me pushing my hard dick into something that was too
tight. Sort-of like grabbing your erection and pushing it into itself, you
know?” Jamie said trying to explain.
“That’s probably your nerves getting better now that your infection is gone.
We told you some of your feelings would return. Some people call it ‘phantom
feelings’ but hey, if it got you off, who the hell cares?” Billy said smiling.
“I still feel my nuts swinging sometimes.” Brewer said.
“Yeah, me too.” Billy said.
“Well, I haven’t felt that but the hardness feeling is still there. I can look
at my crotch and see that there is nothing down there but I swear it feels
like I have a boner.” Jamie said.
“Well, you need to memorize that feeling and encourage it to grow. We told you
that other areas of your body would ‘kick-in’ when you least expected it.
Welcome to the club.” Billy said, slapping Jamie on the back. “Try rubbing
around your piss-hole and see where that takes you. Michael can shoot off from
that. You might be able to also.”
They got up to go into the screened porch and grab some breakfast. Billy
announced Jamie’s newfound feelings to his embarrassment, but he just raised
his hand and bowed. There really weren’t any secrets out here.
“Who in the world was calling so early this morning.” I asked Perry.
He held up his finger to his lips and shook his head. Then looked at Grayson
and back at me. Then mouthed ‘Later’ like I could read lips. He gave me the
‘time-five-minutes’ sign we used to use in baseball and I shook my head “OK”.
David and Mac brought platters of bacon and scrambled eggs out to the table.
Isaac unloaded a pan full of biscuits into a big basket and hurried back into
the kitchen.
“We are going to need to reopen the drawing room and put the big table back in
there. The porch is nice but what are we going to do when fall sets in?” Mac
asked Perry.
“But I like the drawing room.” Perry said.
“Oh, you haven’t been in there for months. You have a study that you never use
either. Wonder why your office is so crowded and messy? You never leave it.
The drawing room is plenty big for everybody to sit at once, and that’s more
important than a big old room full of antiques. I doubt you will miss it.” Mac
said to Perry, then turning toward David, “I’m glad I never got rid of
Mother’s old table. That room used to be a dining room 100 years ago, when Dad
was little. The table was shipped from England. It will seat 42 people. It
will take a lot of hands to bring it all back to the house and set it up. I
hope all the chairs are still in good shape. I bet all the cushions need
replacing. Oh, boy, I have another project. Goodie!” he said in David and
Steve’s direction.
Perry just rolled his eyes and shook his head smiling at me. I smiled back. I
gave him the ‘better-you-than-me’ look but I knew my time was coming when
David starts to decorate our house. Frank, Perry and I knew that was our queue
to get out of Dodge and went to the deck to nurse what was left of our coffee.
We were only allowed one cup in the mornings.
“So who was that on the phone?” I asked Perry, knowing there were no secrets
from Frank.
“Grayson’s mother.” Perry replied. “She’s headed out here and should be here
around 8: AM.”
“You don’t say. I thought Jim would take him into town and meet her
somewhere.” Frank said.
“She wants to meet Marty and she knows he will not leave the property.” Perry
replied.
“You didn’t tell her what’s gone on this last week, did you, and what about
the nudity?” I asked.
“I did tell her about the nudity. She said she figured there had to be a
reason he wanted to stay out here. He told her he wanted to move out here to
be with Marty. She told him he could bring Marty home with him if he wanted
to, but he had said Marty had school here and all his friends were here, and
that there was just so much to do, she just went on-and-on about their last
conversation. He told her he got hurt but he’s Ok now. He didn’t tell her how
he got hurt. He just said it was a ‘boy thing’. I told her he’d have to be the
one to tell her about it when she asked what he meant. I just said he was fine
and didn’t loose anything important. I promised her she was more than welcome
to visit but we didn’t make exceptions for visitors. This is a nudist retreat
and a working nudist farm. It might be a little uncomfortable for her and her
partner but I can’t get between a mother and her son. I told her we were
planning a dinner party and she was welcome to stay. I just don’t know how
she’ll react to him being castrated. Should I tell him she is on her way out
or should I just let it be a surprise?” Perry asked us. “Mac said not to
interfere. If she wants to surprise him, then let her. I don’t want a scene
from some loose cannon. I’ve seen lesbians go off on people before and it
ain’t pretty. They don’t know when to stop.”
“Have you told Jim?” I asked.
“No, he and Jacob are still upstairs. They don’t usually get up before 8. I
guess I should warn him.” Perry replied.
“Well, I’m not exactly thrilled to display myself to a woman but they’re
lesbians and I guess that means they could really care less about a naked man.
Some of the boys might get embarrassed though.” I said.
“I kind-a feel the same way” said Frank. “I really don’t care either way but I
don’t want my kids getting undue attention. She does know that we are all gay
doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she knows that already. Grayson told her that when he told her that he
was. She’s fine with that aspect. She’d rather he be here than out trolling
the streets looking for a dick to ride. She’s known about him being gay
forever. She just didn’t know how to approach the subject. He practically
wears a sign, you know. He’s not the most ‘Butch’ boy there ever was.” Perry
said grinning.
“Maybe we should get him to dress up in Mac’s mother’s old dresses again.
That’d be a hoot!” said Frank.
“I don’t know about that,” Perry said.
“I’m going upstairs to get Jim. I really think he should be in on this.” I
said.
“Yeah, I think so too, it’s almost 7.” Frank said.
“OK, then, lets see what happens when Jim puts his two cents into the pot.”
Perry said.
“Knowing lesbians, they’ll probably be early.” Frank said. “The three at work
are never late and always early for shift.”
I got to Jim and Jacob’s room and I heard stirrings but no voices. I knocked
on the door anyway. Michael opened the door.
“Hey bud, is Jim up yet?” I asked.
“Hold on,” Michael said and shut the door.
I thought it odd but they can be a little secretive. They like their privacy.
A few minutes later, Jim came to the door. He opened it and stuck his head
out.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he said yawning.
“We need you downstairs. Grayson’s mother is on her way out here. Perry and
Frank are on the deck. Hurry.” I said turning to hit the stairs.
“Shit! I though she was going to meet me in town! I’ll be right down.” Jim
said, slamming the door.
Well, if Jacob and Josh weren’t up before, they were now.
I got back to the deck and Larry and Ed were walking a string of mares through
the yard. They went to the pasture gate and turned them all loose.
“Hey, what’s wrong with the gate at the end of the lane?” Perry asked.
“Takes too long and we need to clean up around the creek before lunch. All
those mares were running loose down there.” Ed replied.
“Well, don’t make a habit of using the yard. Make a new gate if you need to.”
Perry said.
“We’re going to make one behind the bunkhouse when it’s built.” Larry said,
sitting down for a second. Is there anything left to eat? I’m starved.”
“You didn’t eat before you went to the barn?” Frank asked.
“There weren’t nobody up when we went to the barn.” Ed said, sitting down
beside Larry.
Brewer and Billy came outside with plates and coffee. They were already
treating Larry and Ed like princes. They must be one good fuck, I thought.
They even buttered and jammed their biscuits for them. I half expected Brewer
and Billy to spoon-feed them! Perry looked at me and we smiled about it. He
was thinking the same thing. Matt and Mark came out of the house. They had
gone up to the attic when they arrived to hop in bed with Grayson and Marty
but didn’t come down to eat with Grayson and Marty. Matt had to make some
phone calls and Mark stayed with him. They sat by us and watched Brewer and
Billy dote on Ed and Larry.
“Sickening isn’t it?” Matt asked.
Mark jabbed him in the ribs. Dan and Allan came out to sit by them and Dan
grabbed Matt and hoisted him up in the air. They were close in age and had hit
it off. Matt liked the attention. Mark jumped up on the table and sat behind
Allan, rubbing his nub on Allan’s back. Allan leaned his head back in Mark’s
lap.
“You guy’s sleep late.” Mark said.
“Hey, it’s Sunday.” Allan said.
“Are you going off to show houses today?” Mark asked.
“Not until after lunch. We don’t show houses on Sunday’s without an
appointment. I have one at 2 and another at 3. I’ll be back around 4 unless
someone calls.” Allan said.
Jim came out on the deck and sat by Perry.
“What are your plans for Grayson’s mom?” Jim asked.
“I vote to just let her show up. We just didn’t think you should be surprised.
She knows all about the place and knows we’re nudists. She said she
understood. She doesn’t know about Grayson being castrated. He failed to tell
her that when he told her he was gay and fell in love. She wants to meet
Marty.” Perry said.
“Holy Christ. I don’t know what to think.” Jim said.
“Well, you have about an hour unless they are early. They should be here
around 8.” Perry said.
“Is she going to leave him out here or is she coming to pick him up?” Jim
asked.
“I really don’t know. We didn’t talk about that. I told her we would not make
exceptions for her and her partner. We would not be asking anyone to don
clothing. I told her they could join us for lunch and clothing was optional.
There’s going to be several of Mac’s family from the reservation coming and I
think there is going to be another surprise guest too. We might get a scene
and we might not. I don’t know those women and you do, so you tell me.” Perry
said.
“I don’t know if they would cause a scene just from Grayson or us being naked
but seeing her son nutless might. Who’s the other surprise?” Jim asked.
“A friend of Jamie’s”, Perry replied. “You are not to tell him. Barry asked me
not to. He knows all about Jamie’s operation and doesn’t want him closing
himself off to his old friends. He needs to know that he can still have some
of his old friends around. Right now, he thinks he is alone. He has support
here and all, but he had ties to another world, and he needs to keep those
ties without shame. Barry called me while I was in the office this morning. He
has caller ID. I almost woke Jamie up when he told me who he was but he said
he had called to talk to me. Jamie called him yesterday afternoon and told him
he lost his dick and balls and that Matt was coming around to pick up some
legal papers for him. Jamie told him he was staying out here indefinitely.
Barry wants to see him and he didn’t think Jamie would let him if he asked. I
think it would help him recover. It might be a shock at first, but knowing
that one of your closest friends is willing to overlook a defect that you
think is a deal-breaker, is a healthy thing. Barry asked me what to expect and
I told him there is nothing wrong with Jamie now. I’m certain he will go on
for many more years. I don’t think there is any cancer left in his system but
we’ll still check anyway. He is getting around a lot better and has had some
encounters with a couple of the boys, so I think he is adjusting. I told Barry
he has to learn new ways of doing things and sex was one of them. Barry asked
me what I meant and I just said he’s exploring options in what equipment he
has left. He just said ‘Oh’, so, I think Barry is a friend that Jamie didn’t
really count on and could use. He’s also looking for work and says he’s the
best carpenter there is. I got the impression he’s pretty bold. I bet there
are a few things Barry neglected to tell Jamie over the years, trying to honor
the ‘straight code of conduct’.” Perry finished.
“You think Barry is gay?” Matt asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that without at least meeting the guy but he was really
concerned for Jamie. Most straight guys would not say their feelings out loud.
He may be the exception, I don’t know. We’ll see how many radar’s go off after
he gets here.” Perry said.
“Does this Barry guy know that we’re nudists?” Frank asked.
“I told him that clothing is optional.” Perry replied. “He asked if Jamie was
naked and I said he hadn’t gotten dress since his operation.”
“Well, I hope it helps Jamie more than hurts him. You’re taking a big risk,”
Matt said.
“I know, I hope my instincts are sound this time, I really do. I only hope
that Jamie accepts his friend’s offer of acceptance as is. I really do think
it would do him good to have someone he can relate to.” Perry said. “He gets
along well with the boys because he is 10 years older than most of them. That
kind-of puts him in a superior place. He needs someone on his own level and
from his old background. Someone he can be truly comfortable with. There has
to be a reason Barry and he have been friends for so many years. I’m betting
there are feelings that one or the other doesn’t want to or think he can talk
about.”
“I’m sure your instincts are right.” Mark said more with matchmaking on his
mind than concern.
“Oh, stop that you big sissy!” Matt exclaimed. “You got to meet the guy before
you can set ‘em up! Jeez, you’re as bad as Mac sometimes.” He said hugging
Mark and grinning at the rest of us.
James and Hank came in from the barn.
“Any food left?” James asked on the way past.
“There’s always food boy. You guys get finished?” Perry asked.
“Yes sir, we’re ready for you any time.” James said opening the screened door.
“We put all the doors and windows inside the old crib and all the lumber under
the shed. We need to spray that lumber with Copper-clear if it’s going to stay
outside long.” Hank said.
“What’s Copper-clear?” Mark asked.
“Copper naphthenate,” Dan said. “It’s a wood preservative, keeps the boring
bees out of it.”
“Very good, trucker-man!” Allan said.
“I had to use a lot of it around the house when Dad was alive. Stinky stuff,
too.” Dan said. “It’s a real good product for decks and fence posts but it
takes a long time for the smell to go away.” Dan said with a wrinkled nose.
“Well, the clear product doesn’t smell, you must have used the Copper-Brown.
We put that on the deck out here once, and it does stink. We use Thompson’s
with stain now. It smells too, but it goes away in a few days. I’d like to
build a new deck with some of that plastic wood product, but I could build a
new house for what the deck would cost. I would never get my money’s worth out
of it.” Perry said.
“Well, I’m going inside to see if I can help Mac,” Mark said.
“Remember to keep your trap shut or I’ll spank you”, Matt said.
“Oh, you promise?” Mark asked.
“Mark!” Matt said looking at him sternly.
“OK, OK, mum’s the word on the mom,” Mark said and jumped up the steps. “But
I’d still like a spanking,” he said as he went in the door.
“See what I have to put up with?” Matt said shaking his head.
“What are the boys doing with all that wood? I thought they got it where they
wanted it last week.” Dan asked.
“Well, we’re going to build the school first and then the bunkhouse. Some of
the school supplies were buried and needed to be found.” Perry said.
“Perry, when you have a moment, could I talk to you?” Allan asked.
“Sure, walk with me, I need to go see what the boys have done,” Perry invited.
Dan and I looked at them and Frank said,
“I think he’s going to ask for the treatment Perry promised him last week.”
“Your not serious,” I said.
“I think he is,” Dan said. “We talked about it after you guys left last
night.”
“He wants to be castrated, after all this time,” I said in amazement. “I
thought he was concerned about keeping them so he could stay natural.”
“He thinks differently now. I told him I would support his decision. I’d love
him if he had nothing. He says he doesn’t have anything but he does. His
thinks his penis is so small, it’s more of a hindrance than an asset. I told
him I wanted him to keep his dick. He could rearrange it like Frank’s and even
get rid of his balls, but he had to keep something for me to play with. I
don’t think I would leave him, but I like teasing his pecker. I haven’t worked
up to sucking it yet, but I will eventually. He said it would be better if he
were cut. If it’s what he wants, then so be it.” Dan said.
“Well, castrated men sometimes stop producing semen. They all stop producing
sperm of course. He may be thinking about not producing so much jism. It
practically pours out of him. He drools all the time when he’s horny.
Castrated, that might stop. It might just make your intimate times, together,
more enjoyable for both of you. A lot of guys don’t like the taste of semen.
That might be one of his concerns. Have you tasted it yet?” Frank asked.
“No, you think I should?” Dan asked.
“That’s something you need to decide. It’s a male body fluid and if you are
going to make love to another male, it kind-of goes with the territory. You
might like it and you might not. Only you can decide that. I think you should
try before he makes a decision that can’t be undone.” Frank advised. “Do you
know whether he’s going to use HRT?”
“What’s that?” Dan asked.
“Hormone Replacement Therapy.” Matt spoke up. “It’s what a lot of us take. If
he is comfortable with himself without nuts, he may not want to use any. Perry
usually lets the castrated male wait until they loose any ability to function
before dosing. There are quite a few guys who don’t want any at all. Then
there are some that just want the bare minimums, like me. Mark actually gets
more than I do.” Matt said.
“Your brother doesn’t get much either. He doesn’t like to be tanked up. I
actually get a full load. Why I need waxing so much. You probably wouldn’t
need much if you were cut because of your chemistry. It’s probably a lot like
David’s. You can pop a wad several times a day and can get off without doing
anything if you wanted to. I’ve seen you. The amount of HRT is determined by
preferences,” I said.
“Wow, I didn’t know that. I guess I need to talk to Allan again, maybe we
should talk to Perry together.” Dan said.
“I think that is a good idea, Kid. If you are going to be a couple, things
like that should be discussed,” I said.
“Kid…You’re never going to let me grow up are you?” Dan said smiling.
“You’re my baby brother too. I watched you grow up. Can’t help it,” I said
slapping his ass as he got up from the table.
Dan trotted off toward the shed after Perry and Allan.
Meet the ‘Moms’
Frank and I watched as a big ‘dually’ pickup drove up the lane. It stopped in
front of the house like people do when they’ve never been here before. Friends
and family pull around back. Frank and I walked around to the front of the
house, through the yard, and up to the front gate. It was two women, obviously
Grayson’s mother and her partner. I looked at Frank and smiled. They were
early. We stepped through the gate and introduced ourselves. The driver
introduced herself as Janet Boueleu-Townsend, and the passenger was Shirley
Boueleu-Townsend. Shirley was Grayson’s mother. Janet was a huge woman who
looked like she loved beer and good times. Shirley was a tall woman but
delicately built. I could see where Grayson got his height. Shirley’s features
were likening to Grayson’s. Whoever his sperm donor was, must have looked a
lot like his mother or wasn’t very dominate in the genes department. Grayson
actually looked like the real male version of Shirley.
“Wow, you guys really are nudist,” Janet said walking around the huge truck to
help Shirley down.
“Hi, my name is Artemis. Folks call me Artie. This here is Frank. He’s one of
our neighbors.” I said, extending my hand. Janet grabbed it and squeezed the
life out of it.
“Hi, I’m Janet, this is my partner, Shirley, Grayson’s mom. Where is Grayson?”
Janet asked.
“He’s probably still inside. We’re having a dinner on the grounds today to
celebrate all the adoptions this week. We’re having some folks from the
Cherokee reservation joining us too. Are you two staying for dinner?” Frank
asked.
“Damn dude, what happened to you?” Janet said looking at Frank’s balls.
She couldn’t see his dick behind them.
“Oh, I was born defective”, Frank said smiling.
He didn’t feel like lifting his buts to show off his penis this time. Then she
looked at me.
“You born defective too?” Janet asked, staring at my lack of nuts.
“No, I decided I didn’t like them. Perry, ah, Doctor Walker got rid of them
for me.” I said, then turning toward Shirley, “I can see where Grayson gets
his looks. Are you sure you want to surprise him? He might have a heart
attack.” I said smiling.
“Oh, I don’t care if he’s running around butt naked. He did a lot of that
growing up. It was murder keeping his clothes on until he got started in
school. His Kindergarten teachers had a time keeping him dressed for nap-
time!” Shirley said laughing. “I know he probably thinks I’m too old to know
what boys do today. I try to let him be his own person but sometimes I don’t
know how to handle it. He told me he was gay a few days ago. I told him I’ve
known for a long time but didn’t know how or if I should talk to him about it.
Boy’s aren’t my specialty.” She said with a smile.
Well, I hope she can keep that sense of humor when she sees her son.
“I just got a kid this week and he’s actually my little brother. He hates
clothes too. We have to bribe him to get dressed to go into town.” I said.
“Well, come on inside and meet everyone.”
We walked into the house through the front door and startled Randy and Isaac
on the couch in the living room. They weren’t having sex but they were cuddled
up watching TV. Olin and Mica were playing cars on the rug with Art and Aaron.
Todd was lying cross-wise in the lay-Z-boy beside the TV with his cast on the
armrest. All the boys turned to look at us coming in the front. People seldom
do that. Their eyes got real wide when they realized two women were with us.
Art got up and walked over to me. I picked him up and introduced him. Olin got
up and Frank picked him up.
“This is Art. He’s my brother. He’s a little shy. We just found out about him
this past week. He’s the one who started all the adoption craze.” I said
proudly.
“He’s a beautiful boy,” Janet said, reaching out to shake his small hand.
She just held his hand, obviously feeling no need to establish dominance with
a little kid.
“How old is he?” Janet asked.
“He’s 16 actually. He’s just small. He’s one of Grayson’s classmates. This is
Aaron, Isaac and Randy. They were adopted by Mac and Perry.” I said of each
boy in turn.
“This is one of mine, he’s Olin. That one down there is Mica. They’re 15.”
Frank said beaming.
“Aren’t you two cute,” Shirley said of Mica and Olin, Mica having turned his
head to look up. “Are they twins?”
“No, they are first cousins and half-brothers. Their mother’s were sisters.
They had the same father.” Frank said. “They were born a month apart.”
“They look like fraternal twins,” Janet said.
“Well, let’s go into the kitchen. Everyone’s probably awake by now and that’s
where they’ll be.” I said.
We walked into the kitchen and Mac, David, Steve, Jim and Jacob were waiting
at the table. Mac was mixing a batch of his dressing and Jacob was cutting up
fruit for a salad. David and Steve were folding napkins. Jim just looked
worried.
“Well, hello there Jim. You’ve been keeping a secret from us!” Janet said
reaching out to take his hand.
Shirley was smiling and a little embarrassed, but she spoke.
“You needn’t worry about us. We know you have a life away from school. It’s
not our thing but we don’t mind. I can’t understand why you are not more
popular, from what I can see right now.” Shirley said smiling, glancing at
Jim’s giant genitals.
Jim turned red as a beet. Larry and Ed were bringing their plates back into
the kitchen with Brewer and Billy right behind them. They froze at the sight
of the two women.
“It’s OK, boys, they won’t bite you. Well, they might if you ask nicely,” Mac
said. “ Hi. I’m Mac, this is David, Artie’s better half and this is Steve,
Frank’s boss. That one, is Jacob, he belongs to Jim. Come on in and have a
seat. We’re real informal around here, as you can see.”
“I could use a cup of coffee,” Janet said, pulling a chair for Shirley, then
taking one for her.
“Larry, honey, get the lady some coffee. Would you like something Shirley?”
Mac asked.
“Coffee would be nice, thanks.” She replied.
“These are two of my nephews, this one, who isn’t usually quiet, is Ed and
that one is Larry. They work our horses for us. Todd is another one. Come here
sweetie and say hello.” Mac said to Todd coming into the kitchen. “He takes
some warming up, but he’ll get friendlier after a while.”
Marty and Grayson walked into the kitchen to see what was taking Larry and Ed
so long. Marty froze and Grayson bumped into him. Then he saw his mother and
Janet.
“Mom! What are you doing here?” Grayson exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers.
“We found out something about you and had to come see for ourselves, kid,”
said Janet. “Well, don’t just stand there, come give us a hug. This cute kid
must be Marty. Wow, what happened to you boy? Look at the studs Shirley.
That’s got to be the wildest thing I’ve ever seen. Holy Mother, where are your
nuts, Grayson?” Janet exclaimed. “Went did you get fixed?”
“A week ago. It’s why I didn’t want to come home. I didn’t want to lie but I
was afraid.” Grayson said.
“Afraid of what honey? You got rid of something you don’t need?” Shirley
asked, just now realizing what Perry had meant. “They are or rather were your
testicles. If you didn’t want them, then I’m glad you got what you wanted. I’m
not the one who has to live with the choices you make. I told you that when
you wanted to pierce your ears four times. It’s your body. I’m sorry you
didn’t feel you could talk to me about it but we’ll work on that…So this is
Marty. Come here and let me look at you. He’s cute Grayson. Why did you get
rid of your penis and testicles, honey…you didn’t like them?” Shirley asked.
“No ma’am”, Marty said, letting the woman look at his formerly private area.
Shirley touched the barbells and then rubbed Marty’s smooth groin.
“It is kind-of cool. Do you like being an unsex person?” Shirley asked.
“We call it Nullo, Ma’am.” Marty explained.
“Oh, my goodness, you are a proper boy aren’t you?” Shirley said laughing.
“He can be when he wants to,” Mac said wrapping his arm around Marty’s waist.
“He’s another one of our boys.”
Marty blushed for the first time in days. He liked it when Mac said he was
‘his boy’.
“We would like to know more about the home school you have here.” Janet said.
“Well, we have just hired a teacher. We just decided to start the school this
week because we didn’t want the boys to have to endure teasing and all at
school. Here they can be themselves and be among people who love them just the
way that they are.” Mac said.
Shirley picked up Grayson’s penis to look under it.
“Mom! Jeez!” Grayson said, covering his groin with his hands.
“Boy, please, I changed your diapers. I scrubbed your behind until you were 9.
I know what you look like. I just wanted to see what kind of work Doctor
Walker does. All you boys decided to get waxed? You look 13 again Grayson.”
Shirley said laughing.
“Did Perry tell you how all this happened?” Mac asked.
“No, he said he had to let Grayson tell that tale. So, go ahead, boy, tell the
tale. What got your nuts gone? I know you had them when you left last
week…What, Shirl, they showed up in his shorts”, Janet said to Shirley in
defense for being so brash.
“Let him talk, he’ll get there. So go ahead. What did you do?” Shirley asked
Grayson.
“We were horsing around in the barn the Friday night we arrived and a lot of
us got hurt. We all decided to come out here to get waxed for swimming. Doc
Perry makes it so it isn’t painful. Well the medication lasts a long time and
we were fooling around with a calf castration tool and didn’t know we were
hurting ourselves. We never felt anything. We just thought it was all so
funny. Doc Perry had to clean us up. He didn’t want us to hurt ourselves. I
wanted this cut off but he wouldn’t let me.” Grayson said, lifting his dick up
for the last statement.
“You wanted to be like Marty?” Shirley asked.
“Yes…. Then I did…but now I don’t. Marty had to loose his, so I need to keep
mine. I never liked mine until I met Marty.” Grayson said leaning into Marty.
“Where is Doctor Walker?” Shirley asked.
“He’s around somewhere. We have a lot to accomplish this week and we’re having
dinner out by the creek and some of my family from the reservation is coming.
He’s probably off trying to get things organized.” Mac said.
“I’d like to thank him for insisting Grayson stay intact. Kids change their
minds so much. I’m glad he didn’t go and cut himself up.” Shirley said. “I
just wish he could have told me some of his feelings a little more. I never
knew he hated his body so much.”
“Aw, Mom, I’m right here.” Grayson said.
“I know you are honey, I’m trying to understand you. You know we only want the
best for you, we just don’t know what to do with boys, that’s all.” Shirley
said smiling, stroking his chest. “I didn’t know this thing was so big. When
did that happen?” she said looking at his penis.
“Jeez Mom! It just grew,” Grayson was exasperated.
“I don’t remember it being that big, do you Janet?” Shirley teased.
“No the last time I saw it, he was a tadpole,” Janet replied laughing.
I was starting to see where Grayson got his unique sense of humor. These two
women obviously liked to poke fun and have fun. They might not be so bad after
all.
“Grayson, honey, why don’t you and Marty show your folks around some while we
finish getting ready for dinner. If you see James and Hank, tell them I need
them.” Mac suggested.
They all got up and went outside. Perry was walking back to the house with Dan
and Allan. Dan and Allan almost freaked out when they saw the two women but
Perry kept walking. They slowly walked behind him.
“Doc, this is my mom and her partner Janet.” Grayson said.
“Well, nice to finally meet you.” Perry said winking at Grayson.
“You knew they were coming out didn’t you!” Grayson cried. “Thanks!” he said
with an exasperated smile.
“You’re welcome bud. Glad I could help.” Perry said, smiling at Grayson.
“Janet, Shirley, this is Dan, David’s brother, and this is Allan, his better
half. I suppose you have met most everyone?”
They looked at Allan a little closer than he wanted, but he held his composure
and said hello along with Dan. Perry left them to continue on their way to the
house and walked the women away from the house.
“We’ve met a few people. I wanted to thank you for making sure Grayson didn’t
do something he would regret later in life. I don’t know what I would have
done if you hadn’t been here. I know kids do things and don’t always think
things through. You did an amazing job on his stitches. It looks like he was
born this way. I used to be a surgery tech a few years ago at County General.
I work for Doctor Barnes in private practice now. He’s Grayson’s physician. We
were talking the other day and I mentioned he was at this farm. Dr. Barnes has
nothing but good things to say about you.” Shirley said.
“I pay him well,” Perry joked. “I consulted Roy about Grayson before I
operated. He told me about his body dimorphic feelings and I had to take that
into account. Sometimes all these kids need is a reason. Right bud?” Perry
asked Grayson.
“Yes sir,” Grayson said, realizing he was going to endure a lot of talk about
him and it wasn’t even 9: O’clock!
“Why don’t you boys go see if you can make yourselves useful. I can take your
folks on a little tour, and you won’t have to be so embarrassed.” Perry
suggested smiling at the boy.
Grayson looked at his mother and Janet, then at Perry as if in gratitude.
“Oh, go on, I know the old folks cramp your style, give me a hug first,”
Shirley said.
He hugged her and then Janet, and he and Marty ran off. His long dick was
swinging back and forth, hip-to-hip as he ran.
“I see a lot of sexual trauma in my practice. Kids today are so insecure about
their physiques and appearance. Grayson is a classic example. He’s got to be
one of the handsomest boys I have seen in a while, and has a magnificent
specimen of a penis, but he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t think he’s good
looking either. No one knows where it comes from. There are all kinds of
reasons and it’s really not worth trying to find out. It’s actually easier to
deal with from a respect point of view. I told him his disorder was all in his
head and all he needed was a good reason to like himself, and I also told him
he was smart enough to know that. He found a reason in Marty. I couldn’t do
anything to help Marty. He damaged himself so badly; I had no choice but clean
him up. His genitals weren’t worth loosing his life over. He seems so much
happier now, though. He was born with micro-penis syndrome and he probably
would have killed himself over his physique had he not ended up here.” Perry
said shaking his head.
“Well, I’m glad you were here for him. We’ll be forever grateful to you,”
Shirley said.
“Aw, now, you don’t need to do that. I’d do it for anyone. I just don’t
believe the kids today should alter themselves until they have had enough life
experience under their belts to make those kind of decisions. If Grayson were
in his twenties, then maybe I would have taken a different view. But he’s only
16 and I didn’t think he’d thought his choices out when they were all playing
in the barn that night. He begged me to remove his penis. He loathed it. I
couldn’t do anything for his testicles except remove them or send him home. He
begged me not to send him home, and I didn’t want him to end up in an
institution. I didn’t see that in him. He just needed someone to listen, no
offence intended. I know kids today are so different than when we were their
ages. It’s really just different surroundings. They all need the same as we
did. I hope now that this is out in the open, you guys can get close again.”
Perry said as they stepped into the stables.
He took the women around, showing them where the school would be and the
bunkhouse, telling them about the plans to make the farm an antique village
similar to the way it was over 100 years ago, and ended up on the deck again
after almost an hour. All the boys were outside getting the deck cleaned up
and tables and chairs arranged for the expected company. Ed, Larry, Brewer and
Billy were headed off to the creek with rakes and a wheelbarrow. Janet and
Shirley asked if there was anything they could do and Mac said he would be
horrified if a guest worked at his house. They went over to the big swing to
sit a while. Randy brought them some tea. A few cars were coming from the
cabin and Sam and Mike were walking back to the house. They looked like they’d
been up all night. Perry stepped over to them and talked briefly. They went
into the house and went straight to bed. Jamie walked outside and seeing the
two women, turned around and went back indoors. He had heard them talking
earlier in the house but had thought they had left. He didn’t know what to
think. Mac nodded to Perry and he went inside to talk to him. A big car
stopped at the house on it’s way out of the woods and Matt went out to speak
to the driver. It was the investor who MC’d the event last night. They spoke
briefly and the man drove away. Matt wrote something down on a piece of paper
and handed it to Jim. He smiled and sat next to Mark. Matt started laughing at
Jim’s expression after Jim read the note.
“I told you that you were popular!” Matt said, about to die from laughing.
“He wants to ‘buy’ my dick?” Jim asked in horror. “I don’t think so.”
“Is that figure not enough?” Matt asked rolling around on the table.
“I wouldn’t sell it for two million.” Jim said in disgust. “It ain’t coming
off and I ain’t putting on any shows. I told that guy nicely last night, it
wasn’t my thing.”
“I’ll deal with him,” Matt said, regaining his senses. “Some of those guys can
be pushy. They wouldn’t be where they are if they weren’t. You don’t have
anything to worry about with him, though. He’s rather intimidated by your
large physique.”
Allan and Dan were sitting on the hot tub discussing what they’d talked to
Perry about. Perry also insisted that they try a few new things before they
take such a final step. Allan was getting aroused even with Janet and Shirley
sitting not too far away. It was hard enough to see his erection up close.
Unless they had binoculars, they wouldn’t be able to see it from the swing.
Dan stuck his finger on the tip of Allan’s penis. He wiped off some of Allan’s
‘drool’. He tasted it.
“A little salty,” he said with a wrinkled nose, smiling.
“I can’t help it. Yours is too, but you shoot off so hard it hits the back of
my throat. I never really taste it.” Allan said.
“I want to give you a blowjob. I want to see what it’s like. Let’s go
upstairs,” Dan said, getting up and extending his hand to Allan.
Allan got up, boner and all, and followed Dan into the house. He was willing
to suffer some embarrassment for a chance to see Dan’s face in his crotch.
Barry Thompson
A small old pickup drove up and into the side yard where all our vehicles are
parked. A tall slim young man got out and stood there, looking around. He got
a satchel from behind the seat and laid it on the driver’s seat while he took
off his shirt. He lifted his feet and removed his shoes and then stepped out
of his shorts, placing them on the seat. He stood there a while, like he was
getting up the nerve to step out into the open naked. He rolled up the truck
window and shut the door. He was carrying the satchel and a little bag of
doggy toys. He was Barry Thompson, Jamie’s best friend. David and I saw him
first and told Mac. He went out to meet him. Barry was startled by Mac’s
voided crotch and unaffected attitude toward his own nudity. Barry was wearing
sunglasses, so it was hard to tell exactly how startled, he did stop and
appear to be looking straight at Mac’s crotch. Mac reached out to take the
doggy toy bag, after Barry had obviously said he’d brought Little Bits treats.
Mac turned and waved Barry into the yard, putting his hand on his shoulder.
Barry didn’t react from the touch. He just kept talking and walking. When
Barry saw the rest of us he took his sunglasses off to see better in the
shade. He seemed thoroughly bemused. He has dark red hair but not burgundy
like Grayson’s and a thin, almost a little too thin, physique. His ass was
nicely rounded and small but his chest was also small. He was sinuey, strung-
tight, like a lot of hard-working construction workers or long distance
runners are. He has a dark tan from just below the waist up, like your average
construction worker. His circumcised penis and balls were a little under
average. He has very little body-hair, mostly concentrating in his groin. His
chest was bare, as was his stomach and legs. He didn’t have facial hair except
for a day’s worth of stubble. He has brown eyes, unusual for a redhead. If he
had freckles, his tan hid them.
“Where is Jamie?” he asked.
“He’s inside. He felt a little uncomfortable. We have a couple of women guests
with us today. They are the parents of one of the boys, that tall redhead over
there.” Mac said pointing toward Grayson, helping Marty move a table.
“Doctor Walker told me you guys were nudists and he said if I got undressed
out here, it might make Jamie more comfortable. I feel a little odd, but I’ll
deal with it. I’m not ashamed of myself or anything like that, it’s just I’ve
never done it before. It feels a little weird with women here. I though you
guys were gay nudists.” Barry said.
“I didn’t know you had talked to Perry. We are, but it’s not a criterion to
visit. You are straight aren’t you?” Mac asked a little amused.
“Well, yeah, I guess. I’ve dabbled on both sides of the fence. I haven’t had a
date in years though. I don’t have the means and it’s an awkward feeling
trying to bring someone home when you don’t have anything. After Jamie’s
divorce, things were great until he got sick. It was nice having someone to do
things with.” Barry said. “I thought Jamie went into the hospital, how did he
end up out here?”
“Perry did Jamie’s surgery here because he needed it and couldn’t afford it
anywhere else. Perry does a lot of surgeries here, as you can see. All these
boys were done here last week, just before Jamie got here. He did mine right
out here on this deck, right after we built it.” Mac said. “Jamie’s getting
around well, and doing fine. We’re sure his cancer is gone, but of course,
we’ll still need to give him check-ups every few weeks for a while. I offered
him a job. Did Perry talk to you about that?” Mac asked.
“Yes, he actually did. I’m currently looking. I got laid off last week. The
company Jamie and I were working for, folded. Lost a lot of back pay too. I
was hoping to talk to someone about the job offer, if it’s possible. But I
would really like to see Jamie first,” Barry said. “I wouldn’t want to hurt
his feelings. You think it’ll be OK for me to see him?”
“We think it will do him good to have someone he knows around. He just has to
deal with his loss. I think he has made tremendous gains this last week. His
stitches will come out tomorrow or Tuesday. He’s still a little self-
conscious. If you can convince him that he and you are still the same, I think
it will be a great morale booster.” Mac said. “Come on inside, I’ll take you
to his room.”
They went indoors. Matt, seeing Mac talking to the guy, assumed correctly that
it was Barry and followed them indoors.
“Oh, Matt, this is Barry Thompson, Jamie’s friend. I think he has some
documents for you to look over,” Mac said, introducing the two.
“Wow, is everyone here missing something?” Barry asked, looking at Matt’s
groin.
“Pretty much. There’s a few guys out here that are still intact,” Matt said,
shaking Barry’s hand.
“I’ll go see where he’s at and be right back.” Mac said.
“You are the lawyer Jamie told me about?” Barry asked Matt.
“Yes, I handle all things legal out here,” Matt said smiling. “Are you here
just for a visit or the job offer?”
“Both”, Barry replied. “I’m a little nervous about getting naked. Jamie’s
never seen me in the buff before. Hell, I’ve never been naked outside the
bathroom before!”
“Well, there won’t be any concern from anyone here about it. We all got a
surprise from one of the boy’s mother’s while ago but it’s all-cool now.
They’re lesbians and could care less about a naked male. They joked around a
little bit but it’s fine.” Matt said.
“He’s up in the attic hiding,” Mac said returning from his ‘Jamie search’.
“Come on, I’ll take you up there. Perry is with him. I didn’t tell him you
were here yet. They think I was just checking for extra table cloths.”
They went upstairs and passed Josh and Michael coming out of their room. Mac
said hello to them on the way by but didn’t introduce them to Barry. He was
afraid Jamie would hear him. They got to the attic doorway and Mac stepped in
first.
“Jamie, there’s someone who needs to see you. Are you feeling OK?” Mac asked,
holding his hand back to keep Barry hidden momentarily.
“Yeah, I feel fine, just don’t know how to feel about there being women
outside.” Jamie said a little blue.
“Perry, didn’t you tell him they were Grayson’s parents?” Mac asked.
“Well, sure I did. Jamie doesn’t seem to think that makes any difference.”
Perry said a little amused, rubbing Jamie’s back.
He nodded to Mac and he stepped aside to allow Barry to enter the room.
“Hey, bud. How are you?” Barry started.
Jamie looked up and flushed red and buried his face in the bed spread. Barry
walked over to him and sat down beside him. He placed his hand on Jamie’s side
above his hip and rubbed him.
“It’s OK. I know you are embarrassed. You don’t need to be. I want to be here
for you. You’re my best friend and you don’t need to hide anything from me. I
told you that last night. Now get up and let me look at you.” Barry
encouraged.
Jamie turned to look up at him but kept his groin covered. Barry reached out
and pulled him up, holding him close like a small child in terror. He slowly
pulled Jamie’s hands away from his crotch. He pried his legs apart and looked.
Then he looked in Jamie’s eyes.
“I’ve seen three guys here already like this. Why are you so different? I
think it looks cool.” Barry said smiling. “There’s nothing you can do about it
now, it’s gone. Are you going to hide for the rest of your life?”
Barry’s penis was rising without his knowing it. After a few seconds it was
hard as stone. He was about 6 inches long and about an inch and a quarter
wide. It was just a little thicker than Isaac’s penis. Jamie noticed.
“You’re getting a boner from looking at me, I didn’t want that,” Jamie wailed
in dismay.
“I can’t help this thing, you know it has a brain separate from the rest of
me. I see something sexy and it responds. I don’t mean to, I’m sorry if you
are uncomfortable. I’ve been looking at naked people since I got here,” Barry
said, trying to mask the fact that he found his best friend, all-of-a-sudden,
super inviting.
Barry did have a secret he kept from Jamie. He loved the guy. He’s kept it too
himself for years. He’d dated women and men. He got along with men better. He
lived the straight life because it was easier in his trade. He longed to tell
his best friend but had never had the guts to do so. Perry noticed and stood
up. He rubbed Jamie’s shoulder and said,
“We’ll be downstairs when you feel up to coming down. I hope you will be at
the dinner we’re planning. Barry, it’s nice to meet you,” he said turning to
leave with Mac.
Perry and Mac rejoined the rest of us out on the deck. Little Joe had arrived
and he brought his older brother Forrest, Joseph’s first born from his second
marriage, with him. They had Larry and Ed’s younger brother, Tim, a boy that
looked a lot like Todd, and one of Joseph’s granddaughters, Sara, from his
first-born daughter. Ed, Larry, Brewer and Billy had just returned from the
creek when they arrived. It took Tim two seconds to be out of his clothes and
run to Ed. Ed was holding Tim and teasing his penis. All the little boys liked
Ed, and Tim was no exception. He adored his big brother. Sara turned to look
around and saw Larry and Ed, and was laughing at their bare crotches. Sara
shed her top and skirt, then folded them up to leave in the car. She had
several ropes of beads strung around her neck, hoop earrings, and her hair
tied back with a traditional clasp. She looked every bit the typical ‘Indian
Maiden’ at the age of 18. Her breasts were young and perky and she seemed as
natural in the nude as did Larry and Ed. Tim is 12 and the youngest of all
Joseph’s grandchildren. He is exactly the same size as Art at 4 feet tall and
has a very small penis and testicles. His testicles have just begun to drop,
as puberty is starting to set in but he has yet to start growing body hair.
His erection barely tips out at 2 inches. He is uncut like his brothers. His
black hair and black eyes are the difference between he and Todd. Todd has
brown eyes and dark brunette hair like Larry. Little Joe began to undress and
fold his clothes up and lay them in the car seat. Forrest looked at him and
smiled. He started undressing too. Little Joe looked at him and started
laughing.
“You don’t have to get undressed if you don’t want to. I’m sure there will be
others who keep their clothes on.” Little Joe said.
“Hey, you know I don’t give a hoot about street clothes. Besides, Pops let me
bring my ceremonial loincloth.” Forrest said, standing beside his car naked.
“Nobody wears those things anymore,” Little Joe said.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t, Medicine Man,” Forrest replied.
“I’m not the Medicine Man,” little Joe said of his brother’s endearment.
“Pops said you were. Heck, if you can get naked, I can too”, Forrest said,
laying the ceremonial loincloth in the seat and shutting the car door.
He walked around to Little Joe’s side of the car with nothing on but his
tribal necklace and wedding ring. Forrest is better hung than Little Joe; he
is uncut like him but twice as big. He can achieve 12 inches when aroused. He
is a few inches taller than Little Joe and better built. He works out often,
where Little Joe does not. He has nearly the same physique as Jim and Dan but
with darker skin and long black hair. Ed and Larry had introduced Tim to Art
and Aaron. Art was thrilled to have someone his size around. Todd ran out to
hug his daddy and received a hug from his uncle.
“How’s the arm buddy?” Little Joe asked.
“’s fine, Daddy,” replied Todd. “Doc Perry gave me dope and I don’t feel
anything.”
Little Joe looked at Forrest and they laughed. Poor Todd has had a bad weekend
so far. He was glad to see his daddy and wanted to be held.
“You’re too big to tote buddy. Come on over here and sit with me a while. Tell
me what you did while I was gone. Your mother said to call her. She wants to
know when you are coming home.” Little Joe said.
“I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here with Art and Aaron,” Todd
replied.
“Well, she has joint custody. You’re going to have to talk to her about that.
I don’t care if you stay here. I like the idea of private schooling and I want
you to have some friends and be free and comfortable with yourself. But you
have to talk to your mom. I can say things to her but she will only hear it
from you. I’m sorry but that’s the way it is,” Little Joe said.
“Is Tim going to stay here?” Todd asked.
“I don’t think so, he’s just here for a visit like Sara and Uncle Forrest. He
really misses Ed and Larry. You know that since Uncle Tram died, Larry and Ed
are his ‘dads’. Gramps doesn’t get around like he used to.” Little Joe
explained.
“Speaking of Gramps, is Joseph coming back today? I haven’t heard from him
yet,” Mac asked Little Joe, walking up to meet his newest brother. “Hi, I’m
Mac.” He said to Forrest, holding out his hand.
Forrest grabbed his hand and pulled Mac to his chest and gave him a big bear
hug, lifting him off the ground.
“Whew, friendly native, You’re going to get me all worked up!” Mac said
laughing.
“Ever since Pops told us about you, I’ve wanted to meet you.” Forrest said. “I
just knew there was someone else, all my life.”
“Well, here I am, I guess. Now you are the oldest of the boys?” Mac asked.
“Yes, except now you are.” Forrest corrected.
“Now you are not Ed and Larry’s father are you?” Mac asked.
“No, that was Tram, he died in Iraq a couple of years ago. You would have
liked him. You look an awful lot like him too, except for your eyes. His were
black.” Forrest said. “He was the middle child in our family. There’s me, then
Tullula, then there was Tram and Sally and Little Joe. Tullula is Sara’s
mother. Sara is a free spirit as you may have noticed.” Forrest said.
“Well, is Joseph going to make it today? We are nearly ready down by the
creek.” Mac asked again.
“He left on horseback before we did, I would have though he’d be here by now.”
Little Joe said.
“You don’t think something happened to him do you?” Mac asked worried.
“He insisted on riding. He has a surprise for you and horseback was the only
way to get it here,” Little Joe said a bit slyly. “He should have been here by
now. Can I get one of your horses and go look?”
“Take any one you want, take Larry too in case you need help. Do you have your
cell phone with you?” Mac asked.
“It’s in the truck, I’ll get it,” Little Joe said as he ran off toward his
truck, calling Larry to come with him on his way through the deck.
They ran to the stables and had two horses bridled and headed toward the
pasture in minutes. They went off through the pasture the way Joseph left last
Wednesday and disappeared into the woods.
“I hope he hasn’t fallen off his horse and gotten hurt. I’ve seen all the hurt
Littlefoots I can stand for one week!” Mac said, picking Todd up into his lap
and letting the boy rest his head on his shoulder.
“He probably fell asleep and his horse decided to take the scenic route,” said
Forrest, grinning. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Forrest sat down beside Mac and waited with him. Ed came to introduce Billy to
his Uncle. Forrest looked at Billy’s crotch and whistled.
“Whew, you gay boys sure know how to shock and awe, don’t you?” Forrest said
rubbing Billy’s sheath. “Doc Walker did that?”
“Yes sir,” Ed replied. “He did everyone here.”
“So when are you getting hitched?” Forrest demanded.
“Jeez Unc, we just met a few days ago. He might not be able to stand me next
week. We got to spend a little time together first!” Ed said exasperated at
his family’s insistence that he settle down. “Here, pick on Brewer. He’s
Larry’s new bed-buddy. Careful Brewer, don’t get too close. This one is a
hugger. He’s also a big ol’ matchmaker,” Ed said laughing, bringing Brewer
into the conversation.
“You can’t blame me for trying to get you hitched. I promised your Daddy I’d
see to it that you guys were happy. Besides, your Gramps thinks that’s what
you need, and you know he’s always right. You know that you guys are going to
have to take over for us old folks one day and you need someone to be a
helpmate to you. You can’t go through life alone. I would never have made
anything of myself, if it weren’t for your Aunt Dottie.” Forrest said.
“I know Unc, but I want to finish school first.” Ed said.
“That’s right, you need to finish school,” Mac said. “Plenty of time to get
married. You’re not even close to 30 yet, and you still have college,” he said
smiling.
Sounds of horses could be heard through the trees and a few minutes later, a
band of mustangs were seen breaking the tree line with Joseph, Little Joe and
Larry riding point behind them. They rode them up to the lower pasture gate at
the forest trailhead where they’d just come from. Larry jumped off to get the
gate while Little Joe and Joseph kept the herd from scattering. The gate flew
open and the herd ran off to the far corner, joining up with the pregnant
mares Ed and Larry had let loose. Joseph rode up to the yard gate with a young
black stallion tied to his saddle. The young stud was whinnying after the
mares and pawing the ground while he got off to tie his horse. His old mare
was trying to kick the young stud for pulling on her. Larry and Little Joe
rode up to help the old man with his horse.
“Take him to the stable and lock his ass up, he nearly pulled my arm off. Get
my saddle off that mare and turn her loose. She’s Mac’s now. I need a drink.
Wipe that saddle off before you put it away now, boys.” Joseph said to Larry
and Little Joe, holding on to the fence, his back given out.
“We were a little worried, Joseph. I’m glad you are here. Come sit down and
let me get you something cool to drink.” Mac said helping him through the gate
and up to the first table.
“Make sure it has whiskey in it, my bones are aching.” Joseph said. “Forrest,
you loose something?” he said, grinning at Forrest’s nakedness.
“Well, Pops, when in Rome….” Forrest said smiling.
“Somebody get me a camera, Dottie would love this.” Joseph said grinning.
Todd ran over to his Grandfather and Perry came over to say hello, bringing a
new bottle of aged whiskey to sit on the table. Tim ran over to hug Joseph
too, bringing a smile to the old man’s face seeing the boy naked and happy. He
sat there and looked out at the herd of horses he’d just brought in. An hour
and a half of working them across the national forest, was nearly too much for
him, but it was something he needed to do. Mac was his son and these horses
represented some of the oldest strains of original wild blood known to the
tribe. It was his birthright to own some of them. He sat there with his two
youngest grandsons tucked under his arms and smiled. Mac came back with two
tall glasses of ice and a bottle of soda. He knew Joseph would not want the
soda but he would. He was not accustomed to liquor straight out of the bottle.
“How’s the arm u-s-di?” Joseph asked Todd.
“It’s fine Gramps. Doc Perry said I had to get stapled but it comes out
Wednesday. Can I stay here and go to school? Daddy said I have to ask Mamma.
Why do I always have to ask her for everything?” Todd complained.
“She got custody of your behind boy. She’ll cause a lot of trouble for your
Dad if you ignore her. You’ll be old enough in a few months to make up your
own mind. You just have to be patient. Hey Timmy, you like it here, I see.”
Joseph said.
“I like not needing clothes! I want to stay here too! I hate school.” Tim
said.
“Well, they have school here too, it just might be more fun.” Joseph said.
“What’s with the horses, Joseph?” Mac asked.
“They are yours. It’s part of the tribe’s offering to you as a member. It’s
your heritage and birthright to control some of the bloodlines. I brought 13
mares, all covered by three different stallions. The young stallion is from a
distant band. I traded for him a couple of months ago. You can see I’ve been
breeding duns and black. You might get a few bays out of this year’s foals but
they should all be duns, maybe a solid black or two. I hope I’m around to see
what you do with them.” Joseph said wearily.
It was a long ride and he felt so tired. He propped himself up and remained at
the table. There was too much to do and say before sleeping.
“I don’t know anything about mustangs. I know something about Thoroughbreds
and Quarter Horses but that’s all. Are they going to get along with those
bigger horses?” Mac asked.
“These horses are more hardy than those high-end horses Luis left you. All of
them are registered to the American Indian Horse Registry. They are considered
pure blood and any of their crosses or foals can be registered too. Their
papers and breeding records are in that satchel there. All those mares will
have double “O” foals this season. That young stallion is also registered. Any
of his foals can be registered, even if you cross him on some of your older
horses. They won’t be double “O’s” but the Registry will take them because he
is. Larry and Ed can help you get acquainted with the Registry. Little Joe
said he’d be glad to teach you all he knows too. He’s better at the corporate
end anyway. Larry is the best for training; Ed’s a better showman. He doesn’t
look the part but there are a lot of open shows you can put these horses in.
The Registry is growing and who knows, your farm might be able to help with
that growth.” Joseph said, taking a sip of his whiskey.
“I grew up riding dressage and hunter jumper. Do these horses work well in
that arena?” Mac asked.
“Son, these horses are the base blood of most of your American breeds. They
are in every venue, even racing. You can breed that stallion to some of your
Thoroughbreds and have them Jockey Club registered, if they qualify. You can
take a Jockey Club horse and breed to a Quarter Horse, Paint or Thoroughbred.
There are a lot of reasons to keep the wild blood alive. They date back to the
Arabians and Spanish Barbs that came over with Columbus from Spain. This breed
is more valuable to the world of horses than most folks know. There are always
reasons to go back to the drawing board. These horses are used to fix genetic
defects in some of the most valuable bloodlines. They have been imported all
over the world for that. They are nature made. Man had very little to do with
their creation. Only the strongest survived in the wild when the west was
young. They are hardy, easy-keepers. Everybody knows the story of the Mustang.
Watch some TV and sooner or later you’ll see a program or two. I wish I had
time to teach you, but I don’t. I’m going to have to depend on your brothers
for that.” Joseph said with a tear in his eye.
Forrest was listening to his father and got up to come sit by him. Mac leaned
over the table and held his hand. It was shaking. He was indeed very tired.
“Joseph, why don’t you come inside and lie down a while. That was a long ride.
There is still some time before lunch. An hour in a warm bed will do you
wonders,” Mac insisted.
He and Forrest got up and helped the old man to his feet. They got him to the
house as Larry and Little Joe were coming back from the stable. Todd and Tim
wanted to go upstairs with Joseph but he told them to stay outside and play.
They went over to Larry and Ed. Sara picked Tim up and held him on her hip as
she talked to Janet and Shirley. They could hear the young stallion screaming
from the house.
“He’s not to fond of getting separated from all that pussy is he?” Joseph
laughed.
Mac and Forrest took him up to his old room and helped him pull his boots off.
They got him in the bed and covered up. Forrest left but Mac stayed with him
until he fell asleep.
“I’m too dirty to be in such a fine bed…..” Joseph said, trailing off.
Mac just smiled and started to tear up. He could see him drifting off and not
waking in the back of his mind. He only just met his real father and now he
was loosing him too. It was just a feeling he had. He cried silently and
stayed with the old man until he was sure he was soundly asleep. He went down
the hall to his room and shut the door. He went into the bathroom, and closed
that door, and then turned on the shower. He stepped inside and cried like a
baby.
Jamie and Barry had heard the voices downstairs. Jamie had recovered from his
crying. Barry convinced him to let it all go. He told Jamie that he wasn’t
going anywhere and he wanted to be with him. He told Jamie of his desires and
the truth he’d held in for so long.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me? I wouldn’t have shunned you. You’re my best
friend. I don’t care who you sleep with. Granted, I don’t know if I would have
slept with you back then but I would have still been your friend.” Jamie said.
“I was too scared to tell anyone. You know how construction guys are. I was
afraid they’d stop calling me for subs.” Barry said. “You were the only guy I
ever had desires for. It didn’t start out that way. It just happened over the
years, after we became friends. I don’t know if there was something that
attracted me to you in the first place, but we got along so well, I didn’t
want to do anything to risk our friendship.”
“Well, I forgive you for not trusting me if you can forgive me. I was so sure
none of my friends would want to be around me after I got cut up.” Jamie said.
“I don’t care what your body looks like. You’re still you and that’s what I
want around. You know I’d do anything for you. You’re the brother I never had
and always wanted. It would kill me to know you didn’t want me in your life. I
was so miserable this past week. I had to come out here and make you see my
side. I was so scared to do it but I had to.” Barry said with a tear in his
eye. “When the company folded, I thought that was it. You said there was work
to be done here, and I thought that, well, maybe I could help. I’m about to
loose everything too. They went 5 weeks without paying any of us, but kept
promising that they would, to keep us on the job. Then we got the news from
one of the suppliers who said he’d been given a letter that the company filed
for bankruptcy. They owe everybody around town and no one is getting a dime.
We’ll never get our money. I’m going to have to let my apartment go. I owe
rent now and all the bills too. I’m broke.” Barry complained.
“Well, I know Mac wants a lot done in a short amount of time. There are a lot
of hands around here but none of them know anything about construction.” Jamie
said. “They sure have been good to me. All the boys are friendly and helpful.
There’s a couple who kind-of get on my nerves but they were only trying to
teach me some new tricks.”
“What do you mean, ‘new tricks’?” Barry asked.
“You know, about sex. I kind-of have limited options now.” Jamie said,
flushing a little.
“Are you telling me you have busted your cherry?” Barry asked with a twinkle
in his eyes, trying not to laugh.
“If you say one word about it to anyone, I’ll wring your neck!” Jamie said.
“I wouldn’t betray you. I would like to teach you a few things myself,” Barry
said leaning closer to his best friend.
“I have done a lot of things these last couple of days that I would never have
done if I hadn’t ended up here in this situation.” Jamie said. “Now I got a
notion about what prisoners feel like when they get locked up. When you have
no other options, you go to plan ‘B’. Friday night I got a dildo stuck up my
ass and a vibrator too. I even kissed a guy too. Yesterday, I let Isaac, one
of the smaller boys, fuck me. I never knew that a guy could climax like that.
I woke up this morning feeling like I had a hard-on and blew a wad just from
rubbing where my dick used to be. I’m still not used to the guy-on-guy thing
but, with you, I think it might be different. I love you like a brother too.”
Jamie said looking into Barry’s eyes.
Barry leaned in and kissed Jamie softly. He sat back and looked at Jamie.
Jamie smiled and pushed Barry down to the bed. He lay on him and kissed him
back, harder. Then he rolled over and started laughing.
“What’s wrong?” Barry asked.
“You need to shave.” Jamie said, laughing.
Jamie reached over to the nightstand and got some of the boys’ lube. He rubbed
some of it on Barry’s erection and lay back on the bed. He had limited
experience and didn’t know what else to do. Barry took the queue and settled
over Jamie. Jamie lifted his legs and Barry positioned his penis at Jamie’s
sphincter. He slowly pushed himself into Jamie a little at a time until he was
completely inside him. He rolled over on his side, bringing Jamie with him. He
kissed Jamie deeply and worked his penis against Jamie’s prostate. He kept
going until Jamie climaxed. He stopped his motions and kissed Jamie again. He
was unconcerned about his own climax. He just wanted Jamie to have one. Just
being here with him was enough. He thought he’d lost him. He pulled his still
hard penis out of Jamie and sat up.
“You didn’t finish.” Jamie said.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s more time. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s go
outside. It’s a thrill to go outside naked. Maybe we can do it outside
somewhere.” Barry said.
“I know just the place.” Jamie said smiling.
They got up and went downstairs. They saw Allan and Dan coming out of our room
on the way down from the attic. Allan had an amused look on his face. Dan just
looked bewildered. Allan’s penis was flaccid and red looking. Dan was erect.
“Barry, these guys are Allan and Dan. They’ve been real nice to me this week.
Dan’s brother David lives here with his lover, Artie. Allan is a Realtor and
Dan is a truck driver.” Jamie said.
“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Barry Thompson. I’m a carpenter. Me and this guy go
way back,” Barry said.
“Oh, so you must be the guy who’s going to build the bunkhouse,” Dan said,
shaking his hand.
“Well, I haven’t talked about it with the owners yet, but I’m willing.” Barry
replied, a little confused.
“Oh, I thought they said they’d hired someone already.” Dan said with a frown.
“I think someone has been playing matchmaker again,” Allan said smiling.
“What do you mean?” Jamie asked.
“I think Mac and Perry were sort-of counting on Barry staying after you saw
him. Mac’s a hopeless romantic and Perry isn’t much better.” Allan said,
smiling at Jamie. “Perry said there was something in your voice that convinced
him to get you out here without Jamie knowing.” Allan said to Barry, smiling.
“This place is a ‘Payton Place’ for sure!” Jamie said exasperated.
“Well, I’m glad he let me talk my way out here. I don’t think I could have
gone another week alone, the way things were. Now I feel like trying to
conquer the world again,” Barry said.
“Me too,” Allan said jabbing Dan’s stomach.
“What have you two been doing?” Jamie asked.
“Teaching the hulk here how to suck cock,” Allan said laughing.
“Jeez, Allan!” Dan exclaimed.
“Ain’t no secrets here, Barry. Better get used to it if you are going to stay
for a while,” Jamie advised.
“Guess you will need a larger bed now,” Allan said, smiling at Jamie.
He flushed but smiled and said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“How come you got to teach Dan about cock?” Barry asked Allan, unabashedly.
“He was a virgin until Thursday night.” Allan said snickering and ducking.
“Yeah, yeah, get it all out. It’s fun learning new stuff, ain’t it, Jamie?”
Dan asked looking around like there might be others in hearing range.
“I feel you…there ain’t no telling either. Every time I think I got this place
figured out, I get another surprise.” Jamie said shaking his head.
The four of them went on downstairs as Mac was making himself presentable.
He’d had his cry and a cool shower. He had guests to tend to. He opened the
door after he heard the 4 men walk down the stairs. He smiled a bit at the
thought of Jamie and Barry getting together and smiled to himself about the
comment he heard Allan say about him being a matchmaker. This was Perry’s
decision, but he went along with it. He went into Joseph’s room quietly to
check on him. He was snoring lightly, so he closed the door and went
downstairs. He’d let him sleep for a while longer. There were still a few
things that needed doing before the dinner party could start.
Mac hit the deck just as Steve and David were loading up the tailgate of
Frank’s truck with tables and chairs. Larry and Brewer were stacking them.
Janet had brought her truck around and Grayson and Michael were putting boxes
of food and utensils in the bed. Marty and Isaac were coming back from taking
boxes out and asked Mac about the ice cream churn.
“You know, I haven’t seen that thing in a while. Was it in the attic when you
boy’s cleaned it out?” Mac asked.
“I don’t remember seeing one. There is plenty of ice in the freezer and it
won’t take long to whip up a batch of cream. Get together with the other boys
and go hunt for it,” Mac said, trying to hide his feelings of remorse and
foreboding.
“Hey, do you need my truck for anything?” Little Joe asked.
Well, we have one for the tables and one for the food, maybe the boys could
ride in the back of yours. It’s not a long walk, but Joseph will need a ride,
so that would be nice if you don’t mind.” Mac said, his lip trembling.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Your eyes are all red.” Little Joe asked.
“I don’t know. I sat there watching Joseph in the bed a while and I just got
the most awful feeling. I had a vision of him dying in his sleep. There’s so
much to say and do. We need to make the most of what time is left. I just met
him and now I feel like I’m about to loose him,” Mac said with tears streaming
down his cheeks.
“Oh, he’s just tired from the trip. He’s still got a few kicks left in him.
Don’t worry, you’ll see. He’ll get up from his nap and be rearing to go,”
Little Joe said. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but the tribe wants to
meet you. They are holding a special meeting next Saturday. You are now
considered Joseph’s oldest son and like it or not, they want you to take your
place in the tribe. Pops will be there and so will Forrest. I’ll be there but
I’m the youngest, so I won’t be at the table.” Little Joe said.
“But I thought your guys voted on council members?” Mac said.
“We do, but this meeting is about bringing you into the tribe, and taking your
rightful place as first born in our family.” Little Joe replied.
“But I don’t speak the language or understand the traditions,” Mac said.
“It’s OK, there’s a few others in your shoes. Everyone speaks English.” Little
Joe replied.
Little Joe put his arm around Mac and led him over to the table where Forrest
and Todd were sitting. He told Forrest to tell Mac about the meeting and went
to get his truck bed cleaned out.
Jake Jackson and Tony Talbot
A car was coming down the lane. As it drove up into view, we could see it was
a Sheriff’s cruiser. There were two occupants in the car as it pulled up into
the side yard and parked under one of the trees. Tony Talbot got out first and
then Sheriff Jake Jackson got out of the driver’s side. Sheriff Jackson spoke
to Tony and he nodded. Tony started to undress, taking his sidearm and holster
off, then his tie and turning around, to sit and remove his shoes. He removed
his shirt and pants, folding them up and laying them neatly on the rear seat.
Tony was naked, with just his sunglasses on, in minutes. Tony had a heavy
metal ring around his genitals. His penis was starting to rise in the fresh
air. His testicles were a bit small compared to his moderate penis. He was
circumcised and had a PA. His physique was about the same as Allan’s. He
worked out but was not built like a bull. Sheriff Jackson walked around the
car and put his hand on Tony’s shoulder and guided him toward the deck. Perry
saw them first,
“Hey there, Jake! Glad you could make it! I see you brought young Tony from
the other night. How are you?” Perry said reaching for Tony’s hand, then
Jake’s.
“How are you, Perry. I couldn’t ignore an invite from Mac; you know how that
would go. I discovered this young man has a crush to explore. He’s been pining
around since Friday night. I’m going to leave him with you for a few days.”
Sheriff Jackson replied. “He’s going on ‘Medical leave’.” He said with a wink
at Tony.
“Ah…what did you have in mind?” Perry inquired.
“Oh, a total clean-up I think, but you can talk to him about that,” Jake
replied.
“Oh? Is that what you want Tony?” Perry asked.
“I guess so, sir. What ever Sheriff Jackson wants is fine by me.” Tony
replied.
“Well, why don’t you go on over and get reacquainted with everyone while I
have a little talk with the Boss,” Perry suggested to Tony, turning his
attentions to Jake.
Tony saw Little Joe cleaning out his pickup and walked over to him. Little Joe
jumped down and shook his hand, admiring his physique. Little Joe swept the
rest of the dust out of his truck and they walked up to the deck together.
“He wants to be altered? Why?” Perry asked.
“He hasn’t stopped talking since the other night! He said you asked him if he
were gay and wanted to know all about what you guys do out here and how we
knew each other and on and on. I didn’t get home until 1:AM! He’s been walking
around with a boner since! He likes some little guy named Joe. Which one is
Joe?” Jake asked.
“The guy with long black hair talking to Mac is Little Joe. He’s Mac’s
youngest brother. He’s ‘Little Joe’ because his father is ‘Big Joe’ but we
just call him Joseph. The older guy standing behind them is Forrest, he’s also
one of Mac’s brothers. Forrest is four years younger than Mac. Little Joe is
about 10 years and the youngest in the family.” Perry said. “So, why do you
want that young man altered?”
“I think it would be good for him and I know he wants it too. Look at him,
he’s another Mark for sure. Just thinking about mutilating himself gets his
rocks off.” Jake said.
“Well, why don’t you leave him out here a few days and let me see what he
‘needs’. I’ll put my trainers on him and make a decision. I’m sure that
whatever we do to him will be exciting. If he wants to be nullified, then
we’ll smooth him up. What do you think of Billy over there?” Perry asked.
“Isn’t that the kid from your office?” Jake asked.
“Yep. I cut him last week. He squats to piss. You can see his penis if he gets
really aroused. Looks like a dog doesn’t he?” Perry asked.
“Damn sure does. What made you think of that?” Jake asked.
“He’s a bottom and also another Mark,” Perry replied. “I got him to move out
here to keep one of my trainers company when he isn’t working. His surgical
skills will come in handy too. I’ll still take him to the office but he’s a
pet now and not really an employee.” Perry said smiling. “He would have let me
do anything, even nullify him if I wanted to.”
“I see that in Tony. He’d probably do anything I said to do whether he got
paid or not. Not bragging or anything, he just needed a good role model, and I
liked him. He’s 30 years old and still looking for Daddy. He’s cute. Kind of
reminds you of Maxwell Caulfield doesn’t he?” Jake asked.
“Now that you mention it, yes. The hair isn’t the same but he’s a dead ringer
in body and face. Ever watch Dynasty?” Perry asked.
“Yeah, that’s the era I’m talking about.” Jake said. “Well, I’ll leave him out
here and you just surprise me. I want him waxed for sure no matter what else
you do.” Jake said.
“Well, come let me introduce you to everyone.” Perry suggested.
They walked on up to the house and Perry started introducing Sheriff Jackson
around. Jake actually knew Janet. She’d worked for him a few years back.
“Hey, how are you?” Jake said hugging her neck. “How have you been? Are you
liking the State Patrol?”
“Well, we’ve been just great. I love the Patrol. Wouldn’t trade my job for
anything. This is Shirley. We came out here to see her kid, Grayson. Come here
boy and say hi to Sheriff Jackson,” Janet said to Grayson.
Sheriff Jackson shook Shirley’s hand while Grayson stopped what he was doing
and trotted over to his ‘Mama Janet’. Jake looked at the boy and whistled.
“Whew, Janet, you guys have been feeding his kid too much fertilizer!” Jake
said of Grayson’s lengthy penis.
“Naw, just refrigerators.” Janet laughed.
Grayson blushed a bit but smiled when Jake examined his penis and lack of
scrotum and testicles. Jake picked it up by it’s tip and lifted it up like it
was a dead snake on the road.
“When did you get cut son?” Jake asked.
“Last week, sir.” Grayson replied politely, ignoring the fact that a stranger
was handling his penis in front of family.
“And who is this?” Jake asked of Marty, stepping in to reclaim ‘his’ penis,
having spied someone touching Grayson.
“This is Marty. He’s part of the reason we had to come out today. We wanted to
see what or rather who Grayson has been into,” Shirley said laughing.
“How you doing young man. I’m Sheriff Jake Jackson.” Jake said extending his
hand to Marty.
Marty shook his hand and leaned into Grayson. Marty wasn’t too fond of law
officers. He’d seen enough of them at the biker bar.
“I like the studs there kid. They look really interesting,” Jake said.
“Thank you sir,” Marty replied, looking down at the man rubbing his crotch.
“Well, you two go back and finish what Mac wanted you to do, I smell food and
I’m getting hungry,” Janet said, sensing the boy’s discomfort. “Sheriff, how
long have you know Doctor Walker?”
“Oh, Perry and I go way back. We used to run around together in high school.
We were a couple of wild boys. We’re lucky to be alive today with all the
stunts we pulled.” Jake said. “I went into the service and he went into
college. I became a deputy and eventually Sheriff and he became a surgeon. I
introduced him to Mac. Mac came to work for the county and was the cutest kid
I’d seen in a long time. I’m surprised he’s still an EMT.”
“Well, he won’t be much longer. He’s going to be a stay-at-home-Dad for a
while,” Perry said.
“When did he decide that?” Mac asked, stepping in on the conversation.
“Well, I figured you would want to what with the kids and all,” Perry said.
“Well, I haven’t really thought about it but you know, I would like to be
‘Mister Mom’ for a while.” Mac said smiling.
“I know what you mean. When I had Grayson, I didn’t want to go anywhere
either. I didn’t go back to work until he went into kindergarten, and then I
only worked half a day.” Shirley said.
“Well, all these boys are old enough to be left alone with minor supervision,
but I want to teach home economics!” Mac said smiling. “Jake, we’re starting
our own school out here. We’re building a little schoolhouse just like the one
that used to be here over 100 years ago. It’s going to be right over there at
the end of the yard. We’re building a bunkhouse too. Joseph, my biological
father, is helping one of the boys’ draw a picture of it. He used to live in
it.” Mac said.
“You don’t say. Well, I wish you all the best. These are some cute kids. I’m
glad you got them. Any kid would be grateful to have parents like you and
Perry.” Jake said.
“We’ve met the teacher. He’s a real sweetheart. All the boys love him to
death. He just holds up his hand and they are instantly silent. He’s amazing.
That’s him over there,” Shirley said pointing to Mark.
“Mark’s your new teacher?” Jake asked surprised.
“Yes, he got his certificate last week. He was supposed to start at the middle
school, but I stole him away from them.” Mac said beaming.
“Well, I’ll be…I never pictured Mark as a teacher. He is fun to be around and
full of surprises. I bet he’ll make learning fun for the boys.” Jake said.
“We hope so. Grayson is an “A” student. I wouldn’t want him to go downhill,”
Shirley said.
Mac looked at her in shock.
“Are you saying Grayson can stay out here?” Mac asked.
“I love my son. I know he is a little young, but I also know he’s in love. I
think this place is a safe place and I’d rather he be out here than in town
cruising. Besides, I like the idea of home school. Private schooled students
always do better than public schooled students. Statistics prove it over and
over. If going to school in the nude will increase his chances of going on to
college, I’m all for it. I just hope we can come to see him now and then.”
Shirley said.
“You can come anytime you want! Marty can go to your house on the weekends if
he wants to. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, but he’s behind in
school and desperately needs to catch up. Grayson will be good for that. Marty
wants to learn when Grayson is around. Oh, he’s going to die when you tell
him. He still thinks he’s going home this afternoon.” Mac said almost in
horror.
“Well, we thought we’d surprise him. Janet has a mean streak.” Shirley said
smiling.
“Oh, I just like to see his expressions when I pull one over on him,” Janet
said laughing. “Now don’t go telling him until the last minute. We brought a
few things from home we thought he might need. Shirl packed a bunch of his
clothes but I doubt he’ll ever wear any of them. We have his PC and his
teddybear in the back seat.” Janet said.
“I know, we can put his teddybear on Marty’s bed and just leave it. When he
finds it, getting ready to ‘leave’, he’ll know something’s up!” Mac said.
“That is such a neat idea. Let’s go get his stuff.” Shirley said, snickering
about their plan.
“Wait, let’s send them on an errand to get rid of them first.” Mac suggested.
He asked Grayson and Marty to go see if the other boys had found the ice cream
churn in any of the sheds. Then he and Shirley grabbed Grayson’s things and
rushed them upstairs into the attic.
“Oh, this is darling, what you’ve done up here.” Shirley said of the attic.
“Well, the boys decorated it. It was full of old junk from my parents and
ancestors or rather their ancestors. None of it means anything to me anymore
now that I discovered my whole life has been a lie.” Mac said.
“I heard some of that outside today. I could not even begin to comprehend how
you must have felt. I’m glad you get at least some chance of knowing your
family. Is you father going to stay here now?” Shirley asked.
“No, he has a life at the reservation and needs to be there. I will go over
there once a week from now on. I want to know as many of my real family as I
can. Most of them will not leave the reservation. Joseph used to live here
when I was born. He’s been keeping an eye on me from the woods all these
years. It makes me so sad to know that he had to endure such pain from my
folks. My dad practically stole me from him when I was a baby. My mother
couldn’t have children and she used to baby sit me after my real mother died
in childbirth. She begged Joseph to let her raise me and he thought he was
doing the best thing for me since he had to be in the fields all day. My
father refused to allow him to have contact with me when I started talking. I
didn’t see him for 40 years. I am getting used to the idea but I’m also afraid
I am running out of time. He’s not in the best of health and he won’t see a
doctor.” Mac said.
Shirley was getting the PC set up on a table and Mac put Grayson’s teddybear
on Marty’s pillows. The got his clothes put away and shoes under the bed and
sat down a minute.
“Well, you just have to make the most of every minute that you get. Having his
other son’s here is a blessing.” Shirley said.
“There is one I never got to meet. He died in Iraq. His son’s are our horse
trainers now,” Mac said.
“Oh what a cute little chest. Is it a hope chest?” Shirley asked.
“Why, yes it is. It was my mothers. I used it a while but I gave it to Hank.
He and James are getting married next month. Jim and Jacob are too. I was
thinking about having the ceremonies down by the creek where we’re having
lunch today. It’s lovely spot.” Mac said.
Shirley picked up the chest and heard the rings sliding around in it. She
opened it up to see.
“Oh my, these are beautiful.” Shirley said.
“They were my parents. I was up here with all the boys before the hearing and
I put them on their fingers. They fit perfectly so I told them it was a sign.
They’ve been best friends and lovers for years. They are sweet boys. They need
someone to count on that’s all.” Mac said tearing up.
“Oh, now don’t you start crying, it’s contagious.” Shirley said. “Come on,
let’s get out of here before we get caught.”
They got up and went back downstairs. Mac peeked in on Joseph and he was
stirring. He motioned to Shirley that he’d be down in a minute and went into
the room. He sat on the bed and waited for Joseph to regain his senses. He was
a little disoriented waking up in this particular room. He used to live in it
43 years ago before Mac was born in it. Mac leaned over him and rubbed his
chest.
“Joseph, wake up….We are about to go to lunch. I think you might have a new
son-in-law. Are you feeling up to going outside now?” Mac asked.
“U-we-tsi”, Joseph said, brushing Mac’s face, looking around and realizing
where he was. “Help me up. I forgot where I was for a moment.”
“Are you feeling any better?” Mac implored.
“I feel fine. Just old. A nap was the ticket. I don’t feel like riding a horse
back home, that’s for sure.” Joseph said, laughing softly, then coughing a
little.
“Would you like me to get you anything? How about some Tylenol?” Mac offered.
“What’s that?” Joseph asked.
Mac was surprised he’d never heard of the over-the-counter remedy.
“It’s a very good pain reliever like aspirin, except it doesn’t upset your
stomach. I don’t think I should give you anything else until I check your
heart.” Mac said.
“If you want to, go ahead. It’s still ticking. That Tylenol stop the aches?”
Joseph asked.
“It should help greatly with your old joints. It’d be nice to be able to walk
around without stiffening pain wouldn’t it?” Mac asked.
“OK, if you insist. I’ll try it. Whiskey does the same thing,” Joseph said
grinning.
“Yes, maybe, but you can stay coherent and enjoy the company with Tylenol.”
Mac said rising to go get a bottle of the tablets.
He helped Joseph stand and got him into the bathroom and went down the hall to
his room for the drug. He came back and Joseph was at the door of the
bathroom, holding on to the frame. His face was contorted and he was sweating.
“What’s wrong?” Mac asked.
“It hurts to ‘go’ sometimes.” Joseph said.
“You are going to be checked out right now. There is no need for you to go
around in pain all the time with a Doctor in the house. Come on, let’s get you
into the clinic and I’ll go get Perry.” Mac said as he helped Joseph to the
chair by the bed.
He went down the hall to Sam and Mike’s room and woke them up.
“I need some help with Joseph. It’s time to get up for the party anyway.” Mac
said to the groggy eunuchs.
They got up and came in and helped Mac get Joseph downstairs and into the
office clinic. Mac went outside to find Perry. He was talking to Tony, Jake
and Little Joe.
“Perry, Joseph needs you to look at him a minute.” Mac said, turning to go
back inside.
Little Joe looked worried and followed them. Forrest heard Mac say something
about Joseph needing something and went in also.
“I don’t need a crowd to look at my ass. I just need to pee, that’s all.”
Joseph said.
“I think I know what you need. You guys go on and give the man some privacy.”
Perry said.
Mac didn’t move. Forrest and Little Joe went back outside.
“OK, when’s the last time you had your prostate checked?” Perry asked.
“Never.” Joseph said defiantly. “I’ve never been to a doctor.”
“Well, you’re probably swollen and it’s not wanting to work. How long has this
been going on?” Perry asked.
“About a year now.” Joseph said.
“Well, here, take these and these. You’ll feel better in a little while. Now
stand up and drop your pants.” Perry ordered, handing Mac some water-pills for
the old man to take.
Joseph stood up with Mac’s help and unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall to
the floor. Perry reached behind Joseph’s testicles and felt his prostate
without probing him.
“Well, you are enlarged. It’s pretty common for someone your age. Those pills
are really effective and should give you relief in a jiffy. Now, this won’t
hurt a bit.” Perry said as he stuck the Hypo in Joseph’s groin and pulled the
trigger. “Mac why don’t you stay in here with him a while. That dose should
relieve his pain and the pills should give him some flow in about 15-20
minutes. He might need help getting to the bathroom.”
Perry went back outside to two worried sons.
“He’s OK, just a swollen prostate. He should be OK in and little while. We
really should try to get him to town and get checked out. He could have
cancer. That thing is pretty large. It’s pretty common at his age, so don’t
get all worked up.” He said to Forrest and Little Joe.
Taylor Lott drove up and James and Hank came running from the old tractor shed
when the saw his truck.
“Hey dude, glad you could make it.” Hank said grabbing the boy and hugging
him.
Taylor smiled and looked a bit startled but was getting used to all the
touching these guys like to do.
“I have to be back at church by 6, guys. I can’t stay but a few hours.” Taylor
said.
“Well, let’s get you undressed and get dirty!” James said.
This time, Taylor left his clothes in his truck. Mac stepped to the porch and
told Perry to take everyone down to the creek. Larry had found the ice cream
churn in the pile of old junk out in the shed and brought it in. Mac promised
to make up a batch of cream while he was waiting on Joseph. He told Larry to
go get an extra cooler and take all the ice with him.
“Oh, don’t forget the rock salt,” Mac said running behind Larry going out the
door, tucking it under his arm.
Art, Aaron, Tim and Todd jumped in the back of Little Joe’s truck with
Forrest. Larry, Brewer, Billy and Ed jumped in behind them with the ice.
Forrest made the smaller boys sit on the bed floor. Tony got into the cab with
Little Joe. Sara, Grayson and Marty rode with Shirley and Janet inside the cab
holding food, while Olin and Mica, and Randy and Isaac rode in the back with
Jamie and Barry and Little Bit. David rode in Steve and Frank’s truck with
them and I rode in Dan’s with he and Allan. Jim and Jacob took Jacob’s car and
their boys held food in the back seat. Josh was joking about sticking his dick
in the potato salad so Michael could lick it off.
“You stick that thing in that salad after I spent most of the morning making
it, and you just might end up leaving it in that salad buster!” Jacob called
from the front, looking at him in the rear-view mirror.
James and Hank rode with Taylor in his truck, Matt and Mark rode on his
tailgate with Sam and Mike up in the bed against the wheel-wells. Perry and
Jake rode down in Jake’s cruiser.
Mac was sitting in the kitchen waiting on Joseph. He’d whipped up the batch of
cream and was thinking about the vision. After a while, Joseph called Mac into
the bathroom. He had some blood in his urine and was concerned.
“That’s normal due to the drugs. There is some bleeding once in a while. It’s
because your prostate is being forced open and it doesn’t want to. Sort-of
like a sinus pill makes your nose open up when you have a stuffy nose.” Mac
said, trying to minimize his fears.
“Well, I’ve never taken any of that stuff either. I feel much better. The pain
is gone. How long do those ‘water-pills’ work?” Joseph asked.
“About 4 hours, I think. Perry will make sure you don’t have to suffer in
pain. You just do what he says.” Mac said. “You want to go down to the creek
now?”
“Yes, let’s go. There’s plenty of trees that need watering if I need ‘em.”
Joseph said smiling, relieved of his pain for once in months.
“I can’t believe you went this long without going to see a doctor,” Mac said.
“It’s just not my custom, son. I know, medical magic has saved a lot of lives,
but we believe in living better lives than most Americans do. Our people have
their own ways. I hope you get a chance to learn something from your brothers
about that.” Joseph said as he sat down in Mac’s car.
“Well, I know a little about native medicine. I know Saw Palmetto is good for
your prostate. Why haven’t you been taking any of that?” Mac asked.
“I’m stubborn and it’s a lot of effort to collect.” Joseph said smiling.
“Whiskey is the only medicine I’ve ever really taken.”
“Well, whiskey is white man’s poison.” Mac said, looking at him sternly.
“We all have vices, u-we-tsi.” Joseph said.
“What is ‘u-we-tsi’?” Mac asked.
“Son.” Joseph said smiling at him.
Mac smiled and looked at the road. He liked the sound of that word. They
pulled up to the clearing by the creek and the big boys were helping Steve and
Frank set tables up while Sam and Mike pulled out all the chairs. David and I
were getting wood together with Janet and Barry for a fire. It was a warm day
but the boys wanted a fire. Perry and Jim were pulling the coolers out of the
trucks. Allan and Dan were helping Shirley and Sara put tablecloths and
utensils on the tables that the boys had set up. Forrest, Jamie and Little Joe
had taken the 4 smallest boys off down to the water’s edge. Little Bit was
poking her nose into every crack and crevice, following her ‘daddy’
everywhere. The little boys ran back up to the clearing when they saw Joseph
and Mac. Jake and Tony were sitting on the tailgate of Taylor’s truck talking
to him. Tony knows his older brothers. The boy was horrified and begged Tony
not to tell anyone about him being out here. They were trying to convince him
that his nudity and fling with James and Hank would not be found out. Tony
rubbed Taylor’s glans for effect. The boy was erect and embarrassed about it.
Tony was too and spread his legs.
“Hey, you aren’t the only one that can’t stand it. I got to deal with this
thing 24/7. I wish it would just stay small.” Tony said.
“You do? I thought I was the only one.” Taylor said. “I hate it when I get
hard. I wish it would just stay soft all the time.”
“You don’t like to use it?” Jake asked.
“I have, and it’s OK, but it feels much better getting fucked and sucked. I
don’t need to get hard for that.” Taylor said.
“I hear you,” Tony said. “I like the feelings mine gives me but I don’t like
it when it’s hard. I’d rather lay there and let someone else do all the work!”
he said laughing.
“Yeah, me too.” Taylor said grinning.
“Hey how is Trevor doing? Does he work for your dad like Travis? I know I
haven’t seen him much since high school.” Tony asked.
“Trevor is finishing up his Masters degree. He hasn’t been home much since he
left. I’ll be glad when gets through. I miss him. He’s my favorite.” Taylor
said.
“What about Toby, what’s he doing?” Tony asked.
“He left for college last fall. He’s home most weekends. He’s a butt-head. I
get a lot of crap from him. He always introduces me as his baby sister and
always tells me how pretty I look.” Taylor said.
“Well, that’s what big brothers do sometimes.” Jake said, studying the
beautiful boy through his dark glasses. “Why is Trevor your favorite?”
“He always took up for me. He let me sleep with him when I was little and got
scared at night.” Taylor said.
“Ah, so he’s kind-of like your second Dad, huh?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. He took me to all my little league games when dad couldn’t.
He was always proud of me and made me feel good no matter what I did.” Taylor
said.
Tony smiled. “Next time Trevor comes home, tell him I said to say hello.”
“Sure will. I better go help James and Hank.” Taylor said and ran over to his
new friends.
Jake and Tony knew something Taylor didn’t about his brother. The question to
the boy about Trevor was just to see what he knew. Trevor and Tony had been
close friends in high school. Trevor was one of the best fucks Tony had ever
experienced. He hated it when he went off to college. Trevor didn’t come home
very often because his boyfriend couldn’t come with him. Terrance Lott and his
wife Betty were very religious and strict. Trevor couldn’t bring himself to
‘come out’ to them.
“How are you feeling now, Joseph?” Perry asked.
“Oh, a whole lot better. I’d forgotten what it feels like not to hurt down
there.” Joseph said looking at his crotch when he said it.
“Why don’t you come to the office this week and let me check you out? I won’t
charge you one dime. Hell, Mac might even pay you to visit my office!” Perry
said.
“He would, would he? I might just take you up on that.” Joseph said. “I know
I’ve been putting it off. Truth is, I just didn’t want to do anything about
it. Now I do. Maybe I can get Forrest to drive me over. We’ll see.”
“Well, if he can’t, I’ll come get you.” Mac said.
“Oh, no you won’t. It’s an hour and a half drive at break-neck speed to go
around that forest. Then you’d have to drive into town on top of that? You’d
be on the road all day!” Joseph said. “It’s only an hour into town from the
reservation. I got plenty of folks to drive me.”
“What’s Pops saying about driving?” Forrest asked.
“I want him to see Perry in town and get a check up.” Mac said.
“Ha! He ain’t never been to a doctor. Hell, I’ll drive him in if he wants to
go.” Forrest said.
“He said he’d come in this week, so clear your schedule.” Mac demanded.
David started banging a pot with a big spoon.
“Gather round kids. This is your first dinner on the grounds. It is an annual
gathering that from this day forward will forever be held on this weekend.
When you grow up and go off into life, remember this day. It is Reunion Day
and will have great significance to you as you grow up. Remember that you
always have a home to come back to. Now come and get it!” David cried, pulling
the cloth off of the covered food.
The dinner went well, everyone was more than fed. Mac got James and Hank
started on the ice cream and all the boys had to take a turn turning the
crank. When it was too hard for the boys, Dan took over. The ice cream was a
hit. Everyone got one serving and some of the little boys, especially the
‘twins’ and Marty got seconds. Grayson told his mom that Marty never got ice
cream growing up and she almost lost it. She had to get up and take a walk.
Janet went with her. Grayson was a little confused but she told him she’d be
OK and to stay with his friends.
“Oh, that just tears me up. I know the boy is almost 18 but he looks so much
like a 14-year-old and it just gets to me. He’s such a sweetheart. I can’t
imagine the kind of life he had to live. Mac told me a little bit and I want
to wring his mother’s neck. I’ll be all right. I didn’t mean to cry.” Shirley
said through her tears.
“I wouldn’t love you if you didn’t.” Janet said, holding her tight.
They walked a while through the woods and came upon the cabin. They looked in
the windows but didn’t see much. Sam and Mike had cleaned up all the bloody
plastic sheeting and had wiped off all the counters. There were trashcans full
of evidence from the event but they didn’t look in them. The trash was one of
James and Hank’s chores left for them to do tomorrow. They didn’t walk by the
fire-pit. If they had, they night have seen the charred remains of several
penises and testicles. The two women walked back to the clearing by the creek
and sat down under a big tree by the creek.
“This is a lovely spot for a wedding.” Shirley said.
“It sure is. Why are you thinking about a wedding?” Janet asked.
“Jim and Jacob are getting married. So are those two boys, Hank and James.”
Shirley said, pointing to Hank and James, throwing stones into the creek with
Taylor and Isaac.
“We should get Jim a gift.” Janet said. “Grayson sure likes the guy. I’m sure
he’d want us too.”
“I’d like to see Grayson in a ceremony in such a pretty spot like this,”
Shirley said looking like she was going to cry again.
“Oh, there you go again, come here.” Janet said pulling Shirley to her huge
breasts.
Sara came over to sit with the two women, bringing them drinks. Grayson and
Marty came over to sit with them too. Marty was leading Grayson by his penis
like he was a horse on a lead, Shirley and Janet thought that was too funny.
Art, Aaron, Todd and Tim decided to go for a walk. Olin and Mica got up and
followed them. They all ended up on a large rock down stream hidden from view
by bushes. They were sitting on the rock throwing pebbles into the creek.
“How big are you now, Art?” asked Olin.
“Huh?” Art asked.
“How big is your dick?” Olin repeated.
“I don’t know.” Art replied looking down at himself.
Aaron reached over and pinched his penis, getting a giggle out of Art and
Todd.
“It’s twice as big than it was last week.” Aaron said.
“You guys fuck?” Mica asked.
“Yeah, sometimes.” Art replied blushing.
“I never did that before.” Todd said.
“Never?” asked Olin.
“No.” Todd replied a little bewildered.
“You want to?” Olin pressed.
“Sure I want to. Why are you offering?” Todd asked.
“If you want to,” Olin replied.
“What do I do?” Todd asked with a wrinkled nose, getting a giggle from Aaron
and Mica.
Olin lay back on the rock and pointed to his ass-hole.
“He can’t lay down dummy. He has a broken arm. Stand up and bend over.” Aaron
commanded.
Olin jumped up like a good little eunuch and bent over like he was told. Aaron
got Todd to stand up and Todd placed his left hand on Olin’s hip. Aaron
squatted down and took Todd’s penis in his mouth and ‘lubed’ him up. Todd’s
penis was glistening in the sunlight, with his glans partially exposed when
Aaron finished. Aaron helped him position his penis at Olin’s sphincter and
Todd pushed himself in. Aaron held Olin’s right hip with his right hand and
Todd’s right hip with his left. He guided Todd’s motions until he got a rhythm
going. It wasn’t long before Todd shot off into Olin’s ass. Todd kept going
until his erection subsided and it popped out on it’s own.
“That felt great!” Todd said excitedly.
“I want to do it!” Tim said jumping around.
“You don’t have a dick yet.” Mica said harshly.
“Yes he does. It’s just small like Art. He can fuck if he wants to. Come here
kid,” Aaron said.
Tim got up and went to Aaron and Art. Aaron got Art into the ‘Missionary’
position and held his feet up in the air. Todd sat down beside Art and rubbed
his belly. Olin sat down by Mica and watched, idly rubbing Mica’s flaccid
penis. Todd leaned down and gave Art a kiss, snickering about it. Art just
grinned. Aaron bent down and sucked Art’s penis into his mouth and licked him
all around, working his way down to his anus, tonguing him deeply. He sat back
and took Tim’s tiny penis into his mouth and the boy giggled. When he felt he
was wet enough, he told Tim to get down and he and Todd helped get the boy’s
penis into Art. Tim was too giddy to pay attention to what he was doing. Art
was amused. Aaron got Todd to lay down and he went down on his ass-hole. Todd
was giggling because it felt good and tickled at the same time. Aaron stuck
his penis in Todd’s sphincter and slowly pushed himself in.
“Like this, kid. Watch me.” Aaron instructed Tim by example.
Art watched and reached over to hold Todd’s hand. Tim lay on Art and was
mesmerized at Todd and Aaron’s coupling. Art was giggling because Tim was
laying on him and tickling him with his movements. Tim watched Aaron move his
hips in and out of his cousin and started to try it on Art. He held Art’s legs
up just like Aaron held Todd’s. He was able to get his tiny penis into Art and
move it back and forth a little bit. All of a sudden, Tim got a pained look on
his face and stopped.
Art saw it and asked, “What’s wrong buddy?”
“I feel weird. I feel like I got to pee.” Tim said.
“I think you just had your first climax,” Aaron said, as he stopped his
motions without removing himself from Todd but looked over at the kid.
“Is it supposed to hurt?” Tim asked.
“I don’t know. Let me see,” Aaron said.
Tim got off Art and stood up in front of Aaron. Art rolled over to his side
and snuggled up to Todd. Tim let his micro shaft get inspected. Aaron looked
up at his face and just smiled.
“You just opened yourself up for the first time kid. It hurts once or twice,
but it gets better. Your foreskin was too tight that’s all. Ain’t your
brothers taught you anything?” Aaron chided him.
“Sure they did but they never hurt me.” Tim said.
“That’s because you were too young,” Larry said, surprising them all.
Larry and Ed had followed the little boys at a distance and had watched their
explorations. Billy and Brewer were right behind them trying not to laugh.
“You guys don’t need to be down here without supervision.” Ed said, sitting
down by Todd, rubbing his chest.
Billy sat down by Ed and Larry and Brewer sat down on the other side of the
smaller boys, banking them into the middle of the large rock.
“Come here Timmy and let me look at you,” Ed demanded.
Tim allowed his big brother to inspect his pecker.
“You’ll be OK. Just don’t pull on it for a while. You didn’t do any damage. We
should have gotten you open long before now, but you were so small, we didn’t
know if it was time yet.” Ed said.
“Am I going to grow big like you and Larry?” Tim asked.
“No one knows about those things buddy. Look at Art and Aaron. They aren’t
really big, and neither is Toddy. The size of your pecker don’t matter much.
It’s just a joy-buzzer anyway.” Ed said, tickling his brother’s balls.
Tim giggled and sat down by Art. Olin and Mica sat up and looked at Larry and
Ed’s penises. They looked at each other and asked Ed and Larry to fuck them.
The brothers looked at each other and then at their ‘pets’. Billy and Brewer
just smiled. They said they would like to watch them in action. Larry and Ed
jumped up to get the ‘twins’ in a good position. Brewer took Tim into his lap
and Billy rolled over to rub Todd’s stomach. Todd was fascinated by Billy’s
sheathed penis and was rubbing it to an erection. Aaron moved back over to Art
and settled on him to finish what Tim could not. Larry and Ed worked their
penises into Olin and Mica, and rode them to a quick climax each. Olin and
Mica both were slightly erect when Ed and Larry relaxed. Ed sat back and
hoisted Mica up into his lap. Mica was enjoying the feeling from his climax
and looking up at Ed. Ed grabbed Mica’s penis and jacked it to a full hard-on.
Larry followed his example and did the same to Olin. The ‘twins’ hadn’t had a
hard-on in days. They both got a little giddy at seeing their penises erect
and started jacking while Ed and Larry started riding their asses again. Olin
and Mica were grinding their asses and trying to get all they could from the
brothers. Ed and Larry were on their way to a massive orgasm. Ed came first,
inside of Mica. He kept pounding Mica’s ass until he couldn’t move. His hips
were shaking and knees weak when he collapsed on the boy. Larry pulled out of
Olin just as he was shooting his semen out of his body. He sent a rope of
semen over Olin’s head into the creek. Todd started laughing at Olin’s
expression. He wanted more. Larry was spent but he wasn’t tired. He dropped
Olin from his lap as he stood up. He reached out to Brewer and pulled him up.
They went off to the clearing to get something to drink, and Tim went with
them. Billy was getting attention from Todd and wasn’t in a hurry to move.
Todd was giggling, tickling Billy’s glans, barely attainable from its sheath.
Billy was rocking his hips like something was missing. Ed sat by him and
started rubbing his sphincter with his fingers. Billy was grinding on Ed’s
hand. Ed worked his finger into Billy’s ass and rubbed his prostate. Billy
climaxed after a few seconds from manipulations inside and out. He looked up
at Ed and smiled. He pulled Ed into a deep kiss. Art and Aaron were locked in
their own embrace having satisfied their needs. Art still didn’t have real
fluids but he did have an orgasm. Aaron was still giddy about his orgasm. He
was producing now that he’s been getting the daily shots. They sat up and
watched Billy hunching on Ed’s hand and smiled. Ed was completely flaccid and
that was unusual. Todd stood up to pee and saw Barry and Jamie walking their
way. Little Bit ran out onto the rock. Dan and Allan were walking close behind
them. Barry saw Todd moving and said something to Jamie. They stepped over to
the rock. Dan and Allan kept walking. Allan had to go back to the house and
they were walking hand in hand.
“Hey you guys, what ‘cha doing?” Jamie asked the boys.
“Just fooling around,” Aaron answered, giggling.
“Everyone’s getting ready to pull up stakes and go back to the house. Ed, your
Grandfather is looking for you.” Jamie said.
He and Barry sat down beside Aaron and Art. Little Bit was sniffing each one
of the boys. Ed and Billy got up to walk back to the clearing. Isaac and Randy
jumped out of the bushes, scaring them all. Little Bit started barking and
Jamie had to scoop her up to calm her.
“We’ve been following you and you never heard us!” Randy said laughing.
Ed and Billy recovered but Billy nearly fell into the creek. Ed rubbed Isaac’s
hair and feigned a slap to the face. Ed pulled Billy up to the creek bank and
they walked off toward the clearing. Isaac and Randy sat down beside Jamie and
Barry. Aaron and Art stood up to go pee and Isaac grabbed Aaron, pulling him
into his and Randy’s laps. Art fell on top of them, pushing Isaac into Jamie
and Barry. They rolled around giggling. Todd, Olin and Mica jumped in on the
tickling. Aaron started peeing up in the air and everyone started laughing
even harder. Barry picked the boy up and threw him into the creek, jumping in
behind him.
“Ooh! Icky!” Todd said, still giggling, stepping into the creek to wash the
piss off.
“Oh, this water is so COLD!” Aaron cried.
Barry stood up and the water was just up to his ass. His penis and testicles
were shriveled up so small, they could barely be seen. Olin and Mica jumped
into the creek and started splashing around. Randy and Isaac jumped in but
just washed off the piss Aaron had sprayed on them. Art stood up and gingerly
stepped into the cold water. His penis disappeared it was so cold. The water
stays an average mean temperature of 42 degrees, year-round due to the
underground springs it flows from. Todd picked up a shinny stone to show
everyone. It was a creek-tumbled garnet.
“Hey, pretty!” Isaac said. “It looks like the earrings me and Art have.”
“They are all over the place around here,” Todd said disinterested.
“Hey, keep it. Maybe we can get it made into another earring,” said Isaac.
“Hey, why is the water so cold?” Art asked. “It’s so hot out today.”
“It comes from a natural spring deep in the national forest.” Todd replied.
“You mean like a cave or something?” Art asked.
“I don’t know, I think so. I’ve never been there. You can ask Gramps. He’d
know,” Todd said with confidence.
“You guys are going to loose your nuts in that freezing water,” Jamie said
laughing.
Barry got out of the water and pushed Jamie down, laying on him for warmth.
Little Bit started her explorations again.
“Geepers! You are cold. What happened to your dick? It disappeared!” Jamie
said laughing.
“Well, you are warm enough to get it back where it was,” Barry said, grinding
his groin into Jamie, trying to kiss him.
“Hey, careful, stitches,” Jamie said from under Barry’s advances.
Isaac and Randy climbed back up onto the rock and sat in the sun trying to
warm up. Aaron and Art joined them. They huddled up together and soon were
giggling. Olin and Mica helped Todd back up to the rock. They huddled up with
the others. Todd got an erection again from the heat of the rock as did Isaac
and Aaron. Art was getting erect again too. Randy laid back and let Isaac
cover him. Art crawled over to Aaron and lay on him for warmth. Aaron was
trying to work his penis in-between art’s legs. They were all so giddy; they
didn’t realize Josh and Michael were standing over them. James, Hank and
Taylor were right behind them. Little Joe and Tony walked up and put their
arms around Hank and Taylor then threw them into the creek. They stood there
laughing and got pushed in by Josh and Michael. James jumped in and
immediately started chattering his teeth.
“Shit, this is cold!” he said, jumping back up onto the rock.
They all got out and huddled up in the sunlight. Josh and Michael stepped off
into the water but didn’t go far. They turned around and wadded back onto the
rock. Everyone was laughing about how tiny the cold water made their penises.
Josh smiled and tweaked his pecker but nothing happened. It was still too cold
to come out. They laughed about that. Taylor liked it when his shrank. His
nuts nearly disappeared too.
“I wish I could stay like this all the time,” Taylor said of his frozen
genitals.
“Yeah, me too,” Tony said.
He was shrunken up to about and inch and his testicles were hugging his
abdomen for warmth, almost looking like he’d been castrated. Of course, he did
have small testicles. His ring was missing. It had fallen off in the cold
water.
“You want your junk removed don’t you?” Little Joe asked.
“Well, I don’t know if removed is the right word. I don’t like getting
erections and I think my dick is too big. I’d like to be like one of these
little guys,” Tony said, rubbing Art’s little ass. “I’d love it if Doctor
Walker could make me look like this one. Just something to play with but not
have to worry about working.”
“So, are you telling me you are a bottom?” Little Joe asked.
“Well, I guess so. I like to get sucked sometimes, but I do love to get
fucked.” Tony said.
“Yeah, me too. I wish my dick wasn’t so big. If it would just stay small and
not get hard all the time, I’d be the happiest boy in the world.” Taylor said.
“Well, I like to bottom too, but I like to fuck when I feel like I’m in
control.” Little Joe replied.
“Well, you can have control. I get enough of that from work. Sometimes I just
hate being a man and looking the way I do. Everyone expects things from me
that I don’t feel.” Tony said.
“Hey that’s me too,” Taylor said. “I hate it when girls hit on me expecting me
to be like my big brothers. They all got reputations.”
“Not all of them,” Tony said a little slyly.
“What are you talking about?” Taylor asked.
James and Hank sat up to see what they were hearing.
“I told you I know Trevor. What I meant was, I REALLY know Trevor.” Tony said
raising his eyebrows for emphasis.
“Are you saying you fooled around with my brother?” Taylor asked.
“As often as we could until he went off to college,” Tony replied.
Taylor was dumfounded. Tony placed his hand on the boy’s knee and said,
“I bumped into him a few of years ago when he was home for a visit. He’s been
in a relationship with a guy he met at college. It’s the reason he doesn’t
come home very often. He’s still in school but he uses it as an excuse for
your parents.” Tony said gently. “I’m only telling you because I thought you’d
understand, given the way your parents act. I know that it might be upsetting,
but believe me, Trevor hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t know that you
like guys. Maybe you can give him a hint next time he comes home.”
“Well, it answers a lot of questions. It makes sense now that I look back. I’m
going to call him tonight,” Taylor said.
“Well, come on boys, let’s get back to the group. It’s time to clean up and go
home.” Little Joe said rising and extending a hand to Tony.
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to go soon. Church starts at 6.” Taylor said, getting up
to follow.
All the other boys followed and were soon back at the clearing. Grayson and
Marty had been sitting with Janet and Shirley and ran out to meet them.
“Hey, guess what? My mom is thinking about letting me go to school here when
it’s built. She wants Marty to come spend the weekends at our house some too.”
Grayson said.
“Hey, Greyhound, that’s cool!” Hank said, slapping his ass.
“They have a pool at their house. I can’t wait to see it!” Marty said
excitedly.
“Will you have to sleep in separate beds when you go over there or do they
know you guys are joined at the groin all the time?” James asked smirking.
“Yeah, they know, doofuss. I’ve had my hands on his dick all day. You should
have seen his mom’s eyes when he got an erection!” Marty said, laughing about
the last.
“God, that was embarrassing.” Grayson said.
“Well, you sure learned a lot about your mom today, didn’t you?” Hank asked,
grabbing Grayson’s neck and choking him.
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Grayson replied, letting the older boy tap his forehead
like his skull was empty.
“Hey, my Dad said we were going to get a pool when the house is built,” Josh
said.
“I wonder why Doc Perry and Mac never built a pool?” Michael asked nobody in
particular.
“Because we had the creek and didn’t have a bunch of boys,” Perry said
overhearing. “Come help with this table, James.”
All the boys pitched in and soon the clearing looked almost like none of them
had ever been down there except that it had been raked. They all piled into
vehicles. David and I drove Dan’s pickup back because they had walked back to
the house earlier. It was close to 4:30 when we got back to the house. Randy
had some sunburn and Mac ordered him indoors. Isaac went with him. Jamie took
Little Bit indoors to give her a bath. Little Joe and Forrest were loading up
their vehicles to make the trip back home. Sara and Shirley were exchanging
phone numbers and promising to visit. Turns out that Janet is Ľ Cherokee on
her dad’s side. Sara knew some of her cousins. Joseph was sitting on Little
Joe’s tailgate giving Larry and Ed final instructions on the mustangs and
holding Todd against his chest. Todd was crying about having to go home. Tim
was sitting in Forrest’s lap begging to stay too, and fighting his uncle
trying to dress him.
“But I want to stay with Ed and Larry.” Tim cried.
“Your mother needs you at home buddy,” Forrest said. “You can come visit next
time someone comes over here.”
Mac and Perry told Forrest where the office was while he was pulling on his
pants. They told him when he could bring Joseph by. Mac made Joseph promise to
take the pills when he got into the car and Forrest said he’d make sure he did
even if he had to hog-tie him. Forrest put Tim in the back seat with Joseph.
They agreed on an appointment date and Forrest pulled out of the yard telling
Sara to put some clothes on. Sara waved out the window to Shirley and Janet.
Todd ran over to Aaron and art and was hugging them. Little Joe had to pry him
away from them and had to physically deposit him into his truck, but then had
to run into the house to get his meds. Perry wanted to see Todd at the office
and Little Joe promised to get him there.
“His mother is going to scream at his broken arm but I’ll deal with it.”
Little Joe said. “Now are these for anytime or are they on a schedule?”
“The staple shouldn’t hurt much more now that his body has gotten used to it,
but just give him one at night unless he’s in pain. They’ll last about 4-6
hours. We’ll take it out on Wednesday. If his mother wants to call, it’ll be
fine,” Perry said.
Little Joe pulled his pants on but that was all and said goodbye to Tony. He
promised to see him ‘later’ and left with Todd, still naked, bawling down the
lane.
“Poor boy sure didn’t want to leave.” Mac said to Perry.
Art and Aaron were crying on the steps when they walked be to the deck.
“Oh, there, there boys. You’ll see him again. He just has to deal with his
mother. If he can’t come back for a while, we’ll go see him,” Mac said,
rubbing their heads.
Barry and Jamie needed to know where to put Barry’s meager possessions. Mac
told them to take the room at the top of the stairs that Joseph had used until
he could get another bed delivered. Matt and Mark were sitting by Dan on the
deck and wanted to know what they had decided to do about Allan’s nuts.
“I think he’s going to get some rearrangement. He likes what Perry did for
Frank and still insists that getting rid of his nuts would stop all his
‘flow’.” Dan said.
“Well, it’s nice he’s willing to keep his dick, but you know, he wants you to
be the man don’t you?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, we talked about that. I just think it’s a huge sacrifice and I like
teasing it. The size of it doesn’t matter to me as long as I have something to
play with.” Dan said.
“Hey, maybe Perry could give Allan a button re-route,” Mark said.
“What’s that?” Dan wanted to know.
“It’s where the penis glans is put back where the root comes from the body and
all the guy has is that. Everything else is cut away. The glans is still
active and he can pee through it but of course he’ll have to sit to pee.” Mark
said.
“So the guy who has that done still can get erect?” Dan asked in ignorance.
“Well, yes and no. Usually just the glans is saved. The shaft is done away
with along with most of the skin and testicles. It’s like a little stub or
button over the new pisser. Imagine David with a penis head where his piss-
hole is. But you know, the glans does get larger during an erection.” Mark
explained.
“Oh, so if that were done, I’d still have something to tease,” Dan said
smiling. “He would look like a nullo until he sat down and opened up his legs.
Cool.”
“There are a lot of guys who have it done when everything goes. There are
cancer patients who get it done to help with urination but they don’t always
get the entire glans resected.” Matt said.
“I bet he would go for that. He wants everything gone because he thinks his
penis is so small, it’s worthless. I just want him to keep some external
feelings. I don’t think he’s wired like David and Mac. But it’s his body. All
I can do is ask.” Dan said.
Shirley told Grayson to go get his things that they would be leaving in a
while. Grayson had such a sad look on his face that she almost lost it. She
turned to Janet and smiled but bit her lip. Luckily for her, Grayson
obediently turned to go indoors with Marty on his heels. They could hear the
boys from the attic out in the yard. Grayson saw his PC on a table near the
bed and his old teddybear on Marty’s bed. His favorite pillow was on Marty’s
bed and his clothes were hanging in the wardrobe also. Mac heard the commotion
and stepped into the doorway. Shirley was right behind him.
“Why are my things here? Does this mean I can stay?” Grayson asked
incredulously.
“As long as you keep your grades up and can pass all the state mandated tests
and you don’t give Mac any trouble.” Shirley said.
Grayson almost picked his mother off the floor hugging her so hard.
“My goodness, I guess that made you happy!” Shirley said, laughing.
Grayson and Marty hugged each other and then hugged Shirley together.
“I’ll make sure he does his homework, ma’am,” Marty said beaming.
He was so happy he had to run to the bathroom or leak all over the floor.
Shirley and Mac went back downstairs to put together a list of things she
thought Grayson would need. They talked about Marty coming for the next
weekend and decided on a ‘rotation visit schedule’ that would work with
everyone.
“Well, we need to go. Janet has to be up at 4:30 and it’s a long drive. We’re
on the other side of town.” Shirley said.
“You work for Doctor Barnes and Janet works at the state patrol. Both of those
places are on this side of town. If you lived out this way, you wouldn’t have
such a long commute.” Mac said.
“I know, but we bought that house when Grayson was a baby and I worked at the
hospital and Janet worked at the sheriff’s office. It would be nice to be
closer and Grayson could live at home and drive himself to school but, Marty
needs you guys and Grayson needs Marty. They need the nudist lifestyle. I
believe it will be the salvation of both of them. Having to hide their bodies
just encourages a lot of bad body feelings. No, I’m content to have my son
live here and see him when I can, for now. The alternative might be to loose
him altogether because of some stupid stunt trying to gratify his needs.”
Shirley said.
Janet had walked into the kitchen and had heard the last.
“I think you are very brave. He’ll be just fine. We’ll come and get them for
the weekends; we’ll work it out. Now we had better hit the road, lady. It’ll
be dark by the time we get home as it is.” Janet said, then hollered to the
boy. “GRAYSON!”
Grayson and Marty ran down the stairs. Shirley stood up and hugged them.
Grayson hugged Janet. She kissed his forehead and slapped his ass.
“Now you be good. We’ll see you next weekend,” Janet said as she guided
Shirley out the door.
Grayson and Marty walked out with them and stood there long after they
disappeared down the lane. They went over to the deck and joined the other
boys, getting slaps of approval from James and Hank. Taylor was getting
showered and was just shutting off the water when they walked up. He went over
to the rail and got a towel. His dick was hard again even after getting a cool
shower. Perry had walked out to see where Sam and Mike had gone and James told
him they went to the stable to see the new stallion with Larry and Ed.
“Ah, Doc, think you could do me a favor?” James asked.
“You don’t need to ask for favors, boy. You are not a guest; you are my ward.
That’s almost like a son. What ‘cha need?” Perry asked.
James almost choked up. Perry saw it. He reached out and pulled the boy into
his chest.
“You’re a slow learner aren’t you boy?” Perry said smiling at him. “Now what
did you want?”
“Ah, Taylor…he doesn’t like his dick. Could you help him?” James asked.
“Well, he’s barely 16. Why doesn’t he like his penis?” Perry asked. “Tell him
to come talk to me.”
James went over to Taylor and talked to him. The boy looked at Perry, put the
towel down and walked over to him.
“What is it that you don’t like about yourself kid?” Perry asked.
“This,” Taylor said making his erection slap his belly.
“You don’t like your penis? It looks like a very nice penis to me.” Perry
said.
“Oh, I like it, I just don’t like it to get hard. It’s too big.” Taylor said.
“Well, that’s something I rarely hear in my practice!” Perry laughed.
Taylor looked like he was being rejected.
“Oh, now, I wasn’t laughing at you, but it is rare that I hear that statement.
I can’t do much for you because of your age. I can give you some relief right
this minute if that will help.” Perry offered.
“Like what?” Taylor asked.
“Come into the office with me, we’ll get you fixed up,” Perry said, guiding
the naked boy into the house.
James smiled that he was able to help his new friend. He also smiled because
Perry had said he was like a son. Perry got Taylor into the office and had him
sit on the exam table. He told the boy to spread his legs and he examined his
erection.
“I don’t see anything wrong with this thing. Why do you think it’s too big?
It’s barely 5 inches. Most boys your age consider that ‘not’ long enough.”
Perry asked.
“I just don’t like it to get hard. I guess my mom always telling me it was
dirty when it showed up in my pants, made me think weird thoughts, I don’t
know. James and Hank talked to me some about it last night. I just got to
wishing it wouldn’t get hard and now I think I’d feel better not having it or
doing something to make it stay soft.” Taylor tried to explain.
“Well, I can give you some temporary relief but it would take surgery to
render you permanently impotent and you are not old enough to make those kind
of decisions yet. I know you are probably a very smart kid but you don’t have
life experience. You just had your first encounter with another person
yesterday. That doesn’t qualify. When you are older, I’d be glad to whack on
you any ol’ way you want. But I think you need to experience life and love and
sex the way you were meant to first. I’ll give you an injection to stop the
erections but it won’t last more than a few hours to a day at most. You get
erect too easily, so I’d say about half a day, but it’s not an exact science
yet. Most medical practices worry about keeping guys erect, not stopping them.
Now this will sting a bit but it’ll be quick.” Perry said as he stuck the
syringe into Taylor’s stiff penis.
He told Taylor to go on back outside after he told him to see about coming to
the office during the week. His family’s store wasn’t too far from Perry’s
office. Perry put the needle into the ‘sharps’ box and threw the syringe away.
Taylor walked back outside and after a few minutes, his erection subsided. He
was shaking it around and letting Hank and James pull and squeeze it but
nothing would work. He could feel everything but it remained soft. He was
elated. James sucked on it until he had an orgasm and still it remained soft.
Taylor sat down on a bench and spread his legs and looked at his penis.
“Man, that is so neat! I wish I could get those shots every day! I only wish
it would last longer than a day.” Taylor said as he pulled his briefs on.
He stuffed his penis into his briefs and felt his little ‘mound’. Then he
pulled his socks and jeans on. He grabbed his shirt and kissed James and Hank
and said goodbye to all the other boys. He ran out to his truck and headed off
to church, just as neat as he arrived. He hadn’t worn his clothes all day;
they were still fresh.
Jacob called Josh and Michael indoors to get ready for dinner. He and Jim were
going to a friend’s house for dinner and the boys needed to shower and dress.
Jacob still had not gotten Michael to any stores to get some descent clothes.
He had to borrow some from James and Hank and they went up to the attic to
help him dress. Grayson’s things were on the bed when they all got up there.
They weren’t too surprised that Grayson was still there.
Randy and Isaac were in Mac and Perry’s room on the bed watching TV when Aaron
and Art walked in. Isaac was rubbing skin cream over Randy’s body. They
flopped on the bed and were still moping about Todd having to go home. David
and I had tried to console them but we knew that only time would heal it. We
had decided to lay down a while and they went down the hall.
Steve and Frank had taken Olin and Mica back to their house and the farmhouse
was starting to grow quiet for a change. The occasional bark from Little Bit,
down the hall, was all we heard until supper.
Dan, Mark, Matt and Tony were still out on the deck when Allan drove up from
his showing. Perry had walked out to the stable. Jim and Jacob left with Josh
and Michael. Allan walked up to Dan and gave him a kiss. Tony wasn’t wearing
his cock ring. It had fallen off in the creek and he couldn’t find it.
“Hey dude, you took your ring off I see.” Allan said.
“No, I lost it in that freezing water this afternoon.” Tony replied, shivering
at the thought.
“I guess everyone has gone home, where’s all the boys?” Allan asked.
“Some are inside and some are at the barn. We’re trying to figure out what to
do with this fellow. He’s going to be here for a while. Sheriff Jackson took
off and didn’t even leave him his clothes.” Dan said of Tony.
“He said I wouldn’t need them because I don’t have permission to leave the
farm,” Tony said.
“You are not his ‘boy’ are you?” Matt asked.
“No, I just like it when he takes charge. I love the guy like he was my
father. I never had one, so I guess he is like a father. He wants me to get
altered but Doctor Walker has to decide how and what. I just hope I’m not left
with this big ol’ thing.” Tony said, swatting his penis.
“You don’t like your penis? But it’s so big.” Allan said.
“Size doesn’t have anything to do with like and dislike. I’d like to be as
small as you are if I could. I don’t know if it’s possible but that’s what I’d
like.” Tony said. “I’d love to have something that I could get pleasure from
and not be required to ‘perform’ with.”
“Well, it just goes to show you, it takes all kinds,” Matt said looking at
Allan and Dan.
“Well, if he can trim Mark down to peanut size, I’m sure he can trim you down
too,” Allan said, pinching Mark’s nub.
“Hey, we were talking while ago and I have a proposition for you. What about a
glans resection instead of complete removal?” Dan asked Allan.
“You’ve been talking about me while I was gone?” Allan said looking at Dan
surprised.
“Well, you know, there isn’t any secrets out here.” Dan said.
“I gave him the idea,” said Mark. “You want to be like Mac and David. Dan
wants you to keep something. A button re-route might be a compromise.”
“What’s a button re-route?” asked Allan.
Mark and Matt told him all about it and he was intrigued.
“That does sound like an alternative. Will I still be able to feel it after
it’s reattached?” Allan asked.
“Sure, they don’t cut the nerves. He can tease you into tomorrow plus you can
grind on it when you are getting fucked.” Mark said unabashedly.
Mark got up and stood in front of Allan and started undressing him. He and Dan
got Allan out of his suit and Mark was playing with Allan’s tiny penis.
“Hey, now, that’s mine.” Dan said.
“Aw come on, it won’t be here much longer. I just want to see it explode.”
Mark complained.
Allan looked at Dan and smiled. Dan looked at him and nodded. Allan gave Mark
a quick kiss and pulled him between his legs. He rubbed his tiny pecker on
Mark’s nub until it was leaking. Mark got up on a table and Allan stuck his
tiny-ness into his ass. He had a hard time keeping it inside of Mark, which
brought a lot of laughter from the other guys. Allan shot a wad that landed on
Marks belly because he was going so fast that he missed the hole at the wrong
moment.
“See, what I have to deal with?” Allan said.
He sat on the table and Dan got up to hold him. They kissed. Dan lifted his
legs and laid him out on the table. He stuck his small penis in Allan and
slowly penetrated his ass. Dan moved very little before he shot off in Allan.
He picked Allan up and held him tight.
“If getting rid of it will make you happy, then do it.” Dan said. “I’ll
support your decision.”
Tony asked Matt if he minded him using Mark’s hole and Matt winked at Mark and
said,
“Go ahead, I’m sure he’d like that.”
Tony lifted Mark’s legs back up in the air and stuffed his 7 inches into him.
He grunted and so did Mark. Tony pumped him several times before unloading.
Matt stepped up behind Tony and was rubbing his stiffening penis in his ass-
crack. Tony bent over to accept it. Matt pounded him until he shot off in his
ass. Tony thanked him for the pounding, something Matt was not used to.
“You’re welcome, I guess,” Matt said smiling.
Matt sat down on the table next to Mark and rubbed his belly before pulling
him up to kiss him.
“Hey, where are we going to sleep tonight?” Matt asked Mark. “I have court at
10 and you have school to get ready for.”
“Well, we could sleep at Frank’s or we could toss James and Hank out of bed.
We need to bring a bed out here. There’s plenty of room in the attic for a
couple more beds. Grayson is staying so, he and Marty might let us bunk with
them,” Mark replied.
“Well, we need to make a decision on the apartment. We don’t have an awful lot
of junk and the two beds we have would come in handy out here.” Matt said.
“You guys have two beds?” Dan asked.
“Well, we each had one when we moved in together, we put the extra one in the
spare bedroom.” Matt said.
“Well, it’s a couple of hours ‘til dinner, we could take my truck and get one
of them,” Dan offered.
They thought that was a good idea and they went in to get dressed, leaving
Allan and Mark with Tony. Dan took Allan’s suit up to our room.
“Let’s go in and look at pictures,” Mark offered.
“What kind of pictures?” Tony asked.
“Pictures of patients. Perry has a catalogue in the office.” Mark said.
They went to the office, passing Mac in the kitchen. They told Mac of what
they had in mind and he got the catalogue down. They sat around the table
looking at the pictures when Little Bit ran into the room, begging for
attention. Jamie walked in a few seconds later followed by Barry.
“Hey precious,” Mac said to the little dog, picking her up and letting her see
what was on the table.
“Spoil-oiled,” Jamie said grinning at Mac.
“Oh, that’s what she’s paid to do,” Mac said smiling.
He put her on the floor and Jamie took her on outside to do her ‘business’.
Barry looked at some of the pictures and whistled.
“Whew, I didn’t know there were so many ways a guy could get arranged. I
thought I’d seen it all when I first saw Billy and Brewer. What’s this one
called?” Barry asked.
“It’s a glans resection. Also known as a button re-route. It’s what Allan here
is thinking about doing.” Mark offered.
“Really, you’d like that?” Barry asked.
“Well, Dan wants me to keep something and I want to get rid of it all. I am so
small, I have to sit to pee except when I’m out here. Having a re-route would
make it easier to pee. I wouldn’t have to lean forward and get messy all the
time.” Allan said.
“Wow, I didn’t think of that. I get pretty small when I’m flaccid but I don’t
have to sit to pee.” Barry said.
“Well, you get up there when you get erect too. I just barely get a couple of
inches. When I’m flaccid, it is about as small as the end of my pinky finger.
See?” Allan said spreading his legs for better viewing.
“Wow, I guess so. I can see why you sit down to piss.” Barry said but didn’t
offer any apologies for saying it.
Allan liked his attitude. Barry didn’t seem to think in terms of size. It’s
just equipment.
“I’ve thought about getting my nuts whacked a few times. I hear your can turn
it on an off. I wonder what it’d be like to be able to do that.” Barry asked.
“You could talk to Jacob sometime. He went for over a year without hormones.
He started back last week and is functioning just fine.” Mac said. “If you
want a normal sex life, you’d need hormone replacement therapy.”
“Does that mean shots every day?” Barry asked.
“Not necessarily. Some get shots every day, like a few of the boys, but they
are growing and need adjustment regularly. Others get injections periodically.
You can get an implant like a couple of us do; it’s time-release so it’s sort
of like having nuts that just keep on working. Some guys don’t get any
hormones. They just go natural and depend on their brains to function, like
Sam and Mike. Jamie will have to do that for a while until Perry clears him
for HRT. Cancer feeds off testosterone.” Mac said.
“Will he get to the point he doesn’t want sex?” Barry asked.
“Maybe, there really is no way to tell except to wait and see. You have to
remember that most of your sexual responses is loaded into the brain. Once you
learn about it, you can remember what to do and what to expect. It’s just that
without hormones, you may not have to notion to respond to normal stimulus. If
someone wanted you to have sex and you just allowed it, you would still have
pleasure from the experience because your brain remembers the program. One of
the reason’s guys decide to get castrated is for the ability to function
without the stimulus. You can concentrate on other things, as where with your
testicles, you might not.” Mac said. “That’s why a lot of bottoms don’t need
hormones to enjoy sex. They might need encouragement to perform but they don’t
have to have desire or lust to enjoy it.”
Perry walked in with Sam and Mike, followed by Larry and Ed. Billy and Brewer
came in a few minutes later after showering outside. All but Perry went
upstairs.
“Where’d Dan take off to?” Perry asked.
“He and Matt went to our apartment to get a bed.” Mark said.
“Another bed?” Perry asked feigning disbelief, like he was being asked for
money he didn’t have.
“Oh, stop that. Mark has to sleep somewhere and they weren’t using it,” Mac
said.
“I ought to charge you rent boy,” Perry said grabbing Mark around the neck and
tussling his hair. “What are you guys doing with my catalogue?”
“Looking at all the possibilities for Allan and Tony. Barry might be
interested in something. He’s asking a whole bunch of questions.” Mac said
smiling at Barry.
“Hey curiosity may have killed the cat but it teaches people things.” Barry
replied.
Jamie came back in with Little Bit and sat down next to Barry.
“Ooh, gross, what are you looking at those for?” Jamie asked Barry about the
pictures he had in front of him.
“Hey I’m just learning about things, Allan and Tony are shopping.” Barry
defended himself.
“What are you thinking about Allan?” Perry asked.
“This button re-route.” Allan said holding up the picture.
“Hmm…Interesting. I thought you wanted to keep your penis. Why the change of
heart?” Perry asked.
“I just want to keep the feelings it gives me. It has no function other than
that and pissing, and I have to sit to piss anyway. As long as the nerves
still work, it can be just a bump on my skin and I’ll be happy. I have to get
fucked to enjoy sex, so what’s the point of keeping what I was born with?”
Allan replied.
“Well have you thought about just dropping it like I did Frank?” Perry asked.
“Yes, but he had a little more to work with than I have. I think this is what
I want. Dan can still have something to rub and I won't have to perform except
for what I do now…lay down or bend over.” Allan said.
“Yeah, that’s what I want. Can you make me like Mark, only smaller?” Tony
asked.
“Smaller than Mark? I didn’t think anyone could get smaller than Mark,” Perry
said laughing.
Mark took a swing at Perry but he dodged it.
“I mean thinner, more like that little kid of Artie’s and David’s or Allan.”
Tony said.
“Oh, like Art. Hmm… Let me look at you and we’ll see. You’re pretty thick. It
would take a lot of carving but, I think it’s doable.” Perry said. “Sam and
Mike are going to set up for waxing after supper. Jake wanted you to get
waxed. How about you, Barry, would you like a waxing?”
“Ooh, ouch. I don’t think so.” Barry said shuddering.
“It doesn’t hurt. He’ll shoot you up where you don’t feel a thing. I had ten
times as much hair as you and it was gone in less than an hour. I don’t want
it back either.” Allan said.
“I’d look like a little boy without hair. My dick is small enough as it is.”
Barry said.
“Waxing would make your dick look bigger.” Mark said. “Wait until Tony gets
waxed and you can see for yourself.”
“I’d like to get waxed. How much longer do I need to wait Doc?” Jamie asked.
“Well, it will be a few more days before we can take your stitches out and
then a few more after that, probably by next weekend. Are you itching?” Perry
replied.
“Yeah, a little but not wearing pants and drawers helps.” Jamie said smiling.
“Well, there’s no reason for you to wear anything until it gets cold, if you
don’t want to. We’ll wax your ass as soon as you are ready for it.” Mac said
smiling.
“Come on, Tony, let’s go into the office and do an exam,” Perry said.
Tony got up and followed Perry into the office. He sat on the exam table and
spread his legs and leaned back against the wall. Perry gave him a couple of
doses with the hypo and felt all around his scrotum and glans while the drugs
took effect.
“Hey, I can’t feel anything. Why did you shoot me up for an exam?” Tony asked.
“I thought we’d go ahead and get part of your procedure out of the way. Your
scrotum isn’t hairy and we’ll go ahead and kill your balls right now. I’ll
carve your penis up after supper.” Perry said getting a scalpel out of the
cabinet.
Perry gave Tony a shot to keep him flaccid and started to work on his balls.
Tony couldn’t watch but he felt the tugging and manipulations Perry was
administering to his scrotum. Perry sliced a small hole in each side of his
scrotum and one at a time, pulled his testicles out, tied them off and dropped
them in a pan. He took some of the surgical glue and sealed Tony’s scrotum
back together.
“OK, we’re done. Go see if anyone notices,” Perry said smiling.
“Can I keep those?” Tony asked. “I’d like to make something out of them.”
“What, like jewelry?” Perry asked.
“Yeah, something like that.” Tony replied.
Perry put them in a jar and poured a little alcohol over them and handed the
jar to Tony. Tony carried it back into the kitchen.
“Damn! Those yours?” Barry asked. “That was quick. Did it hurt?”
“No, didn’t feel anything. It hardly looks like they are missing.” Tony said,
holding his limp penis up by the glans.
“Damn, that’s cool,” Barry said, getting a boner.
Jamie noticed but said nothing. He didn’t want Barry to loose anything but it
was obvious that he liked the idea.
Isaac, Aaron, Randy and Art came downstairs for something to drink. They saw
Tony’s nuts on the table and Isaac picked up the jar and looked closely at
them.
“Whose are these?” Isaac asked.
“Mine,” Tony replied.
“You just got them cut out didn’t you?” Isaac asked.
“Yep, about 10 minutes ago. I’m going to have them dipped in silver or
something and wear them around my neck on a chain.” Tony said smiling.
“They’re smaller than mine,” Isaac said looking at the jar from all angles.
“Smartie-pants,” Tony said, taking his nuts back.
Isaac giggled and went to the refrigerator. Art and Aaron sat down beside Mac.
Their eyes were still red from crying. Mac put his arm around both of them but
said nothing.
David and I woke up and looked at the clock. It was after 6. It felt much
later.
“We slept too long, old man.” David said to me.
“Yeah, I guess we needed the extra beauty sleep.” I said stretching and
yawning. “Wonder what’s for dinner?”
“Probably left-over’s from lunch.” David said. “Come on, I’ll fix you a turkey
sandwich.”
We went downstairs. All the guys that were around the table were looking at
Perry’s procedures picture catalogue. Allan showed us what he was going to
have Perry do to him. Tony showed us his balls in the jar and what he was
going to get done tonight by pointing to Allan and Art.
“Well, that will be interesting to watch. Allan, when are you going to get
cut?” I asked.
“I’ll need to arrange my schedule, but hopefully in the next day or two.
Although, I could call one of my associates and see if she could cover for me
a few days.” Allan said, thinking out loud.
“Where’s Dan?” David asked.
“He and Matt went after a bed to put in the attic.” Mark said without looking
away from the ‘wish-book’.
David busied himself with fixing some sandwiches for the boys and us. He asked
Isaac to run upstairs and tell the others to come down and eat. Randy went out
to the screened porch to set the table, out there, and get some food from the
fridge. It wasn’t long before Dan and Matt showed up with Mark’s bedding.
James and Hank went out to help bring it all in and get it set up in the
attic. We sat around and talked some while the boys ate. Sam and Mike went out
to the deck and set up for waxing and Billy set up for surgery. They came in
and got a bite to eat. Some of the boys wanted to watch Tony get cut but Art
and Aaron went in to watch TV with Isaac and Randy. Grayson and Marty went in
to set up Grayson’s PC. Ed and Larry went back to the stables but Brewer
stayed on the deck with Billy. David and Mac stayed indoors to clean up and
plan for the school needs with Mark. I went outside with Matt, Allan and Dan.
Tony, Barry and Jamie came out too. Barry said he wanted to get waxed but
wanted to watch Tony go first. James and Hank were ribbing him about being
‘scared’ and not having that much to loose.
“It’ll be over with in two seconds. You don’t have that much hair,” James
said, rubbing Barry’s pubic turf.
“You’re about as smooth as a guy can get except for your face.” Hank said.
“Well, I don’t want it to hurt and I’m not too keen on the idea of looking
like a little kid.” Barry said.
“It won’t hurt one bit. You can feel them pulling but there is no pain. I
don’t see why you wouldn’t want to look younger. You are a little thin but so
is a few of the boys here. Getting waxed made Hank and me look 10 years
younger. We were both really hairy and looked 10 years older than we really
were.” James said. “You’re lucky not to have so much hair. You’re a good-
looking guy. So what if it makes you look cute. Cute is in now. Beside, it
does grow back if you just can’t stand it.”
“I want to get waxed but I have to wait another week or so,” Jamie said. “I
think I would look better smooth. If I had hair covering up everything, it
would look strange without my dick and balls.”
“Well, I like your smooth crotch. I get hard as stone looking at it.” Barry
said. “I know you don’t like to know that you turn guys on, but I figure, you
got to go with what you have.” Barry said.
“I’ll let you do that but I don’t want other guys to do it.” Jamie said.
“Are you still thinking about doing a woman?” Hank asked Jamie.
“I’d be lying if I said no. I’m still attracted to women. I’m grateful Barry
is here, don’t get me wrong, but he knows what kind of life I led up ‘til
now.” Jamie said.
“Well, maybe when you are all healed up, I can get one for both of us,” Barry
said rather slyly.
“I don’t know about that. I’d have to get used to that idea first. I’ve never
doubled on a woman before.” Jamie said.
“What you’ve doubled on a guy before?” Hank teased.
“No, butt-head, I’ve never doubled anything before. I always wanted it all to
myself.” Jamie said ‘bopping’ Hank on the head.
“OK, Tony, we’re ready for you. Come on up and get a few shots.” Sam said.
“Doc gave me a couple a little while ago. I can’t feel my groin.” Tony said.
“Well, you have more than groin hair young man, stand still. This won’t hurt,”
Sam said as he started dosing Tony across his chest, stomach and thighs. He
told Tony to bend over and gave him a dose around his anus too.
Tony stood up and Sam told him to go sit a while until the drug kicks in. He
looked at Barry and Jamie. They looked at each other and Barry threw his hands
up and walked to the table. Sam told him to just stand still when he started
to climb up on the table. Sam dosed Barry all around his genitals and asked
him to bend over like he did Tony. Barry had no real hairs anywhere but his
pelvic bone but Sam was being generous. When Barry went to sit down, some of
his drugs were starting to set in.
“This is kind-a funky. I’m loosing sensation in my dick and nuts.” Barry said
grinning.
“That’s what they did to me before they removed all my junk,” Jamie said.
“Wow, this is sort-of cool,” Barry said pulling and thumping his dick and
balls.
“Better be careful, you can’t feel the pain and you can really hurt yourself.”
James said, pointing to his nutless groin.
“Oh, right,” Barry replied, looking at James.
Tony got up on the table and Perry stuck a needle in his penis. Barry’s eyes
got really wide then. Tony didn’t watch what Perry was doing to him. He wanted
it to be a surprise. Mike started waxing Tony’s chest while Sam worked on his
legs. They met in the middle on either side of Tony’s groin.
“He stuck a needle in Tony’s dick!” Barry said to James.
“Yeah, he does that to see if it’s dead yet, like this,” James said as he
jabbed Barry’s penis but Barry wasn’t aware of it until James caught his eye
and looked down.
Barry looked at his crotch and James had stuck a needle in his erection and
left it.
“Damn! When did you do that?” Barry asked.
“About 15 seconds ago when you were hyped on watching Tony getting stuck.”
James said.
“Pull it out!” Barry said excitedly, his boner bouncing with the needle stuck
in its tip.
“Relax, it won’t leave a scar. It’s no different than getting a shot for the
flue.” James said casually. “If you want to pierce your dick, now’s a good
time.”
“How long does the drug last?” Barry asked, relaxing a little, the needle
still stuck in his glans.
“About 6-8 hours, depending on how much Sam gunned you.” Hank said.
“Man, it looks so surreal. I feel the emotion but I don’t get the pain my
brain tells me I should feel. I’m stone hard but I can’t feel it!” Barry said
as he stood up to wave his dick around, swinging his hips side-to-side.
The needle flew out and landed in front of Allan. He picked it up and gingerly
handed it back to Barry. He was about to stick it in his penis again but Perry
told him not to.
“You’ll regret it. Come on up here and let Sam wax you since you can’t feel
anything,” Perry said.
Barry went to the table and Sam helped him lay out the way he wanted him. Sam
spread the wax over his groin and pressed a cloth in it and waited a second
and pulled. The pulling startled Barry but he looked as Sam pulled again. His
crotch was nearly as bald as it was when he was 13. Sam took a few extra
minutes and got every hair he could find. He let Barry get up and he walked
over to Jamie. Jamie rubbed his smoothness and smiled. Barry had a few drops
of blood on his pelvic bone but Sam handed him a sterile wipe to hold on it.
He sat down and waited like Sam told him. After a while, he looked and was
shaking his head.
“I want to go see myself in a mirror.” Barry said.
They got up and went indoors. Perry was cutting Tony’s shaft skin and pulling
it away from his penis. He had already removed most of his scrotum. He split
the shaft skin down the middle to meet the gap where his scrotum used to be
and laid the skin out on his belly. He pared Tony’s shaft being careful about
his nerves. He removed most of Tony’s erectile tissue except for what he
needed to expose. He removed his urethra back to the root. He was going to
give Tony a new piss hole near his anus. He would have to squat to pee. Perry
then shaved Tony’s glans on the inside and sewed it back together after having
removed quite a chunk of it. He then sewed Tony’s glans to the shortened
shaft. Then he took the shaft-skin and pulled it downward to measure how much
he’ll need to attach it through the vacated scrotal area. Perry marked the
spot where his glans will be and cut a small opening there. He reached through
and pulled the drastically shortened penis through the hole. He cut a piece of
discarded shaft-skin that was twice as long as it needed to be and sewed it
around the opening. He took the other end of the piece of the shaft-skin and
attached it to the glans. Perry pulled it up, thereby creating a little
foreskin covering for it. He cut a notch in the new foreskin and sewed it back
together, making it into a point like a newborn. It looked sort-of like an
uncovered clitoris out front, but Perry wasn’t through. He sewed the balance
of the original shaft skin to the selvages of Tony’s scrotal area. When he
healed, he would not grow hair in that region because it was created from old
shaft skin instead of scrotal skin. Perry had tied the big penile veins off.
It was highly unlikely that Tony would ever again have an erection. What penis
he had left was simply a pleasure button.
“OK, Tony, you’re done.” Perry said.
Tony had dosed off and they had to shake him awake. He sat up and looked
around and realizing where he was, looked down at his groin. Gone was his
normal large dick and in its place was a baby’s penis and no balls. He smiled.
Sam and Mike helped him to stand and he stood there against the table but was
able to walk after a few seconds. Mike sprayed his groin with antiseptic
sealer and told him to sit with his legs spread. He didn’t want to close his
legs. He just wanted to look at his groin. He was amazed at the
transformation. Perry had made tiny sutures and finished with glue to minimize
scaring. Tony wanted to touch his new penis but they told him ‘not to mess
with it’. Allan was looking at Perry’s work. It was nearly flawless. He wanted
to jump up on the table but he couldn’t. He had to make arrangements for
someone to cover him at work. He and Dan went in to make a few phone calls.
Barry and Jamie came back out, passing Allan and Dan on the way in. Barry saw
Tony and whistled.
“Whew, man! That beats all I ever seen!” Barry exclaimed. “What do you think
of it?”
“I like what I see. I don’t know how it’s going to work yet, but I really
don’t care. Just looking at it gets me so horny; I want to get fucked. I
really want someone to fuck me now!” Tony exclaimed.
“Whoa there guy, you can’t be getting fucked right now. You need to wait a
couple of days so those stitches heal.” Mike advised. “Come up stairs and Sam
and I will get your rocks off, stress-free. You need to lie down a while
anyway.”
Mike and Sam got Tony up to their room and lain out on the bed. Sam told him
he should use a catheter but Tony said he thought he’d be fine, even though
Sam said pissing might burn. He wanted to feel what it’d be like to squat and
pee.
“I want my nuts cut off. Would you hate me for doing that?” Barry asked Jamie.
“I really don’t want you to hurt yourself at all, but it’s your body. I’ve
been here long enough to know that your nuts aren’t all that important except
for having kids. If you honestly feel you need them gone, cut them off. I’ll
still be here for you.” Jamie said.
Barry kissed him and walked to the table. Billy was wiping tools and turned to
look at him.
“Yes?” Billy asked.
“Castrate me.” Barry said.
Billy looked at him, then at Perry.
“How do you want it?” Billy asked.
“Just cut them off.” Barry replied.
“What he means is, do you just want them banded and removed or cleaned up like
me?” Perry asked showing him his cleaned scrotal area.
“I want to look like Art. Like a guy born with no nuts and has a flat
scrotum.” Barry said.
“Well, that’s easy enough. Hop up here and we’ll clean you up in a few
minutes,” Perry said.
Barry stretched out on the table and spread his legs. Perry reached over and
grabbed his scrotum and lopped off the bottom half, exposing his small
testicles. He tied Barry's testicles off and removed them, dropping them in
the pan with an audible plunking sound. Then he sewed up the remains of
Barry’s scrotum and sealed it with glue.
“OK, Mister Barry, all done. Go show off your new you.” Billy said, helping
Barry to sit up so he wouldn’t pull anything.
Barry walked over to Jamie and stood there in front of him. Jamie reached out
and gently touched Barry’s vacated scrotum. Barry leaned down and kissed Jamie
in front of all of us. Jamie looked around quickly but looked at Barry and
kissed him back. They got up and went back indoors, taking Barry’s balls with
them. It took Barry a few extra minutes but he got up the stairs and into bed.
Jamie lay beside him and rubbed his stomach. They didn’t move until morning.
Matt was smiling after them and shaking his head.
“I was sure that guy would not get fixed. Just goes to show you, it take all
kinds.” Matt said, getting up to go see what his better-half was up to.
Perry walked over to me and sat down.
“So, are you ready to go back to work tomorrow?” Perry asked.
“Oh, shit, I don’t want to. This week has been a little stressful but not
having to deal with the company has been a sort-of vacation.” I said. “I can’t
wait to see what Mother Dawson has done. I bet she’s on her third nurse
already.” I said smiling; looking around to make sure David didn’t hear me.
“What are you looking for? There ain’t no one pout here but you and me and
Billy and Brewer.” Perry said smiling his devilish smile. “Pussy-whipped.” He
said teasingly.
“You should know, Dawg,” I replied jabbing his peck.
“Come on, let’s go soak a while. I need to unwind some.” Perry suggested.
We went to the hot tub and stepped in. Perry pulled me to his lap and started
rubbing his generous penis along my ass-crack. I leaned back against his chest
and allowed him to penetrate me. He had me shooting in minutes but he didn’t
stop. He lasted another long while. I had another climax before he had his
first. We sat there a while, enjoying the heated water and each other’s
company. Ed and Larry had come back from the barn and Billy and Brewer got
them cleaned up under the deck showerhead where we could watch. They were real
attentive to their ‘owners’ and soon were being lead up to bed by them. We saw
lights going out all over the house except for the kitchen. Matt came back
outside to see where we’d gone and he stepped over the side of the hot tub
too, setting his dry martini on the ledge. He was smiling about Mark, Mac and
David huddled up around the kitchen table plotting the demise of all of our
bank accounts. We just smiled and looked at each other. Yeah, we’re pussy-
whipped.
This eventful weekend was drawing to a close. New work routines and school to
look forward to. Mac and David both were going to stay home to rear our
collective kids. Matt has to get up earlier now that he has a longer drive
into Midtown. I told Perry, I’d need Brewer to go in with me now to cover for
David. He said take him, put him to work. It’ll be good for him. He is a
distraction for Larry. Yes, he’s a distraction all right. I wonder how much
work I’ll get done with him around. Maybe after the novelty wears off. Jamie
and Barry are to start on the schoolhouse tomorrow; I wonder how much they’ll
get done both having stitches now. Jacob and Jim drove in real late. The boys
were dragging their feet. They must have been bored out of their minds at
Jacob’s friends’ party. The boys went on up to bed. Jim and Jacob went in for
a while but came back outside and stepped into the tub. They said the party
was a real bore, but it was necessary for Jacob to make a few new connections.
He and Jim announced their intentions to marry and got mixed reviews but they
didn’t care. It sort-of helped Jacob weed out the bad seeds and allow him to
concentrate on the folks who would be eager to talk to him. Jim met a few
people from his old life as a coach. They were surprised to find out Jim was
gay but congratulated him on his impending nuptials. We just lay back and
watched the stars until Mac and David called us in. It was near midnight when
we all got out of the hot tub. I was so relaxed; I fell asleep right away.
David crawled in bed sometime after I did but I never knew it until morning.
He and Mac stayed up half the night with Mark going over every detail. School
will be nice for the boys with the teacher asleep all day.
The next few weeks are going to be busy but that’s another story.
Next time; ‘The Schoolhouse’.
* * * |
La punition | TESTICLES, Béatrice | Mon chéri,
Je t'écris cette petite lettre pour te donner du courage, car je sais que
demain ŕ l'aube tu dois monter sur l'échafaud pour y subir ton supplice.
Je pense que le tribunal n'y a pas été de main morte mais je crois que tu
mérite cette punition car tes crimes sont odieux: avoir abusés de moi et
d'autres jeunes femmes comme tu l'a fait pour obtenir des renseignements sur
les défenses de notre pays et les revendre ŕ nos principaux concurrents semble
la plus méprisable trahison.
J'imagine bien demain matin:
Mme Béatrice et ses trois jeunes aides Aline, Corinne et Sylvie vont venir te
chercher dans ta cellule ou tu es constamment attaché pour éviter toute
automutilation, car je suis sur que si tu pouvais tu te serais arraché les
couilles pour éviter le bistournage par Mme Béatrice, elles commenceront
certainement par te traire pour recueillir comme tous les jours depuis un mois
ton sperme pour faire le gâteau qu'elles mangeront le soir aux traditionnels
garden-parties aprčs l’exécution, ce dernier sperme elle va le mettre dans une
seringue et tu auras la chance de l'avaler au cours de la soirée se sera le
dernier car tes couilles n'ont produiront plus, aprčs cette derničre traite
elles te feront un brin de toilette, lavement, rasage total du pubis et des
couilles tu monteras sur l'échafaud les Mains menottes dans les dos on
t'allongera sur le "Travail" (c'est comme cela que l'on nomme le chevalet
spécial pour maintenir en bonne position le mâle ŕ châtrer), tu auras la tęte
plus basse que le cul tes jambes seront attachées de chaque coté aux montants
arričres cela dégagera tes parties, tes bras seront attachés aux montants
avants dans cette position tu ne pourras que subir la castration, ensuite les
jeunes aides de Mme Béatrice te feront un peu la morale en te préparant, car
tu sais elles savent faire languir le sujet et le public ne perdent rien du
spectacle, je pense qu'Aline passera devant toi et soulčvera ta tęte pour te
faire sentir sa chatte, si tu as de la chance il se pourrais męme qu'elle te
pisse au Visage, Corinne se seras sűrement mis un god dans le cul elle te le
fera voir bien en place dans son anus, elle le sortira de son cul, te le
passera sous le nez pour te le faire sentir et aidée par Aline qui te tiendras
par les cheveux en te pinçant le nez et te le mettras dans la bouche pour que
tu aies quelque chose ŕ sucer, tu te doute bien qu'il ne soit pas trčs propre
car c'est un gode spécial avec des aspérités qui retiens bien les matičres,
Sylvie te prépareras l'anus avec du lubrifiant, car sur ce genre de chevalet
conçu par Mme Béatrice, un gros god fixé sur une traverse articulée du haut
des montants viens ficher dans ton anus pour te maintenir le bassin, encore
quelques sangles pour Maintenir les cuisses ouvertes une autre sur le haut de
tes reins et une autre sur tes épaules pour te plaquer sur le chevalet une
ficelle pour te maintenir la bitte sur le ventre et je pense que se seras au
tour de Mme Béatrice, aprčs la solennelle lecture de la sentence, de pratiquer
avec sa dextérité légendaire cette manipulation qui fera de toi un chien
châtré.
Elle commencera certainement comme toujours par passer devant toi et en
remontant sa robe de te lâcher des pets dans les narines ensuite une de ses
aides lui tendra une ficelle avec un noeux coulant, qu'elle te passera autour
des testicules elle tirera dessus pour faire voir au public que tu as bien tes
deux couilles quelques pichenettes avec le pouce et l'index pour te faire
geindre un peu, il peut arriver quelle donne également un coup de baton sur le
sac pour le rendre plus sensible ŕ la manipulation, elle te libérera de cette
ficelle et lentement elle commencera ce travail de bistournage pour briser tes
vaisseaux testiculaires qui irriguent tes glandes, si elle voulait tout
pourrai ętre fini en dix minutes mais tu pense bien que vu l’ampleur de tes
crimes elle feras durer le supplice au Moins deux heures avec quelques
intermčdes pour le public, ton supplice fera l'exemple de ce qui attends ceux
qui auraient envie de trahir leur patrie pour de l'argent, ces petits
intermčdes sont aussi pour que tu puisses apprécier toutes les sensations
douloureuses de la castration hongroise qui est trčs lente, car lorsque Mme
Béatrice reprendra le travail de torsion, tu tenteras de te libérer en
gigotant et en ruant dans tes liens mais se seront sans espoir tes cris de
douleurs seront étouffés par le god merdeux que tu es en train de mordre et de
déguster, au cours d'un autre intermčde Sylvie viendra te graisser toute la
partie testiculaire avec de l'huile de cuisine cela permettra un grande
souplesse dans les torsions suivantes, ce massage, par les douces mains de
Sylvie, des tes Couilles endolories te feront geindre et baver.
Ensuite Mme Béatrice reprendra les torsions et les étirements tu sais il
existe pas mal de maničre pour châtrer un mâle celle ci est une des plus lente
et douloureuse, deux de tes complices moins impliqués que toi ont eu les
testicules passés au rasoir ce matin je trouve cela trop rapide il n'y a que
les bourreaux qui se régalent de cuisiner les roupettes au vin blanc et de les
déguster.
Il y a deux autres méthodes toutes aussi douloureuse qui sont pratiqué dans
les prisons du gouvernement ŕ laquelle j'ai déjŕ assisté et qui sont assez
lentes :
La méthode des Casseaux : qui sont deux petits billots de bois, dont en se
servent pour comprimer les testicules, et celui plus efficace des anneaux de
gommes : sorte de gros élastique mis en place avec une pince spéciale qui
sépare les testicules de la base de la verge et qui avec le temps fait se
dessécher les glandes et va jusqu'ŕ couper le sac.
Il ne faut pas oublier la Pince ŕ castrer : dite de Burdizzo sorte de tenaille
géante, comme celle que Mme Béatrice te feras passer sur tes cordons
testiculaires par Aline, bien sur eux sont déjŕ rompus par le bistournage,
mais elle fait toujours cela, ŕ la fin du supplice, pas seulement pour assurer
ta totale castration, mais plutôt pour te faire gigoter encore un peu,
alternativement a droite et ŕ gauche, elle sert ŕ écraser les cordons qui
véhiculent les spermatozoďdes et les vaisseaux qui irriguent la glande, elle
précisera bien ŕ Aline de veiller ŕ laisser la pince serrée en position au
moins deux minutes afin que l'écrasement et l'ischémie (arręt de la
circulation du sang) soit complčte.
Enfin comme tu peux le constater personnellement je suis satisfaite c'est tu
as été condamné ŕ la castration du style de celle que l'on fait subir aux
chevaux avec la méthode hongroise Mme Béatrice est une spécialiste car il faut
une trčs grande dextérité pour pratiquer cette méthode.
Je vais aussi te parler de ta salope de complice femelle, j'ai assisté ŕ une
partie de son interrogatoire, et je peux te dire que Mme Béatrice lui ŕ fait
avouer tout ce qu'elle savait sur toi elle lui ŕ męme fait raconter comment
vous baisiez, lorsqu'elle est sortie de la salle de torture elle avait le cul
bien écarté parés avoir subit toute sorte de pénétrations.
* * * |
|
Voyeur | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Disclaimer: All persons, places, and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental. A gay, pedophilic, eunuch phys. ed. coach evesdrops on his students in the showers and locker room with concealed surveillance cameras and is surprised to discover how many are gay. | Jack Miller had been interested in sports and especially in coaching since
boyhood. Owing to a mild case of cerebral palsy, he had poor coordination and
realized early on that he could never be a professional athlete. Coaching,
though, appealed to him, and he decided to go to Springdale College and major
in physical education and coaching.
In the summer between his senior year of high school and his freshman year at
Springdale, Jack's father, Dr. Ralph Miller, caught him buttfucking a younger
boy. He realized then that Jack was both homosexual and pedophilic. Ralph
pointed out to Jack that, though these tendencies might not get him into
trouble in college, if he got a job teaching physical education in high school
or junior high, he would be in great danger of getting into serious trouble.
not only of losing his job but of ending up in prison.
"I know that coaching is your lifelong dream, Jack, but your sexual
orientation is at odds with it. Despite claims to the contrary, no one has
ever "cured" or "converted" a homosexual to a heterosexual. The tendency to
pedophilia just exacerbates the problem. Unless these tendencies can be
nullified or strongly controlled, you SHOULD NOT go into coaching at the
public school level. " explained Dr. Miller.
"Well, you're a doctor, what can I do about it Dad ? There's nothing else I
want to do with my life. All I've ever been interested in is sports, but I'm
not physically fit to be a professional athlete." "Well, frankly, son, you're
not psychologically fit to be a coach, except at the college or professional
level. You MUST NOT COACH kids ! The only solution I can see is to reduce your
sex urge to such a low level that there would be no problem in controlling
it." "How ?" "Castration" "WHAT ? How can I be a coach if I'm a eunuch ?" "By
taking just enough testosterone to keep your body from being weakened or
feminized, but not enough to give you much of a sex urge."
"In other words, I have to choose between my career and my sex life."
"Exactly"
"When ?" "This Summer, no later than August."
Jack worried and fretted throughout June and July. He didn't intend to make a
career of coaching at the junior high or high school level, but he'd probably
have to start at those levels before he could get a job coaching at the
college or professional level. Even in college, he'd have to be careful,
though all of his students would be over the age of consent. But, what the
hell ? he'd had to be careful in high school too. It just part of being queer.
Still, it hadn't been easy, and there were some close calls.
By going into coaching, though, he'd be putting himself in that kind of
situation all the time.
Finally, Jack decided that sports and coaching were more important to him than
sex. So, he approached his father about being castrated. First, though, he had
to ask one question that had been nagging at him. "Dad, why weren't you more
upset when you caught me having sex with Jimmy ?" "Because it was consensual.
Jimmy was over the age of consent, though, just barely. But, mainly because I
had sex with other boys in my teens also. I'm bisexual and I made a conscious
choice to lead a heterosexual life. Obviously, it didn't work very well. I
don't think your mother suspects why our marriage was a failure, but I know. "
"Well, I realize that a coaching career with me as attracted to other and
younger boys as I am wouldn't work either. I've decided to choose my career
over sex." "Well, Jack, remember that it's not an irrevocable choice. If you
thought that you would ever want to marry and have kids, it would be, unless
you made deposits in a sperm bank first, but if that doesn't interest you, if
ever you decide that you made the wrong choice, all you have to do is take a
larger dose of testosterone."
"I'm ready whenever you are , Dad." "Tomorrow morning at 9:00." The operation
was routine, performed in Dr. Miller's office under local anaesthesia. Jack's
severed testicles were preserved in a jar of formalin. Two weeks later, Jack
resumed all his normal activities on a low maintenance dosage of testosterone.
He found that he had very little sex urge but that he could still masturbate
if he wanted to.
When Jack arrived at Springdale College, there were two things he did not
bring with him: a jockstrap and a razor. His roommate, Ben, on the other hand,
had balls the size of limes and unpacked a dozen jockstraps because he wore
one all day every day. Jack soon noticed that Ben jerked off in bed every
night and spent a lot of time in the john every day. Ben also talked in his
sleep mostly about somebody named Larry, especially when he was having a wet
dream.
Finally, one night when Ben was lying on his back with a boner and moaning
about what good head Larry gave him, Jack slipped over to his bed and went
down on Ben just as he was about to come. While he was sucking out the last
drops of Ben's load, Ben woke up and realized what was going on. He laughed
and said "Shit. I wish I'd known in September that you're gay. I wouldn't have
had to jack off so much." "Well, now you don't have to any more. I'm available
whenever you need relief."
Ben was rather surprised that a eunuch would even be interested in
cocksucking, but Jack assured him that he enjoyed it just as much as he had
when he had balls. Jack had also discovered that, though he didn't get
anywhere as excited as he had in high school, and didn't get a boner, he still
enjoyed looking at the bodies of the other guys in the showers. It was nice to
be able to enjoy it and not have his body betray his interest.
Jack and Ben arranged to be roommates for the entire four years they spent at
Springdale. Jack blew Ben about 5 times a day and got jerked off in return
whenever he wanted it. Ben, though queer, didn't worry about it because he was
attracted only to adults, and didn't feel that it would interfere with his
career.
Of course, everybody in all of his gym classes noticed that Jack had no balls,
but he said that he had had an accident and nobody pursued the matter any
further. To Ben, though, he told the truth. Ben was shocked and said that he
wouldn't have had the courage to make that choice.
College days must come to an end, though, and college friends must part and go
their own ways. Ben got a job teaching Phys. Ed and coaching football in a
high school in upper New York state. Jack got a job at a very posh prep.
school, Braxton Academy. The boys were 14 through 17 years old and Jack found
them very attractive. He was glad that he had been castrated, for he surely
would have got in trouble with some of them if he hadn't.
Jack taught Health & Hygeine, Physical Education (mostly calithenics), and
swimming. He coached soccer and lacrosse. His office was in the locker room,
directly across from the shower room. He had a view directly into the shower
room while sitting in his office. The field of view was poor, though. He
couldn't see the boys near the front of the room.
He did notice one boy who would always leave the shower room with a boner
which he hadn't had when he entered. He apparently showered in the front of
the shower room, outside of Jack's view. He also noticed boys going behind the
lockers, usually in pairs, but couldn't see what they were up to.
Speculating about their activities provided the basis for Jack's best
masturbation fantasies. But he would have loved to be able to see what they
were doing. Amongst the junk mail which Jack received at the school was a
security equipment catalog. Browsing through it one day, he noticed some very
small wireless security cameras, easily concealed and almost unnoticeable. The
receiver would handle four cameras and display their output as selected
through a computer's monitor.
Jack had a computer in his office and the cameras were not very expensive. All
he needed was access to the locker room for a while when no one else was
around. To his surprise and delight, Jack was asked to take a day or two of
his Spring Break to inventory the athletic equipment while the gymnasium was
closed for Break. He assured the administration that he was quite willing to
do so.
By the time Spring Break was over, there were two cameras concealed in two
corners of the ceiling of the shower room, one over stall #4 in the boys'
room, the only one that had a door that could be latched, and one looking down
into the area behind the lockers. Jack could choose to display whichever he
wished on his computer monitor.
After the first gym class after the boys had returned. Jack tried the camera
in stall #4. BINGO ! Marty Hendricks was in there jerking off into the toilet.
For a 14-year-old, he shot an impressive load. Jack switched to the ceiling
camera at the back of the shower room and was amazed to see three boys jerking
off openly in the shower room, out of sight through the door. Neil Gordon and
Stuart Flint, both with boners, looked around furtively and then slipped
behind the lockers. The light back there was dim, but Stuart could clearly be
seen blowing Neil.
Jack stood up and jerked off into the waste paper basket. The first test of
the locker and shower room surveillance system was an outstanding success.
Now, if he were to hook a VCR up to the computer, he'd have a permanent record
of their
sexual peccadilloes which just might be useful. It was worth thinking about.
An hour later, there was another class hitting the showers. Stall # 4 had two
occupants, Jeremiah Worthington IV was holding onto his ankles while Alexander
Chamberlain gave him a seminal enema much of which spurted back out onto his
own belly. For the moment, nothing was going on in the shower room. However,
behind the lockers, someone, perhaps W. Burton Ackerly, was playing "Lucky
Pierre" , blowing Terrence Aloysius Mulcahey and being reamed in the butt by
Sylvestre Legendre.
Jack was beginning to wonder if anybody in the whole damned student body was
straight. Back to the shower room, all but two of the boys had left. Taking
advantage of their solitude, those two were kissing and groping each other.
One of them dropped to his knees and went down on the other who was clearly
Donald Nickerson. The cocksucker proved to be Drew Pinkham.
Jack went to a split-screen format so that he could watch the threesome behind
the lockers and the two in the showers simultaneously. Ackerly was creaming
all over the floor while gulping Mulcahey's cum down . Legendre was pulling
out of his ass, a few drops of jism still dripping from his dick. When Donald
Nickerson came in his mouth, Drew Pinkham dumped a large load of jism onto the
shower room floor.
The next bunch worth watching would be the rough tough soccer team. Jack put
them through their paces for an hour and a half of intensive practise before
letting them hit the showers. If any of them were queer, they were probably
too tired to fuck around. Ah youth ! How wrong he was. They all crowded into
the shower room together and three of them blocked the doorway with their
bodies so that no one outside could see what was going on .
What it was was an orgy. No swishy cocksucking here. It was all strictly anal.
The guys blocking the door weren't left out. Some of their buddies backed up
to them and impaled themselves on their rigid prongs. After a while they were
replaced by 3 others so that they could take it up the ass also. Nobody got
left out. Everybody fucked and everybody got fucked. Watching them with the
two ceiling cameras in split-screen, Jack jerked off for the third time.
Jack realized that jerking off just wasn't good enough. He wanted somebody to
blow and he wanted somebody to buttfuck him . Well, as soon as he had some
incriminating videos to ensure their cooperation and silence, he'd take care
of that.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
See what's free at AOL.com.
* * * |
THE TIES THAT BIND XV (B)~Sojourner | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, CONSENSUAL SLAVERY | PART XV (B)~Second part of XV finds Beau still in bondage and see him through release. His Family is there to offer love, encouragement and support. (among other things!) He begans to workthrough his childhood and is forced to deal with unpleasant situations of his early life. He\'s on his way......! | ` THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie Greywolf `
PART XV (B)~SOJOURNER
Part I~The Love Of Angels
| In the midst of pain a visitor took my mind,
into a quiet room away from Demon horrors,
I felt no pain, nor hurt, a place removed from time,
He loved me, held me close and cried for my tomorrows.
Canto 8~Slave’s Song~W. D. Dux
---
`
I was again set adrift into the unknown. Occasionally, I would be treated to
music. Complete works. I didn’t know if this was part of my training or just
for relaxation. Who ever chose the selections had me at their mercy ! I
recognized almost everything that was played except one piece that kept
repeating over and over like a coda at the end of each work. It was haunting!
It had the ethereal quality of some of Bartok’s night music. Darkly foreboding
yet utterly sensual. I listened to Poulenc’s Stabat Mater! His Gloria and
Organ Concerto. Followed by a piece that sounded like Bach with wrong notes:
Hindemith’s Organ Concerto for Organ and Winds. They must of played eight or
nine works.`
They fed me again. Wonderful soup broth again but this time it was different.
Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure these broths were tasty. It
tasted liked a War-wonton soup from Lee’s kitchen. Delicious. I was tired and
drifting off to sleep. I had hoped they would just let me rest! They did for a
long period of time. I had no idea how long as I was fast asleep when they
were getting ready to feed me again. It had to be approximately six hours. I
had ingested so much liquid in the form of soup broth I had to piss like a
race horse. Master Jim had instructed me to just let go as arrangements had
been made. I hoped so as I let forth a stream that would have rivaled
Johnstown.
I was gonna’ make it through this! No sweat! Although I was beginning to get a
bit cramped! It must of been the wee hours of the morning.
The two big Masters were snoozing on the King size leather covered futon.
Blaine was keeping watch. He moved swiftly over to his Old Man Beryl and
gently shook him. “Dad ! Wake up! You have to see this!” He gently shook the
Old Man awake. Big Jim awoke concerned for his charge.
“What is it Son?” Big Beryl asked in a less than wide awake tone.
“Dad! The small blue light is here! The one Master Earl told us about on the
phone the other day! Come see for yourselves! It came flying down the stairs
and buzzed around my head and even touched me on the cheek. It was Wes! The
moment he touched me I knew!”
“Now, calm down Son! Where’s this light?”
“There in the corner! I see it!” Said Big Jim.
“Blaine, get Jeb for me!” Jim asked of Blaine.
“Sure, Master Jim!” And Blaine was away in a flash.
“Let’s just sit in the chairs here Beryl so’s not to frighten him!” The two
big Man no sooner sat in the big overstuffed chairs and the light began to
move. It buzzed around Big Jim first then touched him lightly on the cheek and
did the same to Big Beryl. Beryl sucked in his breath like a new born infant.
“Holy Mother! It is Wes’s spirit! I could feel him all the way through my soul
and body. “Me too, Beryl! Wonderful! Was all Big Jim could say at the time as
he watched the light retreat to the corner again and just seem to sit on the
cold floor.
Blaine returned with Jeb. Jeb saw the blue light glowing in the corner and
stood next to the two Men in the chairs dressed only in his bathrobe. Has it
tried to communicate with either of you. The two big Men looked at each other
and started giggling like school boys.
“Did the same to us, it did to Blaine! Flew ‘round our heads three times then
kissed us on the cheek! It’s Wes! No doubt about it!”
“Maybe he’s frightened and doesn’t know how we’ll accept him?”Spoke Jeb. He
went over to the corner and squatted down on his haunches near the light but
not crowding it.
“Come on Son! Your loved here! No one is going to hurt you! Don’t sit on the
cold floor! Hop in my hand and let me hold you!” The light spun in a circle on
the floor then up and around Jeb’s head three times then bussed him on the
cheek. The old Man giggled at the familiarity of a smell, a pheromone, an
odor, a presence that filled him. It was unmistakably Wes! It came to rest on
the palm of his cupped hand.
“He has weight! And a certain mass! I can feel it!” Exclaimed Jeb as he walked
to the group with Wes’s essence in the palm of his hand. He sat in one of the
overstuffed chairs and gently lowered Wes’s light to the arm of the chair. It
spun around a couple of times, bounced up and down and then rested. It seemed
happy and they all laughed and felt more comfortable.
“Don’t worry Son! Big Jim is taking Damn good care of our boy! So is Beryl and
Blaine! Billy and Oscar will be hear this morning later with Master Burt. And
your Master will be here a little later to check on him too.” The light glowed
brighter in intensity and Master Jeb put his hand gently on top as if to pet
him and drew in a sharp breath.
“Wasn’t expecting to actually feel something but he has considerable mass and
I can feel Wes! Don’t know how to explain it but he’s there.”
“May I pet you Nephew?” Big Jim asked sheepishly of the light. It moved
swiftly over to the arm rest of Big Jim’s chair.
“I guess that’s a yes!” He laughed nervously. Then he gently placed his huge
hand over the light, felt and petted Wes’s essence. Big Beryl had to try too!
This time the light landed right on his big lap and Beryl let out a laugh you
could hear for a mile. He too gently felt and petted the light. Then the light
flew up to the ceiling and shot swiftly over to Beau and landed on his back.
It made an up and down motion.
“He wants someone to push him into Beau” Said Blaine.
“Not without Beau’s permission!” Said Big Jim. I’m official Dungeon Master
here and I’m responsible for our boy! Let me ask him.” Big Jim got on the
microphone connected to theearphones in Beau’s hood.
“Slave!” He said gently. “This is your Dungeon Master! Are you awake?”
Green light!
“This is going to sound funny but Wes is here and is asking to enter you! Is
it alright with you?”
Green light! Master Jim shrugged at the other three Men and placed his hand
over the light and gently pushed. All of a sudden Beau’s entire body began to
radiate blue and orange auras like St. Elmo’s fire on a ship. He was beautiful
and radiant. Almost like a leathered Angel. The four Men stood in awe.
“Now there’s a sight you don’t see every day!” Big Beryl spoke softly. The
rest chuckled at his low key statement.
“How many people have every witnessed communication with the dead.” Said Big
Jim.
“You really couldn’t call him dead if he’s still a sentient presence!” Said
Jeb.
“Sure makes me feel better about a here after!” Said Big Beryl.
“Yeah! Me too!” Agreed the other Men.
I felt Wes enter me. Again I took a big deep breath of air. I felt completely
relaxed with my old friend.
“Now, about that piece of pussy you offered me earlier.....” Wes just threw
back his head and laughed.
“You haven’t changed a bit! Not that I’d ever want you too! You were always
tops in my book love! And , yes, I’m here to give you a piece of my pussy you
didn’t get to have when I walked on this planet. They have given me that
sexual ability for a while to adjust because of what I was robbed of as a
child. Damn nice of ‘em too if you ask me.”
“Who is “them” Wes?”
“God’s children!”
“Angels?” I asked puzzled.
“Not exactly. They’re children of God, like you and me. I’m not a full fledged
one yet but I’m working on it. I’ll be there very soon. Then I will be
assigned someone to look after for a period of time until some of their
friends or loved ones pass and they will relieve me. I will then be on an
advisory board of numerous people I have watched after and will pass
judgements and outcome will be with “it’s” final approval.”
“It’s?”
“Well, yes! It’s hard to explain but what we called God is neither and both
male and female.And , huuuuu-neey, can that female side pitch a bitch! Woah!
Doggies! Don’t even want to be around when that happens. A few of the
Archangels have seen it and tell horrible stories that it ain’t pretty! Day of
rath stuff! Rains fire and brimstone! Buuurrr! Really scarey shit!”
“Well then, God doesn’t condemn us for being Gay?”
“Must not, Sweetie, I’m here! God doesn’t condemn any kind of love as long as
it’s consenting. Only people condemn each other when they pervert his word.
Those sanctimonious sons of bitches are the ones that are gonna’ be in big
trouble when they try to get here wearing all their finest piety!
“Are you an Angel Wes?”
“No Darlin’ I Ain’t! Got no wings and won’t have none either! Children of God
don’t really need them. I can go any where I like just by thinking about it!
What do I need with wings. Although I will have to admit that Michael the big
guy is one sexy dev......excuse me, Angel! Damn, he’s a Eunuch though! If he
had a pee-pee I’d suck him off in a minute. And those wings! I don’t know why
the Big Bopper made the Angels sexless but they're all really nice and gentle
souls.
They can be pretty fearsome if need be. I never considered that wings could be
sexy but Michael gave me a lift the other day and boy was that a thrill riding
in that big Man’s arms. Talk about Big Bird! Woah! His wings stretch from tip
to tip approximately twenty five feet! Few planes can boast that!
Nevertheless, he can be hell on wheels according to a few rumors I’ve heard
around here. I wouldn’t want him mad at me. Not much chance. I give him back a
lot of love too that I learned down here.
I really like him and he’s taken a shine to me I think! I’ve slept in his arms
a few nights and there’s no greater feeling of security than when you’re in
the arms of an Archangel and he folds those big wings around you. One of his
mates watched over me when the Demon did those horrible things to me. You
remember! The one that taught me to go into the secret room and he would come
and hold me until the monster had finished with me. His name is Jonathan. He
introduced me to Michael. Michael is really beautiful!”
“You know how gorgeous our Master is, well double that and you have some ideal
of Michael! He’s not at all stuck up either. Has time for everybody! Kids
crawl up in his lap and he tells them stories by the hour! I admit to crawling
up in his lap a couple times myself. So what! He didn’t push me away. He knew
I’d never had that as a child and just hugged and loved me. They don’t have
sex but that doesn’t stop them from radiating love to any one that needs it.
It’s kind a like getting a booster shot to be around one”
“So God doesn’t condemn us for being Gay! I was so worried about that but knew
I couldn’t live my life any other way.”
“You love don’t you?” Asked Wes.
“Lately, everyone I come in contact with that is even remotely connected with
this family I fall head over heals in love with! Yes, I am very much in love
and feel loved!”
“Bingo!” Smiled Wes. “That’s all “it” cares about. That you learned how to
love while you were here. That you learned not only to give but to receive
love! What do you think Heaven is built on? No! It ain’t rock n’ roll!” He
said laughing taking off his clothes.
Wes stood there in front of me almost a God himself. Damn was he transformed!
From just a small little buddy of mine to this body beautiful with the cutest
little cunt you ever saw. I immediately got rock hard! Not to be missed by Wes
as he smiled wickedly.
“ I knew you’d approve! We may not get another chance ‘cause I’m looking after
some other folks too right now so lets make this a good one Darlin’” Wes joked
with me, “I think I shook up the others out there with my little blue light
routine. I can appear any way I want too. That always gets ‘em though! They
can relate to it more as a si-fi thing than reality! A little blue light they
can understand! An apparition is a little harder for them to swallow! Too
threatening!
Somehow I found myself stretched out on a comfortable bed making sweet love to
Wes (David) of my past. Damn he was hot. He reached down and guided my
erection into his little Man-cunt and I felt the greatest sensation as I
slowly lowered myself into his depths. It felt like it was made for my dick.
“I knew you’d think that!” He said laughing and working his hips under me.
“Fuck me good and hard Beau! Gimme’ some of your sweet lovin’ then take me
hard like our Master does. Damn I miss him for that! He knew how to make this
pussy sing for hours afterward. I know **you** can Darlin’” I wasn’t going to
let him down.
Beau continued to radiate an aura that changed colors from blues to golds to
deep reds and royal purples. Jeb went off to make a phone call. The three
other Men sat and watched in wonder. They could see Beau's penis being
manipulated on it's own. Something was stroking it and Beau was responding as
best he could in the bondage. It didn't really seem that the bondage was too
much problem. The pheromones that were emanating from these auras was enough
to make all three Men want to pounce on each other.
"Damn and Tarnation!" Stated Big Beryl, "Is that making you guys as hot as it
is me?? To be sitting here watching this...well, just look at me?" They
laughed at his roaring erection.
"Every bit as hot! Dad!" Answered Big Jim."I just can't believe what I'm
seeing!"
"Get your butt on the futon Blaine that little ass hasn't been fucked yet
tonight and I need to show it some equal time!"
"There is a God!" Blaine said under his breath but loud enough both Men could
hear it and get a laugh out of it! "That's making both holes drip Dad! Love to
have you come in by the back door! Listen to me I sound like a two bit whore!"
"When j’ew raise your prices Hon?" Dad asked laughing. Jim and Blaine roared
with laughter. “Good one Dad!” smiled Blaine
"Now get on the leather bed and hit the position!" He barked as he snapped his
fingers at his slave. Blaine leaped for the futon and his feet were around his
head, his arms rapped tightly around his legs to hold them in position, his
ass raised for maximum ease of entrance for his Master, ready for his Master
to mount him like a Cowboy that just robbed the Bank. He wasn't disappointed
when the Old Man dropped his cod piece leaned over his slave for him to
slather it good with his spit and make a little love to it.
Beryl went to the foot of the futon and Blaine watched carefully to raise or
lower his ass for his Master's ease. He lowered it just a little and felt the
Old Man swiftly lean in toward him and he was instantly filled with Man cock!
He sucked in air and began to thank his Master for taking him that hard. He
needed that and he promised to give him the best fuck he possibly could. Knew
his Master need to get some good slave ass fucking in tonight and please
Master take all of that worthless slave ass-pussy you want!
His slave always appreciated a good butt fucking from his Master but something
was Magical about tonight and he needed it as much as his Master!
"That's enough slave! You talk to me again when your Master is really getting
the good stuff and you’re giving it up to me! I want to hear how good that big
fourteen incher is doing you then slave!
"Yes Sir Master!" Beryl rolled Blain over on his side and started fucking him
from behind"Come on Son!" He spoke to Big Jim "He needs it in the front too!
He can handle us both!""Please Master Jim!" Blaine urged.
"Ordinarily I wouldn't but since your both so kind to offer, shit, here I come
Blaine!" Old Babe was already poking out of his cod piece and it leaped out as
he unsnapped it! There Babe stood straight out from the Giant harder that he
had remembered it getting since the last time Beau sucked him off! He lay on
his side and Blaine ask permission to guide him home. Permission given Blaine
had that big Man's dick sunk in his Man-cunt to the depths.
All this time, the slave in bondage was unaware of what was going on upon the
leather covered futon less than three feet away from him. He was getting some
good stuff from a Child of God or as Wes jokingly called himself, "Earth
Angel." Wes was moving his hips about and fucking more like a demon from the
other realm. He knew that his earthly savior number two was about to get it
and he wanted to make it as good for him as possible he started pushing his
muscular hips upward to meet each of Beau's strong sure strokes. Wes arched
his back.........
The three Men lay joined together stopped their fucking for a moment to look
as Beau arched in the sling and levitated unfettered by the chains. He was
suspended in bondage, floating in mid air.
"Would you look at that?" Whispered Big Beryl to the other two Men. Just as he
said that Beau erupted like Mt. St. Helens. One huge orgasm, followed by two
smaller ones. Then he sank and dropped back to the suspension of the chains.
"You need to stop and clean him up Son?"
"Naw! He'll be alright 'till we get this slave taken care of and then I'll
tend to him. Besides he's making some sweet love to Wes right about now!" And
so I was!
The two big Men continued to fuck Blaine until he started to vibrate all over
and yelled to them both. "Oh God! Masters! I can't hold it much longer. Dad,
I'm so sorry but this is just too much for me to hold on!. You both are
hitting the button one right after the other.""Get it slave! You have both our
permission!" Blaine tried to bury Big Jim dick in his Man-cunt as he felt his
ass try to bite off his Master's dick in his ass. He shot and kept shooting as
Big Jim and his Master got theirs at the same time. Blaine got so damn excited
he shot the second time out his relocated piss hole making him wet between his
legs.
He started thanking the two big Men and was exhausted as Big Jim pulled out
and handed Blaine a damp towel.
"Not tonight!" Barked Big Beryl as he grabbed the towel from Blaine and threw
it up on the bed. He moved down and snapped his fingers for Blaine to hit the
position and he responded as fast as it took the Old Man to snap! The Old Man
smiled at his slave and started eating his come off the leather bed covering.
He got both his slave’s loads lapped up and moved up and cleaned every bit
around his slave’s legs and teased the crap out of Blaine as he tongued and
sucked on the sensitive little hole to get it clean. Blaine thought he had
died and gone to heaven!
Big Beryl had just finished cleaning his slave and they were laying together
making love as Jeb came down the stairs with a Man unfamiliar to Big Beryl!
Blaine recognize him immediately. Jim Redfeather.
“Dad it’s the Chief, Jim Redfeather that Master Earl told us about on the
phone the other night! He ran to him nude and fell to his feet and kissed both
his boots! Jim put his hand down for Blaine to kiss and put against his
forehead.
"Get up here Lt. Kelley and show this Master love!" Blaine jumped up and
kissed and hugged Chief. Kissed him and hugged him again! Then he started
crying and so did the Chief.
"Chief you're the last Goddamn person I'd expect to come down those stairs!"
"Didn't Beau tell you I'm working for him now?"
"Well, we haven't had a chance to talk to him since the last pool party but
Master Earl told us about you!" Big Beryl had walked up with all fourteen
inches still wet from fucking his slave hanging out of his leathers.. Chief
started laughing as he shook his hand and said to him,
"Sir! It is an honor and a privilege to meet Lt. Kelley's Master! I don't mean
to be rude by laughing Sir but I'm just getting use to meeting people who
think nothing of running around with each other in the raw. It's delightful
and I look forward to it myself."
"It's an honor to meet you to Son! If it'll make you feel more at home take
yours off too!" "With Master Jeb's permission I will!"
"Follow your heart Son! You’re with people who love you!" Chief began to take
his clothes off and laid his leathers and clothes in a neat pile in one of the
holding cells. He could see the auras that Beau was giving off as he came back
to join the other Men.
"I'd say he is having love with some one or just got through!" Stated the fine
looking Man. "How'd you know that?" Asked Big Jim.
"I can see auras around people but his isn't hard to see. You all can see it
can't you!"
They all nodded in agreement. "It was brighter a while ago when he was having
sex with Wes. He levitated out of the chains and reached a climax. It's still
all over the deck over there! I haven't cleaned him up yet. I was just going
to do that."
"Can I help Master Jim?"
"If you like Son! Damn Chief you're a fine looking young Man out of your
clothes! You’re good looking in your clothes but like that you...uhh.... sort
of stand out, so to speak!" Then the big Man laughed at his own joke. As Big
Jim and the Chief cleaned up under Beau and wiped him off with a damp towel
Jeb told Beryl and Blaine how he and Big Jim had come to meet Jim Redfeather
and was hoping to help him gain admittance into the Family.
“He’s got my vote!” Spoke up Blaine quickly, ‘Course mine don’t count for much
but I like to think the Old Man takes my opinion into consideration once in a
while. I knew Chief in Nam and I had no idea he was the one that patched our
boy up! That makes him alright in my book!”
“Have to go with my slave on this one Jeb! Besides, he’s just to damn pretty
not to let in the Family!” He laughed his big laugh.
While helping Big Jim clean up Chief watched Big Jim carefully! The loving
care Big Jim put into cleaning his slave in training, didn’t go unnoticed by
Jim Redfeather. They walked away and sat in the big chairs.
“You’re deeply in love with Beau!” He stated softly not to be heard by the
others who were deep in their own conversation. Big Jim looked at him like he
was an impertinent school boy then smiled at the good looking Man.
“You still interested in subbing for me Son?” An obvious move to change the
subject.
“Sure Master Jim if you look me in the eye and answer my last question!” Chief
insisted. “Not gonna’ let me get away with that one, are you Kid?” He looked
down at his beer.
“You know I can’t sub for you if you’re in love with my Friend and he’s in
love with you! You knew that before you asked me the question! I’m honored you
would even think to ask me but I knew that afternoon we met there was
something between you!”
“I asked Beau on the way home what was going on and he did the same thing you
did, just changed the subject. I didn’t push but I felt pain....some sorrow!
Was I wrong Master?”
“Well, it looks like you’re gonna’ be Family so I’ll tell you the truth! Yes!
I love him more than I have ever loved any person in my life and I would do
almost any thing to insure his happiness! Beau and I fell in love the minute
we laid eyes on each other! Beau followed his heart and told me he had fallen
in love with me! I rejected him knowing all the while I was lying to myself. I
should have claimed him right then and there but Jeb had someone else in mind
for him. He asked me not to interfere but it was too late.”
“I had already fallen head over heels in love with the little shit! I did what
my life long friend asked of me without even questioning him or asking him to
reconsider. Beau met Earl by accident. Maybe not by accident, the jury’s still
out on that one! Anyway, they spent one weekend together and fell very much in
love. Does that answer your question Son?”
“Eloquently! Sir! I won’t go into it but it must be tough knowing he is
intended for Master Earl!”
“Yes and no! Yes that he is going to be any other Man’s slave! That he is
going to be Earl D. Shaw’s slave, no! If I were given a choice of any Master I
would rather see him with other than me it would be Earl D. Not only because
he’s my Brother in this Family but because he’s a good, honest, caring,
demanding, tough discipline, Master! Under him Beau will have a chance to
bloom as the slave he was always meant to be.
He will be loved by a big hearted Man that knows how to give and receive love
from his slave without blurring the lines! Under me? Well, I’d spoil him
rotten!” Big Jim smiled a wicked smile and laughed.
“However the main reason is, they fell in love, and Master Earl D. Shaw, my
Brother, is gone.....outa’ sight.....over the hill....crazy in love with the
Kid!! You’re so perceptive you should have seen that!” He said yanking Chief’s
chain.
“I did see it! It’s right there! But I just couldn’t understand the love
between you two! It’s none of my business, especially since I’m new to this
group, but it had me intrigued! How does Beau handle it?”
“Jeb required Beau to spend a weekend with us after his initial weekend with
Earl. Jeb is a wise Man when it comes to the human heart and he wanted to
cement the bond between Beau and Earl. Absence makes that heart grow fonder
stuff! You know what I’m talking about!” Chief nodded his head in agreement.
“Well, Beau let his hair down with me, laid his cards on the table, pulled
down all the fences, exposed his feelings bare to me! He was brave enough to
give me a second chance and I wasn’t about to hold back or be coy the second
time! We decided to love each other as much as we could! Not to hold back when
alone and accept the circumstances of our lives! He’s more than kept his part
of the agreement and I hope I have as well”
“He loves me as much as I do him but it’s evolving to a different kind of love
than passion. Oh, there’s passion there too! We have become relatives! He’s
like the Kid brother I never had! He’s like the best friend in grade school
you could tell the secrets of your soul and know he would never tell any one.
Furthermore, he would never laugh at you. Maybe with you but never at you. He
makes me laugh! He can find something funny in almost anything! He’s one of
the only people in my life that can make me laugh at myself! He’s a natural
clown and can innocently keep Jeb and I in stitches by the hour! Finally, Beau
is becoming my slave-child that I will be Fathering to his new world of
Master/slaves. I want only the best for him and will do my part to see he gets
it!”
“Damn Master Jim, I hope someone can say something that wonderful about me
someday with half the conviction!” Said Jim Redfeather softly. “I respect both
your feelings andnow my answer would have to be , no Sir! I want to try
subbing for you but can’t! You understand why!”
“I do Chief! Lighten up! I may talk you into it yet! Remember, Beau wants the
same for me! If he thought there was a glimmer of a chance between you and me
he would insist on us trying! I know him that well! Time changes a lot of
things too Chief. You may feel differently after Beau starts living with Earl
D. on a permanent basis. Then too, you may find a slave yourself and fall in
love. I don’t think you have what it takes to be a slave or even sub for a
Man! Now, that’s not a put down! It simply means I don’t think your brain
could think of yourself that way for too long. It may fascinate you to try it!
It did me!”
“You mean you’ve tried being a slave to some Man?”
“When I was younger! Yes! The Man was kind enough to realize that I was really
trying but my heart just wasn’t in it! If I ever could do anything for you it
may be to let you sub for me for a set period of time, then call Kings-X and
see what you think. I know what you would say.”
“To be honest Sir! I think I do too! It’s just I find you someone I have
always dreamed of having for a big Brother!”
“Well, hell, Kid! That’s easy enough! Give it time and you’ll have that big
Brother. I could use another little Brother. I’m gonna’ lose mine in a couple
months and I’m taking applications.” He smiled the sweetest smile at Jim
Redfeather that melted Chief’s heart! “Thank you Master Jim! I’ll look forward
to the day I am deserving enough in your eyes to call me Brother!”
“Fine, now go put on your leathers! You’re a Master remember! That’s a tip
from your big Bro, Son!” Chief smiled at the sentiment and scurried to pull
his leathers and boots on.
“Look!” Someone said and pointed to Beau. The aura was gone and the little
blue ball of light emerged from the same place it entered. It sat on Beau’s
back and remained there for a few minutes. Jeb walked up to Beau and held out
his hand toward the blue light.
“Here Son! Sit in my hand! You’re loved here, you know that!” It buzzed around
his head three times and sat in his hand as everyone gathered in awe.
“My people speak of a blue light but this is the first time I’ve witnessed
it.” Chief said almost in a whisper so not to excite the spirit. It spun twice
in Jeb’s hand then buzzed three times around Chief’s head and bussed him on
the cheek too! He got this funny smile on his face, “I could smell him and
know who he was. It was Wes! I felt him at Master Earl’s house the night I had
dinner with him, Beau, Dirk and Allen! That’s phenomenal!” The light flew up
and headed up the stairway and was gone!
“I better check with our boy and find out if he’s alright!” Big Jim moved to
the microphone and pressed the button.
“Your Dungeon Master wants to know if his slave is alright after that
experience?”
Green light!
“From now on you are to inform all poltergeist that visitation hours have been
suspended until further notice or prior arrangement has been made and agreed
to by your Dungeon Master.” He added in a laughing voice.
Green light!
“You hungry slave?” Red light!
Then your Dungeon Master is setting you a drift for a good while. Use the time
wisely slave!”
And they did leave the slave alone for a good long while with no sounds nor
stimulus!
Part II~Lost in Space
“Rocket Man! Shooting off into the areozone,
Taking me a long, long way from home.
It’ll be gone a long, long time and then,
‘till splash down brings me ‘round again,
I’m a Rocket Man!”
Bernie Taupin
---
`
It was Saturday morning early when Master Bert arrived with Oscar and Billy.
Oscar was aglow with love. So was Master Bert. They were good together. Billy
acted like the proud but unhappy Mother to be losing her baby. Everyone was
supportive of both. Billy would get by! His Family would see to that. They
included him in everything. Just as they had when he and Oscar had been
running buddies. They both were included in all Family events. `
Master Bert joined the Master’s in the Dungeon and after Billy and Oscar had
checked on their Brother slave to be, headed for the kitchen. They had brought
food and drink for all and knew their way around twenty five different
kitchens all over Southern California. Soon the smells of breakfast, coffee
and other goodies filled the house. Once again Oscar was the sole undisputed
Master Chef running his kitchen like a well oiled clock. Billy never
questioned a task. Knew better! When Oscar took charge the food came out on
time, was always delicious and there was plenty of it!
If you volunteered for kitchen help you did the task Oscar assigned you. There
were no small task in his kitchen. It was getting on toward ten o’clock and
Master Earl arrived
with assortments of coffee cakes and two dozen doughnuts. It became a party
mood as if everyone were celebrating the training of their new family member.
Jim Redfeather and Master Jeb came up from the Dungeon when Earl D. Shaw
arrived on his bike. They greeted Earl and led him into the kitchen where
Billy and Oscar dropped everything to make ritual homage to Master Earl. Once
done Master Earl turned to introduce the Chief to Billy and Oscar who were
completely nude. Chief responded politely to their rituals but just didn’t
know what to make of them. Billy gently took Chiefs hand and guided it to his
groin. He spoke softly to him so not to embarrass him in front of the others.
“Go ahead Master Jim! Feel! It helps to know we’re real people!” Billy smiled
sweetly as the Chief took advantage of his offer and then kissed Billy again
with considerably more interest. It did not go unnoticed by the crowd who
started applauding and whooping.
Billy turned and smiled innocently to every one and simply said to Jim
Redfeather.
“Welcome to the Family Master Redfeather!” The big Man blushed! Everyone was
patting him on the back and laughing with him.
Blaine and Beryl had remained in the Dungeon with Big Jim to keep watch with
the Dungeon Master. Jeb had simply turned over the entire bondage trip to Big
Jim. He was doing an excellent job and Jeb wondered why he had not included
his friend in more of the slave training in the past. He had helped train
numbers of slaves over the years and knew the drill. What’s more, Big Jim had
taken on the persona of Dungeon Master and was recognize as such by all. They
treated him with an elevated respect that he found appealing. He was beginning
to bloom in this role and Jeb let him run with it! He even supported him by
starting to defer to him on matters of Beau’s bondage. Jeb never questioned
one of Big Jim’s decisions further reenforcing his status.
Jeb Henshaw was a wise old Man! He knew that he had found his successor. He
never thought that Big Jim would be interested in taking over the slave
training from him. It was never discussed between them. Jim had been too
restless in the past and would just take off on his bike one day and be gone
for months. Always to return to Jeb’s front door, throw his arms around his
friend, kiss him and hold him like he knew he never should have left.
Big Jim had been Master Jeb’s first slave.
Years ago before Jeb had decided to get into the slave training business he
and Jim had been in the service together. They spent a year in the trenches in
Korea in the last days of that nasty little war. They spent night after night
huddled close to each other, holding each other for warmth. Everyone had their
bunk buddy. It was just accepted. You did that or froze to death or, if you
got through the night, you could look forward to frost bite, gangrene, and
amputation. Odd Man would be included with three under blankets, bed rolls or
even straw when they could fine it dry. Jeb and Jim often sandwiched a smaller
good looking buddy between them. Of course there was sex!
It was not only a relief but it built up the ambient heat under what ever
protection they could find. No one said a word. They were all doing it. Even
good naturedly joked about who was middle man. Most of the smaller Men found
two big ones to sleep between. Sure they had to put out a little but they
slept the warmest at nights and they had the extra mental relief of sleeping
between two very large Men! The old saying, ‘If you can’t fuck your buddy, who
can you fuck?” came from that period. It’s amazing how much goes on in the
military! Head’s turn the other way when Men are in combat but stick it to you
under more peaceful circumstances. We live in a country that will give you a
medal for killing a Man and ostracize you for loving one!
Since they had been regular Marines they found themselves in the early days of
the Vietnam situation as military advisors to the South Vietnamese. They
couldn’t stomach what was going on and got out after Jeb had contracted some
kind of rot from the jungle.
Jim knew his friend was getting worse and had wanted to climb on his bike many
times since Beau came into his life but he couldn’t leave Jeb. He was forced
to cope with a situation that he had simply run from in the past. He knew his
friend, his Brother, his love, needed him and this was one time he knew he
couldn’t run away. He had been there so many times for Big Jim. Big Jim always
felt secure that he had a home no matter how long he was gone. He knew as long
as Jeb was alive, he had a home. Now the prospect of losing his rock was
unsettling to him.
To Big Jim, there was no problem so big it couldn’t be run away from. Not
because he was a weak Man but because he was a terribly sensitive Man. He
couldn’t tolerate hurt from people and tried his best never to hurt any one
else. We don’t think of big Men as sensitive. Doesn’t fit the persona. We
think ‘big Man’,‘strong Man’! Not always the case!
He began to draw strength from his love for Beau. Rather than be depressed
that he couldn’t have Beau in the long run, he was bound and determined to see
that Beau became the best possible slave to sell to Earl D. Shaw! He began to
work Beau’s butt off at the gym and chuckled to himself after they got home to
shower to admire the results of his pushing.
Beau was getting a beautiful set of tits! Just crying to be ringed by some
worthy Master!
Big Jim would not fail to point that out to his new intended Master! He wanted
to see a big ring through each of those tits.
The brunch was served and Chief , and Jeb took their food to the Dungeon so
Big Jim,
Beryl and Blaine could come up and eat. They needed some time away from the
Dungeon to socialize. Everyone sat at the huge outdoor oak table under the big
Avocado tree Jeb had planted years ago when he first moved there. Well, he
didn’t actually plant it. He left the pot there and it grew into the ground.
Big Beryl was at the head of the table, stood and raised his glass.
“Gentlemen, slaves! Our thanks to the preparers of this fine food ! Health,
love and prosperity to our Family!” Here, here’s all around and glasses
clinking made for a happy occasion.
Oscar blushed at Master Beryl’s sentiment and Master Bert put his arm around
him and kissed him. Master Beryl took Oscar’s hand and gently squeezed it in
thanks. He just blushed more.
“Master Bert?” Questioned Big Beryl the acknowledged but somewhat unofficial
head of the Family clan Mc Innis.
“Yes Sir?” He replied.
“Have you decided when you would like to claim this worthy slave and our
Family member as your property?”
“It has been discussed and we have tentatively set a date but we’re flexible
if isn’t a good time to have the maximum of my slave’s Family present.”
“And that date would be.....?”
“My slave wanted our new young slave in the Dungeon to stand with him as well
as his Brother Billy. In fact, they both have requested this! It is more than
fine with me! I would consider it an honor and a blessing to our transaction
with him standing for my slave to be.”He said looking directly at Master Earl
who smile and raised his glass in approval. “However, we realize his training
schedule is tight and in three weekends his visitations willbegan. We thought
if possible to have our ceremony the same evening that he becomes a full
fledged slave and may then stand up for my slave and a full Brother!” There
was applause of approval from around the table.
“Further more I have asked Master Earl to stand with me and I would really
appreciate it Sir, as head of this Family if you would do us both the honor of
standing with me as well!”
Big Beryl blushed at the general applause from around the table.
“I would be the one that would be honored Master Bert and I gratefully accept
your invitation to stand with you! If it is alright with our Dungeon Master
Big Jim and Master Jeb I think it would be a perfect time!” Everyone agreed.
The two Men shook hands on it and everyone was happy with the timing.
“It sounds like a fine idea to me!” Said the new Dungeon Master. “We have
plenty of room in the Auditorium and lots of tables for food for reception and
celebration later. There’s plenty of room for bike parking in the vacant lot
next door. We own that so there’s no problem there and we have no neighbors up
here to speak of! It’s a fine idea! I will discuss it with Master Jeb but
don’t foresee any problems. I’ll let you know definitely a little later this
morning! I can tell you our young slave will be thrilled! Right Master Earl?”
Earl D. winked at Big Jim and spoke, “He will be thrilled! He loves Oscar and
Billy very much!” Then he asked Billy to tell the story of Beau carrying
Billy’s picture in his wallet for seven years in Nam and still carrying it to
this day never thinking that he would one day meet his boyhood idol. The
assembled people that had not heard this story were agog.
“I couldn’t believe when he unfolded this small picture of me out of some
Muscle magazine of the early 60's. It was worn thin and the colors had faded
but there was no mistaking the image. It was me!” Tears were coming to Billy’s
eyes. “So you all can understand why Oscar and I both want him to stand with
us!” Every one agreed.
Big Jim finished and excused him self to go to the Dungeon to speak with his
partner and check on his charge. Jeb and Chief were talking quietly and just
finishing eating. Jim sat down and began to outline what Bert had asked of Big
Beryl. Jeb listened for a moment then spoke. “Jim, if you don’t mind, I’d
appreciate it if you would make these decisions from now on. I accept what
ever you think is best. It’s going to be all I can do to get through my part
of our boys training and I may have you set in on most of it in case you might
wish to do it again in the future! Chief you might be interested in this too.
You’re young and could be a big help to your big Brother here!” Jeb smiled a
knowing smile. Chief blushed.
“I will be happy to serve and learn Master Jeb! I would be honored!”
“That sounds good to me too!” Said Big Jim as he extended his hand in welcome
to Jim Redfeather. Chief took the big Man’s hand and shook it firmly.
“All right Son! Find six square pieces of paper about four inches and mark the
numbers 1 on the first , 2 on the second. Since we have four of the six
Masters here this morning we’re going to draw for the weekend placement for
our slave. You will get to pick one as well Master Redfeather since you’ve
paid your deposit in full. Sam and Yoshie are out of town this weekend and so
is Dirk and Allen. We have both their permission to draw for them and I’ll ask
Billy to draw for Dirk I will draw for Sam!”
Jeb helped Chief with the papers and Chief carefully numbered each. They were
folded and placed in a large tupperware mixing bowl. Big Jim carried the bowl
out to the table were the Masters were sitting still drinking coffee.
“Weekend placement drawing for our slave, Gentleman. We have four of the six
Masters that have paid deposits and I will draw for Master Sam. Billy will
draw for Master Dirk! Now who will be first?”
Everyone looked around. Big Beryl took the lead.
“I will say who goes first! There should be some prerogatives for the head of
this Family.” They all laughed but agreed with the Old Man.
“Earl first! For obvious reasons! Then we will go by age. The oldest next
which will be me! Bert will be next! You draw for Sam next, Jim! Sorry young
Man: He spoke to Chief, you’ll have to settle for last!” He laughed.
“Not a problem Sir!” Laughed Chief.
“No one open until we’ve all drawn. Agreed?” The Men all agreed. The bowl was
passed. Each Man took a square of paper and Big Beryl gave the O.K. to open
them.
“O.K. who got number one?” Asked Big Beryl.
“Looks like Sam and Yoshie.” Said Big Jim.
“We got number two!” Beryl said.
“Number three said Earl D.”
“Four.” Said Bert
“Dirk got five!” Said Billy.
“Six!” said Chief. Big Jim copied the order on the back of the piece of paper
he had and said, “O.K.! Starting the first weekend of next month our boy will
spend the weekend with Master Sam! The next weekend with Master Beryl!
Followed by Master Earl, Master Bert, Master Dirk, and last and certainly not
least, our new Master, Master Jim! Good! There are possibly two more
available.
By the way, it is agreed that we will have Oscars transfer of ownership from
his Family to Master Bert the same night that our boy becomes a slave!” They
all applauded.
“May I being up one other thing Gentlemen?” Master Bert asked.
“Certainly Sir!” Replied Big Jim. Bert pushed an envelop to Jim and said,
“There’s two hundred cash for one more Master that is known to my Family, my
intended slave and his Brother that would be interested in a new salve. He
requested a weekend with Beau! You might know him as well Jim. He goes by the
name Master Bear!”
“No! I can’t say’s I do!” If you and your slave and Billy vouch for him I will
accept his deposit as Jeb has given my full charge in these matters. May I
speak to your intended slave and Billy concerning this Sir?”
“Of Course! Let’s call Oscar!” Billy was already there and Oscar joined him.
“Do you slaves know this Man, Master Bear? Is he a valid member of a Family
such as ours and would he make a good and sane Master for this slave.”
“Absolutely!” Said Oscar.
“One of the best Masters around and handsome as the Devil himself!” Said
Billy.” Earl D. tried not to show it but was unsettled by the introduction of
this new Master. He had to get Oscar and Billy aside and question them
further.“I received a phone call earlier and Master Zack has sent two hundred
dollars in the mail for a weekend reservation with our slave. Since he is our
Family I will give him the seventh week end and Master Bear the last weekend.
Then it’s done. There are several other deposits with Masters that wish an
evening with our slave. Five in all so far. We won’t accept any further
deposits for weekends with our slave to be.”
“We will have an open house the Saturday that bidding is due and our slaves
new owner will be announced that evening. All bids must be in my hand by 6
P.M! Our new slave will be on display all afternoon for any Master’s final
inspection. Announcements will be sent out to all Family members regarding the
rules and times. Jeb and I are hosting an open bar catered party with food and
drinks for all in celebration.”
Part III~Deep River, Muddy Waters
“I gits weary and sick of trying’
I’m tired of livin’and scared of dying,
But Old Man river, he just keeps rolling along”
Jerome Kern
---
`
I was being fed again. It was my fourth feeding so I knew it had to late
Saturday afternoon. I had let my mind drift where it wanted to go. I didn’t
try to control it. I kept returning to my childhood and remembering begging my
Mother to take care of my little Brother and Sister. Most of the time she
would be depressed or on medications that made her so dysfunctional she
couldn’t do anything. Sometime she would be just dead drunk! I complained over
and over to my Dad and he would just pat me on the head and say I was a good
boy to help and do nothing. It must have been hard for him too. `
He remained with her all those years. Never had an affair that I know of. Went
to work every day and brought home his pay check. I had to buy groceries or no
one would have been fed. Dad gave me a household allowance and I would buy
everything for the week I thought we needed. I became good at clipping coupons
and shopping values. I became a wife to my Dad and a Mother to my Brother and
Sister. I was a slave to them. It didn’t stop until I left for College. I
wiped their noses, I tied their shoes, I fed them, I cleaned up after them, I
wiped their tears away, did the laundry and gave them love. If I was imprinted
as a slave , I wanted to receive some love for my efforts.
One night I was looking at my love Clancey Mc Gee in a Muscle magazine. My dad
walked in a caught me playing with myself and I was mortified. He grabbed the
magazine out of my hand and took a look at it hard and then got a smile on his
face and spoke,
“He’s a hell of a good looking Man Son!” He handed me the magazine back and
messed my hair, “Maybe I’ll borrow that from you later. I haven’t jacked off
in a couple of years and he is a hot one!” I was floored! Could my Dad have
been Gay ? I don’t know that he ever had and other contacts. He was regular as
clock work. I knew his schedule and he never varied.
Could he have discovered late in life he was gay and stopped having sex with
my Mother? Was that why she was so miserable all those years. He never
borrowed the magazine but once again when he caught me jacking off he ask if I
needed any help. I assured him I didn’t!He winked and closed the door. Would
he have? Did he want that? Had I become his wife in his mind?”. I took care of
him. Made sure his clothes were washed, ironed, and folded. I put them exactly
where he liked them.
After my Mother died when I came home from the service he would find someway
to be alone with me. Never was physical with me but would cry sitting in the
car alone to tell me how much he loved me and that he appreciated my help all
those years. He bitterly missed me! He not only loved me as a Son, he had
fallen in love with me! The realization of that brought a flood of tears from
me that had me heaving in the sling. So much so I got a call on the ear
phones.
“Slave. I’m here for you. You’re being watched over by those who love you. Are
you in physical pain?” Red light!
“Are you facing yourself?” Green light!
“It won’t be long now until your evening fuck so that should give you
something to look forward to. We brought in another guest fucker for you this
evening. Hang in there slave.” They left me alone and I felt so much better
understanding that. Why! Had I always known it but never wanted to admit it to
myself?
“Everyone was still chatting at the table. Either having a beer or more
coffee. It was getting dark. Big Jim came up to Earl D. and asked to speak to
him in private. Earl followed the Big Man to the Auditorium.
Big Jim turned to him and said,
“Jeb has turned over most of the Dungeon Master decisions to me. Don’t spread
it around but he’s getting worse and doesn’t have the strength left to see
this through to completion. I am enjoying the hell out of it as you can
probably tell but I wanted you to know about Jeb because I know how close you
are. Second thing, our boy is going into fugue state and facing some dragons.
He needs a solid physical communion with someone who loves him and whom he
loves.
Would you consider giving him his evening fuck. I’ll clear the Dungeon for you
and you may be alone with him if you like. The only rule is no verbal
communication with him. You can communicate volumes through your dick. As
Dungeon Master I would appreciate it if you would! He needs you right now.”
“You know I will! You don’t have to ask anyone to leave. I’m perfectly
comfortable with our Family. Any or all that want too may watch.”
“I have a small pin spot that will light only the area of his ass and you
won’t even be aware of anyone else. I’ll tell everyone that wants to watch to
find a folding chair and take it to the Dungeon or they may sit on the floor.
Big jim went around and quietly told everyone. Surprisingly, not every one
wanted to watch. Jeb had retired to his bedroom and looked bad. Chief was
already in the Dungeon and so were Beryl and Blaine. Billy decided to join the
group in the basement more to leave Bert and Oscar alone for a while. They
declined.
Everyone was settled and Earl followed Big Jim down into the Dungeon. He
turned off all lights except one tiny pin spot aimed right on Beau’s ass. The
Dungeon Master removed Beau’s plug into a waiting towel and patted his ass.
“Master Earl..... Now! Master Earl will need a slave for lubricant and to get
him primed a bit!”
“Blaine!” Barked Master Beryl. Blaine was on it knees in front of Master Earl.
He first kissed each of his boots as Earl offered his hand. He kissed it and
placed it to his forehead for further orders.
“Clean my Cod piece slave and I’ll tell you when you may remove it!”
Blaine threw his all into cleaning, licking, and sucking on Master Earl’s big
Cod piece.
He could feel Master Earl’s snake start to engorge itself inside as the piece
became more filled. After he had gone over every inch several times it was wet
from his attention.
“You may remove it now slave! You did a good job of cleaning and paying homage
to this Master!” Blaine caught an upper snap in his teeth and pull the entire
piece off. Master Earl’s sizable cock flopped straight out into his face. It
was delicious looking to Blaine and he was hungry for some good hot Cop dick.
“May I Master?”
“Yes Son.” Blaine started by kissing the head and then making love to the
entire length of the shaft. He kissed each of Master Earl’s balls and licked
them a little.
“Clean my balls good for me slave!” Big Beryl nudged Chief as if to say. “Damn
Earl’s a hot Master and my slave is really doing me proud!” Blaine was in
heaven sucking and cleaning Master Earl’s low hanging balls.
“Now slave! Get me good n’ hard with a lot of spit!”
“That was the order Blaine had been working for. He began to suck and take
more and more of Master Earl down his throat. Master Earl turned him sideways
to the assembled Family so they could get a better view. Big Beryl leaned over
to Chief an whispered “ My slave’s gonna’ get fucked tonight! Woah!!” Master
Earl was fully erect and ready to fuck some good slave boy ass.
“That will be enough slave!” Blaine again kissed each of his boots and Master
earl once more held his hand for him. After completing the ritual he spoke to
Blaine,
“Get up here slave and show this Master love!” Blaine was in his arms in an
instant and Master Earl laid a kiss on Blaine that made Blaine go limp. Master
Beryl slapped his knee and laughed softly.
“Thank you slave!” Master Earl said softly to Blaine.
“My pleasure Sir! My pleasure!” Master Earl moved to his intended slave in the
sling and you could have heard a pin drop in the Dungeon as he placed his big
dick on his slave’s rosebud. He reached up and grabbed the chains in front of
the slave. He lunged in one swift smooth movement was in his slave to the
balls that swung and banged beneath him. There were several gasps at his
entrance.
I felt a large dick slammed into my ass and pushed back and up to receive it
as Master Jeb had taught me so many weeks ago. It was wonderful to feel
someone in me again. At first I thought it was Master Jim but it didn’t have
quite the same feel. My evening fucker let my ass adjust for a good while
taking a small stroke or two to relax my hole. Then the first couple of good
strokes I knew I had a Cadillac in my garage. It was my Master and I wiggled
my ass in excitement.
“You can’t fool this Kid!” He spoke softly to the peanut gallery, “He just
told me he know’s it’s me!” He laughed as he took another couple of good long
deep strokes into me. Shit!! Son of a bitch ! Damn!! Hell! Fuck!! My Master
felt good and I was trying my best to help him get the best of my ass that he
could. He obviously was enjoying this. I could feel a certain joy in his
strokes.
I know it sounds crazy but I could feel that this must have been unexpected
and he was not going to let the opportunity pass without making this a
memorable fuck. Tonight he was the Cadillac and I had hope he might of shifted
gears or let his Animal drive. What the hell, slave, you’re getting fucked by
your Master! It’s his pleasure that’s important! Not yours! Give it up to him
any way he wants to take it from you.
Something clicked in me and I knew at that moment I was becoming the slave
that Master Jeb had told me about. When that clicked in my brain and I began
to concern myself with his pleasure I began to get what I needed. My Master
had put his wild ass animal at the wheel! I could still tell it was a Cadillac
but that beast was putting the pedal to the metal.
He kept on and on and I was building up fast. I couldn’t hold it much longer
but I was trying. It was almost like he wanted to feel my ass biting down on
his cock as he fucked me furiously. I couldn’t hold it any more and shot three
times and tried to bite his dick off with my ass. He felt it go crazy as I
felt his flow began. It was being fed a Man size feast! God, he fucked me
good!
He lay on top of me and I thought I heard applause but wasn’t sure. Was there
an audience? That was hot! Did my Master take me in front of an audience? Damn
that made me hot! I started to milk his cock to get the last drops of his hot
come into my ass. I wanted every drop! To be plugged and absorb his wonderful
seed was enough to get me through the rest of this.
He left his cock in me for a long time laying on top of me with his arms under
and around me. I could feel his left hand stroking my chest like he liked to
do. He inched up and found my tit and began to tease it between his thumb and
forefinger. He didn’t hurt me. He just played with it. It was making me so hot
I began to hump his dick praying he’d fuck me again. He didn’t. He wasn’t in
charge and had to obey the Dungeon Master. He was happy to be able to have me
one more time. He slowly pulled out and I started crying but tried not to let
anyone know.
“He’s crying!” Earl said to Jim. “Do you think I hurt him?”
“Not likely! You should know! He’s hopelessly in love with you and misses you!
He wants you back in him but that’s enough for tonight. Watch this!” Big Jim
went to the microphone. “Everything alright Son?” Red Light
“Problem Son?” The green light flashed,
l...o...v...e...m..a..s..t..e..r...Blaine translated.
“See! What did I tell you!” chided Big Jim.“Gimme a hug Earl! The Dungeon
Master needs one right now!” Earl D. threw his arms around the big Man and
spoke to him softly, “You’re one of a kind Brother and I’m proud to call you
that. You are a big Man!”
The double meaning didn’t pass Big Jim. He just laughed and patted Earl on the
back hard and gave him a goodly Bear hug!
I was fed once more and again some wonderful homemade soup broth of some kind.
I was not treated to any more stimulus for the rest of the night. I was on my
own except for three people watching me round the clock. Beryl and Blaine went
to one of the upstairs bed rooms, made the bed and crashed. Big Jim invited
Chief to stay over if he wished. He did and slept next to Big Jim almost all
night on the leather futon. Master Bert , Billy and Oscar were keeping watch
over the slave. The Dungeon was quiet and all lights were out except a small
pin spot on the slave hanging in mid air.
Big Jim still had his leathers on but Chief had taken his off to be more
comfortable. He woke up with a huge hairy arm around him pulling him up close
to the big bear of a Man. He had dreamed of this. It was enough to begin to
think of Big Jim as his big Brother. To be lying next to him this close was a
dream come true. He fell asleep and dreamed more peaceful dreams than he had
in years. Once he awoke and rolled over into the Giant to get closer. Was that
a small smile he sensed come across the big Man’s face. It was dark! He
couldn’t be sure! Big Jim was sure as he pulled him closer.
The next morning was a whirlwind of activity. Jeb was up early and Billy awoke
the Dungeon Master to start his day. Chief stayed longer on the futon asleep
in his comfortable dreams. Billy and Oscar went upstairs to start Breakfast
for everyone. Master Earl had left and gone home. He had some things to do
Sunday but would check in or call when Beau came out of bondage. Big Jim
offered for him to be present and he said he would try. The final ten to
twelve hours of bondage is the worst. You are really going deep inside
yourself to look at things you’ve tied behind your back for years. Things you
would ordinarily never let yourself think of. They come bubbling up from the
depth to confront you. You can’t run away because there was no where to run.
It will not go away until you deal with it! There is much weeping and nashing
of teeth during that period. (figure of speech since my mouth was plugged!)
By Sunday afternoon I was really becoming uncomfortable. I was fighting off
muscle cramps from inactivity and I had no more tears to shed. I felt
completely washed out like and old dishcloth. Yet somehow I felt cleansed! I
felt like these areas of my life would never come to bother me again because I
had finally dealt with them. They were done, resolved and gone.
I thought the time would never come but I finally felt the gurney being rolled
under me and raised so I was laying on it and my chains were free. I was
unhooked and gently rolled somewhere. Four big arms transferred me to a table
covered in leather. Slowly both sides of the bondage harness was removed.
Someone was removing my boots. Someone else was undoing my pants. They were
removed. They sat me up and someone removed my leather shirt and gauntlet
gloves. Next my plug was removed but not my eye patch. Sitting up I felt
someone removing the leather hood and laid me back down before removing it. It
was finally taken away.
My eyes adjusted and I was laying in the middle of the futon and all around me
was my Family including my Master completely nude. No one had any clothes on
including my Dungeon Master who was laying next to me. I rolled to him and put
my arms around his big neck and started crying I was so moved. He held me
tight and whispered, “These other folks watched over you too!”
I turned to my Master and hugged him and didn’t want to let go. I kissed him
and told him I loved him. He returned that love to me. Then each, in kind, I
hugged and kissed each of my Family. They all had tears in their eyes. Chief
was so moved we started crying together.
Big Beryl was beside himself with joy, love and couldn’t hug me tight enough.
I thought he was going to break something. Blaine was bananas! It was a
wonderful unexpected reunion. They had become my Family. Who could want for a
more diverse yet loving group of Men to love.
“You hungry Kid?” My Dungeon Master asked.
“Yes Sir! A little.”
“Come then ....we have food prepared for you!” They helped me up as my legs
were unsteady. They helped me up and out of the Dungeon. We walked to the
outside and there was a feast laid out before me for all to enjoy. Oscar had
been cooking all afternoon and every one sat down to eat. Everyone in the nude
in the warm summer evening as the last rays of the warm California sun sank
into the ocean.
Master Beryl raised his glass and spoke,
“To our new slave. On releasing him from the bondage of his past to the
freedom of his new life as a slave!” Everyone, here, hered in agreement and
clinked glasses. It was the best meal I have ever eaten. I ate too much. I was
so full and growing tired. I felt emotionally drained and yet happier than I
can ever remember. I was so grateful to these Men for their unqualified love
for me. I asked Master Jim to take me to his room. I hugged and kissed
everyone good night including my Master who understood my need to lay down.
The Dungeon Master swept me up in his arms and carried me to his bed. He laid
me out and covered me. Then he kissed me and said to me,
“I have responsibilities to our guest so I won’t be back for a while. Can I
send your Master to lay with you for a while.
“You would do that for me?”
“Don’t you know by now?”
“I’m sorry Master. I love you too!”
I was drifting off to sleep when I felt a pair of big arms surround me and
hold me close. It was my Master and I turned to him and wept in his arms. He
understood. I was out! I remember waking up during the night and there were
another bigger pair of arms around me and I moved closer to the warmth of my
Giant Ox He held me tight as I drifted back off to sleep. I had wanted love. I
found it.
If someone had laid out to me how and what form that love would take would I
have been able to understand? Becoming a slave was nothing that I thought it
would be. My life was becoming not my own any more. I was becoming a part of
something bigger.
To be owned by another Man multiplied my world by two but to be brought into a
Family as complex and caring as this one would have be uncomprehensible to me
a couple of months ago. I was looking for a new world and found a universe.
Instead of living my life in my self imposed prison I was being freed to love
in so many new and wonderful ways. I realized that I was giving up some things
others might find necessary for them to have total control of their lives but
it was not until I decided to give up that control that I truly began to feel
free. The freedom of my chains. The greater bond of love!
For the first time in my stupid warped life I was beginning to like who and
what I was! I liked the slave that I was becoming. He was me! The person that
I had been imprinted as in childhood. I would become a slave to a good Man
that would control me yet give me the love my Father never could. In effect,
the ultimate Father figure!
Perhaps my Dad could have offered that to me but I never allowed him to cross
that barrier. What a can of worms that might have opened?! I began to have
dreams of having sex with my Dad and never before wanted to admit that I had
been sexually attracted to him for years.
When I showed a picture to my Master of my Dad he laughed. I asked him why?
“It’s obvious your attraction to Billy all those years. He was a pumped up
version of your Dad! He could be Billy’s Brother. I looked again and with that
suggestion saw the resemblance. Perhaps my Dad saw it too when he looked at
that picture of Billy I was jacking off too. He knew before I did and tried to
give me a chance to come to him. I didn’t. He must have been devastated. I
never really loved my Dad until I understood that.
I blamed him for my misery as an adult. For not doing something about me
becoming a slave to our family. I never had a childhood. I never really had an
adolescence. I was too busy playing the role of an Adult. I’m still very close
to my little Brother and Sister. It too is a perverse love. They love me as a
parent. A combination of Big Mama, Big Brother, Big Daddy, and Santa Clause.
They still send me their toy lists at Christmas.
I worry a lot about my little Brother Bud. I found some ‘Tomorrow’s Man’ and
‘GreatianPictorial’ magazines stuffed in his mattress one day but never
confronted him with them. Never told Dad! I felt if he was going to be Gay I
would let him tell me in his own time.He is in college now and doesn’t seem to
be too interested in girls. I send him money regularly. He has never asks for
money but always thanks me every letter. He writes faithfully twice a month.
Always about what he and his buddies are doing. Never mentions a girl. Is he
afraid of me? Does he see me as some War hero he can’t approach? If he could
see me now! I laughed at the picture of me with my hair on fire!
Maybe , after he finishes college, Master Earl will let me have him out for a
visit and I will tell him about us. Maybe.
It became clear to me that after all those years the great love of my Dad’s
life was his Son!” I knew that someday soon I would return to my Father’s home
with my Master and introduce him to my Dad as such. I suddenly felt that my
Father might understand and approve. Would he grow to love my Master for my
sake! Is the old saying true? “The fruit doesn’t fall to far from the tree!”
The tree had a few surprises for the fruit.
No matter what we do in life! No matter where we go nor whom we meet along the
way! From the moment we are born our clock, forever how long we have on this
planet, just keeps ticking away! Use every minute wisely, ‘cause the river of
life just keeps on rolling along.
End of Part XV (B)~
Waddie Greywolf
[email protected]
* * * |
In The Line Of Duty | GAY, TESTICLES | Rookie cop has a tough first day. | My first night on the job. It was Halloween. My partner and I got
the call right after midnight. There was a lot of noise reported at
an abandoned warehouse. We went to check it out. We didn’t expect
to find anything.
Of course, when we arrive the place was dead quiet. Dave, my
partner, told me to go around to the right. He’d go to the left.
There were doors on both sides.
I went in with my gun drawn. I was nervous as shit. A cat probably
knocked over a piece of metal and this would have made an enormous
crashing sound. My flashlight was in my left hand.
I went in. It was very dark except for my light. A wall was
directly in front of me, about 6 feet in from the door. I directed
the light down the hall to my right. A loud crash hit behind me,
and I spun ready to shoot the son-of-a-bitch. I about shit my
pants. The metal door had slammed shut.
After I caught my breath and had a good internal chuckle, I told
myself to lighten up. My fucking nerves were going to get me killed.
My radio crackled and hissed. “What?” I asked much too harshly.
“Sam,” Dave addressed me. “You okay?” “Yeah,” I answered. “Then,
stop making so much fucking noise,” he said. “Sure,” I replied.
I turned around and out I went. I didn’t see a fucking thing. I
barely had time to register the pain. I didn’t know who or what had
hit me.
When I woke, my head hurt like hell. I was still in the warehouse.
This place had been used for meat packing. It was cold as hell. I
was fucking naked, hanging upside down from a meat hook. My feet
were roped together, and the rope was hanging over the hook.
I had no idea how long I’d been out. I guessed about 15 minutes
tops. I didn’t know where I was in the warehouse from the point
where I’d been knocked unconscious. I had been out long enough to
have been stripped, tied up, and hung up. I couldn’t see my
uniform or gun anywhere. There were a lot of dark corners. A
little bit of light was coming through the busted out windows from
the street lamps. My hands were tied behind my back, and I had a
gag shoved in my mouth.
I saw motion out of the corner of my eye. I tried to twist around
to get a better look. Everything is so much more difficult to
interpret when you’re fucking hanging upside down.
Dave was crouched in the shadows. He had his gun drawn and was
looking around. I started grunting. I just wanted the fuck cut
down. I was fucking naked, and it was fucking cold. He put his
finger to his lips motioning me to be quiet. When I grunted again,
he angrily mouthed “shut up”, so I shut up.
All I wanted was this fucking nightmare to be over. My first damned
day and I had been knocked unconscious, stripped naked, and hung
upside down from a meat hook in an abandoned warehouse. Things
couldn’t be more fucking humiliating.
After my partner had surveyed the area for several minutes (hours
the way it appeared from my vantage point), he slowly made his way
over to me. He pulled out his knife. A dark mass came up behind
him. I started grunting. I heard the thunk, and his body fell
over on me. I swung from the pressure, and he slid down off of me
and hit the floor. It looked like the black mass just came right up
out of the goddamned floor. I didn’t hear anyone approaching, and
there was shattered glass all over the floor.
The freak pulled Dave by his feet a couple feet away from me. He
was mostly behind me, and I tried to spin the hook around, but it
wouldn’t turn all the way. I saw the guy cutting off Dave’s
uniform. I knew I had to get Dave conscious, or we were fucked. I
started screaming as loudly as I could into the gag.
The guy ignored me for the most part and continued stripping Dave.
I got louder. The guy walked over to me and with Dave’s belt, he
smacked me across the ass. I was fucking stunned, at first, but it
hurt like hell. I guess it was just some kind of instinct from
my childhood but probably more from the frustration, humiliation,
and fear, but, man, I just started bawling. I was crying like a
fucking baby. Then, I started cursing this motherfucker like crazy.
I was screaming behind this gag, and I started swinging my body.
The fucker whacked my ass again. I screamed louder. He whacked me a
couple more times, and I decided to stop. All the noise hadn’t
roused Dave, and my ass stung like hell. I was still bawling, and
my hair was soaked from my tears. I was having trouble breathing. I
thought I was going to drown in my own snot and tears.
He got Dave hung up beside me. He left. I don’t know where the shit-
head went. We hadn’t called in. Someone should come looking for us.
Dave regained consciousness. We tried communicating, but since we
were cops and not goddamned dentists, we couldn’t understand a
fucking word we were grunting to each other.
The freak came back. We saw he was carrying our batons. I figured
he was going to beat us to death with our own damned batons. I saw
Dave’s eyes roll back in his head when the fucker pulled out a jar
of Vaseline. He started smearing Vaseline on our sticks. Goddamn,
we needed fucking back-up really damn quick. Where the hell was
everyone?
The guy took the stick and rammed it into Dave’s ass. It went about
three-quarters of the way in. For a split second I thought Dave was
dead. There was no noise. Then, he let out the worst, damn howl I’d
ever heard a man make. It was fucking unnatural. As Dave continued
shrieking, the fucker shoved my own baton down my ass. The pain tore
through my damned guts, and I must have blacked out.
When I came to, the guy had a knife and was cutting through Dave’s
ball sack. He was holding Dave’s nuts stretched way out from his
body, Dave was screaming and bouncing around. His nuts came off in
the guy’s hand.
He came toward me. Dave was crying and blood was running down his
stomach and back. He put Dave’s whole nut sack in his mouth and
chewed them up. I puked. I had to turn my head sideways as much as
I could because my damned puke was getting stuck in my nose, and I
was fucking strangling on my own vomit.
The guy yanked my nuts up and sawed through. The pain was
unbearable. The guy jerked his head like something had startled
him. He then ran off with my balls in his hand. That was when all
the back-up came busting in, too fucking late. The freak hasn’t
been found. |
Entmannter Zwitter (3) | BI, TG | Sexual pleasures of an emasculated hermaphrodite on a holiday islan | Mein Name ist Mona, ich bin ein entmannter Zwitter (aus meinen Schamlippen
wurden die Hoden entfernt und mein Kitzler-Penis wurde bis auf einen Stumpf
weggeschnitten)und bin mit einem befreundeten Ehepaar (Elke, eine Frau ohne
Brüste aber mit einer Megaclitoris, und Ben, ein Mann mit uebergrossem Penis
und urethral reroute hinter seinem Hodensack) auf einer kleinen indischen
Insel, wo alle sexuellen Abarten frei ausgelebt werden können, auf Urlaub.
Dieser Abschnitt setzt Teil 2 fort.
Als ich nach Hause kam, um meinen prall zuckenden Penisstumpf abzupumpen,
musste ich feststellen, dass der Saugzylinder, den ich bisher benutzt hatte,
wegen der ständigen sexuellen Ueberreizung auf der Insel zu eng geworden war.
So brachte mich unser Eunuch zu der Praxis der jungen Aerztin neben dem
kleinen Marktplatz. In der Praxis war vor uns eine Mutter mit ihrem etwa
zehnjaehrigen Sohn. Sie hiessen Cilly und Attis. Cilly war offensichtlich
Bodybuilderin, vollgepumpt mit Anabolika und muskulöser als die meiste
Maenner. Da durch die Anabolika ihre Brueste verschwunden waren, hatte sie
sich Silikonbrueste implantieren lassen. Sie sahen jedoch ausgesprochen
laecherlich aus, wie diese Halbkugeln auf den kräftigen Brustmuskeln
aufsassen. Ihre Scheide stand weit und tief offen (wie sie später erzählte,
hatte sie ueber längere Zeit Geschlechtsverkehr mit einem Hengst gehabt),
sodass der vergroesserte kraeftige kitzler umso mehr auffiel. Sie war mit
ihrem Sohn in die Praxis gekommen, weil sie in den letzten Monaten mit immer
groesserem Erstaunen hatte beobachten müssen, dass sich der Penis ihres Sohnes
und auch sein Hodensack im Gegensatz zu seiner schmaechtigen Statur
unglaublich vergrössert hatte. Der Hodensack baumelte weit herunter und die
Hoden waren jetzt etwa huehnerei-gross, sein penis hing beinahe bis zu den
Knieen herunter. Heute waehrend des Fluges auf die Insel, wo sie hoffte,
Erleichterung für ihre weite Scheide zu finden, war dieser Penis ploetzlich
noch angeschwollen und steif geworden, ohne dass sich die Erektion
zurueckbildete. Er hatte sich gschaemt, sich mit diesem wippenden steifen
Pruegel vor seinem Bach vor anderen Menschen bewegen zu muessen. Die Ärztin
beglueckwuenschte die beiden zu solchen Geschlechtsorganen und bat sie, sich
keine Sorgen zu machen, wahrscheinlich stehe die erste Ejakulation bevor und
da seine Hoden schon schmerzten, schlug sie vor, ihn kurzerhand abzupumpen.
Sie bat ihre Gehilfin, einen passenden Saugzylinderzu bringen und diese kam
nach laengerer Zeit mit einem armdicken Zylinder zurueck, den sie einmal fuer
einen Hengst angeschafft hatten. Als es endlich gelungen war, den dicken
langen Penis hineinzubekommen, schaltete die Aerztin die Melkpumpe ein und es
dauerte keine Minute bis Attis aufschrie, ich muss urinieren. Aber er
urinierte nicht, stattdessen spritzten seine ersten dicken weißlichen
Samenstrahlen in den Zylinder. Durch den Ergauß bildete sich zwar die
Steifheit zurueck aber die Arztin sagte den beiden voraus, dass er bei der
Samenproduktion dieser uebergrossen Hoden bald wieder geil sein wuerde. Sie
schlug Cilly vor, wegen der Weitung ihrer Scheide doch selbst mit ihrem Sohn
zu schlafen, da er ohnehin kaum ein Maedchen finden werde, dass dieses
Monstrum in sich einfuehren koenne. Cilly erroetete zwar bei diesem
inzestuoesen Vorschlag, gestand sich aber ein, dass sie in der letzten Zeit
schon immer luestern auf den Pruegel ihres Sohnes geschaut hatte. Ich stoehnte
vor Geilheit auf. Als die Arztin sah, was mit meinem zuckenden Stumpf los war,
fragte sie mich, ob ich selbst auch gleich gemolken werden wollte. Ich nickte
voller Erregung und ehe die Gehilfin den Saugzylinder gereinigte hatte, hatte
ich ihn mir schon ueber meinen Stumpf geschoben. Als ich sah und fuehlte, wie
Attis Samen auf meinen zuckenden Stumpf lief, brauchte die Aerztin die
Melkpumpe garnicht mehr einzuschalten. In wilden Stoessen spritzte mein
Eunuchenejakulat in den Zylinder und vermischte sich mit Attis kindlichem
Samén.
Auf dem Nachhauseweg sahen wir, dass sich ein junges aegyptisches Paerchen an
die Kreuze auf dem Marktplatz hatten schnallen lassen. Sie waren beide
insofern von der Natur ueberreich gesegnet worden, als Achmed über seinem
durchaus ansehnlichen steifen Penis eine zweiten, nicht ganz so langen Penis
liegen hatte, der nun, als er die Neugier die Umstehenden bemerkte sich auch
langsam versteifte. Seine Freundin Fatimah, die an das gegenueberliegende
Kreuz geschnallt war, war in ihrer Jugend infibuliert worden, aber nicht nur
mit einem oder mehreren duch die Schamlippen gezogenen Ringen, sondern die
Schamlippen waren bis auf ein kleines Loch zugenäht, Wenn ihr Kitler wieder
geil war, schob sie einen Finger in das kleine Loch ihrer Scham und schob ihn
unter den zusammengewachsenen aeusseren Schamlippen bis zu ihrem versteiften
Kitzler und rieb dort, bis der Geilsaft aus dem kleinen Loch schoss, wenn sie
ihren Finger herauszug. Das wirklich aufregende an Fatimah war aber nicht ihre
Infibulation, sondern dass sie nicht zwei sondern vier Brueste besass. Die
oberen waren sher gross, waehrend die unteren etwas kleiner waren, aber, wenn
sie die oberen anhob, doch auch eine beachtliche Prallheit zeigten. Als sie
bemerkten, wie sie von einem team gefilmt wurden, zuckten sie immer geiler und
unkontrollierter.
Was ich weiter erlebt habe, in Teil 4. Wer Interesse an Bildern von meinem
Penisstumpt und den gepiercten Schamlippen hat, mailt bitte an:
[email protected].
* * * |
Modern Mods, Chapter 2 | WARNING, BI, PENECTOMY | There are \"mods,\" and then there are \"real mods.\" | MODERN MODS
Chapter 2
The next two days went by slowly, and by Saturday night I was just about out
of my head with my need to cum. I was sure that I'd been "punished"
sufficiently that Sharon would allow me to do so that very night.
As we climbed into our bed at our usual time of 11:00, it was just about all I
could do to not immediately pull down my undershorts and get on top of her.
Making my need all the more urgent was knowing that she never wore anything to
bed, and I had always taken that as an open invitation to me.
That wasn't to be, though, as became evident when, instead of settling beside
me as usual, she casually threw one leg over my body as she'd done the
previous Wednesday night. As she moved up to my face, she said in a matter-of-
fact tone of voice, "Eat it again. Since I didn't promise to not cum, I'm
going to let you make me do that. Get your tongue to work, little man." She'd
never before called me that, but rather than being upset with it, it caused a
thrill in my chest that was entirely new to me. However, it soon passed as I
concentrated on giving her the best oral sex ever, hoping that would make her
relent, and she would release me from my promise.
It didn't, of course. After I had licked and sucked her treasure for several
minutes, she groaned in that deep-throated way that I just love to hear, and I
knew she was climaxing. As always before, her thighs did their best to crush
my skull, and she forced her pussy against my mouth so strongly that I was
afraid she'd break my teeth, too.
Again we kissed after she'd dismounted, and I longed to hear her ask me if I
wanted to cum, but she didn't. The only thing she did was to roll to her
stomach, say, "Rub my back," and then to sigh deeply and fall asleep as I
caressed her. Now all I had to look forward to was Wednesday, and hoping
against hope that night would at last bring about my release from her silken
bonds.
__________________________
By the time Sharon left for the meeting at 6:00 Wednesday evening, I was
struggling to breathe. It seemed that my dick had been continuously hard for
the past four days, and although that would be a stretch, it wouldn't be far
from the truth.
Since she had told me to be in bed and ready for her when she returned, I
didn't wait up. I was completely unable to fall asleep, of course, as anyone
could understand. For that reason, I was wide awake when the garage door
operator began to hum about midnight, and as I heard her enter the house I
turned to my side so I could watch the bedroom door.
As she had done the previous week, she hurried into the bedroom, removing her
clothes as she walked toward the bed. Her blouse hit the floor as soon as she
stepped through the door, and in the dim light I could see her unbound breasts
swaying with each step. I've always been fascinated by the fact that she never
wears a bra, and simply can't think of a more arousing sight than her walking
towards me with her breasts bouncing and her nipples poking at the fabric of
her blouse. Right then, though, I was more than glad that I could faintly see
the same sight with no cloth getting in the way.
She paused to step out of her shoes, and then placed one hand on the nearby
dresser as she removed her socks. Her slacks were soon peeled down, and I
watched avidly for the sight of her panties being removed in a like manner.
Instead of doing that, though, she almost deliberately turned her body so that
the hallway light was directly behind her. She then slowly spread her legs,
and I could see her hand reaching toward her crotch. Again very deliberately,
she pulled a wad of cloth from that part of her body, and I realized that not
only was she not wearing her panties, but that they had been balled up and
stuffed between her legs. I suppose if my brain had been capable of rational
thought at that time, I'd have wondered why she had done that, but at that
moment all I could think of was collapsing to my back in preparation for her.
She took the three steps to the bed, got on top of it on her knees, and then
swung one leg over my chest. By the time she moved up to straddle my head, I
was already moaning in lust, and as she paused to say, "I brought your
midnight snack. Do you want to eat it now?," my only response was to put my
hands on her hips and pull her down to me.
She sighed deeply as my tongue began its work, and then began to rock her
crotch back and forth as she rode my mouth. I heard her hoarsely whisper, "You
said you like to eat my pussy when it's all wet, so you should really like it
tonight. I brought you a double load this time." Her words simply had no
meaning for me right then, for my world didn't extend beyond her treasure and
my mouth. I suppose that somewhere in the deep recesses of what passes for the
male brain there was awareness that she seemed to be twice as full of her
juices as the week before, but all that meant was that I would have to work
twice as hard to get all of them before she climaxed and moved off my face. So
I did.
She climaxed almost immediately, which, while satisfying to me, was also
upsetting, because I thought she'd then get off and go to sleep. I kept
licking and sucking, hoping against hope that would keep her in place for as
long as I wanted. It must have worked, for she made no move to dismount, and I
once again concentrated on giving her as much pleasure as possible.
Whether it was my efforts, or her own arousal that was the cause, after
another couple minutes, she began to once again press her pussy against my
mouth while she rocked and sighed. That made me redouble my attempts to bring
her pleasure once more, and I was lost in a world of my own making as fantasy
after fantasy filled my brain.
I was jerked out of my dreaming by her sudden intake of breath, and then when
her thighs once again squeezed tightly against my head, I knew that a miracle
had occurred: she had reached orgasm twice in just a short amount of time.
That had never before happened when we made love, and in fact, even a single
climax had become increasingly rare since we were first married. I'd have been
pleased beyond measure right then, except for the fact that her second release
in such a short time merely emphasized my own need to do the same.
Sharon almost collapsed forward onto her outstretched arms, and held that
position for a long time as she began to regain her ability to breathe. At
last, she lifted up, leaving my questing tongue licking nothing but the cold
night air, and settled into place beside me. As she usually did when I had
given her pleasure, she pulled me to her, and kissed me. I responded,
struggling with my out-of-control body to not force itself against her and
cause me to break my promise.
As she broke the kiss, I expected her to then roll to her stomach so I could
rub her back while she fell asleep. Instead of doing that, though, she
continued to lie there hugging me, with her face buried in my neck. Just when
I began to think she'd fallen asleep in that strange position, she whispered
in my ear, "What do you think about when you eat my pussy?"
That question took me so much by surprise that I simply couldn't answer for
several seconds, and when I finally did, all I could say was, "I guess just
how much I love doing that."
She was obviously not going to buy such a weak response, and continued, "No,
that's not what I meant. I mean do you have fantasies when you're doing it?"
Her question was hitting too close to home for me to be comfortable with it,
for I had always had fantasies that involved her. However, I was sure if she
ever learned just exactly what they were about, she'd be so disgusted with me
that she wouldn't love me anymore. As I was feverishly trying to think of
something to say, she pressed again, saying, "I know you have fantasies,
because sometimes you seem lots hotter than I expect. Tell me what they are,
and I mean right now! Don't try to lie to me or I'll never let you cum again
as long as you live!"
I was shocked by the angry tone of her voice, and knew there was no way out of
my predicament. Trying to not offend her, while also doing what she wanted, I
stammered, "I always think about . . . you know, what you told me about how .
. . how to do it right. I think about how much I love it when you get on top,
like you did tonight, and then make me do that to you. Just stuff like that."
She merely replied, in a very-firm tone of voice, "I didn't ask you what you
think about. I asked you what you fantasized about. Now tell me, damn you!"
At last my brain understood there was no way out, and I tried to put my
childish fantasies in terms she could more readily accept. "I think about you
finding another man who can . . . do it better than me. I want you to let him
make love to you, because it'd be better for you that way."
That apparently mollified her, because her voice was no longer angry, as she
said, simply enough, "Me, too. How long have you been thinking about stuff
like that?"
My answer came more easily then, even though my arousal had reached a new
level with her admission that I wasn't alone in wanting her to have sex with
other men. "I think I've always had those thoughts. I guess I knew right away
that you weren't all that satisfied with me, and I always loved you so much
that I wanted it to be better for you."
Again she confirmed my words with her own, "Me, too," before continuing with
her questioning. "And if I did have sex with another man, you'd think it was
okay?"
Her frank question just about locked my throat so tightly that it wouldn't
allow me to speak, but at last I was able to squeak, "Yes."
That made her chuckle before she went on with the most-erotic conversation
we'd ever had. "I was hoping you'd say that. If I did let another man fuck me,
should I let him do me bareback?"
All I could do was nod in assent, and thankfully the light from the hallway
was sufficient to allow her to see it. Her next question was even more direct.
"Do you want me to let him cum inside my pussy?"
By then I was so far gone that I truly don't know what I said, but it must
have been in the affirmative, because she continued, "And after he fills my
pussy with his hot cum, what do you want me to do?"
She waited then, giving me time to struggle with my throat until I could say,
"I want you to come home to me."
Her own breathing was almost as rapid as mine as she asked, "And then what? Do
you want me to come to bed with you? Is that what you want me to do after I've
fucked another man and let him fill my pussy with his hot, delicious cum?"
Again I squeaked my reply of, "Yes," which was her cue to ask the hottest
question I'd ever heard. "Do you want me to sit on your face and make you lick
up all his cum, and then make you suck every drop of it out of my pussy? Is
that what you want me to make you do?"
I think I said, "Please," then, but I'm not sure. What little brainpower left
to me at that time was completely centered between my legs, and that part of
my body has always had a very short-term memory.
I do know that she kissed me once more, then rolled to her stomach. As she
settled in place, she whispered just one word, a word which left me in such a
state of arousal that I'm sure I was unable to sleep all the rest of the
night.
That word was, "Okay."
Continued in Chapter 3
* * * |
Balfor and Terry 14 | GAY, WARNING, PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION, spanking | Balfor spanks Jeremy as Promised. | ` `
"Do you remember the first day you came here and I remarked on your beautiful
white bum and how I might spank you to get it nice and pink and raw?"
Jeremy lay on a bed in Freddy's "hospital," still reeling from the hideous
ordeal of his penectomy; the stitches had only just come out earlier that
afternoon.
To see Balfor again after weeks of Freddy and Carmen was almost a relief. To
think that the worst Balfor had done was a little hanging him by the nuts. How
innocent by comparison; almost lame.
"I never did get around to that spank." Balfor continued. "I got carried away
with making you sit on your balls. You had nice soft big ones as I recall,
like little cushions to sit on. How long was it- about three hours? You got
nice and juicy between the legs didn't you, as it all squeezed out."
Jeremy looked at him as if in a daze. No reaction. No indication of any
emotion at all.
"Did you come while you were sitting on your balls? Did the squashy feeling in
your nuts give you an orgasm? I forgot to ask." Balfor continued.
"No."
"No what?"
"No sir, I didn't come from when you made me sit on my balls sir."
"Oh well some do, some don't. Guess you're weren't one of the lucky ones. So
it all squeezed out with no pleasure at all."
"Yes sir."
"That's interesting. I once had made a guy come three times just from sitting
on his own nuts. Mind you he was sitting on them for thirty six hours. Young
guys like you usually blow almost instantly. I suppose everyone is different.
You must have felt something though, what did it feel like?"
"There was a slow sort of pumping feeling, deep inside." Jeremy felt like he
was talking to a market researcher.
"I would have thought that would be slightly pleasurable."
"Maybe it was, I guess I was sort of too distracted to notice."
Balfor took a butt plug out of his leather bag and held it for him to see.
"Aren't you going to say hello?"
"To you or that thing sir?"
Balfor ignored that comment. "This thing is called a butt plug and I'm going
to jam it up your ass."
"It's big sir."
"Yes it is... Carmen will be here in a little while. I've suggested a game.
Are you up to it?"
"Will that make any difference- sir?" Jeremy felt philosophical and sort of
detached. He allowed an insolent lilt to creep audibly into his voice.
"Probably not. Carmen's been very busy lately and she hasn't had time to go
out and get sex. I said she looked a little uptight and could do with a shag.
Unbelievably, she agreed for once. Just between you and me, I think she
fancies me, but as you found out, I'm a bit gay." Balfor adjusted his cock
through the worn denim crotch of his jeans, giving his heavy, well delineated
lunch a languid, satisfied squeeze.
"What are you going to do, um, sir?"
"I'm going to kill two birds with one stone. I'm going to cheer Carmen up and
give you that spanking I promised you." He smiled rakishly, pleased with
himself.
Carmen appeared dressed entirely in glossy black latex. She sat on the bed and
started to fondle Jeremy's hair distractedly with a gloved hand. There were
some multicolored dental dams flopping out of a pocket in her pants. Jeremy
had learned about dental dams in an unofficial safe sex information session at
school. He had not imagined that anyone ever actually used them.
Balfor removed the leather harness holding Jeremy in place on the bed, and
rubbed the marks where it had made dents in his skin.
"Right Jeremy let's see you flip over on your belly."
Jeremy knew if he didn't do what he was told Balfor would make things worse.
His face turning scarlet with embarrassment as he turned and twisted to left
and to the right, but he couldn't flip himself over. He began to feel like a
turtle stuck on its back. He kept trying to use arms and legs that weren't
there any more. It was beyond frustrating. He wanted to cry, but he was not
going to give these creeps the satisfaction.
"It takes a while for them to learn." said Carmen, helping him onto his belly.
"You're going to do a good job of licking Carmen while I spank your bottom.
Isn't that going to be fun?... Well?"
"I thought that was a rhetorical question. Sir." Jeremy was feeling very sour
and surly. It had occurred to him that it was hardly possible that these
people could do anything worse to him than they had done already, and so there
was nothing really they could threaten him with.
"O.K. We'll soon belt that insolence out of you."
Carmen demurely unzipped a patch of rubber in her crotch and swapped a dental
dam for it immediately, almost frantically as if protecting her vulva from
deadly radiation.
"Carmen isn't worried about HIV," said Balfor. "She's just terrified of man
germs in general."
"Shut up." Said Carmen.
"It must be hard for a straight woman not to be able to touch a man. She's
completely obsessive compulsive you know. When ever she craves actual skin to
skin contact with another human it has to be a woman doesn't it Carmen?"
"Of course. Men are disgusting. You should know, dog fucker."
"Dog fucker?" Asked Jeremy feeling bold.
"He fucks the guard dogs out in the kennel. He likes to make the kennel torsos
suck the dogs off, then he fucks the top dog and makes the torsos watch.
Everybody knows."
"Kennel torsos?"
"If you don't sing real sweet for Mr Friedrichs you'll end up outside rolling
on the dirt, getting fucked by the guard dogs all day long. I bet you thought
the worst was behind you. Do you sing sweety?"
"You mean like- actual proper singing?" Jeremy wasn't sure. "Singing" might
mean anything around here.
"Yeah honey."
"I was in the church choir." Jeremy had found singing in the choir
interminably boring. How dearly he wished he could be back there now, singing
the tired old hymns, even with Tommy Bartlett's death breath blowing on him
from behind.
"Well if you were good in this choir you should be all right then, honey.
You'll be dripping with baubles in no time and up to your ears in opulence.
Won't that be nice?"
Jeremy didn't ask. He'd had enough revelations for one day.
"What's so terrible about fucking a dog?" Balfor inquired in all seriousness,
though not genuinely hoping for a meaningful answer.
"Fucking animals is the lowest most disgusting thing a person could possibly
do."
Actually Jeremy could think of one or two things lower.
"But people are animals." Said Balfor. "That's what we are. Animals. When we
fuck each other we fuck an animal, so what's so terrible about fucking an
animal?"
"People are not fucking animals!" Shrieked Carmen in a voice that could etch
glass, flustered and offended by his cold logical atheism. She found it
infinitely vexing that this hunk could be a 'mo and so indomitable at the same
time, it went against everything she had been taught to expect. He dared to
threaten everything she believed and at the same time she lusted after him for
being so sexy and hated him for being such a sick dog fucking faggot.
"What are we then if we're not animals?"
"We're different. We're better."
"Why does that make it wrong to fuck them?"
"They're dirty."
"They're no dirtier than we are if you give them a bath. You'll have to do
better than that."
"Because... Because they can't consent!"
"And that's so very important? They can't consent to being eaten either but
that doesn't mean we go without our braised steak."
Jeremy thought it extremely rich that Carmen was arguing from consent.
Anyway what makes you think they can't consent?"
"Because they can't talk."
"Do you think people who can't talk can't consent?"
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Spat Carmen etching more glass. "You fucking
disgusting dog fucker! You know exactly why it's disgusting! You're just a
disingenuous smartass!"
"Isn't she sweet?" said Balfor to Jeremy. "I'd marry her and have her babies
if I thought she could resist eating her young."
"Ha! You're the cannibal around here Balfor, Freddy never invites me to
dinner. Why don't you tell Jeremy here how sweet his ball tasted? Which one
did you have, the left one or the right one? - or is it too hard to tell which
is which after they come off?"
Jeremy, lying on his stomach, reeled with helpless indignity. He felt like a
pound of flesh, like a grazing animal at auction. He recalled the "Restaurant
at the end of Universe" by Douglas Adams, the scene where the meal entreats
the diners to enjoy him, offering them parts of his body.
"You ate my balls too? I thought it was just Mr Friedrichs." The words seemed
to echo in his skull as his mind tried to reprocess them, so shocking it was
that this string of words could issue from his own mouth and be meaningful.
"He ate lots of you sweetheart." said Carmen, "He's Mr Friedrich's right hand
man. Right in there with him. He's got his place at the table quite
literally." Then turning to Balfor, "Why don't you flex your muscles for him
Balfor? After all they're sort of his really seeing how they were nourished
with protein from the meat of his arms and legs. Don't you think? Go on show
him what became of all the cut off bits."
Jeremy watched horrified as Balfor rose to the occasion, amiably flexing one
of his massive arms, smiling as he did so. It was an impressive sight, but not
of the steroidal condom-full-of-walnuts kind. Balfor was too proud of his big
balls to risk shriveling them with hormones and steroids. This gave him an old
fashioned kind of muscularity. He was not tanned either, but cream colored and
hearty rather. He looked like something out of a late nineteenth or early
twentieth century post card, a young strong man of the old world, before
circuit training or Nautilus equipment had been invented. He only ever trained
with free weights. He even had the not very carefully manicured facial hair to
go with the look. It was like George Hackenschmidt got pregnant to Omer de
Bouillon and they called the bearded baby Balfor.
Jeremy felt himself begin to cry. These people had taken away his dignity.
They had stolen his sex and they had stolen his limbs and the worse part was
he was still here to see it and feel it. He felt half way to being a ghost.
The worst nightmare of his childhood had been nowhere near this baleful.
How utterly, consummately horrific it had been after Balfor had squashed and
stretched his balls practically to death, to watch Freddy at work between his
legs, blurred weirdly through a filter of tears. To feel those sharp slicing
pains as his tormentor deftly cut the orbs out of their raw sac which still
seeped blood it had been so badly stretched.
To know that the organs that made him a man were gone forever. What was he
now? How was he to conceive of himself? He knew of no precedent for this.
There were no role models to emulate. No precedents to access. He was lost. He
had not imagined it possible to be deflated to such a level of desolation.
Yet at the same time he was a million miles away from it all, filtering the
horror through a numbing gauze of disbelief and depersonalisation.
And then after a week of recovery from his neutering Mr Friedrichs had begun
the tattooing of the soles of his feet and when he was finished Jeremy had
been knocked out with drugs and upon awakening discovered the loss of his left
leg and then he truly began to comprehend the scale of the abject degradation
and torture that was planned for him.
It was beyond even this new comprehension though, to encompass the horrific
ordeal of losing his other leg without anything to kill the pain what so ever.
"Don't take it." He had screamed out, frantic and desperate, pleading as if
this could make a difference. "It's a healthy leg! There's nothing wrong with
it! Your making me lame. I could work. I could be a slave and do work. You're
making me useless! Your removing all my reasons for existing!"
"Nonsense." Freddy had said. "You'll soon discover that I have new reasons for
you to exist."
And then the same with his arms as they were taken after designs had been
pricked into his palms.
Freddy cut off his ears with a Stanley knife, explaining how he liked to cook
them like pork crackling.
"I never cut off the nose though." Said Freddy. "It's hard to look at a face
without a nose, and I don't like to create ugliness in the world."
Friedrichs didn't want to create ugliness. Jeremy felt himself drowning in
irony. To think that he had been frightened of the dentist. The dentist! Nice
old Dr Starkenburg!
Jeremy had descended into madness at this point, Dr Starkenburg being the last
lucid thought he could remember before the fog set in. For several weeks he
took on his five year old's personality and was sheltering in fantasy. In his
delusion he thought that Carmen was his Mom. Every so often he would ask in a
sing song voice when she was going to drive him to school.
Once this amusing mental breakdown had dissipated, and Jeremy returned to a
fully sober apprehension of his situation, Carmen came in one day and began to
manipulate his lonely little acorn of a penis with her latex gloved hand.
"Mr Friedrichs is going to penectomise you just as soon as you have one last
orgasm." She said matter of factly. "It's a tradition around here, sort of
like a condemned man's last request."
"Oh right. Of course. What else would it be?" he had said, voice quavering,
lip quivering, brain turning to mush, able to think of nothing more to say for
the occasion. He wanted to fall apart, to beg and to blabber but he knew that
it would do him no good. He stared at the ceiling as his cock enjoyed itself
almost independently of him as he fell apart again inside.
Although she was not very good at wanking his cock, it had been a long time by
then since Jeremy had any stimulation, so the mere fact of something touching
him down there was enough to get him fearsomely swelled and hard.
Freddy had come in with a riding crop then, and proceeded to crack it across
his tender abdominals, delivering a pat spiel about how all this was
appropriate punishment for a traitor like Jeremy and that death was too good
for him and that was why he had not been delivered into it. Carmen moved her
hand away and Freddy clapped the crop on Jeremy's cock for a while, pleased
with the fearful cries and involuntary twisting and shuddering this caused.
There were red welts on Jeremy's belly and cock by the time Freddy had
finished his customary righteous, crop-crack punctuated speech.
Then Freddy had gone away and Carmen had spent a lot of time wrapping Jeremy
carefully in tape and latex. How hot and horrified he had become in that
suffocating cocoon, tight and constraining around his already demobilized
body.
After leaving him like that for several hours, she got him hard again and then
descended upon and enveloped his condom sheathed cock. Squeezing it painfully
with her very strong vaginal muscles, bending it this way and that with her
grinding and gyrating.
The experience was horrible for him. He cried out in his misery for Melanie.
How gentle and soft his girlfriend had been by comparison. Jeremy had hardly
known how to appreciate her.
This rape of the remainder of him by Carmen was absolutely soul destroying, it
was the icing on the cake of everything he'd been through. He could feel
aspects of himself collapse inside him like the floors of a falling building.
She conquered him with her strident undulations, but his cock stayed hard in
spite of him.
He blew a load of useless barren fluid into the condom, and with tears
streaming out of his eyes to dampen the space between his face and the latex
mask, he had a pathetic distracted sort of disappointing orgasm.
He knew it was his last, and it was.
And then Freddy had tattooed and sliced off his penis, with all the added
horror and pain entailed and now Balfor was here to give him a promised
spanking. He was in hell. He was in a level of hell that Dante had forgotten
to describe.
The frustrating horror of seeing Balfor's muscles, nourished with his own
stolen meat became too much for him to bear. His body shuddered as he sobbed
and Carmen cuddled him to her rubbery breast.
"There there sweety."
"Oh Carmen. Look what you made me do!" said Balfor, "Now he's all upset."
Balfor sat on the bed and picked up Jeremy's rump, plopping it onto his denim
and leather clad lap. He fondled his lilly white buns for a while, smoothing
his broad warm hand on them. Jeremy stopped sobbing. The feel of Balfor's
soothing hand on his ass was hypnotic and very calming, even for a straight
boy in his kind of extremis.
When Jeremy seemed sufficiently relaxed, Balfor took the butt plug, a chubby
short dildo really, and lubing it up minimally, he pushed it into Jeremy's
arse hole.
Jeremy squealed in pain and humiliation as his sphincter cramped with the
shock, but Balfor rammed it in inexorably anyway.
"You keep nice and tight and hold this in. If I see you pushing it out I'll
get very angry."
Gradually Jeremy's panting subsided as his muscles relaxed around the pole of
latex, but there was still a curiously arousing knob of pain where the head of
the plug pushed uncomfortably into his prostate. He could feel the stump of
his cock swelling inside him, and knew that if he still had his dick it would
be going hard. He was almost glad that it was not there anymore to betray his
involuntary excitement.
Jeremy was a lean, pretty young man who had grown from a willowy, shy sort of
lad; for many years, one of his biggest fears had been that people might
mistake him for gay.
Balfor wiped the lube off his hands with a damp rag and then gave Jeremy a
little slap on the rump.
"I love the way Freddy leaves just enough thigh to keep their arses well
shaped." Said Balfor. "I swear that man is a surgical genius. He doesn't
really need to run this private prison you know. He could probably make as
much money working as a plastic surgeon."
"Ah, alas I have lost my license to practice as you well know Balfor." Said
Freddy checking in on them. "What's going on in here?" he asked.
"We're about to have a little spank" said Balfor. "Do you want to watch?"
"Sure why not." Freddy pulled up a chair.
Jeremy felt his face grow beet red as his embarrassment hit an all time high.
Why could he not die? Why didn't the ground just open up beneath him and
swallow him up? How was it possible that this could be happening to him?
"I've lost the mood." Said Carmen storming out, holding the dam in place with
her hand as she went, glaring at Balfor. She was sweet on Balfor but there was
no way she was going to perform in front of her boss. She would not be so
demeaned.
"Oh well never mind." said Balfor, slapping Jeremy once again open handed. The
sound rang out in the room loud and clear. Jeremy cried out. His humiliation
bloomed as painful as the glowing hot tingle on his rump.
Freddy tittered.
"How about instead of licking Carmen through one of those stupid dental dams
of hers, I make you lick the arse of the man who cut off all your parts?" Said
Balfor. "And I mean your tongue on his arse, no intervening membrane. How
would that be? assuming Mr Friedrichs is amenable?"
"Oh yes, why not, I haven't had my ornaments lick my arse for quite a while
now. It takes all the fun away when they're too used to it. I've begun to
forget how nice it feels."
"I hope it isn't too clean." Said Balfor.
Freddy laughed. "I showered this morning, after my daily crap as usual."
"Oh well never mind, at least we have about ten hours of crack sweat on it by
now. That should flavor it up a bit for him. Have you had a busy day, lots of
running around in between sitting down?"
"Yes quite."
"Ideal. I'd be tempted to lick it myself if I didn't know you too well
already." Said Balfor laughing "Jeremy my boy, you're in for a treat. What do
you say?"
Jeremy could not believe this. It was utterly too much. He did not know what
to say or do. He had no idea how he was going to deal with what was coming. He
had never contemplated anything as disgusting as licking an arse hole, let
alone this particular arse hole. The thing was beyond comprehension.
"What do you say?" Asked Balfor again slightly louder, his hand poised above
Jeremy's bottom.
Jeremy murmured something into the pillows. The but plug was already getting
very uncomfortable.
"Say "thank you sir!"" Balfor slapped him very hard, jolting the plug into him
like a shot. Jeremy's tight little white boy's bum wobbled like a blancmange
as the crack echoed in the room.
"AHHH... thank you... sir..." he began to weep. He wanted to die. Anything to
be away from this utter nightmare. He supposed he had deserved to be punished
for his crime but not like this. This was cruel and unusual, as cruel and
unusual as it was possible to get and wasn't there supposed to be a law
against that?
"He's a nice middle class boy." Said Freddy. "And he's straight. I think it
will take a lot of persuasion to get that tongue out... Perhaps you should
warm him up for a while Balfor, to get him in the mood for cooperation."
"His dad's a police lieutenant you know." Said Balfor. "That's why he's so
well trained and good with his manners. I guess that was why he thought he
could get away with all that unpaid for coke as well. He's always had daddy to
protect him, so he thought he was superman. It's a shame."
"Looks like you're his daddy right now Balfor." Mused Freddy.
Balfor took off his half slung back pack and pulled a bull whip out of it.
Jeremy saw it and whimpered, burying his face in the pillows where Carmen had
been sitting. He wished she'd come back. The prospect of munching carpet
through latex was so innocuous by comparison.
Balfor doubled the whip onto itself several times and slapped Jeremy across
the arse cheeks with it. Red welts appeared like rosy shadows where it had
contacted his flesh.
"Yep, you'll pink up nicely boy." Said Balfor. "I'm going to keep this up now
until you beg me to let you lick Mr Friedrich's arse instead. You know, Mr
Friedrichs, the guy who cut off all your arms and legs and your balls, and
took your dick off as well recently? That Mr Friedrichs? Do you reckon you're
gonna beg for it?"
"No sir. Not in a million fucking years." Said Jeremy through gritted teeth,
knowing this was just bravado. He had experienced enough of Balfor by now to
know that he could make him do pretty much anything he felt like.
"Good. That's just what I wanted to hear. The longer I whip, the redder you
get, the better I like it."
Balfor set in whipping his arse at a regular regimental beat. It was not long
at all before Jeremy's alabaster globes began to look more like rose quartz.
Jeremy whimpered and sobbed and then cried out as Balfor increased the
intensity of his assault with every lashing.
Searing flames of pain flashed and licked at his buttocks burning him deeper
and deeper. He could barely breathe. He gasped rather than drew proper breath
and tears streamed down his cheeks. Let Balfor kill him. Let him whip him to a
soggy blob of bloody flesh, there was no way he was going to beg to lick arse,
let alone that particular arse hole.
He thought of Melanie. So glad she was not here to witness this. He smiled
inside to think of his life growing inside her. He knew he would never know
his child. Never play after work and on weekends. Never see the first steps,
hear the first word.
Misery began to engulf him. He remembered that he had endangered the lives of
children with his selfish carelessness, as Balfor had pointed out so many
weeks ago.
If a man endangered his own child that way, threatened him or her with severe
deprivation, would he not want him punished in a similar way to that which he
was suffering now?
He had to admit yes.
It was indeed probable that people at the bottom of the cocaine food chain
would have gone without because of his crime. Perhaps a crime within a crime
did deserve a punishment within a punishment.
Perhaps that was the reason for the extreme misery at this hell hole.
Mr Friedrichs was clearly enjoying this. Jeremy could see that his pants were
tenting.
Balfor was enjoying it too, Jeremy could feel the man's heavy cock growing
like something hydraulic, pushing into his side through the denim where he lay
against his flaggelator's crotch.
The sound of Balfor's whipping clapped loud and bright on the air. Every
contact of leather on Jeremy's rump lashed him with horrendous stinging pain.
He squirmed and wriggled, utterly incapable of escape or any defense what so
ever.
He had been tied up during his kidnapping and thought at the time that that
was the limit of helplessness a man could feel.
To be missing his arms and legs was like irrevocable bondage in another
dimension. He could feel his lost limbs now, phantom appendages poking out at
odd angles, non existent muscles desperately trying to flex as his frantic
brain sent impulses to nowhere.
He felt the humiliating butt plug wobbling inside him. The shameful secret
arousal deep inside that he knew would lead nowhere. He felt a rivulet of piss
escaping from his truncated urethra, no doubt soaking into Balfor's jeans, but
he was too frightened of further punishment to be proud of soiling his
tormentor in this way; besides, he had not done it on purpose. Intent was
everything in a power exchange, he realized, and at the moment he could not
muster any effective intent what so ever.
He felt the inner fog increasing as massive frustration engulfed him and
threatened once more to drive him into madness.
Why could he not have settled down to a humble life with Melanie? A little
family in a rented bungalow in the suburbs? What would have been so terrible
about that?
Why had he gone so recklessly for the big unattainable prize?
The relentless advertising had gotten to him. On tv and on billboards, on
buses and trains, on the baseball pitch, even on his uniform it was everywhere
and utterly inescapable. He had become a part of it. The glossy overdriven one
upmanship of runaway capitalism had eaten his soul and was it any wonder? Why
had he not resisted it? He knew other people did. His father was immune. His
mother God bless her was immune. It was because he was stupid and a weak
willed conformist. That was it. He was desperately dumb and stupid and a
loser. He had been consumed by the need to consume, and his greed had pushed
him to deeper and deeper debt and worse and worse acts of desperation. His
life had been a hell long before they had bundled his sorry naked ass into the
boot of that sedan in the lane behind the jewelry store. His father had always
known it. He was good for nothing.
He had been sustained in life by the thought that maybe one day he would grow
up and feel like a man and be worthy of his father's admiration. Maybe after
years of doing what he was told he would get to feel like an adult, worthy of
his responsibilities; arriving at that promised place. He never would now, no
matter what happened, he would never ever get to feel like a man.
It was all probably just an illusion anyway. He would probably have grown old
waiting for a feeling that never actually comes to anybody. He hoped so. It
was a consoling thought for a human remnant in his position.
He remembered the shame of stepping out of his childish Bugs Bunny boxers, the
ones that Melanie had bought him for his birthday. The last item of clothing
he had worn. He wondered if he would ever wear clothes again and if so what
form could they possibly take- a sack with a drawstring at the neck? A diaper
underneath for his constantly leaking urethra?
How sad. A frivolous pair of Bugs Bunny boxers. It seemed to sum him up
completely. He cried for himself, for his abject childish haplessness which
the print on those underpants symbolized so well.
Melanie had been so proud of his having to wear boxers. Briefs had become too
tight and constricting on his low hanging egg sized balls, he had explained.
She loved to play with them. It took him a long time to get hard and she liked
to have something impressive of his in her small hand to get her aroused. It
was like she was a stud farmer weighing the merchandise of her prize bull. He
loved it.
She liked him to be in boxers also, so she could flop his ball sack out
through the fly and fondle it before he was completely undressed.
He doubted he would now ever have to undress again. These people were
obviously going to keep him as nude as a neutered hairless cat until the day
they finally got around to killing him.
What a strange feeling it was to be perpetually naked and vulnerable and yet
have no private parts to hide.
He had been reduced to a nothing, and stupidly he had thought that would be
the end of his torment.
The pain of Balfor's rhythmic lashing was rapidly getting too intense to bear.
He ground his teeth, writhing in misery. Sweat flowed freely off his face and
body.
He realized he had been screaming. He had gone out of himself again, as had
happened when Freddy cut bits off him without anesthetic. It was as if he were
watching himself from another dimension, wobbling and shrieking in a mirror
world.
Balfor's stroke after shocking stinging stroke was jerking him back into
himself rapidly however, and he realized that pretty soon he was going to be
begging for the chance to lick his torturer's sweaty date.
It suddenly occurred to him that there had never been any choices in his life.
Perhaps choice was an illusion, more accurately conceived as a contest between
impulses. He was either motivated as an organism to do one thing or another
and the thing that he had been taught to call choice was merely a
rationalization after the fact of one impulse triumphing over another.
Like Balfor was triumphing over him right now. Like the impulse to avoid
licking arse hole was losing to the impulse to avoid further pain on his buns.
"All right yes. Please! Stop whipping me! Yes! Please."
"Please what?"
"Oh no... No! I mean yes. Please let me lick... Mr... Friedrich's...
Ass hole."
"One more "please"."
"Please."
"Good boy!" Said Balfor. "Wish granted."
Freddy got up out of his chair, stood up on the bed, turned around, pulled
down his pants and briefs and knelt on them without pulling them off over his
boots. His belted trousers formed a convenient pillow where they sat strung
between his ankles.
Freddy held up his shirt tails while Balfor manhandled Jeremy so that his head
was resting on the folded trousers, Freddy sat down without much ceremony on
Jeremy's face.
"Is he licking?" asked Balfor.
"Not yet."
Jeremy was enclosed in Mr Friedrich's hairy legs between his boots and under a
tent of shirt tails, the horrible male stink of the monstrous man reeking in
his nostrils. His arse crack was draped over his face but as yet he had not
managed to force himself to poke out his tongue.
"You better start licking, Jeremy." Said Balfor.
"I can't. This is sick! I won't do it. Why don't you just kill me for Christ's
sake?" He cried.
"I think you had better light one of those cigars of yours Balfor, otherwise
we're going to be here all day." Said Freddy pragmatically.
Balfor took a cigar out of his shirt pocket, bit off the end and lit it,
taking a few puffs to get the end nice and fiery. The air filled with the
scent of the cigar, aromatic and masculine.
Jeremy knew what was coming but he still could not make himself poke out his
tongue.
Jeremy screamed as Balfor touched him on the belly with the fire, then his
ground it for just a moment into Jeremy's fresh pink penectomy scar.
Jeremy screamed and struggled uselessly to wriggle out from under his captor,
and then terrified of further pain, his tongue came out. He started probing
for the opening of Mr Friedrich's coit. He found it and tried not to think
about the repulsive taste that began to harmonize with the already awful smell
he was experiencing. He had expected it to taste like shit, but it didn't. It
tasted like the very essence of Friedrich's. An indescribable mix of stygian
flavors. It was as if Jeremy were taking onto his tongue the quintessential
evil of his tormentor.
"How's he doing?" Asked Balfor.
"Not very well." Said Freddy, I think he's a little shy and inexperienced. "I
can barely feel it."
"You better work that tongue a little better Jeremy or I'll burn your nipples
with my cigar. Do you want to be left with numb, scarred nipples?"
Jeremy's nipples had always been more sensitive than he had liked to admit. He
began to flick his tongue in and out of Friedrich's arse hole as delicately
and as skillfully as he possibly could. He hoped that if he did a good job
this would all be over and they'd just go away and leave him alone.
"Don't attack it. Don't rape it with your tongue." Said Balfor, "Lick it like
the delicacy that it is. Be gentle. Make love to it. Pretend it's a mouth and
you're kissing it. Apply a little pressure but don't thrust exactly." Balfor
delivered this advice with as much aplomb as he would had it been a golf
lesson.
Jeremy worked his tongue over and around and in the torus of muscle pressed
against his face with terrific concentration. He began to get used to the
humiliating flavor, his mind could not help but associate it with the
wonderful feeling of relief from the pain of his whipping. Although his bottom
still stung, the pain was no where near as fierce as it had been as Balfor
reached the crescendo the flaying.
After twenty minutes or so, Freddy said, "All right I think he's done enough
rimming, why don't you leave us alone now Balfor and I'll show him the rest of
what he's in for from now on."
"Fine," said Balfor smiling wickedly, "I'll head off to the kennel since I've
got a cigar lit already..."
Balfor left, taking his bag of whips and toys with him.
"You are a filthy, filthy man Balfor." Freddy called after him.
The distant and diminishing sound of Balfor laughing echoed from the hall.
Freddy had become hard from the prolonged stimulation of Jeremy's tongue and
as he got up off his face, Jeremy saw the man's incredibly ugly pencil dick,
bent, scarred, unevenly pigmented and ropy at the base with bulging purple
varicose veins. The stiff skinny horror poked obscenely out above a tiny pair
of unevenly sized raisin like balls, a scouring pad of wiry ginger pubic hair
sitting on top of it all like an afterthought.
Although he knew himself to be straight, Jeremy wished Balfor would come back.
If he had no choice but to submit to a session of man on man sex he would
rather do it with one who was handsome and healthy looking and who smelled
nice. Even if Balfor had just whipped him like a sorry dog.
But no. Balfor did not come back.
Jeremy was pushed over onto his stomach again, He felt the butt plug which he
had forgotten all about, drawn uncomfortably out of him and then the horrible
nauseating jabbing pain as Freddy replaced the latex pole with his own reedy
needle dick and instantly started rutting like an insane jack rabbit.
Jeremy wailed a long sustained keening cry, vibratoed slightly by Freddy's
thrusting.
"Excellent." Said Freddy. "A perfect "A" precisely four hundred and forty
hertz. You're going to be a good singer aren't you!"
He came mercifully quick and pulled out.
Jeremy sighed audibly with relief.
As Freddy pulled up his trousers, Jeremy wondered wryly when all this
punishment was going to start improving his soul.
He consoled himself with one thought, one possibility; the hope that his
father, a man who knew how to be outraged, would not rest until he had avenged
this.
"I'll send Carmen back to clean you up." Said Freddy on his way out. "Welcome
to the madhouse Jeremy!"
Gerald and Anselmo surveyed the rusted form of the badly smashed Land Rover
deep in the ravine off the road to Mandinga. They were both depressed that the
accident had deprived them of their revenge on the primary torturer of Calle
Rosario.
Gerald's foot ached from kicking the vehicle's carcass over and over again
with impotent rage. How dare this Manuel Friedrichs die and deprive him of his
right to avenge his son? How dare he? He picked up what ever bleached bones he
could find lying about and crushed them with a rock, stamped on them with his
foot, or threw them into the stream below, furious with frustrated, impotent
rage.
He had wanted to crush the riotously painted skull he had seen at the police
headquarters in Panama City as well.
"Remember dear. Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. Promise me you'll keep that
at the back of your mind no matter what else happens. Do right by Jerry but
don't lose your way." his annoyingly pious wife Veronica had said that to him
as he had turned to board the plane to Panama. He had nodded to her, but in
his heart he had made no such promise. He did not trust the Lord's idea of
vengeance to have caused the monster to suffer enough. But then he would
suffer the eternal torment of Hell wouldn't he? Gerald doubted it strongly and
remembered again how far all this had caused him to stray from his faith.
In his heart a fury had been kindled that he knew would not be extinguishable
until he found the other one. That Balfor Cooper.
"Anselmo, Where would you go if you were a drug smuggling sadist who needed to
get out of Central America?" He asked his friend.
"Somewhere in South East Asia I suppose, or maybe Russia now that the wall has
come down." Anselmo answered him.
"Russian organized crime tends to be a bit xenophobic." Said Gerald. "They
don't employ non Russians if they can help it. I think we should focus on
South East Asia. Especially avenues involving selling Asian product in
Australia or New Zealand. Something tells me that Cooper would have gotten
homesick by now. He'd want to drop in somewhere resembling home pretty
regularly, now that he's getting a little older."
"I like how you think." Said Nettis. "But where do we begin? South East Asia
is big place."
"I guess we contact the police in Hong Kong, Maybe Singapore. Jakarta I don't
know. We've got research to do, contacts to make.
"Then we do it." Said Nettis.
"Then we do it." Said Macarthur. "What choice do we have?"
They climbed out of the ravine up the ropes they had rappelled down earlier,
energized with fresh hope generated by the new direction they had found for
their efforts.
"I'm probably going to have to mortgage my home to pay for this." Said Nettis.
"The government is not well disposed to funding personal vendettas, even when
it is in close cooperation with the police. Maria isn't going to be happy."
"Me too." Said Gerald. "Ditto with Veronica."
Both men knew that their wives would agree to the expense however, there was
no going back now, not now that they met Parnell Baxter, and he had shown and
explained to them the nature of what had happened to their sons at Calle
Rosario.
Gerald and Anselmo had been amazed by Parnell's attitude in spite of his
losses, and his level of adjustment to his new circumstances. He had known
both Jeremy and Dino briefly in his days as a house ornament, and assured the
men that their sons had not ended up in the kennel. He had been there to the
last, so he would have known.
Anselmo had renewed hope that Dino was still alive now that he knew his son
had not been in the kennel nor had appeared in the grave. Also according to
Parnell, Dino had somehow become Freddy's favorite. That was so like Dino it
made Anselmo smile. It was most likely that his son was indeed the Athos
Hermes who he and Gerald had gone to see in Buenos Aires.
Why had he run away from them? Had he fled his father feeling shame because of
what had befallen him? Had Maria and he really been such distant demanding
figures that their son might imagine their love so strictly conditional;
conditional upon his staying intact as a man? Or was it his own pride keeping
him from them? Perhaps he simply wanted to spare them the horror of knowing
his condition.
Perhaps he had grown ashamed of exploiting his new circumstances, allowing
himself to sink into the pornographic underworld of Extreme Body Modification,
Sadomasochism and Amputee Fetishism for the sake of money. Perhaps that was
the cause of his reluctance to reestablish contact with his family.
Anselmo would have to find out before he could rest without guilt.
Murni's Warung is a highly ornate traditionally open-constructed restaurant
built on the edge of a deep verdant canyon just outside of Ubud in Bali. It
has many levels descending to the cool bottom of the chasm along which a river
tumbles pleasingly over rocks and boulders. Ferns and palms and creepers adorn
the steep slopes and larger trees at the top extend the rampantly luxuriant
tropical effect.
Dino and Carmen were there on the second level down, waiting for Oliver and
his father to join them for dinner. Dino was wearing dark glasses with his
almost black Zegna. They made him looked blind as well as limbless.
Carmen's phone rang. "She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain" was her annoying
tinny ring tone of the moment. It was an sms message from Oliver. He had gone
to the airport to meet his father. Apparently the flight was going to be late
and so they should just eat and then go home without him.
Dino and Carmen were not upset about this news, neither being too keen to meet
Oliver's father, in spite of their friend's protestations that his "old man"
was really quite "hip."
Dino sipped his "Micky Mouse" - a kind of coca cola ice cream spider, and
Carmen mined her way through a huge bowl of tropical fruit salad. Every so
often she'd offer Dino a piece of this or that exotic fruit and they would
comment on the unusual flavour and texture of the varicolored bits and pieces.
Neither Dino nor Carmen wanted to discuss the shocking news that they had seen
on Oliver's satellite tv two nights ago. They had pretty much exhausted the
subject.
The Calle Rosario affair had been blown wide open and was rapidly becoming an
international media feeding frenzy.
Dino had seen Parnell Baxter talking about his experiences. It was nice to see
that Parnell was still alive, but the experience of watching him on television
had been unsettling to say the least.
Carmen's relief that he had not mentioned her was very obvious.
More disquieting had been the news that Dino's father was still looking for
him. They had shown old photos of him. He was quite alarmed, and worried that
someone might recognise him.
A warm feeling spread inside Dino to know that Balfor was still alive, and
that Freddy was dead. For once the Gods had got it right. He began to
entertain a guilty hope that he might actually get to see him again and maybe
fuck once more.
Oliver had wanted Dino to get in touch with his father. He said there was a
lot of money to be made in family reunions of that sort. the big media
companies pay a fortune for exclusives. That was typical of Oliver's thinking.
Always looking for the financial angle.
Dino had flatly refused. He did not want to be an international media event
and have to live it down for the rest of his life. But then again, it was
inevitable wasn't it? He would have to live Calle Rosario down for the rest of
his life, why not this too? And so what if his parents found out what had
become of him?
He did not want to have to think about it. He took another mouthful of "Micky
Mouse."
Dino started to spend more and more time in between slurps pretending to stare
at the exquisitely carved and painted ceiling of interlocking, tessellating
wood and thatch and tile. It always puzzled him how well the Dutch oil lamps
with their ornate brass and white glass worked with the more traditional
elements of the Balinese style architecture. Actually he was gazing above
mostly in order to surreptitiously crane his head to spy a strange man with a
benevolent face, reminiscent of Herge's "Tin tin" who sat diagonally opposite
them, listening to something on a walkman, unable to conceal his reciprocal
curiosity and desire to stare at Dino.
Dino sometimes liked to play games like this with strangers who couldn't help
but ogle him when he and Carmen were out.
The strange man suddenly got up and left. Dino noticed that he'd left his
walkman behind.
"Carmen - that strange man has left his walkman behind" he said. "let's grab
it before the staff take it to lost and found."
"Ooh you are naughty." Said Carmen, moving like a lynx cat across the divinely
furnished room to snatch the shiny state of the art MP3 device from the
stranger's table. "I like how you think."
"What was he listening to?"
Carmen put the head phones on and fiddled with the buttons on the tiny
gunmetal grey oblong for a moment.
Her face went distant and then a puzzled look and then a horrified look, and
then another puzzled look flashed across it.
"What is it?"
Lost for words, she took the headphones off and put them on him.
"Oh- My- God-" Said Dino.
"I believe that's my walkman you're listening to, if you don't mind." Said
David Travis, holding out his hand righteously to receive his property. The
manner in which Carmen removed the headphones from Dino and gave the device
back to him filled him with wonder. She looked at him as if he was a demon
from hell who might turn them both to stone.
"How did you get that recording?" Dino asked him.
"It's unusual isn't it. A very strange sort of voice. I can see how it might
give you the willies as it were. It was donated anonymously to the Cornell
University Music Library. I'm an assistant librarian there, though I've almost
finished my archive training. I'm going to be an archivist. Hi- My name's
David. David Travis, and you are..."
"My name's Dino, and this is Carmen."
"Hi." David shook hands with Carmen, visibly disoriented at not being able to
do so with Dino.
"Do you know that music?" David asked them.
"You could say that." said Dino.
"It's English you know. Henry Purcell; Very beautiful isn't it. The recording
is very idiosyncratic. You won't hear it arranged quite like that anywhere
else."
"I wouldn't expect so; that's me singing back up by the way."
"What?"
Dino sang his part of the song for him. It was the quickest way to prove his
point. For a little while the restaurant was filled with the achingly
beautiful sound of his voice.
David was flabbergasted. He instantly recognised Dino's voice from the
recording. He took a chair and absent mindedly sat down at the table with them
without an invitation. A thing he would never do under normal circumstances.
"You're going to have to tell me all about this so I can document the
recording for the library." he said taking out a notepad.
"Did you see the news two nights ago?" Asked Dino, "The story concerning a
secret private prison kept by a drug baron in Panama? the one where the
limbless skeletons were found in the backyard? And the weird skull of the man
responsible for most of the torture painted all over with spirals and symbols
by that demented farm girl?"
"Yes, but what's that got to do..." Suddenly it all clicked in his mind as the
thoughts crashed together like dodgem cars. Dino's limblessness, the limbless
skeletons at Calle Rosario on the news. The music, his wondering whether the
main singer had in fact been a proper castrato, cut before puberty. "It's a
proper castrato isn't it- on the recording. It has to be. That sick bastard
made a proper castrato."
"I'm not a thalidomide baby." Dino answered him shrugging his shoulders, a
gesture he was still capable of.
"Oh my God" said David. "You really were there; a part of that? Did he cut
your um, as..."
"Everything." Said Dino. "Everything that can be cut off and eaten without
killing a man. But unlike Felipe who was the real castrato, he didn't do me
until after puberty so my voice had already broken."
"You poor bastard." David said, awe struck, glancing down at Dino's crotch and
wondering what it looked like under the expensive suiting.
"Yes well..." Dino was struck with David's clear eyed sanguine up frontedness.
His charming lack of guile and delicacy. Very North American. He was reminded
of Jeremy for a moment.
"So Felipe is the name of the castrato. You know this could be huge. I've been
wanting to release this recording but there was no way of getting in contact
with the people who made it. Do you have any idea how much this is worth? A
rare recording like this would be absolutely lapped up by the high brow end of
the music market. The whole world should hear this, it's exquisite."
"I'm sure it's not to all tastes, and anyway it will be inextricable linked to
the crimes in Colon."
"Nevertheless it should still be made available. It's unique. It would be
terrible if all that suffering really was for absolutely nothing."
David drew a moist towelette from a plastic sache in his satchel and wiped his
face and hands with it. He did this so naturally that Dino did not even
notice. Carmen did though, with avid interest. She had an eagle eye for
fastidious cleanliness in men, hoping one day to find one she could actually
bare to touch.
"Well, Manuel Friedrichs, the skull guy, the fellow who made Felipe a castrato
is dead obviously" said Dino, "and so is poor Felipe, so is the other singer
on the recording. His name was Jeremy Macarthur, the son of the policeman who
started this whole investigation frenzy, you would have seen him on the news
too. That leaves me. I guess I'm the only one left who could give legal
consent to a commercial distribution of the recording."
"And I just happened to bump into you today? This is too incredible! It calls
for a serious drink. Waitress, the wine list!"
David insisted upon Dino and Carmen sharing a very good bottle from the
Warung's wine list with him. He was quite shaken by the enormity of the
coincidence. To bump into one of the back up singers of possibly the most rare
recording in the world while listening to that very recording in remote
restaurant while on a holiday in the far east. It did his head in. He
associated coincidences with fate and doom. They tended to make him feel an
unsettling proximity to the divine. He decided to try not to think about it.
"So the monster responsible for the Calle Rosario Atrocity is the one who sent
the recording to us at Cornell?"
"I expect so. You didn't send it out did you Carmen?"
"What's she got to do with it?"
"Nothing. She's just my nurse." Said Dino in perfect deadpan.
"She wasn't at the torture house?"
"No! God no. She's a sweety. Wouldn't hurt a fly."
Carmen breathed an almost visible sigh of relief, but was also a little
nonplused at being described as "just" a nurse, especially in front of a new
man who she thought was quite charming and sort of cute now that she had
gotten a good look at him. He was squeaky clean, and very neat and well
dressed as well, without being effeminate about it.
"There are other recordings." Said Dino. " You should probably hear them all,
you might like some of them, if you like the Dido. what hotel are you staying
at?"
"I'm at the Ananda just up the road from here."
"Excellent! Why don't you come back with us to our friend Oliver's house, you
can stay for a while; it's in the hills behind the Neka Art Museum, a fifteen
minute walk from the Ananda at the most. You could stay or go once you had
heard the recordings; your choice. I'm sure Oliver could put you up. He
wouldn't mind would he- do you think Carmen?"
"No I don't think he would mind at all." She said in her most seductive voice,
looking as deeply and seductively into David's eyes as she dared, fearing her
lust might appear too obvious.
"I can't wait to hear these recordings." Said David to Dino, "What are they
of?" He was a little taken aback with Carmen's interest in him. Women as
attractive as Carmen did not usually notice his existence. He was glad to be
going home with her, and worried about how forward he should be with her.
"Ive got recordings of Felipe singing some Handel, some Verdi, lots of
Puccini." Said Dino trying to recall exactly what Carmen had saved along with
his tattooed hands and feet and foreskin as they had hidden in the hole in the
cellar. "The Dido and Aeneas is his best though, I should warn you." Dino was
not silly enough to imagine that David would be interested the recordings
which were just Jeremy and himself. It was the proper castrato the world would
be after.
"Oh fantastic. It would be so much easier to sell a collection of recordings.
I was worrying that it might be difficult to market just a single one. It is
only a fairly short excerpt from the Dido and Aneas after all... Oh boy. Lets
see Decca, Deutche Grammophon, L'oiseau-Lyre, maybe Phillips would be places
to start; I mean to look for a distributor for the music." Said David
excitedly. "I'll have to call them all of course; fish for the best deal!"
"David." Said Dino. "You are going to have to promise me something; that my
name will not be mentioned anywhere. I don't want my parents to know that I'm
still alive. It would kill them; kill me too. Do you understand? No word of
me."
"Yes I think so." he replied, trying to imagine how he would feel in Dino's
shoes and not really being able to. Secretly he did not see how it would be
possible to keep Dino's identity a secret once the recording was released, but
he would do his best.
"One more thing."
"Yes?" David's mind was already swimming with too much detail. Too much input
and was quickly turning to fog.
"We have to find a Melanie Carter. With luck she's still living in Portland
Oregon. She was pregnant to Jeremy when he wound up at the prison house on
Calle Rosario. He used to talk about her all the time. If she had his child,
then that child should get a share of the profits. Don't you think?"
"Melanie Carter? I'll just write that down. Of course. Yes. That's only fair,
that their child should get a share."
On the way to Oliver's house, Dino sensed as Carmen pushed him along in his
chair, that some kind of emotional tension was brewing between her and their
new friend. Knowing the twisted extent of Carmen's emotional dysfunction, he
found this intensely amusing, and yet there was a hint of dread as well. If
she and David fell in love and somehow against all odds created a relationship
for themselves, how would he fit in? Who then would look after him?
He began to wonder whether he ought to get needy and manipulative or just
allow Carmen enough rope to hang herself, as she had always done in the past
before even getting into bed with the men who attracted her.
If worse came to the worst he supposed he could always drop her in it, just by
coming clean to David about her role at Calle Rosario. Yes, he to himself with
satisfaction, he had Carmen by the short and curlies as it were, and that was
fair and just really considering what she had participated in.
Maybe he would be generous and allow her a brief affair with this fellow, if
by some miracle she could manage it.
* * * |
REAL CASTRATORS OF ETHIOPIA | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Readers of the Eunuch Archive my like to know of the activities of the Afar tribe of Ethiopia who perform testicular castration on their enemies all the time. | REAL CASTRATORS OF ETHIOPIA
The Awash river flows into the Danakil desert in Ethiopia and there
dries up into a salt-marsh. In the 1930s the British Explorer
Wilfred Thesinger visited the area and was the first outsider ever to
go in and come out alive. Before then the area was unexplored. Many
had tried and none before had ever returned.
The tribes people of the area the Afar warriors are tall slim
muscular and have very dark skin. They have very long fuzzy hair but
their features are Ethiopian rather than Negroid.
In order to marry an Afar has to have killed someone and cut off
their testicles which are dried and worn as ornaments. They carry
old Italian rifles and shooting someone in the back is considered
quite acceptable. Indeed giving someone a sporting chance is
considered rather dumb. Sometime whole villages wipe each other out
in battles for trophies. The women wouldn’t dream of marrying a man
who didn’t have trophies.
There was a television documentary crew visit about 25 years ago but
since then people hardly ever visited the area. Even then the crew
remained hidden in houses when filming women as the local sense of
honour would have over ridden the local Chief’s guarantee of safe
conduct if they had been seen with a camera.
The Afar use curved knives but instead of an arc curve they are bent
in an angle with a pointed tip at the end. They are used by slashing
sideways to remove the testicles. Sometimes if a young boy is
castrated he is not killed but kept or sold as a slave.
Despite their gruesome reputation the Afar are a very happy jovial
people and adultery isn’t considered too serious. One would castrate
any stranger without a second thought but not do more than whip the
local adulterer of the same village.
Since the communists took over the country cotton has been planted
along the rivers to the north and when the Afar moved up to feed
their herds during the recent decade of drought they had no where to
go. Either they have mostly died out or been re-educated by the
Ethiopian government.
Another point to note is that was that in the 1930s Ethiopia as it
was the only black country not to be colonised by Europe. Evelyn
Waugh noted that when a large European delegation arrived to discuss
the danger of invasion from Italy the practice of public castration
was temporally abandoned . This had been the standard punishment for
all first offences for most crimes. When the Europeans left public
castration was reintroduced again. In fact the country was invaded
by Italy and may Italian soldiers provided trophies for the Afar. |
I Got It From Lucy | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | What does a young man do when he can't get it up any more? | ` I got it from Lucy `
It happened suddenly. I couldn't get it up any more. Lucy thought it was
because I'd stopped loving her and got upset. When I protested she made me go
to the doctor about it.
Doctor did a whole load of tests. I was perfectly healthy. They suspected some
psychological cause for my condition. A psychiatrist ran up a huge bill asking
me a lot of questions about my life, my marriage, sex and my attitude toward
them.
My life was fine. I had no anxieties or problems. My marriage had been fine up
until this impotence thing had started and Lucy thought I didn't love her any
more. I'd been bonking her at least three or four times a week ever since we
were married, and from some time before that. The only time I hadn't was a
year ago when she'd gone to stay with her parents for a week while her mother
got over an operation. But we certainly made up for it afterwards. Sex had
been fine too until that day when my prick stopped working. Now it didn't stir
at all. It was flaccid and limp no matter what.
Doctor gave me a penis injection device that worked but it was an artificial
erection that stayed up for an hour or so, even after I'd come. Lucy saw the
benefit of that. She took control of it and gave me an injection once a week.
Over the next few months it turned out that my condition was becoming an
epidemic. Millions of cases were being reported, all over the world. It was
like HIV when that started spreading. There was a whole load of frantic
research going on into it. They decided it was some new sexually transmitted
disease, one that had been previously unknown.
They eventually found the virus that was causing it. Women carried the virus
but it didn't affect them at all. During intercourse the virus transferred
into the urethra. It made its way up to the prostate where it took up
residence. It didn't seem to spread beyond the prostate, or if it did it was
destroyed by the immune system. In the prostate it was safe. A by-product of
its residency in the prostate destroyed the erectile nerve where it went
through the prostate. It took between one and two years from the time of
infection. After that, regardless of what the man was thinking or doing, the
brain could no longer initiate an erection because the nerve was no longer
intact.
"So it's all your fault," I told Lucy. I was just chaffing her and expected
her to come back with some riposte. Instead she went pale. She opened her
mouth as if to say something, thought better of it and walked out of the room.
She seemed distressed.
One thing that our thirty months of marriage had taught me was when Lucy was
like that it was best to keep out of her way. So instead of going after and
consoling her I carried on reading the paper, wishing I'd had enough sense to
keep my mouth shut, knowing it was her bad time.
She came back an hour or so later. It looked to me like she'd been crying. It
must be terrible to be a woman and get all irrational like that.
"Would you like some coffee, sweetheart?" I asked, hoping to cheer her up.
"Oh shut up Ben. Stop trying to be nice to me."
This was obviously a particularly bad time. "Why can't I be nice to you if I
want?"
"How do you think I feel, messing up your prick?"
"Oh! I'm not blaming you for that. I was just teasing you."
"So if it wasn't me you got it from, who was it? What have you been up to?"
There was the slightest emphasis on that last 'you.'
Suddenly I had a moment of truth. I knew I hadn't been unfaithful to Lucy.
We'd been a committed couple for the last five years, from before this virus
was ever heard of.
"Oh! I see." I looked at her. "Is there something you don't want to tell me?"
She nodded. This was a pivotal moment for her too.
I stood up, gave her a hug. "Maybe something stronger than coffee is called
for."
I poured us a drink each. We sat down.
"Ben, I am so sorry."
Just at that point my mind was boggled and I couldn't think. I certainly
couldn't think of anything to say. I am a clam-up person at the best of times,
that's what I did then. I just took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Lucy is a natural communicator. Her instinct is to talk through moments of
stress. "It was that time I went to stay with mom after her operation. I ran
into Mike Duggan."
I knew that Mike Duggan had been her first real boyfriend. He'd been in the
same year as Lucy at school and the object of her puppy love.
"It was all sort of unreal there, Ben, being back in the old house. My old
room hadn't changed at all. The town hadn't changed either. Without you there
it was a kind of time warp like I was still a teenager; no husband, no
responsibilities. The weather was warm and the days were long and sunny, just
like I remembered. Mom was no problem and she was coming on fine. She wanted
to regain her independence. Mike was there for a few days vacation, just for
old time's sake."
"There was no-one else from the old days, no one who mattered. We just kind of
hung out together. We were both seventeen again."
Lucy paused as if bracing herself for the next part of her story. Her throat
was constricted and she spoke in a soft small voice. "One night we drove out
to the old pond. It was warm and dark. We dared ourselves to go for a swim
again. And we did. Skinny dipped. Afterwards we huddled together to dry off
and it was Mike's skin on mine. For a while he was my guy again. We were still
together and had never broken up. You were in the future for me. We kissed and
made love on the blanket by the pond.
"When I got in Mom was still up. She didn't say anything but she probably
figured what had happened. She told me she could manage on her own and that I
ought to get back to you. I came home next day."
There was a long pause. I just sat there, still holding Lucy's hand.
I remembered how pleased Lucy had been to be home. How loving she was. How
nice it had been having her back. I hadn't suspected a thing. The possibility
hadn't even occurred to me.
I felt so stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. Why? I don't know, I just
did. I wasn't angry or jealous or anything. Just stupid. I knew I wasn't
thinking straight. I needed time to sort out this bombshell in my mind.
"Well, say something then. Scream or shout at me if you want. I know I deserve
it."
I realised that Lucy had her own problems arising from what had happened. I
had to say something. "Er, you should have told me this before. As soon as you
got back." It wasn't the most relevant thing to say but the best I could come
out with at that stage.
I got up and headed for the kitchen. I needed another drink but alcohol wasn't
going to help. I put on the kettle.
Lucy followed me out. "What difference would that have made? I was infected by
then but didn't know it. Nobody knew at that time."
I got the feeling that Lucy wanted an argument, a good shouting match. "That's
true," I replied quietly. "But it would have made it easier."
"Don't be stupid," Lucy snapped. "God! I feel bad enough without you rubbing
my nose in it. Why do we have to have this awful disease? Men are daft enough
about their pricks as it is. We don't need this on top of it."
This would be a lose-lose argument. "Let's sleep on it, sweetheart. We'll be
able to think better in the morning." I switched off the kettle as it was
coming to the boil.
Next morning Lucy woke me up just after five with tea in bed. Her excuse for
this terrible deed was "I couldn't sleep. We need to talk." Lucy meant that
she needed to talk. I needed some more sleep.
"Eh? Oh yeah." After I'd peed I felt a touch more awake and a few sips of tea
got my brain started.
"So tell me how you feel. What you think. I need a reaction from you. Dammit
all, do we still have a marriage?"
Just after being woken up is not the best time to get into a serious
discussion. Perhaps I should have stalled for time so that I could have
managed it better. As it was Lucy got what I really thought, undiluted by tact
and consideration. The only thing I remembered to get right was not to raise
my voice. I spoke softly. "What I think is that you had sex with another man
and kept it secret from me. You cheated on me and then compounded it with
deception. You've made your husband a cuckold; a laughing stock and an object
of scorn."
I looked her full on. "If that's what you think of me do you still want to be
married to me?"
Lucy was looking at me wide eyed. Her instinct was to protest her undying love
for me but the words stuck in her throat.
I went on. "If you prefer Mike Duggan or any other man to me then go to him. I
don't want to be your second choice. Someone you settle for rather than who
you really want."
I left her and went to shower. I realised now that what was pissing me off was
the deception. If she'd come back from her parents' place, told all and was
suitably contrite I could have taken it as a once off lapse. I'd have
understood as I'd have probably lapsed too under similar circumstances.
The one thing that really did worry me was that at some level she thought Mike
Duggan was a better man than me. Did she have some primordial instinct that
told her his DNA would produce better children than mine? Conventional wisdom
had it that a woman doesn't stray unless there's a reason for her to do so.
I'd have said we had a good marriage. She was well looked after, she was loved
and that love took frequent physical expression at the time. I'd have sworn
that she was happy being married to me. So what had she lacked that caused her
to betray me?
I put that to Lucy after I'd dressed and before I left the house.
She had all day to sort out her thoughts. Maybe she'd talk to someone about
it. She'd probably feel a need to and in doing so she'd tell the whole damned
world what she'd done to me. Why do we need a woman in our lives? A man
certainly takes a risk when he gets married.
I decided that if the marriage didn't work out I wouldn't get married again. I
did consult a lawyer on the implications of a divorce. He advised against it.
The law was capricious on the subject and I'd probably lose everything. There
were a few damage control measures one could take but it needed secrecy and a
long time period to do it successfully. And these days there is always an
audit trail
if anyone really wants to find out.
When I got in that evening it was interesting to see that Lucy was making an
effort. Instead of the usual old slacks and top she was wearing a nice dress,
had done her hair and put on some make up. There was a good meal too, ready
and waiting.
I complimented her on her appearance and on the meal. She looked pleased. We
ate together and afterwards she cleared up.
"About what you said this morning," Lucy began. "I've been thinking about it
all day."
"Perhaps I was a bit harsh."
"You had every right to be. And every word you said was true."
"You do prefer Mike Duggan to me?"
"No. Of course not. I don't want any other man but you. Oh Ben, I love you so
much. I don't want to lose you. Honestly."
I couldn't think of a word to say. I just looked at her as I tried to come up
with a reply. What was going through my head was 'Lucy doesn't want a divorce.
That matches the lawyer's advice not to get one.'
"Ben, understand that what happened was a mistake. A foolish, silly mistake. I
just got unlucky. It was that combination of circumstances... "
"So what do you want to do? Where do we go from here?"
"I'd like us to carry on together. Eventually we'll put it behind us."
"We'll have to work at it. I'm not sure it will ever be like it was before."
Lucy couldn't hide the relief she felt that I wasn't going to kick her out.
"I'll work at it, I promise you Ben. I swear I'll be a good wife to you."
"Know what you're in for, Lucy. It'll take me a while to get over this. It's
not going to be easy."
"Don't worry, I understand."
I'm no actor. When I'm pissed off it shows. I was pissed off with her and it
was the lawyer's advice rather than Lucy's pleading that saved our marriage.
About the only consideration I was able to show her over the next few weeks
was to be courteous. I didn't scream and shout and I didn't send her on a
guilt trip. She went on that all by herself.
We stopped using the injections too. I think that would have been a good thing
in any case. Those over-frequent injections were giving me lumpy hard spots on
my prick that were sensitive in a bad way.
The disease meanwhile continued to spread. Babies were being born already
infected. There were frequent reported cases of suicides from infected young
men who thought their lives not worth living without natural erections. There
were even suicide pacts of young couples who died together for the same
reason.
The suicides alarmed the authorities who launched a publicity campaign
'There's More to Life than Sex.' It had no effect whatsoever. Neither did the
pontifications of organised religion which were discarded as irrelevant. For
about the first time in history the world took the sex drive of young men
seriously. Researchers re-discovered the aching, burning, irresistible lust
that young men have had from the beginning of time. The only way they coped
with it was by masturbation and the eternal hope of getting into some girl's
pants sooner or later.
But the current generation of young men were unable to masturbate and if they
ever did get into some girl's pants, which wasn't really all that difficult,
they couldn't do anything when they got there. The sex drive burnt on, with no
hope of release. Instead of the promise of infinite pleasure if only you can
get it, it was a mocking torment of hell, right here and now.
Maybe I was lucky after all. Lucy's infidelity had dampened my ardour for her.
I don't think our sex life would have picked up again even if it could have.
And now at twenty-eight, my libido was not what it had been ten years earlier.
I could cope. Or I thought I could. One evening I snarled at her, calling her
a 'bloody Typhoid Mary.' It was a disgusting loss of control. She handled it
well. The women's magazines had run lots of features on how to handle your
impotent husband and Lucy had read them all. She knew that I was under more
strain than I had admitted to myself.
It takes a real crisis to make society see the truth. Normally we live
comfortably unaffected by the lies and falsehoods of politicians and
preachers. We even adopt our own lies to let us live our daily lives. Aids was
an example. For the first time ever it got people talking openly about sex.
The impotence epidemic got people to admit the true strength of the sex drive
in young men. Tens of thousands had to kill themselves first though.
Now, when it was too late, society acknowledged the need that young men had
for a sexual outlet. There was no hope of a cure. When that nerve was gone it
was gone for life. There was no way of regenerating or repairing it. Instead
the idea came about that the only treatment for the frustration of a man's
sexual lust was to remove the lust. Needless the say, the church leapt at it
and for the first time in centuries the theology of Origen was given credence.
Officialdom supported the idea too. The logic was impeccable: remove the lust
and eliminate the frustration. No surgery required. A simple injection would
do the trick.
Take the injection and you'd be free of that cruel, burning frustration. Take
the injection and live a relaxed happy contented life, free of futile longing.
Some of those lumps on my prick from the injections had gone septic. I had pus
oozing from tender inflamed swellings. The doctor prescribed antibiotics. Lucy
meanwhile had been hinting that perhaps the cure-lust injection would let me
lead a happier life. She'd been keeping her promise to be a good wife. She'd
been tender, loving and supportive and had put up with my ever-worsening
moods. Perhaps she was making the best of a bad job. As a carrier she knew she
could never have sex with any other man without infecting him. Condoms helped
a bit but any guy whose prick still worked was keeping it exclusively for his
wife.
Maybe Lucy had another angle. Women respond to the presence of males. If there
aren't any males around their sex drive largely goes dormant until a male
comes along. My own maleness was keeping Lucy's sex drive awake without being
able to satisfy it. She never admitted it but she too was burning with
unsatisfied desire. Plutonium is relatively harmless compared to oestrogen. It
is so much easier to control. Lucy had lost control once and now that we'd at
last re-established a satisfactory relationship I didn't want to jeopardise
it.
By the time my prick had healed up it was shrivelled and scarred, a scale
model of its former self. I was disgusted with it, with myself and really I
wanted, needed even, to be free of sexual lust. But I still couldn't get
myself to take the step. Subconsciously I decided to let Lucy talk me into it.
"Sweetheart, what do you think of this cure-lust injection for men?"
The question made her nervous. Any woman's natural instinct is to preserve her
man's balls. "Well, those who've had it haven't regretted it. They say it does
solve the problem."
"So what do you think?"
Lucy took a long deep breath, looked me straight in the eyes. "I think it
would be for the best."
Saying those words atoned for her infidelity. I loved her unreservedly again.
To say them had taken courage and honesty.
I took her in my arms and kissed her. "I love you," I told her.
"I love you too, Ben."
I'd like to say that we had one last glorious night of old fashioned sex.
Unfortunately the injection no longer worked and sex was no longer an option.
It was an embarrassing, dismal failure and a consequence of the penis
infection I'd had. The only good thing was that it confirmed our decision for
me to have the cure-lust injection.
There was no great scene to it. Lucy came with me. At the clinic a tough old
nurse who'd done it many times before got me to drop my pants and bend over
the table. She wiped my balls with a smear of alcohol, shoved a needle in and
squeezed the plunger. I could feel it packing my balls with its toxin. It was
the end of the road for me; a lethal injection without the mercy of death. As
she injected the second testicle I had to blink back tears. Lucy pressed her
hand on mine.
I hitched up my pants and Lucy drove us home. I supposed it was all for the
best. Unlike HIV this disease wasn't going to kill me. Heck! As a eunuch I'd
probably even live longer.
End
* * * |
Harry Potter and the Secret of the Golden Unicorn Chapter 19 | GAY, STRAIGHT, WARNING, MINOR | A young British wizard named Harry Potter comes of age in a time of brutal war between rival magical factions vying for power. This novel length story replaces the final book in the Harry Potter series. | This story is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created
and owned by JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made and no
copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 19: The Curse of the Irish
Friday morning was a beautiful day with the early September sun shining down
warmly. The day was even more beautiful because Harry knew that he wasn’t in
trouble, and, as a seventh year student, he could leave the school on
weekends. The evening before Harry had received an owl telling him that Moody
wanted him to come to Grimmauld Place to continue their training sessions. So
once Harry had made all necessary arrangements he could leave the school at
noon to join Moody.
Walking out naked onto the small balcony, Harry transfigured a regular
straight chair into a small but comfortable deck chair for a bit of morning
sunbathing. Even though he was in a tower at the top of a castle, Harry knew
that he couldn’t just lay there exposed and air it out. There were usually a
few early morning risers who went broom riding. Harry had thought about the
problem and the answer was simple. Harry spread out his invisibility cloak and
levitated it. Just like the one-way walls at the Unicorn, Harry’s cloak let
the sunlight and warmth through like it wasn’t there. It just covered the
magical user from observation by others. With the cloak levitated about two
feet above him, Harry had all the protection of the cloak, and all the benefit
of his balcony for a bit of nude sunbathing.
With a touch of his wand Harry transfigured a drinking glass into a pair of
sunglasses before he settled into the deck chair. Stretching out he felt the
twinges of morning wood coming on him, the first inclination of that sort
since his ball squeezing session with the Inquisitor General the afternoon
before. Harry started wondering if he had time to use the cotton gloves before
going down to get breakfast because he found he was quite hungry. Suddenly he
remembered just who the hell he was, and that he didn’t have to make such
decisions.
“Winky, come to master,” Harry said in a low conversational voice. There was
almost immediately a small pop and Winky was at his side.
“Winky obeys her good Master Potter.”
“Winky, I want you to bring me my breakfast, I want a large mug of milk,
chilled; I want two eggs, scrambled. I want two small sausages, two slices of
buttered toast with a bit of strawberry jam on them. That will do.”
Winky returned about 10 seconds later with Harry’s breakfast tray. Reclining
on his deckchair Harry enjoyed his breakfast while Winky watched. It wasn’t
breakfast in bed at the Ritz, but better, because it included a special
service you usually didn’t get from the help in even the finest hotels.
“Winky, Master wants you to blow him,” said Harry as he lay back down, closed
his eyes, and spread his thighs. “Yes, Master,” was all Harry heard. In a few
moments he felt the little hands gently caress his testicles, and then a warm
moist feeling came over his cock as Winky took it completely into her mouth.
Then she began a wonderful rhythmic movement.
With his eyes closed Harry easily found himself imagining that it was Ginny
riding his cock. Under such stimulation, it wasn’t long before Harry reached
the short strokes and ejaculated a full blast of semen into Winky’s mouth.
Harry had to admit that Winky was a pro at this. She kept up her rhythm until
Harry’s seed was completely exhausted, and then she carefully drained the
urethra of its remaining semen. Afterwards, she gently licked the head of
Harry’s cock to take the last vestiges of his seed into herself. Finally, she
produced a warm washrag to clean and dry his shaft.
The only drawback to using Winky for his satisfaction over an actual witch was
that he didn’t get the psychological boost from the act that came from doing
the act with a real female. Still it felt pretty damn good, and it was better
than the cotton gloves. Feeling relaxed, Harry told Winky to lay out his
clothes for the day on the bed, and then to awaken him at precisely 9:30.
Harry had an interesting appointment to keep at 10:00.
A few minutes before ten, Harry stepped out his door into the shared hallway
with the Head Girl’s room and found Pansy Parker standing there.
“Good morning, Chosen One,” she said blandly. “I hope you’re bloody well proud
of yourself. Yaxley’s been expelled from school, and carted off by the
Inquisition at Bartleby’s orders. He’s in a living hell right about now.”
“He put himself there,” replied Harry without an iota of sympathy for Yaxley’s
fate. “Of course, others helped him get there, others who aren’t sharing his
fate.”
“If you are referring to me I had nothing to do with it, not that I expect you
to believe a word I say. But I didn’t put him up to it, and if I had known
what he was about to do I would have stopped him myself.”
“I’m sure you would have rushed right in there to save me.”
“Potter, stupid stunts like a hallway ambush is indicitative of something only
Gryffindors and other types of morons would try. A true Slytherin attack, such
as I would have pulled off, would have been much more subtle, more deeply
physically, mentally, and emotionally hurtful, wouldn’t have failed, and
wouldn’t have been traceable to Slytherin House. I know you don’t like me, and
the feeling is mutual, but at least give me a little credit in the
intelligence department.”
“So it was Crabbe and Goyle who set it up then?”
“I didn’t say that, Potter. I just said they were morons, you know
unimaginative and unintelligent.”
“All right, so it was Crabbe and Goyle,” said Harry who noticed a slight smile
begin to cross Pansy’s face. “Look, can we at least leave off the insults and
innuendos then. That’s what got everything going from the first. There’s too
much tension here now for everyone to start playing fuck-fuck games. Yes, I
over reacted to the level of the threat, but just remember who I’m used to
playing against. I can’t afford to take threats lightly. So let’s just cool it
and finish our last year out.”
“You really are scared of him,” Pansy said with a more serious look in her
eyes. “But if you’re the chosen one then he can’t kill you.”
“It’s been others who called me the chosen one.”
“You’ve escaped from him and his followers more than anyone else ever has, so
maybe you really are the chosen one. Anyway, I agree that blame is shared in
this, and tensions need to cool. We have a truce.”
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Lying contentedly in her bed, Euripita Balzhoff looked over at the figure
beside her. Rolanda Hooch lay there still asleep, her arms around Euripita,
and her head nestled on Euripita’s ample breasts. She had originally figured
that neither of them would be getting much sleep when they first lay down, but
it seems that what Roe had needed the most was rest, and comfort.
It brought back the thoughts of the old days to Euripita. Back then she had
been simply known as Ripa to her schoolmates, and she and Roe had been
inseparable best friends. They were both muggleborn, making them a couple of
worthless mudbloods to the stuck up purebloods they had encountered. They had
no magical family connections, no prestige, and no friends when they came to
Hogwarts. Because they were muggle born they were shunted by the others into
the mudblood carriage of the Hogwarts Express. They had bonded almost
immediately out of desperation. Euripita was a little older, bigger, and
naturally more self-confident than Rolanda; thus she became the leader of the
two, and Rolanda always the follower. When thunderstorms came over it was
Rolanda who would run to Euripita’s bed and beg to sleep beside her. By their
fourth year, Rolanda was sleeping beside her even when the night skies were
clear.
They became a witch’s set, bonded to each other by something that transcended
friendship, or casual love. The two still liked good looking, athletic
wizards, and both had had a number of male paramours over the years who
satisfied their natural feminine lust, but there was still something that each
only got from being with another witch. That need had always been especially
true with each other. Euripita had slept with other women, but none had left
her as fulfilled as Rolanda. Neither fully understood the bond, they just knew
it was there.
After graduation Euripita had found it impossible to shake Rolanda. Euripita
knew that Rolanda had the skill and courage to make something of herself, but
as long as Euripita’s shadow was there, she was willing to stay in it. When
Rolanda had gotten the job with the Inquisition, Euripita knew that she needed
to be her own woman. So Euripita got a job on the continent at Durmstang, she
and Rolanda had spent one final night together making love, and then she left.
Freed from her shadow, and forced to grow on her own, Rolanda’s talents had
blossomed to where she was now she was a powerful senior officer in the
Ministry. Euripita was very proud of her friend’s accomplishments, and had
secretly followed her advance through the ranks. Euripita knew that by
returning to Hogwarts it was inevitable that they would meet again. She
wondered if Rolanda would understand why she did it, or would she hate her for
having left. Feeling a light rustle in the covers Euripita looked down to see
Rolanda’s beautiful blue eyes staring back up at her. There was only love in
those eyes, so even if Rolanda didn’t understand why she had left, at least
she had forgiven her.
“Hey, you,” said Rolanda Hooch. “What’s for breakfast?”
Euripita Balzhoff took two fingers and spread her labia apart to expose her
pink interior. “You get to have breakfast in bed. Served al a carte.”
“Yeech,” said Hooch making a disgusting looking face. “I had that for supper
last night, still got a hair or two in my teeth. Don’t faculty still get
assigned a personal elf around here?”
“Oh, yes, I’ll whistle the little bastard up and get us a couple of trays.
I’ll have him clean your knickers for you too; they’re probably still soggy
from when you got to see me again yesterday.”
“You wish!”
“I know!”
They laughed and settled back into each other’s arms while exchanging kisses,
it was almost like old times.
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Promptly at 10:00, Prefect Crabbe entered Harry’s offices to learn of his
detention. As he stood before Harry he seemed to have regained some of the
demeanor lost the day before on seeing what had happened to the now expelled
Yaxley. Apparently, he had been coached by someone on how to approach Harry.
Probably Pansy’s doing. That was fine with Harry as he had other tools at his
disposal to further discomfort Mr. Crabbe.
“Sir, I should like to make a statement of complaint over this detention,”
Crabbe said.
“You may proceed with your complaint, Prefect Crabbe,” Harry replied.
“Sir, I feel it is very unfair to penalize me in this manner. In reference to
the incident in question, I had just received my appointment to prefect and
had no prior experience in discipline. I was only acting as I felt I should to
restore proper order. I saw a student out of bounds and took action I though
appropriate to deal with the person.”
“So you were only doing as you thought best then?” asked Harry.
“Yes, Sir, and besides you were not wearing your badge at that time and we had
had no prior notice of your position. I had no way of knowing you were Head
Boy.”
“I understood that perfectly well, Prefect Crabbe. If you had spoken to me in
that manner knowing my position, the consequences of such insubordination
would have been far more serious for you than twenty points taken, and a
weekend’s detention, let me fully assure you of that.”
“Yes, Sir, but I only doing as I thought best.”
“I see, well that raises another question though. Tell me, Prefect Crabbe; did
you think you were only doing what was best when you assisted Mr. Malfoy in
letting Death Eaters into the castle to murder Professor Dumbledore?”
Crabbe nearly choked at the accusation. “Sir, I swear I don’t know what you
are talking about. I’ve had nothing to do with that.”
“You are a lying sack of shit, Mr. Crabbe. We knew you three were up to no
good, we took it in turn following you around under invisibility cloaks.
Remember the ‘presence’ that frightened you in the hallway and made you drop
the scales?”
Crabbe went bug-eyed at the recalling of the incident and was sweating heavily
at this point. Harry thought the fat git looked as though he might shit his
pants at any moment. Harry was quite satisfied that he was having the proper
effect on Crabbe and continued.
“You and Mr. Goyle served as lookouts disguised with polyjuice potion at the
entrance to the room of requirement while Malfoy worked on getting the cabinet
fixed. You knew he was working for Voldemort. You knew they wanted to get in
to perform dark magic. That’s more than enough to earn you a one-way trip to
Azkaban; oops sorry my mistake, they’re not taking Death Eaters there anymore
are they. The Minister has set up a special accommodation for you lot, the
Black Room they call it. Oh it’s real Mr. Crabbe, it’s real. The Dementors
still loyal to the Ministry suck out your soul there, they say it hurts like a
motherfucker, they say you’d never want to see it done. You know what I say; I
say I’d make an exception for you and Mr. Goyle.”
“You can’t prove any of that; I’ll swear it’s a lie.”
Harry reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a small glass vial containing a
clear liquid. Holding it up to the light he smiled at Crabbe.
“I can prove all I need to with this. You know what it is? It’s Veritaserum;
it forces you to tell the truth. I’ve found that my newfound skills in potions
really are quite useful now. How’s about I send an owl to my new mate, the
Inquisitor General? She’s quite pleased that I stopped that filthy Slytherin
Death Eater from further harming her beloved little grandchild. I bet she’ll
be just as pleased when I tell her I have found two more Death Eater wanna-
be’s at Hogwarts involved in the fiendish murder of the beloved Professor
Dumbledore. With her expanded emergency powers she can order you and Goyle to
have a spot of tea with her, with a few drops of this in it. You three will
then have a nice little chitchat afterward where you would spill your guts
about everything to the Inquisition. Then it’s off to the Black Room for you
lot, and a hot date with a Dementor that’ll surely end in a good night kiss.”
Crabbe totally lost it now. He began crying and pleading that he had not known
what was happening that it had been all Malfoy’s idea. Harry put the bottle of
water he had taken from his bathtub back in the desk drawer and looked
measuredly at Crabbe.
“Although it goes against my better judgment I’m offering you and Goyle a
second chance. If you want a second chance to square yourselves.”
“Yes, Sir, we’ll do that, whatever you want.”
“All right then, first of all I know you two were behind that bit of nonsense
Yaxley pulled yesterday, and don’t bother to waste my time trying to deny it.”
“But, Sir, I can …, I mean it wasn’t …,” blubbered Crabbe.
“SHUT YOUR FUCKING HOLE!” yelled Harry as he jumped to his feet. “I already
said I was giving you two tosspots a second chance didn’t I? Now here’s the
way it goes. I don’t want anymore trouble for me, my friends, or Hogwarts. You
and your lot stays out of our way, you mind your own business. Any hint of
trouble out of any of you Slytherin bastards, and you and Mr. Goyle will finds
your arses in the cart headed for the Black Room. If you think what I’ve done
to you lot this week was retaliation, then you haven’t seen anything yet. Fuck
with me again and see what happens. Got that, Prefect Crabbe?”
“Y… yes, yes, Sir, is that all.”
“No, it’s not, there’s still the matter of your detention for the weekend. I
want you to know I thought hard on this one. The owlery has not been cleaned
since the first of June. There’s a lot of owl shit piled up in there. I think
a suitable task would be for you to clean it out for us, no wands though; you
can clean it using only a spoon and a toothbrush. You should have plenty of
time to contemplate just how quickly your own existence can be just as shitty
as that owlery.”
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
At 10:30, Harry met in the Great Hall with those who had been given detention
for taunting him with the gloves. In glowing detail Harry explained to them
the nature of their mission. Remove the troll shit by picking it up and
placing it in carts, then push and/or drag the carts into the edge of
Forbidden Forest and dump it there in Professor Sprout’s compost pile. No
wands were allowed, only gloves. They were to report first thing Saturday
morning, work all day except for meal times, when curfew approached they could
return to their common rooms for sleep, and repeat the next day. Dobby was
assigned to watch over the punishment and ensure that no magic was used.
Harry made it clear that if anyone was caught using magic in any way the whole
group would spend the next weekend hauling the troll shit back into the
basement, so they could spend the following weekend hauling it back out again
the way they were suppose to have done at first. The looks on their faces was
precious. The younger detentionees were in a state of shock, the older
students were livid. Harry saw a couple who acted like they wanted to curse
him, but they had either seen what happened to Yaxley, or heard about it. They
weren’t about to go up against him here and now.
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
After dealing with the detentions, Harry decided he needed to do a quick bit
of research before leaving for the weekend. Ginny and Hermione had both
referred to the Curse of the Irish affecting the size of men’s dicks. Harry
hadn’t a clue what the curse was about, but he figured it must be somewhere in
a library book. Hermione probably read it and then told Ginny about it. So
Harry needed to hit the books too. As Head Boy he had a small private library
of the common magical texts, a quick index perusal of which showed no mention
of an Irish Curse in any of them. That meant a trip to the restricted section
of the library was in order.
The restricted section was open only to seventh years and those students who
had passes from teachers to use the books there. It was here that texts
related to adult spells and dark magic were kept. Harry was legally permitted
to browse the titles here, but he chose to use the cloak anyway. It just kept
down embarrassing questions from Madam Pince and rumors if no one saw him
there. Picking up several texts related to the history of curses Harry put
them under his cloak and moved to the prefect’s private study areas.
Examination of the Marauder’s map showed it to be empty at the time. Upon
entering the study area Harry did what Hermione should have done the other
night if she had known how to, he put a whistling silent sentry spell on the
door. If anyone opened the door it gave off a whistle that only Harry could
hear to alert him to expect company, or go undercover. It was a standard Auror
spell that Moody had taught him.
Looking through the book’s index, Harry soon found what he was looking for in
a tome entitled Famous Curses of the Ages. In the book it told of an ancient
Britannic king named Klingsor who had hired a number of mercenaries from
Ireland to help him fight his neighboring kingdom. As his enemies began to
take the day, Klingsor saw his Irish mercenaries begin to run away, ensuring
his defeat. Wounded and dying in the battle, Klingsor in a fit of rage cursed
the Irish saying that they were not men, and that their future sons would be
born half a man and ‘sell themselves short’ in a woman. The result was that
the male descendents of these men had short dicks and ejaculated prematurely
during sex. The book described the effects of the curse as having amplified
over time as the male only needed to have had one ancestor among the cursed to
potentially be affected. Interbreeding with Magi had introduced wizards into
the ranks of the cursed.
Harry now understood the cause of his problem, but not how to solve it. The
book gave the only means of reversing the effects of the curse as Priapus
Potion. However, the book gave no details of the making of the fabled potion,
instead saying that it was not known to truly exist and might only be legend,
or lost magic, from the olden times. The article did state that the legend of
the Priapus Potion held that it could only be made by magical creatures who
possessed intense sexual energy and could turn that energy into magic. The
final comment was that all traditional accounts of the potion stated that it
also required intimate contact with such a creature to activate the potion.
If Harry was to overcome the curse then he had to find someone who could
control sexual energy, and he thought he knew where to start looking. Several
odd things had happened that he hadn’t been able to explain had started to
form a pattern in his mind. There was a way to test the theory that was
forming in his mind, but it would require a bit of preparation before leaving
Hogwarts. “Winky, come to Master.”
A little before noon Harry ran into Ron as they were making their way to the
front gate. Ron was still trying to defrost tensions between them, and asked
Harry if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him that weekend. Harry was willing
to return to good terms with Ron again, but told him that he already had other
plans, and had begged off claiming he had work to do at Grimmauld House. He
did have to meet Moody there for continued training, but Grimmauld place was
going to be Harry’s cover story.
Thanks to Madam Hooch’s efforts and Winky’s ministrations, Harry’s masculine
organs had nearly ceased to be discolored and painful. They appeared to be in
normal operating order for light duty usage. Harry knew that a number of
Hogwarts seniors had already sent owls to Hogsmeade and rented a room at the
Three broomsticks, and would then wait for their underclass girlfriends to
show up on Saturday afternoon.
Under normal circumstances Harry would have done so too and then waited for
Ginny to show up. However, the letter from Ginny’s mom had shot that idea in
the arse. Ginny couldn’t leave the school grounds except to travel straight
home by the floo network.
Harry dearly wanted to be with Ginny, but it was a damned difficult thing to
do in privacy. There were secret passages out of Hogwarts and into Hogsmeade,
but there were too many prying eyes inside Hogwarts and Hogsmeade who would
love to make trouble if the two of them were seen alone. A single owl message
home from a student about Harry and Ginny could easily be passed to Mrs.
Weasley. The last thing he wanted was for Ginny’s mum to find out they were
still a couple and pull her out of Hogwarts altogether. Besides that, there
was still the danger of Voldemort attacking him through her. Harry knew that
he needed a place that was out of the view of snooping eyes of students or
Death Eaters. That pretty much ruled out Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.
It had taken Harry a little while to come to grips with the idea, but damn it
he owned his own personal knocking shop. Not only could he make use of the
finest fornicating facilities in the land dedicated to total sexual fantasy
fulfillment, but he could do so for free. Hell, he owned a high security
penthouse apartment in the place; he was safer there than he was at Hogwarts.
If he couldn’t have the real Ginny this weekend in the tower, then he’d go
where he could have anything else he wanted, the way he wanted, and as often
as he wanted. After all Ginny seemed to like the idea that Harry was now
experienced as a lover, and had forgiven him his past indiscretions with
Tonks, and, unknowingly, with Fleur — and the elf.
There was the inconvenience that his absence would be noticed by friends and
potentially by enemies. That was why he told Ron he was going to go to the
Grimmauld house for the weekend to recover in peace, plus get in some training
with Moody. This satisfied Ron’s curiosity, who presumably would pass the
message on to Ginny and Hermione.
As a seventh year he was allowed to leave the grounds after noon on Friday,
but must be back by 8:00 Monday morning. With his newly acquired skills in
apparition, Harry could reduce travel time to only a few seconds each way, so
effectively he had 68 hours to enjoy his freedom. Harry duly informed
Professor McGonagall that he would be gone over the weekend to train with
Moody and rest.
By 11:55, Harry had completed all his work and packed a small valise with a
few belongings. He intended to buy a separate wardrobe for use at the Unicorn,
and another set for Grimmauld Place, so that he didn’t have to carry much
around with him when he traveled. It also reduced the chances of tracing
spells being used if Harry had separate wardrobes. Harry told Hedwig where he
would really be and made for the front gate of Hogwarts so he could apparate.
Getting to the gate Harry was surprised to see Hermione standing there waiting
for the tower clock to ring 12.
“Hermione, are you taking the weekend away too?”
“Yes, I’m … visiting my parents.” she said. “Ron said you were headed for
Grimmauld House.”
“Yeah, I just need to get away on my own a bit. Plus the old place still needs
a lot of work. I’ll need a regular place to live after this year is done,
might as well work on it now.”
Harry and Hermione saw that many of their fellow seventh years were there for
the purpose of enjoying their first weekend excursion from school. Harry knew
that many would be back by nightfall as they really had no place to go, or
money to do anything with. Just apparating to Diagon Alley for a few hours to
walk around and browse the shop windows was a new luxury to them. The thought
of it built in Harry an appreciation of the fact that he definitely had places
to go and things to do, as well as the means to do them with. When the great
tower clock began to chime the hour there was a flurry of pops as students
disapparated. Harry apparated to the Grimmauld House to meet up with Moody,
and found him already in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.
“Looks like all that apparition work we did was worth it,” he said. “You
popped in here like a veteran that time.”
“You were right about it getting easier with practice, I just hate that I
can’t practice more at Hogwarts,” Harry said. “Anyway there is something I
have to tell you about.”
“If it’s about what happened yesterday than I already know all about it,” said
Moody. “Kingsley told me all about it; you are damned lucky to have gotten out
with a whole skin after you nearly killed Yaxley. The great git deserved it,
but we need you to stay out of trouble till you are ready. Now look, I want
you to tell me everything that’s happened this week, don’t skimp on the
details.”
Harry started with the visit by Hooch in Hogsmeade to help heal him.
“Oh, shit!” Moody roared. “Harry, when she was wanking you off she was giving
you a low end MPR. Those visions you said the treatment made you see, that was
her pulling out your memories. She knows about you and Tonks, about me and
Minerva training you. She knows about the Black Wand too. She’s got your balls
under her bootheel and mine too. She can send either one of us to the Black
Room on that information alone.”
It also hit Harry that she would have found out that he owned the Golden
Unicorn as well. “I’m sorry,” said Harry. “I was in so much pain I couldn’t
hardly stand it, and she was sent by Professor McGonagall. I…I trusted her.
She did help heal me.”
“Not your fault, Harry,” said Moody with a resigned tone of voice. “She caught
you in a moment of weakness; the Inquisition is good at that. I should have
known that they would develop an interest in you and seek you out pretty
quick. Now she knows, but hasn’t done anything about it yet. Maybe Minerva
knows something about her we don’t. Like you said, she trusts her. Still, I
wish I could have moved you somewhere only I knew, and then disappeared. ”
“They probably would have found you,” said Harry.
“No I mean disappeared, Harry. Of course I don’t really know how to do it. The
only person I ever knew who could perform the black hole spell was Dumbledore,
and I don’t think he ever taught it to anyone before he died.”
“What was the black hole spell?” asked Harry. “This is the first I’ve ever
heard of it.”
“Black hole was my name for it,” Moody said. “Dumbledore was able to use his
wand to draw a hole in midair. Just a black hole, you step into it and then
pull the hole in after you. Inside it was like a cave that went on forever.
Outside it was like you just disappeared out of time and space altogether.
When we had gone far enough he just drew an opening in the darkness and we
stepped back out into the world and the hole would just collapse behind you.”
“What did he use that for?” asked Harry.
“Well there are two fairly obvious uses, Harry, escape and evasion. If you are
trapped by enemies it’s a pretty good bit of magic to just draw a hole in the
air, jump into it, and pull it closed behind you. You just disappear literally
into thin air as far as they are concerned. If you carry your wand and a few
basic provisions then you can actually live inside the void. Albus told me
last year that when Umbridge and the Ministry were searching high and low for
him across the land he had gathered his belongings and went into the black
hole and just stayed there for a few days at a time. He’d pop out when he
wanted to, allow himself to be seen, and then go back inside. The Ministry
goons were chasing their own tails all over the place.”
“What if someone else comes into the void looking for you?”
“Albus wasn’t sure; apparently he didn’t fully understand how it worked. I
know that he thought that Voldemort might know the secret and was hiding in
there. He made a number of trips in from his office last year looking for him
and found nothing. The reason Albus carried me into the void was never escape
though, it was evasion. Every method of movement can be followed if your
pursuers are skilled enough. All magic leaves a trace, so floo powder,
apparition, port keys, all can be traced. A highly sought skill specialty in
the Auror service is a tracker.
“They follow suspects as they move around. That’s why we used such a
complicated method to move you around from the hospital. Bouncing several
times from place to place helps throw off trackers, as does switching up
methods, like apparate to a mid point, then use a port key. Even muggle tricks
like getting on a bus and moving that way can trip up a tracker as he’s got to
find the spot you left from to begin the next trace.
“But the black hole apparently leaves no trace of its existence for a tracker
to follow. You go in, move to another point in the void, exit back into the
world, and you may be many miles from where you entered. He carried me in
because he felt we were being followed, and that would throw them off. I tried
my best to get him to teach me that trick, but he never would. That was a
special bit of magic he kept to himself.”
Harry knew that the previous year Dumbledore had managed to leave Hogwarts
repeatedly without anyone seeing him go, but he was often seen returning.
Since he couldn’t apparate inside Hogwarts this was how he got out. Harry
figured that at least part of the time he had gone to the Unicorn to settle
business matters, and probably to make personal use of the facilities. Going
back to the basement laboratory, they spent the remainder of the afternoon
working on wand and power control, as well as some physical training to keep
Harry in shape.
“Kingsley said for me to concentrate on helping you control your power flow,
Harry. He feels you over reacted when you zapped Yaxley. Is that true?”
“No, Sir,” said Harry, who then went over exactly what had happened starting
with the fight between the elves and the subsequent actions. The only thing
Harry omitted was the specifics of why the elves were squabbling and that the
elves were bonded to him now. Harry knew that Moody often talked with
Professor McGonagall, and he didn’t want her to know of it as students were
not allowed to have their personal house elves at school.
“I had perfect control at all times. I hit Yaxley just as I wanted to, and as
hard as I wanted to. I fully intended to hurt him. The only thing I didn’t
think of was what might happen to bystanders if we went at it there. That was
my mistake.”
“Well you definitely sent a message,” said Moody, as he seemed to look at
Harry in a different way now. “You need to remember that sometimes though
there is a return reply to those kinds of messages. Maybe you should back off
a bit.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“Go back to Hogwarts tomorrow just before the mid-day meal and let those on
detention punishment off the hook. You’ve made your point, no need to grind
your heel into them. Most now understand who the Head Boy is and won’t
challenge your authority again. Those who are opposed to you won’t be changed
by the punishment, but they will be viewed as troublemakers by the others now.
If they do try anything else then come down hard the second time.”
Moody had to leave early to meet with Shacklebolt. He had hoped that Harry
would stay in Grimmauld House where he was relatively safe, but Harry let it
be known he had plans on going out.
“I hope you’re not planning to go out hunting trouble,” said Moody.
“Especially around Godric’s Hollow. You need to rest.”
“I’m not planning on hunting trouble,” said a grinning Harry. “I’ve been
cooped up in Hogwarts, or the Three Broomsticks, or St. Mungo’s for almost two
weeks now, I’m tired of resting.”
Moody laughed brusquely, “Are you sure you have a safe place to go?”
“Oh yes, and I’ll go by Hogwarts tomorrow like you said. Are we training
tomorrow?”
“Hell yes, you need all the help you can get while there is time. I’ll be here
mid-afternoon tomorrow, and Sunday morning. We’ll work on shield spells some
more. Things wouldn’t have gotten so hectic if you had simply blocked Yaxley’s
spell, or maybe better yet, rebounded it upon him.”
“I could have bounced his Cruciatus spell back on him?” asked Harry. “That’s
wicked! I wish I had known how to do that yesterday morning.”
“Well you will by Monday,” said Moody. “For now I have to go, look Harry, I
can’t stop you from going out, but promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Of course,” said Harry. “Just like always.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of…” came Moody’s muttered reply as he was leaving.
* * * |
Milking the Slave - Part 2 | Male slavery | Roger uses a new technique to milk his handsome young slave. | ` Roger led me down to the basement for the second time this week, where his
slave Tim was lying face up, hands and legs outstretched and bound to the four
corners of the table.
A pillow raised Tim’s ass, allowing easy access to the 20-year-old boy’s anus.
Tim was moaning and breathing hard, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out why
– a plastic bag filled with ice was wrapped around his balls and the base of
his penis.
“I’ve been having some trouble with Tim lately,” Roger said. “He’s been
getting erections during the milking process, and this is the only way to
control them.”
Roger explained that the ice would numb the blood vessels in his penis, making
an erection impossible. But it wouldn’t prevent the milking process from
taking place.
Slipping on the rubber glove, Roger began probing Tim’s anus with a lubricated
finger. It didn’t take long for the sphincter muscle to relax, allowing Roger
to enter Tim’s rectum and start the prostate massage.
Unlike the last time I witnessed the milking, Tim’s penis remained soft and
small due to the ice packed around his genitals. But despite that, a small
bead of pre-cum soon appeared on the tip of his cock as Roger patiently rubbed
the prostate.
Roger was an expert at milking Tim. Every few minutes, he ran a finger along
the urethra on the underside of Tim’s soft, causing more pre-cum to ooze from
the tip. Tim’s chest continued to rise and fall as he focused on the intense
cold that had numbed his delicate organs.
I watched, fascinated, as Roger’s gentle touch milked his slave. Then, with
absolutely no reaction from Tim, a blob of white semen trickled from the tip
of Tim’s cock and dribbled onto his flat, hairless stomach. Roger smiled and
ran his finger along his slave’s cock, causing more cum to emerge and spill
onto Tim’s stomach.
Tim’s anus was in spasm, tightening around Roger’s gloved finger as his
prostate released more of its milky contents. I marveled as the completely
limp cock continued to spill semen from its tip.
About 10 minutes had passed since Tim’s semen had first appeared, and a
sizable puddle of cum had now formed on Tim’s stomach, some of it filling up
his belly button. The ice kept his balls and cock completely numbed. The slave
was feeling no pleasure from the milking process.
Roger pulled his gloved finger from Tim’s rectum, and stripped off the glove.
He unwrapped the bag of ice and tossed it into the trash. Roger dipped two
fingers into the pool of Tim’s cum and held it against his slave’s lips. Tim’s
tongue emerged and licked his master’s finger’s clean. It took a few minutes
before he had completely cleaned off the semen from Tim’s stomach.
“This worked well, but I think the time may have arrived for a more permanent
solution,” Roger told me. Tim’s eyes widened as he realized the meaning of
Roger’s words.
(To be continued).
* * *
` |
Best to be Loved | TESTICLES | Harvey is the last ungelded man in a world where random breeding is banned | ` Best to be Loved `
by
Kortpeel
There were always tensions on the monthly drive into town. Grandmother wore
her pursed disapproving expression that subdued the normal exuberant spirits
of the three sisters.
The problem was Harvey. He was responsible for grandmother's sour mood. She
disapproved of him and blamed Eugenie, 22 and the eldest of the three, for it.
He was her servant and she was responsible for him.
Normally grandmother ignored Harvey. He didn't exist for her. She'd long ago
banned Harvey from entering the main house. However as the outdoor servant
Harvey was the driver of the horse drawn trap that was taking them into town
and on these occasions grandmother was unable to ignore him.
People always stared at Harvey. An ungelded man was a rare sight in this
neighbourhood. And the fact that Eugenie kept him on a rigorous exercise
programme that maintained his well defined muscles in good shape didn't help
at all. She'd also forbidden Harvey to shave so although he was still only 20
Harvey presented a sight well worth staring at as he drove the little trap
into town.
They passed Mrs. Wilkinson and her daughter, Valery, going in the opposite
direction. Mrs Wilkinson nodded politely to grandmother. Her daughter Valery
just stared open mouthed at Harvey.
Even then it wouldn't have mattered but the two younger sisters, Annabel and
Nerissa, knew exactly what Valery was thinking and giggled. That got them one
of grandmother's looks which silenced them.
It also earned Eugenie a rebuke. "Eugenie, this is all your fault. When will
you grow up? I want you to develop a sense of responsibility."
Eugenie was all wide-eyed innocence. "Grandmother?"
"You know Harvey is an embarrassment to the family. He ought to have been
gelded years ago."
"But grandmother, he's an outdoor servant. He needs his strength for his
work." That was more or less true but it wasn't the real reason that Eugenie
had left Harvey intact.
Grandmother knew that too. "Eugenie, you are still so immature. I think you
enjoy shocking people."
"Harvey's a very good servant, grandmother. Besides, he never comes in to the
house."
"You are perfectly aware of the risks associated with ungelded men, Eugenie.
You know very well that they can become violent. Not to mention the perverse
lusts and desires to which they are prone."
That was a close as grandmother could come to accusing Eugenie of harbouring
perverse desires herself. In a society where sexual thoughts were considered
unhealthy and irredeemably disgusting, to be suppressed at all costs, one
would never accuse a respectable young lady of having such base emotions. To
do so would be unforgivable.
The gelding of males was a routine common-sense procedure that saved males
from those unhealthy desires. Young ladies were expected to have enough
decency and self-control not to need surgical intervention, although it was
not unknown. Harvey was an anomaly.
They'd been climbing a steepish hill. Harvey stopped at the top to rest the
horses. Norman got off and disappeared off into the bushes. Norman who was
Nerissa's servant had been castrated in infancy. He'd been trained as a lady's
companion and was an expert dressmaker. He was well able to make the long
dresses with bustles that were currently the fashion. Those dresses worn over
a suitable corset always made any young woman look her best. This trip they
planned to buy some material to make up into dresses and Norman had come along
because his advice on choice of material was needed.
Norman returned and took his seat in the trap. He had learnt to empty his
bladder at every opportunity ever since his penectomy some years earlier. He
had to pee often or else he would dribble urine.
There'd been no real reason for the penectomy other that Nerissa's naiveté.
She had once seen him pee standing up and not knowing that was how it was done
had been shocked. She promptly called in the woman who did that sort of thing
and had his penis removed. Nerissa actually preferred him without it.
They continued in simmering silence down into the valley to the little town
and pulled up outside the draper's store. Grandmother, the girls and Norman
went inside to choose the material they needed. Harvey waited by the trap with
the horse.
It was quite usual for geldings to go naked. After all, what did they have to
be modest about? Harvey wasn't a gelding, he simply followed custom and
practice. He'd gone naked for all of his twenty years and for the most part
was quite unselfconscious about it. In any case, nudity was more a matter of
status than modesty and bonded servants didn't have much in the way of status.
A little group of young ladies gathered in conversation not far from Harvey.
It was purely by chance of course, certainly no well-bred young woman would
ever admit to sexual desire or even to curiosity in that respect. They just
happened to be there and wanted to talk. As far as they were concerned Harvey
didn't even exist.
Harvey certainly didn't want any trouble. He turned his back to them. That had
the regrettable effect that instead of discrete quick 'accidental' glances at
his front they were able to feast their gaze on his backside. The sight of
Harvey's broad muscular shoulders and his buttocks packing well-exercised
gluteal muscles induced certain thoughts and ideas that were inappropriate for
young ladies to entertain.
It may have been the pheromones they released that had the effect on Harvey.
He was used to being butt naked but, to his dismay, he was getting that
uncontrollable stirring of the groin. He walked around to the other side of
the horse and that helped. Then he stood close to the horse and began grooming
it. It was just something to do that would focus the mind. Unfortunately his
prick brushed against the horse and came to attention.
At that moment one of the young ladies, who happened to like horses, dropped
her handkerchief. As she bent to pick it up she looked at the horse and saw
Harvey's standing prick.
In that hot house world of innocent virgins, few of whom had ever seen
anything sexier than a gelding's pee pee, the sight of an ungelded male's
prick at full hard and the bag underneath containing two actual balls was too
much. She stood up, gasped, pointed in open-mouthed shock at Harvey and then
fainted.
It would have been better for Charlotte if she hadn't pointed. The other girls
all looked where she was pointing and failed to stop her fall to the ground.
Fortunately she happened to land with her head in a splat of fresh horse dung
which saved her from a fractured skull.
To blazes with etiquette and refined behaviour. This was a once in a lifetime
opportunity for those young ladies and not to be missed.
As Eugenie, Annabel and Nerissa assisted grandmother out of the store they
were confronted with a scene. Harvey was attempting to get into the driver's
seat of the trap; the young ladies were preventing him. To do that they had to
have hands on skin contact with Harvey. The consequences were excited screams,
squeals and giggles.
"Ladies!" It was rare for grandmother to raise her voice. Three of the young
ladies promptly walked away. The one who was silly enough not to do so got a
tongue lashing for unladylike conduct from grandmother. The girl who'd fainted
onto the horse dung was still on the ground. "Do get up you stupid creature,"
grandmother told her. You smell like a stable. Go and clean yourself." The
poor girl fled.
"Her corset must have been too tight," Annabel murmured to Nerissa
Nobody said another word during the drive home. They were perfectly aware that
grandmother was furious at what had happened.
As they dismounted at the front door of their house Grandmother spoke.
"Annabel, send Arnold for Alice Jennings. He's to tell her from me that we
need her services."
"Yes grandmother."
Alice Jennings was the medical practitioner for the community. Everyone was in
good health so why did they need her? Perhaps grandmother had had one of her
spasms. From the grimace on her face it was possible. The girls looked at each
other and said nothing.
They all went inside leaving Harvey to deal with the horses and trap.
"Eugenie I want to talk to you in the library."
"Yes grandmother."
In the library grandmother and Eugenie sat. Eugenie said nothing. None of her
thoughts showed on her face.
"Eugenie, how old are you now?"
"Twenty two, grandmother."
"I think it's time you went for impregnation."
"I don't think I'm ready, grandmother."
"What you think doesn't matter, Eugenie." Grandmother's voice was ice. One
didn't contradict her. "You have become increasingly wayward of late. That
ridiculous servant of yours is but one example. You are overdue for
childbirth. The responsibility that a child brings will be good for you."
Years of training came into play. Eugenie stared at the carpet. It had a
floral pattern that she had always liked. "Yes grandmother."
"Very good, Eugenie. I will organise it. Send in some tea, would you please."
Grandmother was gracious when one complied with her wishes.
Dismissed, Eugenie went to her room and reflected.
Grandmother had been talking about impregnation, childbirth and raising
children for as long as Eugenie could remember. According to grandmother
bearing and raising children was the whole point of human existence. Eugenie
had always gone along with grandmother on this but her mental reservation was
'not yet.' She wanted to travel and to see something of the world. She had
never been out of this community. She knew there were other places, other
countries and the little she'd heard of them had fascinated her.
It was an outrageous ambition. Grandmother would have deemed it quite
unladylike. Now it was not to be. One didn't travel with a child. It was the
tradition of the firstborn being the first to become pregnant that was the
problem. Grandmother was a great traditionalist. Annabel and Nerissa would be
only too happy to make the fifty mile journey to the city where the
impregnation centre would insert the synthetic sperm into the womb. The sperm
would be custom-made to complement the recipient's dna so that it produced
optimal progeny. Random breeding was no longer permitted. Grandmother would
love to hear the sound of children about the house once again. It was
Eugenie's own stubborn refusal to oblige that was delaying things.
I am being selfish, she told herself. Perhaps it is time I was impregnated.
Eugenie knew there would always be a sense of unfulfilled ambition in her
life. It was a depressing thought. She felt a sudden need for company and went
to find her sisters.
The house was empty except for Norman who was busy with fabrics and patterns
in the sewing room.
"Where is everyone?" she asked him.
"In the barn, Mistress Eugenie."
How odd! "In the barn?"
"Mistress Jennings is here. For Harvey."
A bolt of adrenaline went through Eugenie's system. Without quite knowing how
she got there she found herself in the barn. Harvey was strapped to the
gelding frame, his testicles hanging outside of his scrotum. Grandmother, the
sisters and Annabel's gelding, Arnold, were watching Alice Jennings as she
prepared to tie off a testicle cord.
"Stop," Eugenie screamed.
Eugenie came forward and spoke to Alice Jennings. "Put them back and stitch
him up."
Alice Jennings looked at grandmother.
The old lady was trembling with rage. "How dare you, Eugenie. Go to your room
this instant. I have never, in all my life, seen such unseemly behaviour."
"I said put them back," Eugenie told Alice Jennings. "Do it!" The last two
words were snapped out.
"Eugenie, do you hear me?"
The two sisters and Arnold were shocked. Nobody had ever defied grandmother
before. Arnold began a discrete withdrawal but Annabel and Nerissa weren't
going to miss this for the world.
Alice Jennings stood back from her task, content to wait until the situation
was resolved.
Eugenie turned to confront grandmother, looking her full in the face, refusing
to look submissively at the ground. It was difficult. She worked to control
the trembling in her body. She didn't want anyone to see how scared she was.
Grandmother's glare was unflinching and merciless. For Eugenie it was a
physical force. She had to take a step backwards, away from it.
"Your conduct is outrageous. You are a disobedient child. I will not tolerate
it and you shall not go unpunished." Despite her anger grandmother's voice was
cold and firm. She obviously meant every word. She was still holding the
horsewhip she'd taken as a precaution in case Harvey had offered any
resistance. She showed it to Eugenie to indicate the form her punishment would
take.
"You've exceeded your authority, grandmother. Harvey is mine. Mother left him
to me. You have absolutely no right to geld him."
Inside Eugenie was surprised at herself. What on earth had possessed her to
take on grandmother like this? Ah well! In for a penny ...
"I will not be punished for looking after my own property." She took the whip
from grandmother's hands. Eugenie added in a soft voice that was meant only
for grandmother but which everyone else heard with diamond clarity "And I'm
not going for impregnation either. I have decided I'm not ready."
Was that a faint smile flickered briefly across grandmother's thin lips? It
couldn't possibly be.
"Very well Eugenie. You may do as you deem fit." Grandmother turned and walked
out of the barn, her head high and her walk as graceful as ever.
Her sisters were looking at Eugenie with a mixture of shock, awe and respect
on their faces.
"Annabel, my darling sister, would you like to go for impregnation? It is
entirely up to you, of course."
"Yes please." Annabel gave a hint of a curtsey as she replied.
"And you my sweet little Nerissa. Would you like to go for impregnation when
Annabel returns?"
"Oh thank you, Eugenie" Nerissa embraced her older sister.
"Arnold, why are you loafing behind those bales of straw?" Eugenie called out.
Arnold emerged looking sheepish.
"Don't you have any work you ought to be doing?"
Such was Arnold's haste to resume duties that he tripped over his feet and
fell headlong. Alice Jennings would later attend to the nasty gash on his
forehead.
Meanwhile Alice was waiting for instruction. Harvey was still strapped to the
frame, testicles dangling loose and there was a steady trickle of blood from
the incisions in his scrotum.
Eugenie's first thought was to tell Alice to put the testicles back. After
all, that was why she had come to the barn. But then again... It occurred to
Eugenie that she had been immature and rebellious to insist on Harvey
remaining intact. She knew her motive had been mainly to shock people. Not
that she ever got that delicious forbidden pleasure from looking at his
masculine form. Certainly not. But perhaps it was time to grow up, to become
respectable. Eugenie ignored the pleading look in Harvey's eyes.
"Please finish what you've started," Eugenie told Alice Jennings. "Harvey,
when you've recovered your first task will be to shave off your beard."
Eugenie turned and strode off. She seemed not to hear Harvey's cries as his
cords were severed.
The late afternoon sun streamed through the library windows creating a warm
pleasant atmosphere. "This is such a lovely room. I love it in here,"
grandmother remarked to Eugenie as they sipped their tea."
"You know," the old lady said, almost to herself. "It is nice to be respected.
It's convenient to be obeyed. But best of all by far is to be loved. I shall
so enjoy being loveable."
A thought crossed Eugenie's mind. Had the old lady planned this all along? The
crafty old...
End
* * * |
A Learning Experience | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY | Lucky Bastard | ` What a lucky bastard, He thought to himself, with his face buried in the
sweet fresh eighteen year old pussy laying there on the bed with him. He was
twenty seven years older than she. To top it off, she was a virgin. How lucky
could an old man get? That pussy tasted so good, and it seemed even better
when he thought about the fact that no cock had been there before. Hell, she
had never even cum. Never even played with her own little box. `
The old man knew she was getting close to her very first orgasm, ever. He also
knew it was going to be a Big One, judging by the way it was building up. He
knew what he was doing to her. His greatest pleasure in life was to kiss, lick
and suck a woman’s pussy to orgasm after orgasm, and in his forty five years
he had learned to do exactly that. Lavishing pleasure on this young girls
almost hairless genital’s. He had worked on her for about twenty minutes,
bringing her so close to release, then backing off just enough to keep her
hanging on the very edge. After the first ten minutes the sweet, innocent,
young girl took the initiative to learn how to suck cock. She slid herself
around to a sixty nine position and was giving her first time a hell of a good
try, taking all of his, somewhat small cock into her tender young mouth and
sucking for all she’s worth.
He could feel his climax starting to rise in his balls and decided to give her
that orgasm that he had been delaying and at the same time explode in her
virgin mouth. He was ready, and knew he could let go at any time. So, he
brought her rite to the edge, again, and pushed her over, and at the same time
let loose his hot jets of cum.
Her moans suddenly turned into a high pitched squeal and she clamped down on
his ridged cumming cock (all of it). He stopped sucking the young girls pussy
immediately and tried to protest but, what he had carefully cultivated, she
would not be denied. She bucked and ground her mound against his mouth and
chin, finishing what he wouldn’t. The more she came, the harder she bore down
with her teeth.
When she finished cumming she realized his penis was still in her mouth,
severed from his body and very much smaller and softer.
In that moment of release, both of their lives were changed forever.......
* * * |
COMPENSATION | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Boy given to doctors son. | COMPENSATION
Bill looked through the door to the bathroom and watched his 13
year old step son Chris towel off after his shower. The boy was as
example of pubescent perfection. Brown haired and brown eyed,
devilishly cute face with a pouting mouth and a rock solid body
covered with golden soft skin, Chris had only the short brown hair
on his head and a half inch by two inch patch of fluff at the base
of a beautiful cut penis. Dangling beneath his four inch soft penis
were two pink hairless balls. However, the crowning glory of this
athletic youngster was his tight firm ass that sat high a top two
golden tanned legs. His ass pointed upward in a perky and proud
position as if to call attention to itself. Many a young girl (as
well as other boys, teen guys and grown men) watched intently this
beckoning ass as it ran up and down a basketball court or rounded
the base paths of a baseball field. This was the ass his step dad
Bill knew well. He had been fucking it for over a year now since
his wife, Chris’s mother, had died of cancer.
They had all lived together in this exclusive high rise apartment
building in the best part of the city ever since Bill had married
Chris’s mother five years ago. Upon the death of his wife, Bill had
explained to Chris that he was too old to find another wife and that
it was Chris’s obligation to fulfill some of the duties of his
deceased mother, including sex. At first Bill taught young Chris
the art of oral sex but about year and half ago he moved on to full
anal intercourse with the his gorgeous step son. Chris seemed to
handle the duties well. It would be over stating it to say he
really got into the sex but he obliged his step dad without much
fuss.
"Don’t forget our new neighbors will be here soon, so let’s get a
move on buddy", Bill called out to Chris.
"Yeah, OK.", Chris yelled back.
The new neighbors were Dr. Phil Acworth, a widower himself, and his
17 year old son Brandon. Bill had recently taken Chris to Dr.
Acworth after discovering a small pea sized object at the bottom of
Chris’s testicle sac. Unfortunately, Bill’s worst fears were
confirmed. Dr. Acworth had diagnosed Chris as having a cancerous
tumor that may or may not react favorably to massive chemotherapy
treatments costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. Being a self
employed tax accountant, Bill had no medical insurance and no desire
to see Chris go through the terrible horrors of chemotherapy that
his mother had gone through. Upon hearing of Bill’s dilemma Dr.
Acworth offered an alternative solution, castration! Dr. Acworth
also had an interesting offer to make. He had been trying for years
to get into the exclusive apartment building where Bill and Chris
were living and, knowing that Bill was on the Board of Directors of
the building, he proposed to waive his surgical fee of $3500 in
return for Bill getting him into a recently vacated apartment next
to his own. Bill was appreciative of the offer but when Dr. Acworth
informed him that there was nothing he could do about the $20,000 in
hospital fees that he would incur, Bill told him he would have to
think about it. The next day Dr. Acworth called Bill at home with a
shocking surprise. He told Bill that upon initially examining
Chris weeks ago in his office he had become suspicious because Bill
had been the one to discover the small bump in Chris’s balls and,
after some coaxing, had been able to get Chris to admit that he and
his step dad were having sex together. He also informed Bill that
he wasn’t calling to cast judgment upon him but rather to make him
another offer. Dr. Acworth explained to Bill that he would be able
to perform Chris’s castration outside of the hospital ( in his new
apartment ) thus avoiding the hospital charges. However there were
a few things to consider. First, Chris’s entire ball sac would have
to be removed via the use of an Elastrator (this method avoids
massive bleeding) and second, Dr. Acworth would be risking his
medical license if he were to be caught. For Dr. Acworth to take
the risk, Bill would have to do more then just get him the vacant
apartment.
Dr. Acworth went on to explain that for years now he had been having
problems with his 17 year old son, Brandon. In the last four years
Brandon had gotten five different girls pregnant and had contracted
numerous sexually transmitted diseases. Dr. Acworth spent thousands
of dollars for the abortions and payoffs to two of the underage
girls parents. It seems Brandon was an uncontrollably horny stud
and fucked girls as often as most teen guys jacked off. His father
had had enough. Through the mail he had ordered a male chastity
device (a flexible wire cage that encased the penis preventing
intercourse) and had forced Brandon to wear it at all times. Only
Dr. Acworth had the key. The device was working but it was also
evident that Brandon had become angrily irritable and extremely
depressed. This led Dr. Acworth to his offer for Bill. In return
for Dr. Acworth’s services, Bill would not only get him the
apartment but he would enter into a four year contract where Dr.
Acworth’s son, Brandon, could avail himself sexually of young Chris.
In return, Dr. Acworth would remove the chastity device from
Brandon so long as Brandon promised only to take out his pleasures
on young Chris until Brandon reached 21 years of age.
Bill considered the deal and quickly accepted the terms. To his way
of thinking it was irrelevant if Chris lost his entire sac or not.
The important thing would be that the cancer would be stopped and as
an additional benefit Dr. Acworth explained that by giving Chris
carefully monitored doses of male hormone pills each week, he would
retain his boyish body indefinitely. No additional body hair or
acne would appear and unlike traditional eunuchs, his ass would stay
boyishly small and tight and his cock would keep only the small
amount of pubic hair it had now. This would also end Chris’s
ejaculations which he had recently began to have. Bill had become a
little irritated because lately while fucking Chris the boy had
started to spill sperm all over Bill’s silk bed sheets. As to
Brandon, Bill had always thought Chris could use an older brother
type figure and as long as Brandon kept to his promise to stay away
from any other sexual activity, Bill saw no harm. Especially since
Bill himself was loosing interest in sex and wouldn’t be utilizing
Chris as much any more. Bill only explained to Chris that Dr.
Acworth would be performing a procedure to cure his illness and that
in return for waiving his fee Bill was getting the Doctor and his
son the apartment next to their own. The Acworth’s would be moving
in today, Saturday, and that Chris also had to do Dr. Acworth’s son
"favors".
As the buzzer rang the apartment door, Chris, now dressed in soft
blue cotton athletic shorts and a yellow t-shirt, unlatched the lock
and opened the door.
"Hi, Dr. Acworth", Chris quietly and nervously said.
"Well good morning Chris, how’s my favorite patient", boomed the
doctor.
Standing back in the living room Bill yelled for Chris to invite the
new neighbors in. Dr. Acworth quickly walked across the floor to
shake hands with his new neighbor and was slowly followed by his 17
year old son Brandon who remained just inside the entrance. This
was first time Bill had ever seen Brandon. He was immediately
impressed with the over 6’ tall 165 pound stunningly handsome
teenager. His head was almost shaven in the style so popular to many
teen guys in 1999 and his eyes were close together and confidently
narrow. His mouth had full lips that were stretched in a permanent
looking smirk that silently stated, "I’m a gorgeous, cute stud and I
know it dude." He wore a Calvin Kline white tank top t-shirt that
accentuated his toned arms and solid chest that narrowed down to a
small waist. Below the waist his athletic legs were covered by
Tommy-jeans that hung perfectly on a "God could only create" teen
guy ass.
"Bill and Chris I’d like you to meet my son Brandon," beamed Dr.
Acworth.
Chris nervously shifted his feet back and forth and shot a quick
glance at the moody teen, "Hi".
Bill came out of his amazed study of the teen and greeted, "Welcome
Brandon".
Brandon only nodded his head at both and looking at his father
asked, "OK Dad, so we’ve met the new neighbors. Can I go now?"
"Hold on, Bill and I have something to discuss with you two boys.
We have arranged a special deal and it involves you Brandon. So
come on into the living room and relax.", said the doctor.
Bill and the doctor sat down on the couch and Brandon reluctantly
sat in a recliner chair while Chris sat on the edge of the coffee
table.
"Now Brandon", his dad started, "You know I’d like to be able to
remove that special thing I’ve had you wearing these last few months
and I’ve think I’ve come up with a good way to do just that."
Brandon’s eyes opened wide and a hot blush came over his face. Did
his new neighbors know about the chastity lock? My god, what had
his father told them. His mouth opened and his jaw dropped.
His father continued, "I’ve discussed it only with Bill here, no one
else. I can’t have you continually getting girls pregnant and
contracting those terrible diseases. But on the other hand, keeping
you from full sexual activity is only going to cause you to go out
of your mind.."
"Christ Dad, what does this have to do with them?", glared Brandon.
"Just settle down now. I’m going to tell you", answered his father.
Bill interrupted, "Maybe it would be better to show him Doc."
The doctor nodded in agreement.
"Chris remember I said you were going to have to do Brandon favors
in order to get the Doctor to cure you for free", Bill asked the
nervous 13 year old youngster.
"Yeah", Chris quietly answered.
"OK let’s have you get those clothes of Chris", said Bill with a
serious tone.
Chris removed his sneakers, his t-shirt, his shorts and boxers,
exposing his glowing golden body to his new neighbors. For a 13
year old boy to be naked in front of anyone is embarrassing enough
but to be naked in front of two strangers, a father and his 17 year
old son is almost unbearable. Brandon shifted nervously in his
chair.
Bill spoke assuredly to Chris, "Good, now turn around so Brandon can
see all of you. That’s it. Stop right there so he can see your
back-side. OK now get down on your knees Chris and prop your elbows
up on the coffee table"
Dr. Acworth broke the tense silence, "Brandon take a good look at
that beautiful little backside. Can you honestly tell me that is
not the best looking boy you ever seen in your life?"
Brandon looked down at the young 13 year old kneeling on the carpet
floor, elbows propped up on the coffee table, arching his ass up in
the air for a good viewing. The boys cheeks were perfectly shaped,
tight and smooth. His legs long and soft skinned and his waist
narrow and flat.
Brandon looked at his father, "What are you saying, you want this to
be my girl?".
"For the next four years, yes. Well, not your girl, but your sexual
outlet", his dad replied.
"And you agree with this?", Brandon asked Bill.
"Both Chris and I agree with it Brandon", Bill answered.
"Holy fuck. Shit!" was all that Brandon could say.
"Do you or do you not think he’s attractive", Dr. Acworth demanded
of Brandon.
Looking intently at the boy Brandon spoke, "God dad I never really
looked at boys. Well a little I guess, but not my age. Younger
yeah, like him. OK fine, yeah he’s good looking enough but….."
"But what?", asked Bill.
"Christ man, to fuck. That’s what. I don’t know if it’s good enough
to fuck", an exasperated Brandon shot back.
Bill tried to reason with him, "Listen Brandon we’re all big boys
here. I’ve heard about you talent and how much you like to fuck.
This is your answer. Chris can’t get pregnant and I assure you
there will be no diseases. Now get over your embarrassment and take
a good look at him."
The studley teen overflowing with hormones paused for a bit and
stared back at the boy. Tentatively he reached down to the boys
small ass and placed a hand on each cheek. The two fathers watched
silently. Slowly Brandon spread open Chris’s cheeks, exposing the
boys tiny dime sized hole. A perfect pink boy cunt. Slightly moist
and surrounded by more hairless golden skin.
"That little hole has some experience with a man’s cock, Brandon",
winked Bill
Brandon looked at Bill and then back at Chris’s boy cunt. "Oh", he
silently thought to himself "I get it, the old step dad has been
fucking this boys ass." Brandon spread the boys legs wide apart and
also noticed the pink balls hanging low from his crotch.
Finally Brandon spoke, "Yeah well, he looks like this now but so did
I four years ago. He’s not going to look like this for long." As
Brandon spoke, Bill and his dad noticed the horny teen uncomfortably
adjusting his groin through his Tommy-Jeans.
Dr. Acworth looked at Bill and reached in his pocket, "I better give
him the key to the cock lock.."
"Well why not let him go for a test ride. After all, we shouldn’t
expect him to make a major commitment like this without first
checking out the equipment", smiled Bill.
Dr. Acworth looked at his 17 year old son who was staring at Chris
and rubbing his own groin, "What do you say Brandon, do you want to
give him a try?"
"What, right here? Now?", asked Brandon.
Brandon hadn’t fucked in 83 days. He knew the count to the exact
day. For the horny 17 year old stud this was an eternity. Sure he
was able to jack off at night after his father let him take off the
cock cage, but it just wasn’t the same.
Brandon stuck his hand out to his father, "You’d better give me the
key dad."
Dr. Acworth handed Brandon the small gold key and the teen placed
it on the coffee table edge. As his father and Bill made small
talk, Brandon took off his sneakers and socks and quickly pulled off
his white tank top t-shirt, exposing a well tanned, hairless torso
with a washboard stomach. The teen stood up and unbuckled his jeans
and with one swoop removed his pants and boxer shorts. The men and
Chris stared intently at the hunky teen. Surrounding the teens cock
was a flexible wire mesh cage that was attached to a chain that
wrapped around Brandon’s narrow waist. Another chain connected to
the mesh cage just where the balls meet the cock and ran underneath
the teens crotch and through his ass cheeks to the back of the waist
chain. Brandon quickly unlocked two small pad locks and removed the
entire device and, with a waive of disgust, threw it onto the
chair. Now the teen stood naked in front of his father and
neighbors. What a site! Deeply tanned over his entire body,
Brandon looked like a thoroughbred horse. Smooth and hard with a
rapidly expanding cock. Brandon had the type of cock that when soft
hung down toward his balls. It was well over 8 inches long with a
mushroom head. Bill and Chris could only stare in amazement. Bill
himself was only about six and half inches in size and quickly
realized why so many girls had been fucking the beautiful teen. Add
a gorgeous ass to the package and Brandon was beyond an Adonis.
Brandon now stood over his young neighbor and absent mindedly
stroked his dick.
"Don’t be shy son, give it a try.", encouraged Bill.
Brandon knelt down by the anxious boy who was himself unconsciously
rubbing his stiff cock.
Bill spoke to his 13 year old step son, "Chris you better moisten up
that pole of his".
Chris spun around and tentatively took Brandon’s huge dick in his
right hand and placed it in his sweet boy mouth and started to
slowly suck the throbbing cock. Brandon had the boy’s head in his
hands and was it pulling back and forth as he thrust his own head
backward and moaned in pleasure.
As Chris sucked the dick of the teen who had not even spoken to him
yet, he realized he had better stretch out his boy hole a little
before the aggressive teen tried to mount him. Chris reached back
around with his left hand to his tight rump and started to finger
his pink anus.
Brandon watched the young boy finger himself while he pumped the
boy’s mouth, "Oh Christ, look at that. He’s fingering his hole".
The men, who were now sitting back smoking cigars watched closely.
"I told you Brandon, he knows what he’s doing. He’s a good boy,
you’ll get along fine", Bill chimed in.
Brandon’s father pointed out that Chris even knew oral sex and he
bet many of the girls Brandon had been with weren’t so willing to
always perform oral sex on him. He also pointed out that Brandon
wouldn’t have to bother with the usual things guys didn’t like to
do such as go shopping with their girl friends, buy them expensive
presents and watch romantic movies with them. Plus, if he ever
wanted to eat out Chris’s boy cunt there wouldn’t be any disgusting
fishy smell down there like there is with some girls.
Chris repeatedly removed his two fingers from his boy cunt and in
between sucking Brandon’s dick, sucked his fingers to coat them with
his spit and inserted them back into his hole to self lube himself
for the impending assault.
Brandon’s embarrassment about fucking in front of his father and a
complete stranger was easily being overridden by his need to fuck.
It was bad enough he was about to fuck in front of them but he knew
when he got to fucking the boy he would be exposing his own asshole
to the two men. Any teenage boy feels uncomfortable and vulnerable
when his butt hole is being exposed like that. But he had to fuck
and he had to fuck now. Brandon removed himself from the boy’s
mouth and swung the boy back to his original position with his
elbows propped up on the coffee table and his back arched to thrust
his tight ass up and open. Grabbing the boy’s waist in his two
strong hands Brandon positioned himself directly behind Chris’s ass
and with one long slow push thrust his now eight and half inch rock
hard cock deep into the tight, hot boy tunnel. Both boy and teen
let out a deep guttural groan. Brandon began to pump the open
tunnel with increasingly faster and deeper thrusts. At times coming
up off his knees, the wild teen slammed hard into the tiny hole
while Chris moaned and the fathers watched in admiring amazement.
Now with his hands on Chris’s shoulders and standing on his tiptoes
with his legs bent at the knees, Brandon fucked the beautiful boy’s
ass hard, exposing his own beautiful asshole to the two men sitting
in their chairs. Even after the hundreds of times he had fucked
girls in his young life Brandon quickly came to realize that he had
never had a fuck as good as this. No girls cunt enwrapped his cock
so tightly and yet at the same time let him pump so deep and so
fast. Brandon looked down at the boys pink hole and pulled his huge
dick two inches completely out of the boy and then pumped it right
back in. It was amazing how the cute boy could keep his boy cunt
open and let Brandon pounded in and out. As for Chris he was
experiencing something all together new. Sure he had been fucked by
his step father’s six and half inch skinny dick but it was nothing
like this. Usually his step dad just entered him slowly and made a
few slow and easy thrusts and shot his cum quickly. This was
different. The wild teen mounted on him now was hitting a place so
deep in his ass that he felt like he was getting jacked off from the
inside. When Brandon pulled all the way out and pumped right back
in it caused incredible feelings in his boy opening. Chris knew he
was going to shoot his own jizz any time now. He hoped no one would
notice because he knew Bill didn’t care for him making a mess with
his boy milk. Brandon continued to fuck the boys ass until he could
no longer hold his built up orgasm. With unbelievably long thrusts,
Brandon shot his teen load deep into the wide open boy. Upon
feeling Brandon’s hot cum fill his small ass Chris in turn let loose
with his own juices spurting out on to the carpet.
It took several minutes for Brandon’s engine to idle down and soon
he was dismounting the boy and sitting back on his heels with a
complete look of satisfaction on his face. Chris’s head lay on the
coffee table and his body slowly heaved with exhausted breaths.
Brandon, upon coming back into reality, looked down between the boys
legs and saw a pool of semen on the carpet floor.
"Holy fuck, he shot his spunk on the floor", observed Brandon. "I
wouldn’t want him doing that on my bed sheets. That’s gross".
"Yes, he has had that problem lately", Bill admitted.
Dr. Acworth quickly told his son, "Don’t worry Brandon, he won’t
have that problem after tomorrow".
"Yeah, how can you be so sure?" asked Brandon
Dr. Acworth explained, "Well young Chris here has a tiny amount of
cancer in the bottom of his ball sac and I’m going to have to remove
his testicles tomorrow. In exchange for waiving my normal surgical
fee and for doing the procedure here in our apartment, both Chris
and his father have agreed to let you use Chris as your sexual
outlet for the next four years and providing you have sex with no
one else I’m going to agree to let you stop wearing the chastity
cage. Our apartment adjoins this one and yours and Chris’s bedroom
adjoin each others. We’ve agreed to cut a doorway between your two
bedrooms so you will have easy access to Chris for the next four
years. Bill here really only needs Chris one day a week, Monday
morning I think you said Bill? The rest of the time he’s totally
yours."
"You mean your going to de-nut the kid? Wow!", an impressed Brandon
remarked.
By now Chris was starting to come back to his senses and comprehend
what was going on.
Coming up off the coffee table he turned on his knees and faced his
step dad, "He’s going to take my balls?", the boy whimpered.
"He has to buddy. There is no other way. It will be fine. The
procedure costs thousands of dollars son and we should just be
thankful we can make this arrangement with Dr. Acworth and his son.
You won’t miss them a bit and you won’t have to worry about
constantly spilling your cum all over the place. Plus, your going
to keep on looking like you do right now. You not going to get all
that ugly body hair and you won’t get nasty acne like your friends."
"But dad, my balls", Chris protested.
Bill put an end to the boys whining, "It’s already been decided.
That’s final. Now go get a towel and clean your sperm off the
floor."
Dr. Acworth turned to his son, "So do we have an agreement?"
Brandon, again casually stroking his teen cock while sitting back on
his heels and studying Chris as he cleaned up his boy spunk on the
carpet quizzed his father, "He’s really going to look like he does
now for the next few years after you remove his balls?"
"Just about. We are going to have him take small amounts of male
hormones so that he stays identical to what he looks like today",
his dad promised.
Bill worried that Brandon still wasn’t convinced, "I know what your
probably thinking Brandon. Your probably thinking that with that
huge dick of yours Chris will become looser and looser each time and
that after a while it won’t be as good for you, right?"
"Yeah", Brandon confirmed while looking at Chris on his hands and
knees cleaning up his boy cum.
"Well go ahead and check. It’s only been about two minutes since
you guys got done, right. Just take your finger and check him out
for yourself", encouraged Bill.
Brandon reached over and attempted to insert his middle finger in
the pink hole and was met with an incredible tightness. He was
impressed at how the boy’s hole had tightened up after such a
powerful fucking.
"Man he did tighten right back up", said Brandon.
Bill continued, "And that’s not all. You can mount him from
different positions. You don’t always have to do him doggy style.
Chris put down that towel and get on your back and show him."
The 13 year old boy obediently lay down on his back and spread open
wide his legs and pulled his feet up by his ears exposing his hole
yet again. Brandon reached over and started to again finger the
boys cunt hole.
"Kewl. Can I watch him be de-nutted?", asked the teen.
Bill smiled, "We’ll take that as a yes and yes you can help out
tomorrow."
Part II
Brandon leaned back against a file cabinet in the spare bedroom of
his new luxury apartment impatiently watching his father prepare for
the operation. Dr. Acworth had in less than 24 hours converted the
large room to a home examining room where he could see patients.
The room looked just about like any other doctors office. All the
normal equipment and lights and an standard examining table. Every
thing was ready now and Dr. Acworth called for Bill to get Chris out
of the hot bath he had been soaking in for hours. Soon Bill and his
athletic step son were entering the room. Chris was totally naked
and very nervous. His balls were hanging lower than ever as a
result of the hot bath he had been soaking in. Dr. Acworth directed
the boy to sit up on the examining table at the very edge so that
his balls were hanging over the edge and to then place his feet up
in the examining stirrups. Chris did as he was told and the doctor
quickly sat on a low stool so that his head came up in between the
boys legs.
"Oh yes, this is very good. The sac is hanging nice and low.
Casually the doctor gave Chris a shot of a mild sedative in his left
ass cheek. Now Chris I want you to just stay seated right there
while I stretch out your ball sac even more", Dr. Acworth
instructed.
The doctor preceded to pull and stretch the pink sac, pulling it
away from the now relaxed boys dick. As he stretched out the sac
he talked to Bill.
"You know I forgot one thing back at the office. I need to insert
something like a dildo up inside his ass to force pressure outward
to constrict the blood vessels.", the doctor explained.
Bill answered that he didn’t have anything like that in his
apartment.
Looking over at his strapping teen son the doctor said he might as
well put him to use if he was going to be there.
"Do you think you can strip down Brandon and get that penis of yours
hard so that we can put it up inside Chris," asked his father.
"No problem", was his quick reply.
The men moved Chris off the table for a moment while Brandon sat
down naked in his place. It only took moments for Brandon to work
up a huge flaming hardon pointed right at the ceiling. In the mean
time Dr. Acworth inserted a tiny amount of lubricant in Chris’s
tight boy hole. Carefully the two men each took a leg and arm of the
13 year old and lifted him up over Brandon’s hard dick and centered
the boys puckering asshole at the very top of Brandon’s cock.
Slowly they let the boy’s own weight force him down on to the
throbbing teen dick. Chris let out a gasp but soon settled all the
way down until he was totally impaled by Brandon’s cock. Seated on
Brandon’s cock with his back to Brandon’s chest, Chris spread open
his legs and placed his feet high up in the stirrups. Brandon
wrapped his left arm around the youngster’s chest and held him
tightly.
"OK dad, he’s not going anywhere. Just make sure you snip the right
set of balls", joked Brandon.
Dr. Acworth smiled at his teen aged son and sat back down in his
stool while Bill looked intently on. Chris was now gently riding an
unnoticeable amount on Brandon’s dick. Unnoticeable to everyone
except himself and Brandon.
"He’s trying to fuck dad," warned Brandon.
"A little bit is all right. I want him to work up to a cum. OK
Chris. I need to jack off your dick so that you can cum one last
time. This will be the last time you have to worry about shooting
your cum, OK Chris", the doctor spoke loudly as the boy was mildly
sedated.
Slowly Chris started to jack off his young penis for one last final
cum as the doctor continued to stretch his ball sac. Now the doctor
grabbed the Elastrator, a device resembling a pair of pliers or a
cable TV wire tool and attached it around the base of the scrotum
where it meets the boys dick. The device has four different
positions and each time the doctor snapped it closer and closer it
tightened a small orange band around the sac skin, all but shutting
off any blood supply to the balls of the excited boy. All three
watched as Chris rocked up and down on Brandon’s shaft while
stroking his boy dick with the expertise of any 13 year old male.
The combination of the cock in his ass, the tightness of his balls
and the stroking of his hand suddenly brought him to a full
explosion of his boy milk straight up toward the ceiling, spaying
young jizz all over his face and chest.
Impressed, the doctor commented to Bill, "I think we got to him
just in time, he really is producing a lot of cum. He probably
would have been another Brandon".
Chris fell back on Brandon’s chest and let out a low slow moan.
Now Dr. Acworth grabbed another Elastrator and fastened it about an
inch lower than the first and tightened it to the fourth position.
This created an inch long tube of skin about the width of a shoe
lace between the tow Elastrator bands. The doctor took his needle
and thread and quickly sewed shut the tube of skin right between the
two bands, finally shutting off all the blood supply to the now
hugely swollen ball sac. Carefully, the doctor inserted a small
needle with a long clear tube attached into the boys swollen balls
and began to siphon out all the blood into a container placed on the
floor. Within a minute a the sac was drained of all blood and was
reduced back to about normal size.
"That’s amazing," remarked the boys step father.
Continuing to work the doctor replied, "Really nothing to it. All
the bloods gone no |
So you had a troubled youth?Twins | TESTICLES | This one is for Zoroaster. | ` The Dodge brothers home from college started a landscape service. They are
twins, but not identical. Great Builds, Not too muscular, but no fat. I
drooled as they worked around the yard bare chested in shorts. `
Cory is drop dead cute in the face. Dan has the more masculine lantern jaw.
They are the oldest of ten children, clean cut, good family.
I offered them some lemonade on the patio. I mentioned to Dan that he had a
bit of a limp. What happend?
He blushed. "Nothing, you don't want to know."
Cory was the one to let the cat out of the bag, as I kept pressing Dan for an
answer.
As you know we both just turned 21. I congratulated them on that.
Legal to drink but you guys don't drink do you?
We come from a large family.
I know your parents should be very proud. Wasn't Allen the valadictorian at
his high school graduation?
Allen our little brother, He's the first one.
Well, you guys are twins you couldn't both be valadictorian of your graduating
class.
Cory blurted, "No, first eunuch."
Come on you guys are just making this up.
Dan the quiet one just pulled his shorts down. There were his strangled balls
in an elastic all dry and shrivelled.
Hey we're outside, lets go in the house. In the kitchen I pulled the drapes.
Do you mind showing me again? I explained that I've had castration fantasies
longer than their father has been alive. Ever since I was 8 on the farm
watching animals done.
What a surprise, they both shucked thier shorts. Here I was in front of two
gorgeous stud eunuchs wearing only sneakers. corys balls had come off but Dans
were still hanging on.
Do you mind if I feel? Their erctions were growning.
Dan said, "You'r the first one to say anything about my walk. Is it that
noticable?
No.
Lets go to the bedroom. Do you mind giving an old man a fantasy? I see that
you still get erections, can you cum?
Want us to hsow you?
Yeah. I shucked my clothes and got into bed between two eunuchs.
I've always dreamed of being castrated between two eunuchs.
What a sight we must have made, No balls, hard balls and floppy old balls, all
jacking off together.
Cory asked for a kleenex as hewas ready to shoot his load.
I told him to just let it go.
Cory came first and Dan and I came together.
I pulled up the blanket and snuggled between two warm gentle youth.
I was in HEAVEN. Gently stroking each others chests and hugging for maybe 20
minutes.
Can you guys do that again?
Yes, we're eunuchs not dead.
I got out of bed and brought my toybox grom the dresser. I have a four and a
six prong elastrator and a bloodless emasculatome (Nut nipper)
Who wants to band me?
Cory was out of bed in a flash.
Do you want the four prong or the sis prong?
He'd never seen a six prong set before so he picked it.
I loaded it cocked it and showed him the trigger.
He knealed in front of me. Pulled my balls through the ring, and pushed the
release lever. The band snapped off the prongs and around my nuts.
Hey that's pretty neat we just usd a four prong.
Back in bed I came first in spite of my retirement age.
After we came Dan wanted to inspect my balls.
Sure go ahead.
Cory said. So you're going to be a eunuch too!
No it's just a fantasy I have. I reached for the wire cutters, slid one side
under the band and snap!! Boy that sting when you cut them off like that.
Dan asked how long I'd been doing this sort of thing? Let's see 68 minus 18.
About 50 years.
What I want to know is why you two healthy young guys went through with it.
Allen was first.
What does that have to do with you?
Well, his good grades, his calm personality, all that stuff we wanted.
How did he loose his nuts?
This guy on his wrestling team lost his first. That's kind of hard to hide.
After a shile they noticed other changes, more concentration, better grades.
Finally some of the other guys decided that's what they wanted.
Allen always the studious one found the elastrator on the internet.
Two guys from the team and Allen got together and elastrated themselves. His
grades improved to 4.0 his full senior year, That's how he claimed to get
valadictorian.
Dan and I have been struggling with grades in college. Good enough grades to
keep our scholarships. But, man it's been afight to keep grades.
We got out of college in time to watch Allen whisz through finals and
graduate. We asked him how? He made us promise not to tell mom and dad. He
regretted not being able to have children.
Allen told us that he'd elastrate us but we had to get sperm frozen first. We
did and on our Birthday he elastrated us.
The Dodge brothers still do my lawns bare chested with hairy legs below thier
shorts. I still watch and so does every girl that goes by. They're so polite,
so handsome.
They tell me that nobody else know their secret.
They are all business when they do my lawn. They'll drink the lemonade but
politely decline when I offer a circle jerk.
Maybee I can find something to put in the lemonade.
* * * |
Ein Riskantes Spiel - German Language | STRAIGHT, WARNING, NULLIFICATION | Dieses ist eine reale Geschichte über eine sadistischen Herrin mit einer riskanten Spielidee: | ` Bei einem Kontaktvermittlung hatte ich eine sadistische Herrin mit extremen
Praktiken gesucht: `
Eines Tages meldete sich eine Frau die sich die ‚Spielerin’ nannte mit
nachfolgender Mail:
(Anfang der Mail)
Ich biete dir ein masochistisches Spiel an, bei dem du das Opfer sein wirst
und das durchaus extreme Folgen haben kann. Traust du dich
Hier sind die Regeln:
Die Spielerin erhält 10 Spezial-Dartpfeile, die anstatt der normalen Spitze
sehr dünne max. 10 mm lange Spitzen haben.
Zielscheibe ist der Körper des Opfers.
Trifft ein Dartpfeil den Körper des Opfers erhält die Spielerin einen Punkt.
Bleibt ein Dartpfeil im Körper länger als 2 Sekunden stecken, gibt es einen
Zusatzpunkt.
Ablauf des Spieles:
1\. Pfeile werfen:
Die Spielerin fesselst die Hände des Opfers auf den Rücken.
Dann legst sie im ein breites Halsband aus Leder zum Schutz der Halsregion an
und eine große Ledermaske für das Gesicht mit geöffneten Augenklappen und eine
Schutzbrille darüber. Das Opfer kann also die Spielerin sehen und darf den
Pfeilen ausweichen.
Das Opfer stellt sich so etwa 3 m von der Spielerin auf und beginnt zur Musik
zu tanzen.
Dann beginnt die Spielerin mit den Pfeilen zu werfen.
Für jeden Pfeil, dessen Spitze die Haut des Opfers ankratzt erhält die
Spielerin mindestens einen Punkt. Bleibt er stecken gibt es einen Zusatzpunkt.
Für jeden Punkt den die Spielerin erwirbt, darf sie dem Opfer eine kleine
Tortur antun.
Das Opfer darf während der gesamten Spielzeit maximal viermal zwischen den
einzelnen Torturen um eine Pause von 15 Min. bitten, dabei jedoch nur einmal
die Toilette besuchen.
Solange jedoch eine Tortur ausgeführt wird, wird diese nicht gewährt und die
Spielerin erhält für jede Bitte um Pause einen Zusatzpunkt.
Verhindert das Opfer die Ausführung einer Tortur in irgendeiner Weise wird es
so gefesselt, das diese ausgeführt werden kann. Die Spielerin erhält in diesem
Falle 5 Zusatzpunkte
Die Behandlungen müssen in jedem Falle vollständig ausgeführt werden.
Während des Spieles hat das Opfer die zu behandelnde Stelle der Spielerin
bestmöglich zu präsentieren.
Es ist dabei normalerweise mit Ausnahme der Arme nicht gefesselt. Jedoch wenn
das Opfer nicht still hält, kann es jederzeit durch die Spielerin in
beliebiger Weise fixiert werden, so dass die Aufgabe ausgeführt werden kann.
Spritzt das Opfer während des Spieles ab gibt dieses jeweils einen
Zusatzpunkt.
Nach jedem erfolgreichem Wurf ist in der nachfolgenden Liste ein Kreuzchen für
jeweils einen Punkt. Zusatzpunkte geben jeweils ein weiteres Kreuz.
O 1. Punkt:
Gewicht 5 kg an Hodensack anbinden und 10 mal vom Stuhl springen. Das Gewicht
darf dabei den Boden nicht berühren. Tut es dieses jedoch erhält die Spielerin
einen Zusatzpunkt
O 2. Punkt:
Hodengewicht entfernen, 50 Schläge auf Po mit Rohrstock, einem Weidenstock
oder ähnlichen versohlen.
O 3. Punkt
Die Spielerin setzt sich auf das Gesicht des Opfers und befriedigt sich selbst
dadurch, dass sie auf seinem Gesicht reitet. Dabei schlägt sie 20 x mit
Kochlöffel auf die Hoden und versucht dabei seinen Schwanz zum Abspritzen zu
bringen. Zeitbegrenzung 30 Min. Wird der Schwanz wärend der ganzen Zeit nicht
steif oder spritzt er ab, erhält die Spielerin einen Zusatzpunkt
O 4. Punkt
Das Opfer steht vor der Spielerin und sie masturbiert seinen Schwanz bis es
einen harten Schwanz hat. Dann schlägt die Spielerin von allen Seiten auf
diesen 25 x mit dem Kochlöffel. Das Opfer darf nicht um eine Pause bitten oder
abspritzen. Tut es dieses jedoch erhält die Spielerin jeweils einen
Zusatzpunkt
O 5. Punkt
Das Opfer erhält einen Einlauf mit einem Gemisch aus Eiswürfeln, Massageöl,
Tabasco und Franzbranntwein. Danach wird der Po mit einem Anal - Plug
verschlossen. Das Opfer darf grundsätzlich frühestens nach 2 Stunden auf die
Toilette. Falls das Opfer es jedoch nicht mehr aushält, darf es auch früher
gehen. Für jede Minute die es jedoch früher geht, erhält es mit einer
Spikeklatsche ( Mit Nadeln gespickt) einen Schlag auf den Po und nach jedem
10. zusätzlich auf die Genitalien.
O 6. Punkt
Das Opfer kniet vor der Spielerin. Die Spielerin füttert das Opfer mit 10
Gummibärchen, die an Angelhacken hängen. Die Spielerin darf jederzeit
anschlagen, d.h die Schnur ruckartig zurückziehen. Hacken, die in Zunge oder
Backen stecken bleiben, zählen als zusätzlicher Punkte und verbleiben dort.
O 7. Punkt
Die Spielerin setzt sich wieder auf das Gesicht des Opfers und befriedigt sich
selbst dadurch, dass sie auf seinem Gesicht reitet. Sie betropft dabei den
Schwanz, die Eichel den Hoden und den ganzen Körper des Opfers mit Bienenwachs
betropfen. Sie spielt dabei auch mit ihrer Hand mit Schwanz und Eiern. Wird
der Schwanz nicht steif oder spritzt er ab, erhält die Spielerin einen
Zusatzpunkt
O 8. Punkt
Das Opfer bekommt die Vorhaut mit med. Faden zugenäht. Danach darf die
Spielerin seinen Schwanz 30 Minuten reiten. Spritzt er ab erhält sie einen
Zusatzpunkt.
O 9. Punkt
Das Opfer bekommt die Vorhaut zusätzlich an den Hodensack angenäht.
O 10. Punkt
Das Opfer zieht jetzt einen enge Ledertanga an, der innen mit Spikes (Nadeln)
besetzt ist. Das Opfer legt sich dann mit weit gespreizten gefesselten Beinen
an die Bettkante auf den Rücken. Die Spielerin tritt im dann so bekleidet 10 x
kräftig in die Eier. Das Opfer darf nicht um eine Pause bitten. Tut es dieses
jedoch erhält die Spielerin einen Zusatzpunkt. Geht das Opfer zu Boden erhält
die Spielerin 2 Punkte, wird es ohnmächtig erhält dir Spielerin 5 Zusatzpunkte
O 11. Punkt
Das Opfer muss sich vollständig ankleiden. Alle Maßnahmen verbleiben jedoch am
Körper.
Das Opfer muss jetzt die Spielerin zum Essen einladen. Den Ort, die Länge des
Aufenthalts und was das Opfer essen muss ( z.B. > scharf, viel trinken)
bestimmt die Spielerin. Nach der Rückkehr zum Spielraum entkleidet sich das
Opfer vollständig, die Arme werden wieder gefesselt.
O 12. Punkt
In und um jede Brustwarzen herum je 10 Nadeln (0,7) stechen. Die Nadelspitzen
bleiben jedoch im Gewebe. Nadeln verbleiben bis zum Ende des Spieles
O 13. Punkt
Der Hodensack ( nicht Hoden) mit 5 Nägeln auf ein kleines Brett nageln. Brett
verbleibt dort bis zum Ende des Spieles
O 14. Punkt
In das Loch für den Harnleiter in der Eichel mit einer Spritze 100 ml eines
Gemischs aus Massageöl, Tabasco und Franzbranntwein einfüllen.
O 15. Punkt
Das Opfer wird mit Händen und Füßen an ein Andreaskreuz genagelt. ( verbleibt
bis zum Spielende ) Dabei berühren die Handrücken und die Fußsohlen das Holz.
Die Zehen berühren gerade noch den Boden, so dass sie ein Teil des Gewichtes
abfangen können. Zwischen jedem Mittelhand/Mittelfußknochen ( insgesammt also
8 )wird ein Nagel mit großem Kopf verwendet.
O 16. Punkt
Zugleich wird eine brennende Zigarette bis zum farblichen Rand des Filter in
die Harnröhre gesteckt. Der braune Filterteil darf nicht mehr zu sehen sein.
Die Zigarette muss von alleine verlöschen. Gelingt es der Spielerin nach dem
Erlöschen der Zigarette innerhalb der 60 Minuten ihn zum Abspritzen zu
bringen, darf sie auf seine Schwanz, Hodensack oder Po je eine Zigarette
ausdrücken. Selbstverständlich gibt das Abspritzen einen Zusatzpunkt. Falls er
nicht abspritzt erhält die Spielerin 5 Zusatzpunkte
O 17. Punkt
Eine kleine Geburtstagskerze zu 50% in die Harnröhre gesteckt, mit einer Nadel
fixiert und angezündet. Sobald das Opfer durch Selbstbefriedigung abspritzt
wird diese gelöscht. Erlischt die Kerze in der Harnröhre nicht erst beim
Abspritzen darf die Spielerin einen glühenden Draht der in der Form ihrer
Initialen gebogen ist, auf der Haut des Opfers im Bereich der durch eine
Badehose verdeckt ist mit Schriftgröße 20 mm einbrennen.
O 18. Punkt
5 Nadel ( 0,7 mm Durchmesser ) quer durch die Eichel und Schwanz stechen.
o 19. Punkt
Die Hoden mit 4 Nägeln großen Nägeln auf das kleine Brett nageln bis die
Nagelköpfe die Haut gerade berühren. Verbleibt bis zum Ende des Spiels
o 20. Punkt
Die Brustwarzen werden mit einem Skalpell abgeschnitten
o 21. Punkt
Der Schwanz wird mit einem Skalpell bis zur Harnröhre auf ganzer Länge
aufgeschlitzt.
o 23. Punkt
Der Hodensack wird in der Mitte aufgeschlizt
o 24. Punkt
Die Nägel in den Hoden werden ganz langsam mit einer Schraubzwinge ganz ins
Holz getrieben, so dass die Hoden zerquetscht werden
o 25. Punkt
Hoden und Schwanz werden vom Körper abgetrennt. Alle Nadeln, Nägel, Brett
werden entfernt. Die Überreste des Schwanzes und er Hoden werden in einer
Pfanne vor den Augen des Opfers gebraten und durch die Spielerin gegessen.
o Mehr als 25 Punkte
Je Punkt verbleibt das Opfer noch 12 Stunden an das Andreaskreuz genagelt.
( Ende der Mail )
Mich reizte es sehr dieses Spiel mit zu machen. Ich war mir sicher, daß ich
den Pfeilen ausweichen kann....
(Fortsetzung folgt)
* * * |
Gym Nullo | **[eunuch.org/_private/stories_ahdr.htm]**
## Gym Nullo
**Date:** 15 Oct 1997
**Time:** 00:20:31
**Remote Name:** 204.30.69.135
**Remote User:**
### description
What does it *really* take to prove you are a man? (nullification)
### Comments
Jack was a strange bastard. He lived at the gym, always working out, always
pumping iron. His muscles ripped to perfection. He had an awesome body and put
it on display whenever he could. Part-time model, part-time escort, full-time
stud. He dressed to perfection too. Always in form fitting lycra or form
flattering sweats, his muscled legs packed into thick white socks and tight
nikes. He was wound a little tight in the head and tended to snap easily. Last
year we thought he had snapped for good. He was convinced he was the hottest,
most masculine man in the entire state and was looking for a way to prove it.
He challenged everyone in the gym to various lifting contests. He fucked as
many men as he could. He entered a few amateur bodybuilding contests. Nothing
gave him satisfaction. One day he challenged me to another lift-off. I had
enough, grabbed my crotch and told him I was more of a man than he could ever
dream of being because I had it where it counts. He was appalled and said
"that's nothing, I would still be the hottest man around even if I didn't have
a dick." He was convinced that genitals did not make the man, that most males
were not necessarily "men" but were really wimps with dicks.
A month later he came into the gym, did his workout as usual, and started
getting together another lifting contest. He won, naturally - the guy is
fucking huge. After we all admitted he was the most powerful, the most
masculine, he did something truly amazing. He grabbed his shorts and jock and
yanked down. The eight other men and I gasped. His crotch was completely
empty. His tan, muscular body was entirely smooth in the crotch. No cock, no
sac, no balls, no hair, no tan line. I could barely make out a scar. It looked
like he was born that way. He said "I don't need something dangling between my
legs to prove I'm a man, I'm the hottest stud in this room." The contradiction
in terms was startling, and we started to laugh. He didn't get it. He made
each of us rub his crotch to show it wasn't a trick. Several of the guys
whipped out their dicks and started masturbating in front of Jack. He stood
there proud as could be, trying to convince us that this was the way to go.
"Cut off your dick and balls, they don't prove your a man, just do it. One
nice clean cut and its all over. It's the greatest feeling in the world. Free
and clean." He was ecstatic and happy he could now concentrate on his building
up his thigh muscles without snagging his genitals when he pumped or walked.
Well, Jack is still convinced he did the right thing. So far he has only
convinced two of the others to join his little club. They all think they're
the most masculine men in the gym. They voluntarily gave up their dicks. They
voluntarily had their nuts removed. They are the biggest, most beautiful men
around, you just can't prove they're men by looking in their shorts. So that's
Jack's story. One of the best looking guys in our gym is a nullo. All that
chiseled muscle and nothing to back it up. No handle to hold, no balls to
cradle. And he still attracts other guys like a magnet. Maybe I should make an
appointment with the knife.
**[eunuch.org/_private/stories_aftr.htm]** |
||
The Ultimate Orgasm | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES, snuff | A misanthropic girl gives men their ultimate (most intense and terminal) orgasms. | All persons, places, and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Eve stood beside Rte 36, watching for a car coming her way. Not just any car,
of course; the driver must be a stud looking for sex. She was wearing a mini-
skirt, a tight T-shirt, and sandals, a provocative outfit to say the least.
Had she been wearing a bra, it would have been a 38-C.
She heard the car before she saw it. Of course, light travels faster than
sound, but the car was behind a hill. The sound was the deep-throated growl of
a powerful sports car. Over the hill appeared a Lamborghini doing about 80. It
was still too far away for her to see the driver clearly, but he seemed to be
bare-chested. Before the Lamborghini slowed visibly, Eve could hear the pitch
of the exhaust roar drop.
She could soon see that the driver was not merely bare-chested; he was a hunk.
As the Lamborghini pulled to a stop beside her, Eve recognized the driver. She
had seen him in the newspapers, in "People" magazine, on the TV news, etc. He
was Nelson D. Stoneyfellow III, multimillion-heir playboy. As he opened the
door to let her in, Eve could see that he was wearing nothing but a pair of
very brief blue-jean cutoffs and loafers. She was sure that he was wearing no
more underwear than she was, namely none.
"How far do you want to go ?" he asked. "All the way" replied Eve. Nelson
grinned. "That's what I like in a girl, candor. By the way, I'm Nelson." Eve
nodded. "D. Stoneyfellow III" she added. "I'm Eve." Nelson nodded. "I guess
you know all about me that the tabloids want to tell you, then. On the other
hand, I don't know anything about you. "
Eve paused for a second and then said, "Well, I'm not famous or notorious, but
people who know me well tell me that I give the best head of anyone they've
ever met. In fact, if I'm noted for anything, it's for giving a man the
ultimate orgasm. Nobody who's experienced it has ever denied that."
If Eve had needed any proof that Nelson was wearing nothing under his cutoffs,
it was there to see. The glans of a long thick penis poked out of the left leg
of the cutoffs. "Well," said Nelson, "I'm not sure if I'm ready for the
ultimate orgasm. It seems to me that it'd spoil me for future sex to have the
best so soon." Eve made no comment. "However, if you're interested in proving
your claim, there's an abandoned farm road parallel to the highway behind some
trees a few miles ahead which ought to provide enough privacy and seclusion."
Eve knew the place but was rather surprised that Nelson Stoneyfellow did.
"One of my cousins owned a farm near here and I visited him one summer."
Nelson explained. Soon, he saw where the farm road met the highway obliquely,
braked, and pulled off into it. After about 100 yards, the Lamborghini was out
of sight from the highway. Eve got out and Nelson slid across the seat and
followed her, fully four inches of his whang sticking out of the left leg of
his cutoffs. He slipped them off, folded them neatly and laid them on the
ground.
The male equipment which he exposed was very impressive. Freed of the
confinement of his cutoffs, his erect penis jutted up eight inches long by
1˝inches thick at a 45ş angle to his flat muscular belly. Below it hung, very
low, a heavy pair of testicles as large as limes, Eve's targets.
Eve squatted before Nelson and , taking his testicles in both hands began to
fondle them and roll them between her fingers as she just touched the very tip
of her tongue to the very tip of his circumcised penis, tickling it. It began
to lube copiously. Eve flicked her tongue back and forth under the corona of
the glans very lightly, titillatingly. Nelson was already beginning to tremble
with lust. Heavy breathing made his hairy muscular chest heave, and he hadn't
even begun to penetrate her mouth.
Eve swirled her tongue about the corona of his glans, preparing to take it
into her mouth. She rose, bending from the waist with her head thrown back so
that she could deep-throat the shaft at the right time. Wrapping her lips over
her teeth, Eve took the entire length of Nelson's long thick penis into her
mouth and down her throat. Nelson gasped. "God ! You do give great head." By
this time, Nelson was oblivious to the fact that Eve had a firm grip on both
of his testicles.
Eve began moving her head back and forth, slowly at first, sucking lightly,
gradually increasing the length and speed of the movement of her head.
Nelson's knees began to tremble. His testicles were beginning to squirm in her
grip. Nelson was panting hard. Suddenly he cried out "I'm coming !" Eve sucked
as hard as she could. The first spurt, as she knew from experience, would not
be the strongest one. That would be the second or third, at the peak of his
orgasm. Eve sucked it out and swallowed it almost impatiently.
The way the second spurt bursted from the meatus of his penis and the cry of
ecstasy which he gave told her that he was now at the peak of his orgasm.
Before it had time to pass, Eve squeezed Nelson's testicles as fast and as
hard as she possibly could. As Nelson's cry of ecstasy turned into a scream,
it was suddenly shut off, as if switched off. Nelson gave a convulsive shudder
and collapsed. The great flow of semen stopped as if a valve had been closed.
Nelson crumpled to the ground beside her.
Eve took her lips off his still rigid erection and took his wrist in her hand.
She could detect no pulse. His chest, heaving like a bellows seconds before,
was still. There was no pulse in the carotid arteries in his neck. Eve placed
her head on the left side of his chest. There was silence. Nelson D.
Stoneyfellow III was dead, lying beside his Lamborghini with an erection.
Eve went over to his cutoffs and removed his wallet from the left rear pocket.
There were eight $100 bills in it. She removed six and put them into the
pocket of her mini-skirt, replaced the wallet in his cutoffs and neatly folded
them, replacing them as he had left them.
By this time, Eve was very excited. She reached up under her mini-skirt,
touched her clitoris, stroked it, and masturbated to a series of wonderfully
satisfying orgasms. Now that the adventure was over, it was time to go home.
Eve deliberately walked up the farm road away from town for a mile or so
before slipping out to the road, and, after peering out from between some
bushes to be sure that no cars were visible, darted across the road and put
her thumb out.
She wasn't looking for a stud this time, just transportation. It came in the
form of an old rattle-trap of a Ford F-150 pickup truck with a driver old
enough to be Eve's grandfather. As Eve climbed in, he asked, "Goin' t' taown
?". Eve nodded. "So'm I."
After a few moments of silence the old man spoke again. "Hope y'won't take
this wrong, but 'tain't safe for a young wummin like you t'hitch rides,
'specially dressed the way you ah. Men're ruled by theah passions and dressed
as you ah, you'd excite th'instincts o' any young fella. In fact, if I was
thutty yeahs younga, you'd'n't even be safe with me. I ain't got nuth'n ta
control n'more. It's all used up and wore out. "
Eve laughed and said, "If you'd looked dangerous, I wouldn't have put my thumb
out. " The oldster shook his head. "Suppose they was two men in the cah. They
could stop beside you and one of them grab you and pull you inta the cah. It's
happened many a time." Eve nodded but added. "I know a few martial arts moves
they might not expect." "Mebbe so, but two agin one ain't good awdds." Eve
smiled and said "Don't worry about me; I'll be careful. Right up ahead is my
street."
The old man stopped the truck where she indicated and Eve alighted and waved
to him as he drove off. She thought "If he knew who he'd given a ride, his
blood would run cold."
Once in her room, Eve wrote today's adventure down in her diary while it was
fresh in her mind, masturbating with her left hand as she wrote. Then she
leafed thru the diary back a couple of weeks to her last adventure, when on
vacation in upper New York state. She replaced the c-cells in her vibrator,
removed her mini-skirt, and lay on the bed on her back, holding the vibrator
in her right hand and the diary in the left, to read about the time she gave
Brutebones, the biker, his ultimate orgasm.
"July 22. Hitchiked on Rte 16-W around 10:00 AM. Light traffic. Nothing seemed
promising until I heard the sound of a motorcycle coming from behind me. I
turned and saw a Harley hog driven by a brutish-looking man in black leathers,
bare-chested under the jacket, heavily bearded , and wearing a black head-
cloth. He looked like the kind of macho pig the world could do without.
I leaned back with my left hand on my hip, leaning backward slightly so as to
thrust my boobs up and put out my thumb. He roared to a stop beside me and
asked 'Goin far, baybeh ?' I gave him "the look" and answered, as usual, 'All
the way.' His only reply was 'Git on.' I climbed onto the hog behind him,
putting my left arm around his waist and letting my right hand drop into his
crotch. Either he had a flashlight in his left hip pocket, or he was already
sporting a humongous boner. Whatever it was, I took ahold of it and stroked
it.
The biker turned his head slightly and shouted 'Watch it, baybeh; you're
playing with a loaded gun. I can't control this Harley with you jackin' me
off.' I yelled into his ear 'Ooh, it's so BIG!' He shouted back 'You and
him'll have plenty of chance to git acquainted a little later.'
About five miles up the road was the entrance to a state forest. The biker
pulled into it and turned up an old woods road to the left. The road petered
out after a couple of hundred yards. 'Plenty o' privacy here.' remarked the
biker as he dismounted. I got off and, as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped
his fly, he introduced himself. 'I'm Brutus Bonestella; everybody calls me
Brutebones.' I didn't give my last name; I just said 'I'm Eve.'
Brutebones reached deeply into the left leg of his leathers and hauled out his
trouser snake, a real python, and freed his balls from their confinement in
the tight leather pants. His cock quickly swelled and stiffened until it was a
good nine inches long. It was his balls, though, that attracted and amazed me.
They were the biggest balls I'd ever seen on a man. Each one was a generous
handful and they hung very low.
'I give the best head you've ever had.' I announced, 'and the ultimate
orgasm.' Brutebones laughed. 'Ultimate, eh ? Does that mean best or last ?' I
laughed but said nothing, and bent from the waist throwing back my head so
that there was a straight line from my mouth down through my throat.
His nine-inch cock was uncircumcised, but, now that it was erect, the foreskin
had pulled back fully so that the head was completely uncovered. Fortunately,
and a bit to my surprise, it was clean. I flicked my tongue back-and-forth and
up-and-down across the very tip of his cock, barely touching it, tickling it.
He began to lube. I swirled my tongue around the glans, working my way back to
the corona. I whipped my tongue back-and-forth under the frenum. Brutebones
began to tremble.
Then, I wrapped my lips over my teeth and pushed forward, sliding down and
deep-throating his shaft until my nose was buried in his pubic hair. 'Good
Gawdamighty !' exclaimed Brutebones. 'You sure do give great head. Squeeze my
balls. I like it that way.' HAH ! Here he was playing right into my hands. I
took his huge balls in my hands and squeezed until he said 'Whoa, baybeh,
that's hard enough. Just like that."
I worked my mouth back and forth on his cock, whipping my tongue side-to-side
under the shaft, slowly at first until he began panting and moaning. Then I
speeded up faster and faster. Suddenly he cried out 'Here it comes, baybeh !'
His jism was as bitter as Guinness stout and as thick and lumpy as tapioca
pudding. The head happened to be in my mouth rather than down my throat at the
time and he flooded my mouth so fast that I couldn't swallow fast enough and
it came out of my nose.
He was pumping it out so fast that I couldn't tell one spurt from another.
Suddenly he gave out a long happy 'AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!' which changed to
'AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!' as I squeezed his balls with all my might and as fast
as I could. He went into violent convulsions, a real grand mal seizure. I
looked up at his face; his mouth and eyes were wide open. His eyes rolled back
and everything stopped. Just as if switched off, the spurting, the scream, and
the convulsions abruptly stopped. I smelled shit. Apparently, the last thing
that happened was that his bowels emptied themselves.
His body went completely limp and he fell on top of me. I crawled out from
under him and felt his wrist for a pulse. I couldn't find any, so I put my
stainless steel ID bracelet next to his nostrils. It didn't cloud up. Then I
was sure he was dead. Brutebones died harder than any other man I've ever
given his ultimate orgasm."
At this point, Eve laid her diary aside and applied the vibrator, which she'd
had deep inside her vagina, close to her cervix, directly to her clitoris. She
experienced a prolonged orgasm and, then it slipped from her fingers as she
drifted off to sleep.
When Eve awoke, she could hear the vibrator still buzzing. As she switched it
off, for some reason, she thought of her father, the first man she had given
the ultimate orgasm. She was only fourteen when he raped her. At least, he'd
had the decency to wear a condom.
It was purely on impulse that, feeling his testicles rolling around on her
thighs, she had reached down, grabbed them, and squeezed them with all her
might, just as he reached his climax. He gasped, convulsed once, and lay still
atop her with his eyes half open. Several minutes passed before she realized
that he was dead. The realization gave her a great feeling of power.
The nasty behaviour of the boys she knew had already led her to the conclusion
that all men are beasts. Being raped by her own father confirmed it. Now,
however, she knew how to defend herself against men and how to punish them.
Eve called 911 and told the dispatcher that her father had raped her and then
apparently had a stroke or something. Her hymeneal blood was on the sheets and
the condom, ample evidence that she had been a virgin until her father had
raped her. The Coroner ruled that her father had died of a seizure. Well, he
had, but the Coroner never guessed just what had been seized.
Her mother having died earlier that year , Eve was placed in the care of her
aunt, Roberta, a lesbian who loathed men. This further helped shape Eve's
personality into the bestower of the ultimate orgasm.
* * * |
The Cousins | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Two female cousins use a boyfriend for sexual exploration and experimentation. | ` The Cousins `
By
White Rabbit
Chapter One
When I was a senior in college, I started dating a beautiful, brunette
freshman named Carole. She was intelligent and had the kind of classical
beauty that always attracted me. Carole lived in an apartment near the campus
with her cousin Martha. Her cousin was a blonde sophomore with a slender,
athletic body. Although not as beautiful as Carole, she was pretty and
vivacious. She was friendly with the opposite sex, but she never seemed to
have a date and was always around when I spent time at their apartment. The
three of us got along well, but there were times when I wished Martha had a
more active social life so that Carole and I could be alone. They both wore
skimpy clothing around the apartment and were always touching me on the arm or
the thigh while we sat around talking. I spent most of my time in their
apartment in a constant state of arousal. Later, I realized that this was part
of their plan, but at the time I was under the influence of raging hormones.
After several weeks of dating, Carole and I started making-out on the couch of
her apartment. The kissing was passionate and the feel of her body pressed
close to mine was enough to make me get an instant erection. She was an ardent
participant, but she always stopped me when I was ready to go beyond a certain
point. A couple of times I managed to cup her 36C breasts and give them a
quick squeeze, but she just brushed my hand aside and told me to stop. I would
place my hand on her knee and slide it softly up the inside of her thigh while
raising her skirt, but she would always stop me before I could reach her
panties. I was raised a “gentleman” and so I always stopped when she told me
to. I could tell she enjoyed our make-out sessions by her heavy breathing and
the occasional soft moan. I kept telling myself that eventually she would
relent and we would go farther, but the months went by with no further
progress. I was starting to get frustrated. One night, I finally told her how
frustrated I was and asked her if there was a problem. She apologized and told
me she was frustrated, too. Then she told me that she was a virgin and was
saving her virginity for her husband on her wedding night. I was at a complete
loss for words. I couldn’t think of one intelligent thing to say. So I just
told her that I should be going and would call her the next day.
Over the next several months, the pattern continued. I avoided discussing the
situation with her, but we continued to make-out two or three times a week,
always with the same results – a raging case of blue balls. One day, Carole
left Martha an I alone in the apartment while she went to the supermarket. We
sat on the couch talking and listening to music. She was wearing a halter top
and a tight pair of white short that showed off her smooth, tanned thighs. I
could clearly see the outline of her pubic mound when I manage a glance while
her head was turned. She turned back suddenly and caught me looking. She gave
me a little smile, put her hand on my upper thigh and said, “You poor boy …
you must be really frustrated.” I was embarrassed at being caught looking at
her crotch and by her comment, but I got a huge erection as soon as her soft
hand touched my thigh. I saw her glance down at my crotch and I saw a strange
smile develop on her face when she saw the bulge in my jeans.
At that moment, Carole returned. She and Martha went into the kitchen to put
the groceries away. I tried to regain my composure and hoped that my erection
would subside before they returned. I could hear them talking and giggling
through the kitchen door, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I became
even more embarrassed when I realized that Martha was probably telling Carole
what had just happened between us. They returned to the living room, giggling
and whispering. I could feel the blush on my face and wished I could
disappear. They sat on the couch on either side of me and the smell of their
perfume didn’t help my predicament. Carole said they wanted to watch a movie.
I spent the rest of the evening watching television with them, but my mind was
on the events of the afternoon.
It was springtime and I was the captain of the tennis team. We had a match
against a college in a nearby city and it was late in the afternoon when I
returned to my dorm. I had promised Carole that I would help her prepare for a
calculus exam that afternoon, but we ran into heavy traffic on the way back
from the match. I was late, so I quickly showered, threw on some cut-off jeans
and a tee shirt, and rushed over to their apartment. Carole was a little
perturbed at my lateness, but she gave me a kiss and a hug when I told her I
had won my tennis match. We cracked the books for about an hour, until she
finally felt prepared for her exam. Martha came home and they offered to fix
me dinner as a reward. I was happy to accept. They told me to stretch out on
the couch while they worked in the kitchen. I must have fallen asleep within a
minute or two.
I think what woke me was the sound of female giggling. I was very groggy, but
I was aware that I had an erection and that something unusual was happening. I
kept my eyes closed and my breathing steady as I tried to figure out what was
going on. I heard Martha say “I can’t believe how big it is!” Carole said,
“Shush, you’ll wake him up.” Then Carole whispered, “I knew it was big - I
could feel it up against me sometimes when we were making out.” Martha said,
“Pull up his shorts a little higher so we can see more of it.” I realized the
head of my penis was sticking out of my cut-offs and that my erection was
growing even larger in reaction to the situation. I wasn’t sure what to do. I
knew I was enjoying the attention and I may have even been hoping that some
type of sexual activity would develop. In addition to being aroused, I was
embarrassed and I didn’t know how to respond to this strange mixture of
emotions. I decided to continue pretending to be asleep and see what would
happen.
I could feel the right leg of my shorts moving slowly higher until it reached
the point where my penis was able to spring upright, no longer confined by my
shorts. I heard both of the girls gasp and then giggle as I felt the cool air
on my erection. For the next few moments, all I heard was my own breathing and
the rapid beating of my own heart. My penis was throbbing and bobbing around.
By shoving the legs of my shorts up to free my erection, Carole had caused the
crotch of my cut-offs to press into my balls and they were aching. Suddenly, I
felt a cool soft hand around the shaft of my penis. I didn’t know which girl
was touching me, but it didn’t really matter to me at that point. The hand
glided gently up my shaft to the glans and then I felt fingertips fluttering
around the head of my penis. I heard Martha whisper, “How does it feel?”
Carole said, “It’s smooth and warm and I can feel it throbbing.” I could tell
she was excited by the breathless sound in her voice. She whispered to Martha,
“You can touch it if you want.”
I felt Carole’s fingers leave my glans and Martha’s hand, warmer and slightly
moist, wrap around my pulsating shaft. I was in heaven as her hand moved up
and down my penis, pausing occasionally to squeeze it gently. Her fingers
moved to the head of my penis and I felt a fingertip playing with my urethra.
I could hear the girls breathing heavily. Then I felt a second hand wrap
around the base of my penis while the fingers continued to play with my glans.
The pressure in my balls was increasing and the mixture of pain and pleasure
was intense. Carole whispered, “It’s really throbbing, now. It looks like the
head is going to burst.” Martha said, “I want to see his balls. Can you get
them out?” Carole said, “No! His shorts are too tight. Besides, that would
wake him up.” “But I really want get my hands on his balls,” said Martha in a
pouting tone of voice. “No way! If he wakes up, he’ll be mad,” replied Carole.
The girls continued playing with my penis. Martha was stroking my shaft more
rapidly while Carole was squeezing the head and tickling around the rim.
“There’s juice coming out of his hole,” said Carole. I felt a finger spreading
the moisture around my urethra and the glans of my penis. “I think he’s
getting ready to spurt,” whispered Martha. “Have you ever seen one spurt
before?” asked Carole. “Of course, silly!” said Martha giggling. “Let’s stop
for a second before he shoots,” said Martha. Carole’s hand left the head of my
penis and Martha stopped her stroking, but maintained her grip on my shaft.
“Go get me the jar of Vaseline and a Q-tip,” whispered Martha. “What for?”
asked Carole. “We’re going to play a game,” said Martha.
I heard Carole leave, then Martha whispered, “I know you’re awake. Just keep
pretending to be asleep and I’ll make sure we all have more fun.” I opened my
eyes a little and saw Martha looking at me with a strange smile on her face. I
glanced down to see her small hand holding my penis. She started stroking it
again and then leaned over and licked the head. She looked back at me, licked
her lips and said, “I know you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” Just then,
we heard Carole returning from the back of the apartment. I closed my eyes and
continued my sleeping act. “You stroke his shaft for awhile,” said Martha. I
felt Martha’s hand being replaced by Carole’s hand. She began stroking me. Her
hand was sliding from the base up to the head and back, picking up my natural
lubrication in the process. “He’s really leaking now,” said Carole. “Why don’t
you taste his juice?” asked Martha. “What? Are you crazy?” asked Carole. “No,
silly! It tastes good, just try it. Stick out your tongue and lick the tip of
his dick,” said Martha.
I felt warm breath on the head of my penis and then a soft tongue around my
hole. Her hand continued to stroke me at the same time. “How does it taste?”
asked Martha. “Not bad,” replied Carole, “Do you want to taste him?” I felt
more warm breath and another tongue on my cock head. Carole’s hand was still
moving slowly on my shaft. “Watch this,” whispered Martha. Suddenly, the head
of my penis was engulfed in a warm, wet mouth. I couldn’t help the involuntary
groan that followed. “You’re waking him up,” whispered Carole. I felt Martha’s
teeth sink into the rim of my glans for a second, and then she pulled her
mouth off with some added suction. “No, he’s still asleep. Men have sex dreams
all the time. He’s just having one that’s better than usual,” said Martha. My
natural lubrication, combined with their saliva, was making Carole’s hand
slide up and down more easily. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer.
“What’s the name of the game?” asked Carole. “I call it ICBM, Inner Cock
Ballistic Missile,” whispered Martha, “Just keep stroking him and watch.”
Carole’s hand was sliding up and down my penis more rapidly now. Then I felt
fingers on my cock head, squeezing the sides near the tip. “Keep it steady for
me,” whispered Martha. I heard Carole gasp and then she giggled. Suddenly I
felt the strangest sensation. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before.
“Won’t that hurt him?” asked Carole. “Maybe a little, but not enough to wake
him up, he’s exhausted from his tennis match,” said Martha, “Keep stroking
him.” Then I felt the pain. It was a weird kind of pain that I couldn’t
describe, but it was mixed with excitement and arousal. I felt a tongue
licking my frenum while Carole’s hand kept stroking me. Martha’s fingers were
still squeezing my glans and I knew I was about to ejaculate. The pain was
getting worse, but it was mingled with the pleasure of my impending orgasm.
“Now watch! He’s going to launch the missile any second now. Keep stroking,”
said Martha. I couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my eyes and looked down to
see Carole’s hand gliding up and down on my cock. There was the white fuzzy
tip of a Q-tip sticking out of my urethra. The rest of it was inside my penis.
Just then, I felt the waves of my orgasm starting. I couldn’t stop it. Martha
glanced at me with a smile, and then looked back down at my penis. Carole was
staring intently at my cock while she continued to stroke it. She appeared to
be engrossed in the game and was not aware that I was awake.
I moaned loudly as I began to ejaculate. I saw the Q-tip shoot out of the end
of my cock and fly up into the air, landing in Carole’s long dark hair. Then
spurt after spurt of semen shot out. It landed everywhere. More landed in
Carole’s hair and on her face. One spurt landed on Martha’s cheek. She used a
finger to scoop it off and then stuck it in her mouth. She made an “mmmm”
sound and then licked her lips. “Wow……cool!” exclaimed Carole. I watched as
Martha lowered her mouth down over the head of my penis, while Carole was
holding the shaft. She sucked on it for a few seconds and licked it clean
around the edge of the glans. At that moment, Carole glanced up at me and saw
my eyes were open. She got a startled look on her face, followed by the
expression of a little girl being caught in the act of doing something wrong.
Martha reached over and picked the Q-tip out of Carole’s hair. “Just
retrieving our missile,” said Martha.
Although this had been the most exciting sexual experience of my life to that
point, I was embarrassed and humiliated. I jumped up, pulled my shorts down
over my penis, grabbed my sneakers and rushed out of the apartment. I heard
Martha say, “Don’t go John, stay and we’ll have more fun.” Then I heard Carole
say, “I’m sorry John, please don’t be mad, we were just having fun.” But I
couldn’t face them at that moment. I had to leave. I ran back to my dorm room
and took a shower. I turned the phone off so they couldn’t call me. I wasn’t
ready to talk to them. I fell asleep as soon as I got in bed.
\- End of Chapter One -
* * * |
For the love of Jason, Part 3 | GAY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Squirt has a plan. But what the hell is it? | For the love of Jason (part 3)
[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.
_____________________________
Will Alex have sex with Squirt? You have to read part 1 and part 2 before
reading his part...
_____________________________
So Squirt sat on my bed in silence, looking at me. “What?”, I asked.
“Will you get mad at me if I tell you something?” he asked in a soft voice.
“How can I get mad at you Squirt? You’re an angle. Even if you always forget
to knock on my door before walking in…”, I answered, smiling.
“Well… I’d like to spend the night with you Alex. I mean…”
“Oh I think I know what you mean Squirt”, I answered with a warm smile on my
face. “Come on… join me in the bed under the sheet.” A second later Squirt was
laying right next to me, with a content smile on his face. “So… you want to
try me, huh?” I said… tickling him a little. He turned red in the face and
started giggling. Then, after a few seconds he looked at me straight in the
eyes and said: “I really want to have sex with you Alex. You are so… so good-
looking. And beside, in case you haven’t noticed, I love you. So… please… will
you have sex with me? Will you make love to me?
“You already know Squirt that I love you too. You’re very, very good-looking.
And you’re very sexy, also. And you are very desirable. That’s for sure. But
then… I might not be able to satisfy you…”
“How come?”
“You see… I’m like you, Squirt. I’m a bottom. I’m not even versatile. I know
you want my dick up your ass cause, lets be honest… Jason told me so. But I
might not be able to get a hardon and I don’t want you to think that it’s
because I don’t like you, or that I don’t find you sexy. Not at all.”
“Well… I knew you were a bottom Alex, but I didn’t know you were not
versatile. I thought that, well, that you had no problem to top. But I
understand and I know how you feel. Don’t worry. And I won’t be mad at you if
it doesn’t work between the two of us. But maybe we can try. Just to see if it
works. If it doesn’t, well, it doesn’t and that’s all. What do you say?”,
Squirt asked, with a smile on his face no one could resist. And certainly not
me.
“Yeah, we can try… as long as you don’t feel bad if it doesn’t work”, I
answered giving him a peck on the nose.”
“You know what Alex? I think you’re very good-looking. Don’t laugh. It’s true.
The first time I saw you in the manager’s office at the slave market, I
melted. I wanted to have you so much. I love everything about you. Your smell,
the way you smile, your voice, and of course your great body”, he said,
laughing… “So even if you can’t perform, I don’t care. Just being here with
you, laying next to you in your bed, with your strong arms wrapped around me
like that… well, I feel good.”
“Thanks Squirt. You’re an angle”.
“Um… may I ask you something Alex?” “Sure, what?” “Well… could you kiss me. I
mean, really kiss me. Cause Jason refuses to do that. And from the reaction he
got when I asked him to kiss me, I came to the conclusion I was better not to
press the matter further.” “Good thinking…”, I answered
At that, I planted a sweet kiss on his chin. He laughed and said: “That’s not
really the kind of kiss I had in mind Alex….”
I burst out laughing then I kissed him gently on his lips. Obviously, he was
very horny. Just like me. I mean… here I was, in bed with a very good-looking
kid who was hot as hell. He then grabbed my head and began kissing me
passionately. He really took me by surprise but it didn’t take long tor me to
return the favor with passion. Shit, he was good. What a kisser, I thought. A
natural, like they say…
Before long we were both kissing passionately. While we were kissing, he was
running his hand all over my hairless groin and then, he gave my dick a slight
squeeze and I started feeling it growing under his hand. I was in heaven. He
continued playing with my dick like that and before I knew it, I was hard.
“Oh yeah…”, I moaned… “That feels sooooo good”.
“You want me to blow you?”, the little devil asked… with a big smile on his
face. “Do you know how to do that? Have you blown Jason?”, I asked… “Nope” he
answered. “I think Jason was too shy to ask and I didn’t offer to do it as I
didn’t know how. He has never been blown before and I want to make sure his
first blow job will be something he remembers all his life. So before I blow
him I want you to teach me how to do it”, he answered, laughing…
“OK. Fine. First, you got to use your tongue to explore my body all over.
Excite me. And don’t touch my dick and balls. Just run your tongue all over my
smooth body.
Before I could even finish my sentence Squirt was down on me, giving me a good
tongue bath! After a few minutes he looked up at me and asked “Like that?”.
“Yeah… just like that.” I answered, moaning.
He was good. Shit, he really was a natural…
He resumed his work and after a while I felt his hands reach my tits. He
grasped them and began twisting and pulling on them. Then he began kissing and
licking them and my moans told him I was in heaven. Again he looked up at me
“How am I doing Alex?” he asked, with a little smile on his face. “Like a
pro”, I answered, laughing…
Before long, he was licking and kissing his way down to my crotch. He was
really, really good and the more he was working on me the more I was horny and
hard! I couldn’t believe it. He kissed and licked my crotch, never touching my
dick and balls. He kissed my thighs and licked them clean. Then he went back
licking right under my balls. From the sounds I was making he knew he was
driving me crazy. He took my hard dick into his hand and pulled it off from my
belly so he could kiss and lick the spot where my bush used to stand. He then
took his time licking and kissing the hairless that hairless spot and I liked
it so much that I had to tell him to stop cause I was afraid his actions would
make me cum. It felt so good to feel his warm tongue licking me there. Why the
hell do we grow hair down there, I wondered. It feels so good to be hairless
down there and to be licked like that, I thought to myself…
Then, after a while I said: “OK. Now you can start licking my balls. Don’t go
too fast. Do it slowly. Yeah… just like that. Ohhhhh it feels soooo good!.
Yeah. Now, start licking my dick. But don’t take it into your mouth. Not yet.
Just tease it with your tongue. Yeah. That’s good. Ohhh shit you’re good
Squirt”.
Of course, while he was “performing”, I couldn’t get my eyes off his beautiful
smooth body. After a few minutes of doing that, Squirt looked up at me and
said: “Sorry Alex, but I can’t wait any longer. I must have take your juicy
dick into my mouth. I need it. I want it so bad…”
“OK” I answered, laughing. “Now listen to me. Be very gentle at first. Keep
your teeth away from the skin and let your tongue and cheeks caress it. Keep
it wet with your saliva. That makes it feel really good.”
He followed my instructions to the letter and began by teasing my dick a long
time. Then he started swallowing it slowly. God it felt good! Then he paused
for a second and resumed swallowing it again, this time going about a half-
inch further. “That’s it Squirt. You’re doing fine” I told him. “Eventually
you want to suck more vigorously, causing your cheeks and tongue to rub
against it harder.” He did just as I had described and I moaned. Before long I
was gushing into him and he was swallowing all of my dick and soon I had my
hands pull against the back of his dead, trying to push my organ deeper into
his mouth. He looked up into my eyes while he was sucking me and I held his
gaze for a long time like that, while he was going up and down on my dick.
Obviously he was enjoying it. Then he started increasing the suction and I had
to stop him before it was too late, as I didn’t want to cum too fast. He
looked up at me, precum and saliva dripping down his chin “Am I doing
something wrong? Why are you stopping me?”, he asked. I laughed and said
“Ohhhh no Squirt, you didn’t do anything wrong. Not at all. You’re perfect.
It’s just that I don’t want to cum yet. You wouldn’t want to make me cum too
fast, would you? You want to make it last for a while cause it’s not really
fun if your man cums too fast. So you have to learn when it’s time to stop, to
make it last…”
He smiled back at me and said “You’re so right. Jason always cum too fast when
he fucks me”. I laughed and said: “Well, that’s because you don’t know how to
control him. You have to be in control Squirt. You have to be the one to
decide when it’s time for him to cum, if you see what I mean”.
He nodded, then without me saying anything about it… he started sucking and
nibbling slightly on my sack, playing with my orbs. I couldn’t believe how
good it felt. “Please Squirt… could you scrap my orbs with your teeth?”, I
asked, moaning. He laughed and began doing what I had asked. WOW. It felt
SOOOO good. After a few minutes, he resumed licking my dick, taking the full
length of it into his young mouth. I started moaning so much it almost scared
me.
But Squirt had learned his lesson well and before I could say anything, he
stopped blowing me. He let go of my dick, looked up at me and said “Ohhhh no,
you’re not going to climax on me like that. No way.“
I couldn’t help it and burst out laughing. “You’re learning fast Squirt.
You’re a pro, really!”
Obviously, Squirt was very proud of himself and before I knew it, he had
“resumed” his good work. As much as I was in heaven, after a while I said: “OK
Squirt. It’s my turn to please you a little. Because you see… making love with
someone is different than simply having sex with someone. When you love
someone, you not only take the pleasure your lover gives you, but you also
want to pleasure him. And so it’s my turn to try to pleasure you. So now, lay
on your back and let me explore your smooth body…”
He gave me one of those gorgeous stares of his and I laughed. “You’re so
beautiful Squirt. God you’re beautiful. You really are an angle.”, I sincerely
said. And he knew I was being sincere.
I raised myself from the bed and made Squirt lay down on his back. Then I
knelt between his legs and I began admiring his beautiful body. He really was
an angel. What a cutie. Such a nice tight muscular little body – not too
pumped, just nicely defined. I looked between his navel and his knees and
wasn’t the least surprise to see that there was… nothing. No dick, no balls,
no sack… not even a pussy. Nothing. I just couldn’t keep from staring at the
totally smooth, empty spot between his legs. I wet a few fingers using my
saliva and started fingering the area where his penis and balls had once hung.
He moaned and I smiled "It does feel good doesn't it“ I asked him, smiling.
“You have no idea of how good it feels…”, he answered, gasping. “You’re so
beautiful Squirt”, I replied.
I began stroking his inner thighs, and softly kissed the emptiness between his
legs. As soon as my lips touched the smooth skin of his crotch Squirt arched
his back slightly and moaned out just from the touch. “Oh God…” he moaned…
that’s it. Oh yeah… that’s it. Kiss me there. Kiss my emptiness Alex. It feels
soooo good!” I looked at him and saw he was tenderly smiling. He lifted
himself up onto his elbows and, looking down at me he said: “Please Alex, lick
my empty space. Please. I need it…” he said, pleading.
As he spoke, he placed his left hand on the back of my head and brought my
face closer to his smooth crotch. I breathed deeply and got no hint of male
musk. He had no smell other than that of the soap he had used in the shower
earlier in the day. He smelled so clean. I resumed kissing his empty crotch
and he shuddered with pleasure. I then breathed deeply and let my tongue slide
out between my lips just as he pressed my face to his empty crotch. He groaned
with ecstasy. “Don’t stop”” he gasped. “Please don’t stop”. I smiled and began
licking his smooth, clean and velvety crotch. There was no stubble, no hair…
just uninterrupted skin. It made me so horny. I began giving him a tonguebath
that let him know I liked what I was doing and liked giving him pleasure. He
felt his empty crotch grow hot and wet. I was so horny; I couldn't stop myself
and before long, I was licking him from head to toe. I tongued him, cleaned
him, bathed him. I went back to work on his empty crotch and pretty soon his
whole area was dripping. Obviously Squirt was loving what I was doing to him
cause he was moaning so hard I had to tell him to lower his tone. He laughed.
Then he asked me to lay down on top of him and I did so. At first I was a bit
worried as my body is much bigger than his and he said “Don’t worry about
that. It feels good”.
Before long I had my arms wrapped about him. My dick and balls were trapped
between us, rubbing against our stomachs, dripping precum like crazy. My dick
was pressed hard against the smooth void in his groin and it felt soooo good!
We were both moaning, totally lost to our sexual ardor. Then I moved a little
to my right side and with my right hand I reached down and began stroking
between his legs where his boy parts used to be. He squirmed and sighed... and
tried to say something, but I clamped my open mouth over his letting our
tongues explore each other’s mouths. I continued to strike between his legs
and ran my slippery fingers along his empty crotch. Suddenly, Squirt’s whole
body tensed… and he almost sucked my tongue down his throat. “Um… I said,
letting go of his lips… “I think you like that, don’t you?”, “Oh God”… he
sighed huskily “I love it Alex. You’re the best. You really are the best…”, he
answered…
“… And it’s not over yet…”, I answered
At that, I began to run my hand all over his flat crotch and began fingering
his peehole. He gasped. “Take your time, Alex. Take the time to feel just how
smooth I am down there. Don’t you like that? “Oh God Squirt… you’re so
beautiful”, I answered.
“What you’re doing to me Alex is fantastic. I want to give you the same
pleasure. Isn’t that what making love is all about?”, he asked…
At that he pushed me off of him, forced me to lay down on my back on the bed
then swung into a sixty-nine over me. I stared at the wondrous sight before my
eyes… his smooth crotch and then his redesigned piss hole. And just beyond was
the crevice that housed his boy tunnel. I immediately began to tongue them
both as he found my dick, taking it into his warm mouth. Ohhhhh it felt good.
For a while we kept licking and sucking one another like that and we were both
in heaven. My dick was so hard. I couldn’t remember the last time it had been
so hard for such a long time. Really Squirt was an expert.
Suddenly he rose and swung about to face me and, without saying anything, he
straddled me and then, lowered himself onto my rigid, very slippery dick in a
swift movement. I gasped.
His ass hole was so tight and so warm… it felt soooo good I couldn’t believe
it. My dick had never felt the delight of such pressure. He used his tight
hole to manipulate my dick, undulating and milking it non stop. We were both
panting and sweating and groaning and when I started pounding up against his
prostate his eyes rolled back in pure bliss. I lifted up onto my elbows after
a while and looked down at him riding my dick. What a fantastic feeling it was
to look at this kid going up and down on my dick without balls and a dick
blocking my sight. Just a clear view of my cock sliding in and out of his
hairless puckered hole.
I reached up and began circling his beautiful tits with my slippery fingers.
His nipples sprang up hard as soon as my fingers began circling them,
accompanied by a sharp hiss as he tried to contain the gasp escaping him. Then
I began twisting and pulling on them and Squirt screamed in ecstasy. “Oh God
Alex… you’re the best. You really are”, he shouted.
We rode each other like that for as long as we could but after a while I
screamed “I’m going to cum Squirt. I can’t stop it…”
“I’m almost there Alex. Keep fucking me hard. Yeah… like that. Oh God…” he
answered, panting…
Then I felt my dick explode inside his tight hole and I screamed. We reached
climax almost at the same time. Of course, his was dry and shuddering. His
head dropped back and he purred and grunted. “Oh yeah,” he sighed huskily.
“That feels sooooo good” . He took a deep breath and began milking my dick
even harder with his tight ass hole, just to make sure he was getting all the
juice he could out of it. Then he laid down over me with my dick still planted
deep inside his boy hole. I grabbed his face in my hands and began kissing him
passionately. My hands explored his face and raked through his blond hair as
our tongues wrestled. We kept kissing like that for a while, the both of us
panting and heaving like that in our afterglow. Then our lips parted as we
were both exhausted. We didn’t speak. He leaned his head on my strong
shoulders and I kept my arms wrapped around his beautiful body. Eventually, my
softening dick retreated from his ass with a plop and Squirt opened his eyes
“Oh God Alex. It was soooooo good. Jason has a bigger dick than you, but
you’re so… you’re so tender. I wish I could combine the two of you. Not that
you have a small dick… I mean…”
I burst out laughing and said: “Nah. I know what you mean. I’ve seen Jason’s
dick with his PA ring… and I understand. I’m no match.”
“But you’re so good Alex. Shit you’re good. As much as I need Jason’s big
dick… I need you too. I need the two of you. Yeah… that’s it. We have to form
a threesome. That’s it.”, he said, laughing hard….
“Well… good luck Squirt. Cause I don’t think Jason will agree to that. He
isn’t gay you know. And in case you haven’t noticed, I have a dick and I also
have balls. It won’t work…”, I answered laughing…
“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. I think I have an idea… but I will have to
work on it a little…”
“You’re terrible Squirt. But I love you. I love you so much…”
“I know. And I love you too Alex. And I want you to be happy. Just trust me,
will you?”
I laughed… knowing perfectly well that the little devil was able to accomplish
miracles”
The day after I was sitting at the table on the terrace enjoying coffee,
reading a book when Jason walked out of the mansion. I raised my eyes from my
book to look at him, and he had a big smile on his face. I didn’t react and
went back reading my book. He walked over to the table and sat on a chair near
me without saying a word. From the corner of my eyes I could see he still had
a big smile on his face. But he didn’t say anything. Obviously, he was waiting
for me to say something. But I remained silent.
After a while he looked at me and said: “Aren’t you curious as to why I’m
smiling like that?”, he asked…
“Nope. Because I know why”.
“You do?”
“Of course I do. What do you think? Squirt ran to you this morning and told
you about last night. I’m sure he did. And so that’s why you now have such a
big smile on your face. I’m not stupid, you know…”
He burst out laughing and said: “I guess not, huh? You’re so right. Anyway,
you’re always right. Yeah… Squirt rant to me this morning. He was simply
ecstatic. He said you’re the best. Not that it surprises me, cause I knew all
along that you must be hot in bed”.
I laughed and said: “How could you know that, huh?”
“I don’t know. I just know it. You’re a hunk, that’s for sure. No one can
resist your charm.”
“Oh? And what about you Jason?”, I replied, still laughing…
“Well, how can I say? If you were… not a man… I’d be the first to jump on you
and… oh well, don’t embarrass me, will you?”
“No no… go on, Jason. I really want to know”, I answered, closing my book and
looking at him straight in the eyes. “What do you mean by if I wasn’t a man?”
“You know… I mean, you’re a man. You have a dick and you have balls. You’re a
man. Just like me. That’s what I mean. And you know I would never have sex
with another man. That would be gay.”
“Oh yeah, you said so. Yeah”, I answered, laughing. “But then, if I didn’t
have a dick and balls, it would be different, wouldn’t it?”
Jason stoopped smiling. I noticed the change. And he kept silent for a while.
Then he said :
“Don’t get snipped because of me Alex. Never do that. I would be so mad at you
if you did that because of me. That would be crazy. Do you hear me?”
“Don’t worry Jason. First, I’m not about to get snipped. Second, if I ever
decide to do it, it won’t be because of you. Don’t worry about that.
Satisfied?”
“Yeah…”, he answered in relief.
“But that doesn’t answer my question”, I said. “If I didn’t have balls and a
dick… you would look at me differently, wouldn’t you?”
Jason took his time before giving me his answer. But after a while he said: “I
won’t answer your question Alex, because I don’t want you to do something like
that just because of me. I know you love me Alex. And I know you’d do about
anything for me. And it scares me. Really, it does. Do you get what I’m saying
Alex? I know perfectly well that you’d go as far as to get snipped for me, and
it scares me. In fact, it scares the hell out of me. You know I’m not good
with words, Alex. You know that… and… and… I wouldn’t want you to suffer on my
account. I couldn’t stand it Alex. No, I couldn’t stand it. What if you get
snipped and then later you regret it, huh? You would blame me. That’s what
would happen. And then I would lose you. And you know what Alex? I need you. I
can’t afford to lose you. No way.”
He now had tears in his eyes. And I could see how sincere he was. He was
scared he could lose me. He needed me. I wanted to ask him if he was in love
with me but I knew better. He would have lied, denying he was in love with me…
just to make sure I would not get snipped because of him. But then, I realized
that I didn’t have to ask him that question. I had already had his answer.
That’s all I needed to know.”
“Oh… stop worrying Jason. I’m not about to get snipped and like I told you, if
I ever decide to get snipped, it won’t be because of you. I swear.”
“Good”, he answered.
“But I’m afraid you have something else to worry about”.
“What?”, he asked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m very much afraid we have another problem on our hands.”
“Oh gosh. What is it this time?”, he answered, rolling his eyes…
I laughed and said: “You see, I was able to “perform” last night. I don’t know
how, but I did. But Squirt knows it won’t last. I mean… I told him that I was
a total bottom and that I was not versatile. But don’t worry; he understands.
I swear to you he does. But last night, well, somehow it worked…”
“Yeah…”, Jason said, grinning. “Squirt told me. And according to him, you were
the best”.
“Maybe. But like I said, it won’t last. Did Squirt tell you about his new
plan?”
“What new plan?”, Jason asked in surprise…
“Oh, he didn’t tell you, huh? Well… he said he needs your big dick. He loves
it. But then, he said he also needs me cause I’m so tender… and I have no
problem kissing him, something it seems you refuse to do. Anyway. So he said
that to be perfectly satisfied, he needs the two of us making love to him. He
wants us to form something like a… well, like a threesome”
Jason looked at me with disbelief in his eyes.
“You mean…”, he started to say…
“Yeah!”, I answered, rolling my eyes. “He wants the two of us to make love to
him at the same time. I don’t know what he has in mind, but he said he has a
plan. And you know him as well as I do; if he says he has a plan, he’s not
about to forget about it…”
“OH. MY. GOD.”, Jason answered. He looked totally devastated. I didn’t laugh,
but it was hard for me not to.
“Anyway. I wanted you to know, cause unless I’m wrong, it won’t take long
before Squirt starts bugging you about that…”, I added.
“And… how do you feel about that?”, he asked…
“Oh I don’t know cause I don’t know what his plans are. I have no idea. He
didn’t say. All he said is that he had a plan. And all I said is that you
weren’t gay and that you probably wouldn’t want to have sex with another man.
That’s all I said, except that I wished him good luck! Personally, I have no
problem with the idea of a threesome, if you want to know. I just don’t know
what he has in mind and I must say that I’m intrigued. Obviously Squirt
doesn’t have a problem with a threesome. The problem is with you, Jason. So I
really don’t know how Squirt is going to maneuver here. But it’s going to be
fun to see what he’s going to do and what he has in mind. But whatever he
does, don’t be surprised if he says something to you about that. You’ve been
warned. So you have time to think about the whole thing. All I’m asking you is
to stay calm when Squirt starts bugging you about that. Don’t get mad at him.
Give him a chance to say what he has to say…”
“You’re sure you don’t know what he has in mind?”, Jason asked…
“You know I have never lied to you. And so no, I have no idea. Really, I
don’t”
“OK. I know you’re telling me the truth. I’m not going to get mad at him. I
swear. And like you said, I’ll give him a chance to speak and I will listen to
him. And to be honest, I must admit that I’m as curious as you are. Squirt is
really something, you know? And if he says he has a plan, well it’s because he
does. I just can’t wait to see what it is. Sometimes he’s so crooked that I
can’t believe he’s my brother”, Jason answered, laughing…
“Yeah. I know that you mean…”, I answered. “But we both love him, don’t we?”
“I love him to death, and you know that. And I think you love him as much as I
do. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to do all he wants me to do. There are
limits.”
“…Like, you don’t want to kiss him, huh?”
Jason looked at me and said “Yeah. I guess he told you so, huh? “
“Well… it’s not a big secret, is it?”
“I guess not. (…) You see Alex, I listened to you. It’s true that Squirt is no
longer a man, so it’s not gay to have sex with him. Then… I did my best to
adapt to your society and I agreed to make love to him cause you said it
wasn’t wrong to do so. Anyway it wasn’t very difficult to do that, because I
really do love him. But there are limits. As much as I’m doing my best to
adapt, I just can’t kiss him. I just can’t. That’s too much asking…”
“I understand Jason. Don’t worry. I really do. I think you made real progress
but I understand that you have your limits, and I respect that. I would like
to tell you you’re a great guy Jason, but you already told you that so I won’t
repeat myself…”
He smiled…
“OK. So you know what’s coming…”, I finally said.
“Yeah. Thanks for warning me…”, he answered, laughing. “And whatever happens,
it’s not like if you were going to suffer, cause I bet you wouldn’t mind
having sex with Squirt and me…”.
I burst out laughing and said : « You’re wrong Jason. Having sex is one thing,
making love is another thing. Would I like to make love with the two of you?
You bet I would… »
A few days later, Squirt came running into my room, without knocking on my
door, of course….
He had a big smile on his face… and said: “He agreed”
I really didn’t know what he was talking about so I looked up at him and asked
“What do you mean? Who agreed? And to what?”
“Jason. He agreed. He said he would agree to a threesome. The three of us. He
agreed”
I was stunned by the news so for a while, I just kept staring at Squirt, not
knowing what to say…
“Don’t tell me you’re not happy, cause I know you’d be lying. I know you love
Jason. Don’t even try to deny it. I know you do. And I’m sure you’re just
about as thrilled as I am about the great news. Yup. I swear to you Alex, he
has agreed”.
I didn’t know what to say. I was taken by surprise. Totally. The first thing
that came to my mind is that indeed, Squirt was the devil. He had done
something, said something to Jason… what? I didn’t know. Which brought me back
to his plan. Obviously he really had a plan and Jason had agreed to it. But
what was it?
__________________________________________
To know the rest of the story, please stay tuned. Part 4 of the story should
be available pretty soon. Oh and please… if you liked the story, give me your
feedback. As I’ve already said, I read everything you guys write. I may not be
able to answer you all, and I’m sorry about that. So far, your comments have
been very positive and I’m thrilled. Thanks so much. You really keep me going,
pals. Thanks.
* * * |
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magazines, "Cruel...", you know the one right? I e-mail them right away asking
to speak on the phone about a video commission. In no time we have arranged a
meeting. The proprietor is a friendly man, Andy. We sit down with a coffee and
I outline my plan/ desires. I also have a list of girls I have seen on his
website that I would like to take part if they are available in the next ten
days or so. I will also need a male 'victim'. He says he has no trouble with
castration as a theme, there's always some on his website. I say that I have
noticed that you don't see men with hard-ons in his material which I find
unrealistic. He says it's a legal consideration which won't matter for a
privately produced film. He says if it seems OK to him he could re-edit it and
sell it himself, thereby reducing the cost to me. I say fine, and he tells me
the price. It's a little more than I thought, but I can afford it no problem.
My bank account will hardly feel it. I leave a cash deposit and go for some
lunch while he makes some phone calls. When I come back 2 hours later it's
been arranged in a weeks time. It can be done in a good days filming, editing
will take another 2 to 3 days, and transfer to a single video tape and DVD
will take another week after that. I say I will collect them personally! It's
agreed that I will stand in to watch the filming and of course have my input,
after all it's only for me!
I come back a week later on the day of filming and am pleased with the people
he has assembled. This is what I had specified:-
Film title:- "Sex-offender Castration Session"
Characters (One male, five females):-
The Prisoner: In a future female Police State anyone transgressing the strict
sex laws will be nullified. The Prisoner has been caught with porno in his
house and he has also been found guilty of masturbation and 'looking' at
women. In fact his wife has reported him! He is 30'ish, reasonably fit and is
'well hung'.
Senior Castration Nurse Angela: She is in her 30's, attractive but stern. She
wears glasses (false ones are obtainable at chemists etc for the film) and has
a tight-lipped expression. She is a man-hater through and through.
Castration Assistants Helena and Louise: They are in their 20's, athletic and
fun-loving. Prick-teasers of course.... These three ladies all wear standard
Nurses uniforms. Underneath is a different matter....
Prison Guards Katrin and Janna: These girls wear black uniforms. Black lycra
hot-pants leaving no curve to the imagination, and short lycra halter-tops,
little more than bra's. They wear high-leg boots with military style soles and
steel toe-caps. Around their midriffs they wear a utility belt with truncheon
(real ones), spare hand-cuffs and a pistol (not real!). Their demeanour is
restrained aggression.
The location/ film set:- The Surgery/ Medical Room: Plain white room with
trolley (with restraints for prisoners), sink, work surfaces with various
vicious-looking steel implements, steel dishes etc
The film outline:
Opening titles etc, fade up from black. The Castration Nurses are laughing and
joking, Castration Nurse Angela is at her desk reading papers when the
prisoner is brought in by the two guards. He is cuffed tightly and is wearing
nothing but tight fitting grey prison pants. Angela looks up disdainfully and
approaches him. "So you're here for a medical are you?" The Nurses giggle.
"Let's take a look at you." etc She yanks his pants down unceremoniously to
reveal a big package. The Nurses proceed to measure his manhood, Angela asks
Nurse Helena to 'bring him up', then his erection is measured. (Close-up of
Helena pouting, showing cleavage). The guards leer at him and are then asked
to put him on the table. Before he is un-cuffed in order to be strapped to the
table, Guard Katrin puts her pistol in his mouth to ensure he doesn't get any
ideas about escaping. Guard Janna grips his erection in one hand and places
her truncheon against his balls for good measure. (Close-ups of the Guards
bottoms in their tight lycra pants, cleavage etc) Once securely strapped down
Angela asks him why he thinks he is there, he replies 'for a medical'. She
says correct, but also that he is here for 'corrective surgery' (his eyes
widen). "You're here for castration my man!" He pleads and begs for his balls
to be spared, Angela orders him gagged. He is rampantly erect. Angela teases
him, gripping his erection. "THIS, is the problem. THIS is why you are here."
(Close up of Angela gently jacking his cock). "The only option is to make sure
there are NO MORE displays like this! Nurse Louise, tie his balls up please."
Both Nurses take their time noosing his balls up ready for the castration. One
holds the cock out of the way teasingly. A steel dish is brought up and the
noosed balls are hung into it, ready for the cut. The Guards are told they may
as well stay, it won't be long now. Angela takes a clip-board from her desk
and reads out his sentence. "Prisoner 76901, you have been found guilty of
posession of pornography, illicit masturbation and looking at women in a
lustful manner. In order to safeguard women, you have been sentenced to
castration according to the law." Angela moves to a nearby shelf and is shown
perusing various steel instruments - shears, scalpels, scissors, clamps etc
She selects a pair of scissors and returns to the prisoner. "His balls please
Nurse Louise." Nurse Louise pulls on his balls as Angela places the scissors
around the neck of the scrotum. Nurse Helena has taken hold of the erection
and is shown gently jacking it, almost imperceptibly. (Close-up of Nurse
Helena smirking).
THE PHONE RINGS.
Angela reluctantly puts the scissors down. She answers the phone, listens and
then explains that she has to pop out for a few minutes to speak to the
Administrator, before adding for the prisoners benefit, "I'll be back very
shortly."
Nurse Helena: "When the Cat's away, the Mice will play! Isn't that right
Girls!" The Nurses and Guards show that they know each other well and proceed
to tease the tied prisoner mercillesly. Nurse Helena pouts at him and asks if
he'd like a 'last treat', and without waiting for an answer (he's gagged
anyway) proceeds to suck on his cock. Nurse Louise puts the scissors around
his balls, "You'd better not come!" etc. Guard Katrin proceeds to mount the
table in order to smother him with her bottom and pussy. (Lots of big close-
ups of her tightly lycra sheathed bottom and her shaven sex-lips clearly
visible through her hot-pants. She grinds herself on his face for several
minutes until she 'comes'. He is gasping for breath. (Interspersed with big
close-ups of Nurse Helena, and then Nurse Louise sucking his cock and
occasionally 'playfully' pretending to bite it, sometimes both at once!
THE CLICK-CLACK OF ANGELA'S HIGH HEELS IN THE CORRIDOR.
The girls hear Angela coming back, and reluctantly leave the prisoner alone.
Senior Castration Nurse Angela looks as stern as ever and peers over her
glasses at them all. She approaches the prisoner and grips and examines the
erection. She says quietly, "Nurse Helena, I wasn't born yesterday you know,
may I ask what you have been doing with the prisoner while I was out. Please
be honest, we've known each other long enough and I won't bite." Nurse Helena
fidgets and then confesses, "We've been teasing him Nurse Angela. We wanted
him to know what he's going to be missing after his castration. Angela
replies, "He's going to be missing even more, the Administrator has informed
me that his case has been upgraded to a penectomy as well." (Close-ups of
girls faces looking shocked). Guard Janna asks what a penectomy is (the
prisoner doesn't know either). "In other words, we've got to cut his cock
off." (Close-up of prisoners eyes bulging). "Now a good penectomy should be
done while the man is erect, in order to get all of it as it were. As you know
I am a perfectionist, so I think we can continue where you left off. I want
him as hard as you can get him, and then harder still. I think it's time our
prisoner saw a little less of our uniforms don't you. Angela starts to remove
her uniform, encouraging the other girls as she does so. She reveals lacy
black underwear, suspenders and stockings and her high heels. Helena is also
wearing the same, Louise is wearing light blue knickers and a bra. Guards
Katrin and Janna join in the fun, but are already wearing so little they are
now bare-breasted and wearing only the most incredibly tiny black lycra
thongs! (Close-up of their naked bottoms with only the thong in their divide,
and the tiny front-piece which has worked into their feminine divide!) Both
Guards have shaven crotches and their sex-lips pout either side of their
regulation black thongs. The girls exchange glances, shrug and then continue
to tease the prisoner again as Angela goes to the surgical equipment shelf (as
she walks over, camera shows a big close-up of her full womanly bottom rolling
in her tight black knickers). She selects the 'penectomy shears', powerful and
brutal looking in shiny chrome steel. (A shot from above, looking past her
full cleavage to the shears as she tests them with some cutting actions). When
she returns to the table, Guard Janna is now trying to smother him (virtually
naked now - big close-ups of her sex-lips grinding on his face) whilst Nurse
Helena is again sucking him. Angela mounts the table now and sits on his torso
facing his groin. The Nurses look on now as Angela 'tests' his erection,
feeling and squeezing it whilst looking over her glasses at it. In her other
hand she holds the shears menacingly close. "I need it harder," she announces.
Then, "You girls think I'm a prude don't you, well you'd be surprised what
I'll do to get the job done!" Before they can answer she has put the shears
down, moved her knickers aside without taking them off and mounted the
prisoner's erection! (Camera shows big close-up of the 'action'. Her hand
moving the knickers aside and 'controlling' the erection as it probes her
entrance and finally slides in. No trick shots here, this is for real.) She
rides him slowly, in a measured way. (Close-up of her face showing little
emotion). She is gasping a little now, but between breaths she announces,
"We'll soon have him hard enough for cutting..." (More close-ups of the
penetration, she withdraws almost fully leaving only the head of the cock in,
and then plunges slowly all the way down again. This continues for some time,
then close-up of her face as she appears to stiffen and come in a controlled
manner.) She lifts herself up a little, leaving the cock still partially
embedded in her and 'tests' the root of the erection. "There we are, as hard
as can be. Go ahead Helena, Louise - have a feel. (Close-up, with the cock
head still in Angela, of Helena and Louise feeling the root for hardness and
murmuring approvingly!) Guard Janna has turned about to watch all this so that
her full bottom cheeks are now smothering his vision. Guard Katrin looks on,
hands on hips, legs astride, revealing almost all to the camera.
Senior Castration Nurse Angela now lifts off him and resumes her perch on his
torso facing his now angrily reddened erection (the male actor/ model is a
good 8 to 9 inches of meat). She instructs Nurse Helena to maintain his
erection at maximum hardness while she positions the shears, and Nurse Louise
to keep hold of his balls because she'll be coming for them very soon after.
The prisoner groans, and Guard Janna is shown responding by crushing his face
more under her bottom to stifle him. Angela asks Guard Katrin to fetch the
glass specimen jar. (Close-up of Guard Katrin's virtually naked pert round
bottom rolling as she walks to the shelf to collect it, then after collecting
it close-ups of her bouncing breasts and her virtually naked crotch as she
returns with the large glass jar). Angela positions the shears around the
erection carefully at the very root. She coaxes Helena, "That's it Helena,
let's get it as hard as we possibly can." (Big close-up of Helena's hand
jacking the erection with the shears open around the very root. Louise's hand
can be seen pulling on the balls.)
Helena replies, "But Angela, I think he might be going to come. Should we
allow that?" (Camera shows Angela's face, still looking stern and business-
like). "No matter. In any case - a man's erection is never harder than when he
comes is it?" (She still shows no emotion). (Lots of close-ups of the nearly
naked Guard Katrin holding the specimen jar ready for the cock AND balls,
Guard Janna trying very hard to suffocate the prisoner with her full bottom,
Helena's hand jacking, Helena licking her lips and staring intently at the
captured cock, Angela's face staring sternly down, Louise staring wide-eyed at
the scene - and close-ups of Angela's hands gripping the handles of the
powerful shears between her spread thighs.)
A muffled grunt from the prisoner, beneath Janna's bottom signals what
follows. (Close-up of the prisoner's cock ejaculating, actress playing Helena
is asked to point it at Angela's breasts when he comes. Close-up of his come
streaking across Angela's black bra and cleavage. Close-up of Angela's face
set with determination. Close-up of her hands on the handles of the shears.
Close-up of the cock coming again, in slow motion now. Back to Angela's hands
closing the handles of the shears, her full breasts juddering with the effort.
Side shot of the scene with the prisoner bucking in his bonds, trying to arch
his back in desperation etc.)
At this point a pre-prepared moulding of the male actors erection would be
placed into the jar (plus some theatrical blood of course!), followed by a
side-shot (from a distance) of Angela taking his balls. Then a pair of
bloodied meat-balls going into the jar to follow the cock.
Angela would finish the scene, still straddling the now unmanned prisoner,
hands on hips with "Well done girls, a perfect penectomy and castration. I
think we deserve a celebratory drink after work!"
(Then camera shows Louise, and others in the background, staring in
fascination at the cock and balls in the jar as Guard Katrin holds it up for
all to see.)
(Hope you liked my fantasy castration film, would love to read other accounts.
Maybe someone will read yours and decide to make it for you! Please make
mine!)
* * * |
Transition Clinic | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION | Man finds ad for transistion clinic | ` Transformation `
I saw the ad in the local Underground Scene newspaper. I said “Ultimate
Transformations”. It had a local number and business hours. I was curious yet
a bit anxious given some of my desires. I grew up in a normal setting, yet was
anything from normal. I hate being male. My life has always be focused on how
to become female and get rid of that ugly piece of meat between my legs. I
can’t believe how many times I actually tried to neuter myself when riding a
bicycle. I constantly borrowed my moms and sisters clothes from the hamper.
When I was old enough to get a job I started secretly buy my own women’s
clothes. I read every Internet site about natural hormones. I take Black
Cohash and other herbs to increase my estrogen levels. I have only noticed a
ever so small affect in my breasts. I think hopeful thinking is clouding my
vision.
So I called the clinic. A very nice sounding woman answered the phone and
explained the clinic was staffed by a doctor and a registered nurse. In
addition the clinic was set up to make sure insurance companies would cover
most of the procedures that were offered by the clinic. She commented that the
clinic was in business to facilitate the transformation of an individual into
what they desired. She commented that it would be best to make an appointment
to consult with the resident psychologist and the resident doctor. This would
cost $150 up front and from this consultation, a program would be devised to
make sure the transformation was completed.
I set the appointment for the next day at noon. The receptionist commented
that it would be appreciated if I were to come dressed in the clothes that
were most fitting to what I wanted to my life to reflect. In addition, she
instructed me to have all my body hair shaved off. This would be no problem,
given my light body hair and my routine shaving an use of Nair.
When I awoke on the morning of the appointment, I was nervous and excited. I
decided to have an early hair appointment with a manicure. My stylist could
sense that I was up to something different, so she style my hair with a nice
wave. She also made sure my face was made up to appear and naturally feminine
as possible. My finger nails and toe nails were painted in a burgundy red.
With a wink she gave me her usual “Go Girl Go”. I was in heaven. She whispered
in my ear, that she was thinking I should be her new lesbian partner. I
blushed and almost cried. We hugged and she gave me a light kiss.
I arrived at the clinic just before my appointed time. The receptionist,Trish,
greeted me and asked if I was Tom. She smiled and commented that it appeared
that the direction of my transformation was very clear. She complimented my
choice of clothes and the wonderful hair style I filled out the forms, dealing
with health issues, insurance data. When I was finished I gave Trish the forms
and the initial payment. After Trish filed all the papers and check, she asked
if I wanted the staff to address me by another name. I smiled and told her
that I really loved the name Gweneth, or Gwen. She said Gwen was a beautiful
name and that would be what I would be called from that point.
I didn’t realize that that was going to be more fact than fiction.
I waited for aout five minutes before my name was called by the nurse. “Gwen
are you ready for you consultation.?” I smiled and she told me to not be
nervous, this was just a time to have the doctor examine me and then have a
consultation. The nurse, Nancy, led me to an exam room, she told me to take
off all my clothes and put on the standard exam gown. She told me to but it on
with the ties in the front. Fortunately the room was not too cold. I
undressed, being careful to hang my cloth up carefully. I unsnapped my bra and
looked in the mirror hoping to see even the smallest changes. I sat on the
exam table and waited. Dr. Johns knocked on the door and entered. I expected
the Dr. to be a man and was pleased that he was really a she. She introduced
herself as Judith. We exchange pleasantries and then she told me how we would
proceed. First she could see that I was a male that was dressed and was rather
successful in passing as a woman. She then told me she would examine me and
then we could talk prior to the consultation with her and the psychologist.
Judith told me to lay on my back and relax. She first took my blood pressure,
and heart rate. These appeared fine. She asked if I was on any medication
natural or prescribed. I commented on my herbal combinations telling her the
amounts and frequency I took them. She frowned and commented that, one I could
be doing some damage to my body and for the most part there was no chance that
I would see any changes in my exterior, breasts, or hips due to these
concoctions. She smiled and apologized for being harsh, “I just see too many
cases of individuals both men and women who get sucked into believing that
these herbal concoctions are a magic cure”.
“Ok enough with the preaching, let’s see what we have going on.” With that she
opened my garment and began examining my breasts. “Your nipples appear to be a
bit larger than expected, probably due to the herbs.” “You seem to have very
little fat and your waist is trim.” She then examined my cock. Her feminine
hands sent a shudder through me, and gave rise to the meat she was holding.
“Hmmm I see that you still have feeling down here” Now don’t be embarrassed,
what I really want to see is just how big it gets. I do this to see what kind
of material we will have to work with and to see if you are still potent. I
hope you don’t mind, but we will need a sample of your cum. Now I can help you
or I can leave you alone and let you produce the specimen. It appears you seem
to not mind that I help you. With that she gently caressed my cock into its
full 7 inches. “Nice, we should have plenty of material to develop genetalia
if that is what you want.” By this time she could have told me anything. I was
enthralled in this goddess stroking my cock. She looked into my eyes and
smiled, I can tell you love women.” Do you think you will be drawn to women if
you are made into one?” I looked at her and started to cry, I can’t see myself
as anything othere than a lesbian. With that she stopped her strocking and
lifted her skirt for me to see the most beautiful shaved pussy. She mounted
the table and lowered herself on top of my cock. She began to rock back and
forth, looking into my eyes. She slowed and made me become aware of what she
wanted to say. “ I want you to know that this will be your last male orgasm.
From now on you will begin the process of becoming a woman. Once you cum into
me, you will end all your existence as a male. You will live only as a woman
and when the time is right you will have SRS. Today will be your beginning ,
however this beginning will not be with out some pain. Are you ready to start
your transformation?”
I knew that it was now or never, I grabbed her hips and pleaded with her to
help me become a total woman. I told her that I wanted a pussy and boobs. She
smiled and told me to cum, in the most seductive way possible. I erupted like
never before. She hugged me as I came and told me that I would make a
wonderful lesbian lover. She giggled and said that, my sample would be a bit
unusable, however she was sure that it was ok. She dismounted me and went to
the sink, to clean herself up. She returned to the table with a warm cloth and
began to clean my spent cock.
“OK Gwen, get dressed, fix youe make up and go to room at the end of the hall.
We will meet with the psychologist and set up the process of your
transformation. Now I mentioned an issue with pain and this is something we
will go over in the session.” With that, Judith left me to get dress and
prepare myself for the next session.
When I entered the room I was greeted by a stunning red head, Amy, and Judith.
They told me to make myself comfortable, and asked if I wanted coffee or tea.
I asked for tea , which was brought to me. Amy started the conversation with a
description of the services the clinic offered. “We established this clinic to
serve the needs fo individuals that want to make major course changes in their
lives.. In some cases we work with women that want to become men. In other
cases we have men that want to become completely emasculated. That is to have
no sexual reference.” I gasped and Amy commented that there was a rather large
underground group of men that wanted to only experience sex from the point of
being the tool to provide it. The abhorred any sexual excitement. To them the
only use for there penis was to pass urine. Therefore a pee hole would suffice
for this purpose.” We do not recommend this transformation to everyone. In you
case we can see that you want to be transformed into a woman. Can you describe
what this means to you?”
With that I went into my long and arduous life history. How I had dressed, my
constant web searches in the area of the Transgendered. How I had researched
the various surgical methods and providers. My network of TS and TV friends, I
told them how I worked like a maniac to build a business, so I could have the
money for a wardrobe and even for the possibility of traveling to a country
where SRS would be easier to acquire than here in the US. By the time I was
finished I was exhausted and assuemed they were also exhausted listening to
me. Judith and Amy conferred quietly, and then announced that they would help
me on my journey.
“First we need to prescribe an effective hormone treatment” Before you leave
we will give you a shot that will start your treatment. We recommend that you
take hormone shots, fro various reasons. One they are more effective in
creating the secondary sex traits. Second they have less side affects. We can
monitor your blood chemistry and make changes to your dosages. Now if you want
to have larger breasts, we can easily set up to have them surgically
augmented. In addition, we will probably recommend that you have some surgery
to change your facial features. Now we also recommend that you have your
testicles removed.” I must have looked a bit shocked. “We know that this is a
major change, however if you want to see the affects without having anti
testosterone drugs, we feel this is the best process. We would not be making
this recommendation if we didn’t think you should have this done.
I asked when did they want to have this done. To my surprise they said,
“Tonight.” “We want you to come back here at 7pm sharp. You will be dressed
very simply. Don’t worry we will take care of the costume.” I looked at them
and they looked very serious. “Gwen you are going to become a woman, with all
the attributes, except for one. That being you will never enjoy the pleasure
or the pain of giving birth to a child. In our minds we are giving you the
gift of becoming a woman. In exchange we require you experience some of the
pain a woman goes through to bear children.” With that they became quiet. “Do
you want to be transformed?” I began to cry and said yes.
They both broke into smiles and said good. They told me to relax and called
the nurse to bring in the meds. The nurse brought in a tray with swabs, and a
syringe that looked like it was to be used on a horse. “Now this may sting,
but you will thank us. And by the way, (as Judith gored me) I want you to toss
all those stupid herbal treatments away. I will be having you do blood tests
and will be very angry if I see any of that horse shit in your system.”
We both laughed as I rubbed my sore arm.
“Now go home relax and show up here at 7pm. Only eat a very light snack.”
I went home and quickly changed. I noticed that there were messages on my
machine. The first was from Sarah, my stylist. She wanted to know how I was
and did I have any news. The second was from an investment firm representing a
potential buyer of my company. They were happy to confirm the value and terms
of the acquisition. From my perspective, being free of this company was great
and having about $70 million after tax in an offshore account was not bad
either. The other calls were from friends telling me about TS meetings and if
I was going to be in attendance. I called back my friends and told them I was
not going to make the meeting tonight, but would be in touch and had some
surprises for them.
I called the investment firm and told them to forward the contracts to my
attorney and I would sign them ASAP after they did the last check of the
terms. I told them I was very pleased with the deal.
I called the clinic and asked to talk with Judith. Judith answered and told me
that she was so pleased with my decision. I told her that they did not need to
use my insurance, because I would be paying cash for all the treatments. She
commented that this would be fine and would have a firm estimate on the cost
of the program. I told her that my only concern was that I looked as beautiful
as her. She said “no problem”. I asked her about tonight, and what I would
need to do for recovery. She giggled and said, “you will need some TLC for
about two days.” I commented that I may do this at my beach house. She
reminded me to wear loose clothes and be back at the clinic in 3 hrs.
After hanging up, I called Sarah, she was excited that I called and was
interested in talking about whatever I was going to do. I told her that I was
going for a special treatment at 7pm. She said she would be over in 10 minutes
to have a girl chat.
Sarah arrive in no time, I was just finishing taking off my clothe, so I threw
on a robe to let her in for our chat. I was given a nice surprise when she
hugged me and gave me a kiss. We went into the living room for our chat. I
started out the conversation by telling her that I had decided to go forward
and have the complete program of surgeries that would change me into a
physical woman. Sarah smiled and then began to cry. She said that she was so
happy for me. I then told her that I was starting the process at this clinic
and that my first procedure would be tonight. She looked surprised and asked
what was going to be done. I took a big breath and told her that I was going
to be castrated, as in having my balls removed. I then told her that it was
supposed to be in a painful way, so that I could experience some of the pain
that women experience in child birth. She gasped again and then looked a
little sheepish. She asked, “Is it possible for me to watch?” I told her that
I really didn’t know what was going to happen or who would be there. She told
me that she loved me and wanted to be part of this whole process. She smiled
and told me that if I let her watch, I could expect some wonderful times after
those little things were gone. She commented that she would think of the
remaining part as a really big clit. I decided then that I would call Judith
and tell her that Sarah would be joining us as tonight. Judith was happy that
I had the support and commented that Sarah would be welcomed, she asked if
Sarah was there and if she could talk to her. I handed the phone to Sarah.
After about 5 min. of talking Sarah was smiling and told me that she was going
to be there as a participant, and that she was going to be my TLC provider for
the whole program of Transformation.
As 7 pm approached, I began to get nervous. I knew this was going to be the
beginning of a truly wonderful life, however I was afraid of the notion of
pain. The notion of a painful castration was beginning to concern me. Sarah
for her part was reassuring me that I was going to be alright. That she would
be there and was going to be with me always. She reached for my hand and
brought me to her. I could feel here breasts against me and realized how much
I wanted breasts. I told her that I wanted her to be my lesbian lover.
At 6:30 we left my apartment and headed for the clinic. It was at this point I
told Sarah that I was selling my company, and wanted her to stay with me at my
beach house. She smiled and told me that Judith was adamant that I give you
TLC for the next couple of days. She commented that while I was taking a pee
she called her salon and to have her appointments rescheduled.
The Evening:
When we arrived at the Clinic, Judith met us, she was dressed in Goddess
clothes, High healed boots, Black leather bustier, and a black leather mini.
She told Sarah that her clothes and my outfit were in the clinic. She smiled
at me and told me that everything was set up for my new life. She also
commented, that as a doctor, she would make sure nothing done tonight would
create a danger to my health. She just wanted to have a ceremony that made my
transition to being female memorable.
I was given an outfit that consisted of a white bustier, white garter, white
stockings, white 4 inch pumps and a white thong. I was given a long white robe
to wear. Sarah was given an outfit like mine but in red. We used Judith’s SUV
to drive to her house which was a small mansion. She commented that she had a
fully equipped medical office and a wonderful dungeon. She also commented that
there would be additional entertainment tonight. On of there clients has asked
for a penectomy, and in a very painful way. We decided that you might enjoy
this little festivity before you event. I squirmed in my seat. Judith
reassured me that my event was going to not be as painful and that my
castration was intended to salvage the scrotum for use in the SRS surgery. I
asked if she could tell me wha they were going to do to the other person. She
responded that they were going to have some fun with wire and her dogs.
When we arrive we were by another Dom who was dressed in black. She greeted us
and told us to follow her to the dungeon. The dungeon seemed to be the size of
a ballroom. It had 10 foot ceilings. The wall was covered with equipment
ranging from bondage and constraint devices to varying styles of crops and
paddles. We were seated next to a very formidable St Andrews cross. Arranged
in front of the Cross were several tables rolling medical trays and a
formidable devise that stood at least 9 feet tall. The Device looked like a
small oil derrick. It had a exterior trap platform that had a large weight
attached. Below this was a net. Attached to the weight was a study steel cable
that went over the top of the derrick on a roller. At the end of the cable
there was a clip.
After a few minutes Judith and the other Dom entered the room leading a man
that was nude and blindfolded. The man had a collar and hand and ankle
constraints. He was led to the cross and they proceeded to attach the
constraint sot the cross, so that he was facing out. Judith roughly pulled off
his blind fold and asked him if he was ready to lose his pathetic cock and
ball. He said yes. Judith looked over to me and told me to rise and come over
to the cross. I complied and went to her. She began by saying “Gwen, today you
have decided to make the wonderful transition in to the world of womanhood.
One of the unfortunate aspects is to service men either out of desire,
compassion or to fulfill their pathetic needs. As I serviced you today, I am
asking you to service this puke tonight.” She then told me to knell before the
victim a service him. She leaned over and whispered that his blood had been
tested and he was completely free of all viruses. I looked over to Sarah and
she nodded with a smile.
As requested I knelt before this doomed victim and began to give him oral
pleasure. I massaged his soon to be destroyed ball and could feel him begin
the rise to his very last orgasm. As I felt his muscles tense I forced his
cock down my throat to receive his last outpouring of manhood. Just as he was
about to erupt Judith pulled me away and grabbed his ball sack. She took a
long piano wire that had a loop at one end. She handed the wire to me and told
me to gore his balls which she was holding. I took the wire and forced it into
the scrotum and began pushing them through his balls. The wire slid easily
through and emerged from the other side of his ball sack. I looked up and saw
that his eyes were about to pop out. Judith then told me to continue my
sucking. He quickly regained size and was again beginning to approach orgasm.
Judith again pull me away and told me to stand by the derrick. She then took
out a package and removed a sterile catheter. She inserted it into the man’s
penis. She then asked Sarah to come over to the man. Judith then handed Sarah
another section of piano wire that has a loop on the end. She grabbed the mans
cock by the head and told Sarah to impale the mans penis at its base in the
same way I had done. Sarah inserted the wire so that it went below the
catheter. Judith told Sarah to take the end of the wire and pass it through
the end loop so that it was cinched over the top of the penis. Sarah was then
instructed to do the same thing to the wire passing through the balls. Judith
then took the end of the wires and handed them to me. She told me to loop them
through the clip attached to the cable, then twist them so that that the wire
was not slack and they were secure. She then turned to the victim and told him
that one way or another the wire would come out. She then took out a length of
string and tightly secured the base of the mans penis, thereby cutting off
blood flow. His penis looked like a swollen sausage. Judith then applied a
generous amount of lubricants to the mans penis and told Sarah to bring him to
orgasm. Judith told me that I would pull the cord on command. The man was in a
state of pain and pleasure as Sarah massaged his doomed cock. Judith noticed
his impending eruption and told him to enjoy it because he would be forever
nullified with this last eruption. Just as he was beginning to cum Judith told
Sarah to back away, leaving the man to look at Judith with pleading eyes. She
looked to me as I saw the first spasm produce a white rope of cum, she nodded
and I pulled the lever. Immediately the weight plummeted pulling the cable,
which was followed by a shriek of pain. The loops of wire lay on the ground.
The mans ball were an sliced in half as was his cock. Judith put on her latex
gloves looked at the man who was weeping, and picked up a large and very sharp
butcher knife. She grabbed the bloody mass and with on movement severed the
cock and ball sack just before the secured tounnecut. The man shrieked again
and began to cry as she held up the freshly butcher meat. She then told the
other Dom to release the dog, who came running into the room and sat before
Judith. Judith then looked at the weeping man and told him to watch as she fed
the mangled mass to her dog.
With this the man knew that his destiny was sealed. Judith released the man
from his constraints, she had me help him onto an awaiting gurney. She looked
at the man and told him that he would be taken care of now. He would now begin
to life of total emasculation and never again stand to pee.
After he left two maids came in to clean area. They wheeled away the derrick,
and wheeled in new carts and tables. One of them looked like a custom butchers
table that was set on adjustable legs. On the other table there was a portable
cooking unit and small sauté pan. There was meat tenderizer mallet as well as
an assortment of spices and herbs.
Judith looked at me and said quietly that it was now my time to begin the
transformation. Judith asked Sarah to go over to the wall and get 4
constraints that would be put on my wrists and ankles. Sarah chose 4 that had
lambs wool lining. Judith smiled and said that was fine. The then placed the
constraints on my wrists and ankles. I was told to remove my robe and thong.
I complied and then without hesitation went to the cross and faced my future.
Sarah was told to secure my constraints to the cross. I have never experienced
the sensation of be spread out. I felt very vunerable at this moment.
Judith approached me and began to explain my fate. First I have decided that
you will cum one last time. The purpose of this is so that we can save you
seed for Sarah. She loves you very much and want to have a child from you
seed. She just can’t bear to have a man with balls penetrate her. So we will
collect you sperm and freeze it for future use. I nodded and looked and a
teary eyed Sarah. With this Judith told Sarah to stoke me to the point of
eruption. Sarah did this almost immediately. She smiled and told me that it
would be so great to have my baby and that we could both be mothers. I was
quickly brought to the brink, Judith quickly brought over a sterile medical
tube and placed it at the end of my swollen head. I shot what seemed like a
never ending load. She put a stopper into the tube and handed it to one of the
maids with the instruction to have the nurse place it immediately in the sperm
freeze under my section.
Judith then turned to me and said it was now time for me to understand the
pain women feel when giving birth. She then had Sarah stand back as the
customized butcher’s table was brought over. She adjusted the height so that
it fit under my genitals. Judith then put on her surgical gloves and picked up
a sterilized scalpel. She roughly grabbed my ball sack and quickly made two
incisions, one on each side of my scrotum. I winced as the burning pain
registered. She then pick up a tray and placed it under my bleeding sack. She
turned to Sarah and asked her if she wanted to help, Sarah looked at me and I
nodded. Judith told her to pop each ball out of the sack. As she did this I
immediately was jolted as the raw testicle still attached to the cords hit the
cold stainless steal tray. Judith then picked up the left testicle and pulled
so that the cord stretched completely out of my sack. She then crimped the
cords so that there would be little blood loss. She commented that, I should
be in some serious pain at this time. I nodded as tears were beginning to
fall. Judith did the same crimping to the cord of my right testicle. She then
took some surgical thread and permanently tied off my cords. She then looked
at me and said, “Say goodbye to these pathetic things. From this point they
are completely useless. I tied the cords off so that they would die even if I
put them back into the sack.
Judith then told Sarah to turn on the portable stove and heat up the sauté
pan. She wanted it to be very hot.
Judith then picked up my balls and removed the steel pan and them placed them
on the butcher block. She told Sarah to bring over the tray that had the
mallet and seasonings. Sarah wheeled this tray over to Judith. Judith then
told Sarah that she could have the honors of tenderizing the dinner treats.
Sarah picked up the mallet while Judith watched. Sarah looked at me and them
proceeded to pound my testicles to a flat mash. I thought I was being kneed,
gored at the same time. I shrieked like a girl. Judith told Sarah that the
dinner looked well tenderized. She told her to use the seasoning liberally
this included salt, pepper, chili pepper and other spices. Judith them told
Sarah to cut the cords and use the spatula to lift my mangled ball off the
block. The next sensation was the smell of my testicles being fried in olive
oil.
After the two finished eating my lost balls with wine, I was released from my
cross and taken to surgery. They cleaned the sack and inserted two synthetic
balls in to the sack. Judith explained that she wanted the sack to stay
healthy. She would be using it for my SRS surgery. I was then released into
Sarah’s care for recuperation.
To be continued.
* * * |
Jewel (straight) | Jewel
by Martin Cooper
It was after a hard rugby game, we had showered and changed had all been
drinking at the sports club: everyone thought that I was drunk; but it wasnt
that - it was the bravado, _machismo_ boisterousness that happens to men when
in a group. As usual we sat near to the boxing ring in which a pretty young
blonde girl was gyrating bare-foot to pop music and we were making rather
childish wolf whistles and lewd remarks. But this girl was something very
special. She was only young - but she must have been over sixteen to get into
the club. She was short, petite, and delightfully slender of body as only
young girls can be: with very slender milk-white thighs, visible under her
black cirrťe mini-skirt, slender hips, and well shaped breasts which moved
under her white silk blouse. I looked at her carefully and was completely
captivated by her face and her beautiful blue eyes; it was the face of an
angel:- I have never seen a girl so pretty. Her face was framed by two thick
blonde plaits with the bunches at the ends resting on her bosom. I caught her
eye and she smiled at me in a way that I thought had stopped my heart! I was
in love but not having had a woman for a long time, I also had an erection -
It was love and _lust_! She looked me straight in the eye and, grinning, she
lifted her skirt to reveal a triangle of tight, shiny wet-look panty: I have a
weakness for shiny panties and I _needed_ to grope them. Before I knew what I
was doing I had climbed into the ring, pulled down my shorts to reveal my
penis like an iron bar, and shouted "Give a dog a bone!" I would have raped
her there and then in the ring if my mates hadnt pulled me off.
I sat down and my mates and their girl-friends told me what a prat I had been
and how ashamed I should be of myself. And believe you me, I was terribly
ashamed. Later on a pretty young girl, another of the dancers I suppose, came
and whispered in my ear: "Do you want to take part in a gang-bang in the ring
later-on?" She looked nice and I was desperate to relieve my frustration so I
said "Yes". I was embarrassed but my balls felt tight: nice girl or not. I
looked forward to the prospect of pussy so much that I had a hard-on for the
rest of the evening until the nice girl came to fetch me. She took me to the
changing rooms and explained that she was actually to be the referee and
introduced me to the three other men: - there were to be four men to one girl
who wanted to be gang-raped. As we changed into the scanty briefs that she had
given us I looked at the other three men. One guy was six-foot six and heavily
muscled, he must have been a life-guard or something and I knew I would have
to give-way to him in the mÍlťe! Another was a re-head, smaller, more my size,
but again he looked fitter than me. And finally there was a smaller barrel-
chested guy who would be able to crush anyone who got near him. I realised
that in the spectacle to come I had no chance against any of these three and I
would have to come last, taking whatever crumbs these guys threw me after they
had finished.
The four of us were in the four corners of the boxing ring when the nice girl
came in and announced the event. It was to be disguised as a wrestling match
with five of us against each-other, the winner being the one left standing at
the end - no holds barred! She announced "Jewel from New York, USA!" I was
staggered when the disco-dancing little angel stepped into the ring, dressed
exactly as she had been before - and she gave me such a stunning smile that I
loved her! She looked so sweet, innocent and _vulnerable_ that I felt sorry
for her - but my balls were aching by now. There was no time to think because
the bell went for "round one" and before I knew what has happened Jewel rushed
towards me, she swivelled around on one foot and delivered a backwards kick in
my chest that sent me sprawling in my corner. I recovered my astonishment and
was about to get up when I saw what happened to the big guy. She met him half-
way and showed him panty: while he oggled she drew him onto her - delivering a
sickening thud between his legs with her knee. A look of complete astonishment
came over his face as he screamed, held his stricken balls and fell down,
writhing on his back in terrible pain. I stayed where I was! Barrel-chest had
come-up behind her and was about to crush her, but she was too quick for him
and a karate blow to the neck neatly pole-axed him: he hit the canvas a stayed
there. Red-head didnt last long either: he ran around the ring in a panic but
she caught him, put him in an arm-lock and propelled him headlong into the
corner where his head smacked hard against the padding and he went down to lie
alarmingly still. She finished the big guy-off by stamping on his head.
Jewel came for me while I was still down, I knew that she had singled me out
for special treatment and I was terrified to stand up and take a beating from
a girl. In a panic I tried to get up and run but she got me in a hold with
both legs around my neck and it hurt like hell! I cried out "Submit, I
submit!" and I heard my voice reverberate around the room from the PA. She
twisted me around until I faced her and pulled up her skirt so that my face
was between her delightful thighs and in her tantalising panties, then forced
my head back so that the cameras could see my face and her female triangle.
"Ill let you submit if you lick my panties" Jewel said. I had no choice
either physically or emotionally. I looked at the softness of her thighs, the
inviting tight little triangle of panty showing the shape of her lips beneath,
and the large firm Mound of Venus above it. I was sick with lust and with my
face scarlet with shame I made sure my tongue was dry before I licked her
milky-white rounded thighs, then the hard mound, enjoying the feeling of the
firmness covered in slick, silky material, then moaned loudly as I moved down
to part her lips so that the smooth material was all that prevented me from
pushing my tongue inside her. She giggled girlishly and winsomely.
Jewel stood up and held her hands together over her head in triumph as the
nice girl announced "End of round one: three knock-outs and a submission to
the girl! I was beside myself with shame as she grinned at me and watched me
grovel, unable to stop myself looking up her skirt in impotent misery.
I didnt want to come out of my corner for the second round but I couldnt
think of anything else to do. There was hardly a tussle before I was shocked
to feel her hand on my crotch and suddenly Jewel had me by the bollocks! "I
Submit!" I shouted, but she said "Oh, not yet!" and manoeuvred me to the ropes
where she squeezed my balls until I squealed and obeyed her commands to tie
myself into the ropes. She pulled-down my briefs to reveal my disgraced
manhood - still as hard as an iron bar (I had never had such a hard-on) and
then she kissed me! We kissed for several minutes until my breath was ragged
as she entwined her tongue in mine. Jewel undid her blouse and allowed her
exquisitely shaped breasts to squash against my chest and I groped her skirt -
feeling the smooth cirrťe rubbing over the silky panty covering the firm
globes of her bottom. I was gagging with lust as she raised the front of her
skirt so that my prick pressed against the wonderful hard knicker-clad mound
and my balls rested on silk-covered pussy. I thought I would die of wanting my
conqueress. "Please, Jewel, give me pussy: Ill beg!" I shouted. But she just
squeezed my balls until I screamed "Mercy, mercy, _please!"_ and then she let-
go and pulled me onto her. I thought I would lose my spunk there and then but
she manoeuvred me until the cameras could see my penis lying across her shiny
panty-clad belly and my balls in her hand and then she jiggled my balls,
squeezing lightly. I couldnt resist. I screamed "Panty, on Panty!" We both
watched as she pushed the head of my penis into the silky fabric between her
vulvas. My testicles felt full-to-bursting and I knew I was done-for: I groped
her bottom, my back arched; I bit one of her plaits in helpless passion; I
grunted like a pig; I lost control of myself bucking and shouting PANTEEEEES!"
I looked into her face and saw that she was actually _laughing at me_ \-
giggling in my face scornfully. What finally pushed me over the edge was when
I looked into Jewels eyes and I saw triumph and pride in her victory over me:
it was so utterly humiliating to be beaten by such pretty girl. I couldnt
help it: I unloaded my awful male shame all over her panties. The feeling of
the soft spunk-slick panty pressed against my _glans_ was the most amazingly
enticing experience I have ever had and I could feel the semen coursing along
the length of my shaft as I continued to splosh out my dreadful humiliation
time and time again in an unstoppable spasm while Jewel laughed in my face, oh
so prettily! I shuddered and moaned and groped her skirt and panty in
delirious satisfaction. When I was done she stood back and simply said "Are
you beaten? I could have killed you, you know - or _castrated_ you, any time I
wanted!" She saw me harden at the mention of the awfully embarrassing word and
giggled again. I looked at her pretty little face and blushed as I said "You
have beaten me!" I hung my head in shame. The nice girl announced "In the
second round a submission to Jewel. Altogether the girl wins with three knock-
outs and two submissions. Female defeats four males in combat. A round of
applause for the crushed males!" I sagged in the ropes and hung my head in
utter defeat and abject humiliation. I felt amazingly satisfied and relaxed: I
just wanted to lie with chest against Jewels breasts looking at her lovely
face while my penis rested against her panty;- with my balls in her hand.
Jewel strutted around the ring lifting her skirt to show-off my masculine
shame soiling her panties. She had also rubbed some spunk on her tits to stop
it running down her leg. When she came back to me I couldnt look her in the
eye. I still had a hard-on as she grasped my bollocks again. I wondered - what
she would do to me now? After all, the winner is entitled to the trophies and
my conquering love had them in her pretty little hand: I looked at her sweet
little face and suddenly I _wanted_ to see her smile in the _final_ victory,
in the _ultimate_ conquest of female over male. As the nice girl handed her
the knife I lay quietly, then I kissed Jewel tenderly and she responded
lovingly .. she smiled . I bit her plait.. |
||
The Emasculation of Bill...Chapters 1 & 2 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES, cock'n'ball-nipple torture, scat mentioned. | This is the true story of how I took total control of a man for 7 years and eventually castrated him. It was a wonderful experience and we are still together and happy. | The Emasculation of Bill
Chapter One
Hi, my name is Shelley and this is the story of how I took total control of a
man and eventually castrated him. This takes place over a period of nearly 7
years and it was a wonderful trip for me. I must say that I enjoyed every
minute of it and he did too. In fact, we both still enjoy it.
It all started while I was a stripper in a local club. I was 33 years old and
had been dancing for a number of years and always made pretty good money doing
it. I’ve got a couple of kids and it was the only way I could make enough
money. I’m pretty hot to look at with long red hair and a well trimmed bush to
match. I’ve got large breasts with prominent pink nipples, nice legs with
small ankles and the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen.
Anyway, Bill started coming in occasionally and we hit it off right away. He
was a friend of the Club’s owner and they would sit at the bar, drinking
coffee and talking. I would always make it a point to stop by and flirt a
little bit. He was a pretty cute guy for being around 50 and I’d always rub my
breasts against him and ask him if he’d like a private dance. He’d always give
me a hug and slip a $20 in my garter but he would pass on the dance.
Well, one night he came in and the owner wasn’t in but he went to the bar
anyway and started drinking beer. I said hi but didn’t stop because we were
busy and I needed to make some money. It finally slowed down a couple of hours
later and I saw he was still at the bar. I thought I’d say hi again, rub my
boobs against him and maybe get another $20 to add to my already good day.
He had been drinking for a couple of hours by then and had a pretty good buzz
on. He gave me a big hug and put a $50 in my bra. I hugged him back and asked
if he’d like that dance finally. To my surprise he said yes and I grabbed his
hand and drug him back to the private dance area. It was empty. We were the
only couple back there. He must have bought 20 dances from me at $25 a dance.
He didn’t even want me to dance, he just wanted to talk and look at my pussy,
tits and ass. Finally, the club was getting ready to close and I asked him if
he’s like to meet at an all night diner and he could buy me an early
breakfast. He said of course he would.
We got to the diner around 3am, ate breakfast and talked until dawn. He told
me that he really liked me and was looking for a lady that could help him with
his extremely kinky fetishes. He would be willing to do a lot of things for
that lady. I knew he was pretty well off and had made a lot of money in the
automobile business. Plus, he was a really nice-looking man and he was in very
good shape. Not a hunk, but a handsome guy with a nice way about him and a
great sense of humor.
As we continued talking, I asked him what kind of fetishes was he talking
about. He told me that he had this desire to be abused and used by a woman or
women. He couldn’t put it into words precisely but he had tried hiring
professional Dommes with no success and was pretty much giving up hope of ever
finding the right lady and was about ready to relegate these desires to his
fantasy world.
I told him that I didn’t know if I was what he was looking for but I did have
a bit of a dominant streak and I loved kinky sex. I didn’t know if I was a
sadist or not but the thought of doing certain things excited me. Plus, I was
recently divorced and didn’t have anyone in my life. We were both single and I
was attracted to him and he was obviously attracted to me or at least he was
nuts about my pussy and tits.
We made a date for the coming Sunday afternoon. He had a house on the local
lake and we decided to meet there at 3pm. He gave me directions and the code
to his gate. We were both tired and decided to call it a night, or morning as
was more appropriate.
I got home, climbed into bed and wondered where this would lead…….I’d always
had thoughts of dominating a man and doing kinky things to him on my terms but
I had never acted on them. Mostly it had been boring vanilla sex with a
limited number of guys, most of them pretty forgettable.
When I woke up that afternoon, I got on the computer and started doing a
little research on the subject. Wow…….the internet was full of it and some of
it was pretty kinky. The more I read, the more I wanted to read. I must have
spent 4 or 5 hours on the computer and by the time I signed off my pussy was
dripping wet. A good sign that I liked this stuff………..
Chapter Two
Bill opened the door seconds after I rang the bell. I think he was eager. He
was dressed in lake casual, shorts, t-shirt and deck shoes. He looked kinda
cute. I didn’t know for sure what to wear so I brought a small bag with some
sexy club wear in it and I was wearing a mini-skirt, high heels, no panties
and a sexy halter top. He whistled and told me I looked gorgeous.
We chatted for a while and I admired his home. He had a great view of the lake
and the house was furnished very nicely. It looked to be about 4000 square
feet and had an all-glass wall for viewing the lake and sunsets. I was very
impressed. He asked if I would like a Mimosa to drink and celebrate our
getting together. We both had one, then another and, of course a few more
until the champagne was gone. I had a little bit of a buzz going and I could
tell he was a little tipsy also. He said he’d like to give me a tour of the
house. When we got upstairs he showed me the loft and a couple of bedrooms for
guests. He stopped in front of a big floor to ceiling mirror at the end of the
hall. He reached around the frame of the mirror and did something. The mirror
swung out of the way and behind it was a solid door with double deadbolt locks
on it. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. He turned on a light and
led me inside.
Wow……..it was a dungeon. The lighting was all subdued and the walls were
painted dark red. The floor was a plush black carpet and the room was very
large, probably 20 X 30 with it’s own bathroom and a walk-in closet at the
back of the room. All sorts of strange apparatus were in the room and there
were shelves filled with all sorts of devices, lubes, ropes, chains, cuffs,
collars and things that I had no idea what they were. I was nearly speechless.
I couldn’t think of anything to say except that I thought it was unbelievable.
Nobody would ever guess. He told me that this was his fantasy room and he
hoped I wasn’t turned off by it. Turned off, hell I was turned on. I knew this
was going to be fun.
I asked him what exactly did he think he wanted me to do. He sat me down on a
padded bench and then sat on the floor in front of me. He said he wanted to be
abused, humiliated and all of his sexual parts tortured. He wanted to drink my
pee, be smothered by my pussy and ass, be forced to lick my pussy and ass,
have steel rods shoved down his dick, have his nipples abused and rubbed raw,
have his balls crushed, slapped, punched, stepped-on, stretched, tied up,
kicked, beat and anything else I wanted to do to them. He wanted me to feel
like I owned him and could do, or make him do, anything I wanted. There would
be no ‘safe’ words or limits on what I wanted to do. I could bring other women
over, or send him to them, for whatever they wanted to do to him. He said he
felt like I would be the perfect woman for this and he said I was gorgeous and
had the type of personality he had been looking for.
I didn’t really know where to begin but I was excited about the prospect of it
all and knew I would figure it out. Plus, I was truly looking forward to doing
nasty things to him. I’ve always been a little dominant in my relationships
with everyone and the thought of causing pain to a man’s private parts was
making my pussy very wet.
I sat there for a long time, not saying anything, just thinking of how to get
started. Finally, I looked him in the eyes and told him to get naked and lay
on the floor, legs and arms spread. I also told him that whenever I did
anything to him, no matter what it was, he was to thank me by saying “Thank
you Miss Shelley” and accord the same courtesy to any of my lady friends. He
nodded his head in assent as he started taking his clothes off and lying down
on the floor. He looked pretty good naked. Nice chest hair and not too much of
it. A nice tan with bathing suit tan lines. A nice-sized cock, maybe a little
bigger than average. Of course, it was hard as a brick and that might have
helped the illusion. His balls were fairly large and tight against his body.
All of his pubic hair was shaved smooth. Not a hair from his belly button to
the crack of his butt. I was going to really enjoy this.
I stood up and walked over until I was straddling his chest. I could see his
eyes move to my pussy. I moved back a little and started rubbing my high heels
roughly over his cock and balls. He immediately started moaning. I rubbed a
little harder and his moans increased. His cock was as hard as a brick. I gave
him a few kicks in the balls and he kept his legs spread apart like he was
asking for more so I gave him some more. I was really loving all of this. He
kept thanking me every time my shoe kicked his balls. I could feel serious
sadistic tendencies welling up inside me. I wanted to hurt him and he wanted
me to. The perfect storm.
I told him to get up and I wanted to tie a rope around his cock and balls and
then I was going to lead him around the room and he was going to show me
everything and explain what it was for and how to use it. He eagerly jumped to
his feet and grabbed a piece of rope for me. I wound it very tightly around
his cock and balls and left myself about a 4 foot piece to lead him around.
He had quite the collection of equipment and toys: An old fashioned gyno exam
table with stirrups and belts to secure the subject to…A cock and ball torture
chair that he would sit backwards on and his cock and balls would protrude
through an opening and then they could be clamped in place… A massage table
with strategically placed holes that he could be tied down on and secured
until he was not able to move…. A leather sling that hung from the ceiling
that he could be put into… A cross in the shape on an X that he could be tied
to for whippings…. Numerous pulleys in the ceiling over the different pieces
of equipment….All sorts of rings in the floor, ceiling and walls that could be
used to secure him…. A large apparatus that consisted of 2 vertical bars about
7 feet high and a crossbar at the top that was about 6 feet wide and had an
electric hoist connected to a movable bar for hoisting him up in the air. It
also had numerous eyebolts for securing him upright in a spread-eagled
position…. Numerous face-sitting devices and also a toilet his head could be
secured into for golden showers. The shelves were filled with toys, ropes,
ball crushers, nipple clamps, dildos, whips, canes, vibrators, handcuffs,
ankle cuffs and ball and cock beating devices of all shapes and sizes. One
entire section was filled with medical equipment, including needles,
catheters, sounds, speculums, rubber gloves, alcohol pads, forceps, medical
restraints and lots more. The bathroom was fairly large and included a very
large, 4’ x 6’ tile shower. The closet was a small walk-in but there was
nothing in it. He explained that when he met the right lady he would fill it
with outfits, costumes, high heels, boots and nylons. He hoped I was that
lady. I assured him that I was. He told me that he would arrange for an
unlimited line of credit with a couple of shoe companies and also with 2 or 3
companies that specialized in sexy clothing, nylons, bodysuits and costumes. I
could go online and order whatever I wanted.
I led him back into the main room and told him that I wanted to really hurt
him right now and that, once I started, I wouldn’t quit until I was ready to
quit. He nodded his head and seemed eager to start. I thought to myself that
we’d see how big of a masochist he was in a few minutes.
I secured him into the gyno chair, with his legs in the stirrups. I took off
the rope I had tied around his cock and balls and replaced it with 4 or 5
small rubber donuts, of which he must have had over 100 in a box. They really
made his balls swell and they instantly started turning purple. I put a
blindfold over his eyes and went to the shelf and found a small whip, a wooden
meat tenderizer, a small rubber mallet and a medium-sized butt plug. I pulled
a small folding chair over between his spread legs and laid my implements of
torture on a small shelf under the exam table.
First thing I did was stick the butt plug in his mouth and tell him to lube it
up good with his saliva. I then jammed it into his ass while he moaned very
loudly. That prompted me to go over to a small stereo he had in the corner,
find a CD of Enya to listen to and turned the sound up very loud. I figured
that would drown out his cries and moans. I really didn’t want to listen to
him right then. I wanted to enjoy what I was going to do.
I looked over my toys and decided to start with the small whip. It was only
about 15 inches long but it must have had 30 leather lashes and felt fairly
heavy. I swung it into his nuts at about half strength. He twitched a bit and
thrust his balls forward for me. A good sign. I increased the strength and he
didn’t move, even though he was twitching and jumping with every blow. I
finally started swinging it with all my strength and he still didn’t move but
the jumping about had increased. I kept it up for perhaps 10 minutes before
switching to the wooden meat tenderizer. Wow, what a difference. I could feel
it impact each ball and he was trying to put his legs together and the moans
and cries were easy to hear over the stereo. I decided that I would work on
one ball at a time. I varied the intensity from a light tap to a very hard
blow and the tempo was about 3 seconds between blows. 10 minutes per testicle
seemed about right. By the time I finished with the second testicle you could
see that they were both swollen and getting bigger by the minute. How
exciting. His cock had shrunk quite a bit and I decided it needed some
attention so I went back over to the shelves and picked out a couple of thick
dowel rods that were about 12 inches long with black tape wrapped at one end.
They looked like they would make great cock beaters. As soon as I was back in
my chair I held his partially limp cock up with one hand and started beating
it with the smaller of the two dowel rods. Amazingly, it started to get hard
again. Go figure that out. I increased the blows and switched to the heavier
rod. It got harder yet. Wow, he really was into receiving pain and I was
finding a part of me that I didn’t know was there. I decided that every time
his cock started getting soft I would beat it hard again. Finally, I picked up
the rubber mallet. It was pretty heavy and the head was about 4 inches long
and 2 inches in diameter. I held his balls in my left hand and brought the
mallet down hard on his right testicle. He cried out in pain. I switched to
the smaller, left testicle and did the same to it. Once again he cried out. I
was getting so wet that I feared I would slip off the chair. I started a
steady tempo. First the right ball, then the left one. I increased the
strength of the blows until I was using almost all my power in every blow. His
cries had turned into screams and I could have cared less right then. I was
really into this and didn’t want to stop. His balls were both the size of
tennis balls by now and they were black and blue and starting to get mushy. I
finally stopped beating them and went back to beating his cock hard again. It
had also started turning black and blue. God, this was so much fun and I was
getting so horny that I couldn’t stand it any longer. I untied him, took off
his blindfold and told him to lay on his back. I was so ready and so horny.
I straddled his face and started to lower my wet pussy onto his face. I
couldn’t help but notice the tears streaming down his cheeks. I must have
caused him considerable pain, enough to bring tears to his eyes. For some
reason that made me feel very good.
I ground my sex onto his face and open mouth. I yelled at him to lick it good
or I’d beat his nuts until they split. He licked furiously and wave after wave
of unbelievable orgasms rippled through my body. My nipples were on fire and
my clit was throbbing. My God, these were the best orgasms of my entire life.
I was on fire with desire. I wanted to hurt him some more. I reached behind me
and grabbed his swollen balls and squeezed them as hard as I could. He licked
me faster and I kept squeezing. I have no idea how long this lasted but it had
to be at least an hour, maybe more. When I finally got up, his face was
covered with my juices and I noticed that he had cum all over his belly. He
looked up at me and smiled and told me thank you at least 50 times………Thank you
Miss Shelley, over and over. I was in heaven. This guy was not only allowing
me to abuse him but he was thanking me for it.
As soon as I stood up, I could feel the urge to pee. This was as good a time
as any, I thought. I told him to put his head in the potty because I really
had to pee. He eagerly crawled over to the potty and put his head in the
opening. I sat down and let my bladder go. I could look between my legs and
see my pee going into his open mouth. He swallowed all of it and then asked if
he could be my toilet paper. Duh, of course he could. It sure beat using that
nasty toilet paper. How handy it was going to be to have my own, private,
traveling toilet.
By now, it was after 6pm and we were both famished. Bill said he had some
steaks in the refrigerator, makings for a Caesar salad and some great French
bread. We broke open a bottle of red wine and he started fixing us dinner. He
turned out to be quite the cook and dinner was delicious. After eating we went
out to the deck with our glasses of wine to watch the sunset over the lake. It
was absolutely beautiful.
As we enjoyed the view, I asked him what he was expecting from this if we
stayed together for a long time. He said that if it worked out between us he
would take care of me in many ways. He’d buy me a house, a new car and set up
a trust fund so I would always have some income coming in. In return he wanted
me to keep doing what I had just done to him but he would like it to escalate
to more and more bizarre, painful and humiliating things. He didn’t know what
his limits were but he felt as though he didn’t have any. Despite his cries
and tears today, he loved every second of it and wanted more and more. He said
he had always felt that men’s sex organs were outside their body so women
could control them by easily causing pain to them.
On my way home that evening, I thought about all that had happened. I had
found a new guy that was pretty special. He was going to take care of me. He
wanted me to hurt him in any way I wanted and I had found out today that I
really enjoyed it. I couldn’t wait to get him tied down again and torture him
even more than I had. I was going to write scripts for every time I saw him
and they would be different every time. Inflicting pain on his cock and balls
had really turned me on and I loved peeing in his mouth and he even thanked me
for my pee.
Before I left, we had scheduled another session for the coming Wednesday
evening and he was hoping I could spend the night. I would find a sitter for
my 2 kids and would spend the next 3 days thinking up all sorts of diabolical
things to do to him. I was also going to order some stuff from those websites
tonight and get overnight delivery so I’d have them by the time I saw him
again. Just three days. I could hardly wait.
* * * |
Aunt Minna’s Burdizzo | TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Young sisters Iris and Callie learn what a burdizzo is for and how to use one. | Iris and her sister Callie had felt downcast for several days. Iris thirteen
and her sister Callie eleven lived with their aunt Minna, who had become their
legal guardian on her farm. They had changed schools and become friends with
their twelve year-old neighbor Rosalie. They were downcast because among aunt
Minna’s six goats was a young billy goat, he made life miserable for the girls
by getting out of his pen and chasing and butting them. They had been staying
in the house and had even taken to going through drawers when aunt Minna
wasn’t around. They found nothing unusual except for a shallow drawer in aunt
Minna’s office desk. There was a tool that looked to them like a large pliers,
whose jaws could fit around something round and large and ended with a
horizontal bar where the jaws met. The girls could say nothing because Aunt
Minna would know that they had pilfering in her desk drawer. Rosalie had been
telling them secrets at school about how lazy and mean her stepfather Ron was
to her mother and her. When her mother left home for work the Ron would get in
bed with her and force her to have sex and it made her sore she was tired of
it. Rosalie said that he would not bathe for days at a time and smelled bad
when he got of top of her and forced his dong into her. Iris and Callie didn’t
yet know that those pliers in Aunt Minna’s desk would solve both problems.
One morning Alex, Aunt Minna’s married son and the girl’s cousin drove up with
his friend. From windows in the house the girls watched Aunt Minna with the
help of the two men catch and tie up the billy goat. Aunt Minna came into the
house and went to her desk and got the pliers. The girls asked Minna what she
was going to do with that tool and she answered that she was going to fix the
billy goat. The girls asked if they could watch and Minna told them to stay
inside. Minna closed the door and in a moment stepped back inside and told
Iris and Callie, she had changed her mind and for them to come along and
watch. When Minna entered the pen with her nieces Alex’s friend asked, “Ma’am
are you going to let those girls watch what we’re going to do to this billy
goat?” Minna answered that they had to learn sometime and she was going to
explain everything as they went.
“This isn’t a pair of pliers its called a burdizzo and its used to get rid of
the billy goat’s balls without cutting. After we do this in a few days the
billy goat will leave the female goats along, quit fighting, and he won’t be
chasing and butting you girls anymore. Minna held the goat’s scrotum in her
hand to position it for the burdizzo, Iris asked, if just removing those balls
will do all that to him. Minna, answered yes and decided to have the girls
feel the scrotum and balls with the cords attached before and after she used
the burdizzo. With the scrotum in position Minna squeezed the handles of the
burdizzo together crushing both cords with a crunch, then she felt the scrotum
again to make sure she had crushed both cords. She had the girls feel the
scrotum so they would know how a successful castration felt. Aunt Minna told
the girls that’s all it took goat would leave the females alone, he wouldn’t
chase and butt the girls, and he wouldn’t stink when they made dinner out of
him. The girls watched the goat recover the next few days and his balls shrink
to nothing, and everything Aunt Minna said turned out to be true.
When Rosalie told the girls her stepfather was still forcing her to have sex
with him and Iris got an idea. Iris asked Minna and her if removing his balls
worked for the billy goat would it do the same for a man. Minna answered that
castration would do the same thing to a man as it did to a billy goat and
after a man is castrated he is called a eunuch. Iris decided there that she
and Callie would help their friend Rosalie and castrate Ron and make him a
eunuch. It would take a lot of planning for three girls to overcome a man and
some waiting for the right time.
One warm morning Ron lay in bed in his briefs dozing he had emptied his
bladder and had no reason to get up. His wife was going to be working all day
and he had everything to himself. While he dozed someone jumped on the bed
with him. He jerked awake and Rosalie’s friend Iris stood on her knees
straddling his chest. Iris was wearing a short dress and when she sat back on
his chest it rode up her legs and exposed her panty-covered crotch. Rosalie
and Callie were standing on each side of his bed wearing similar scanty
dresses. The first thing Iris said to Ron as he woke up was “we’re here to
have some fun,” Ron had been wanted to pop Iris and her sister Callie from the
first time he saw them visiting Rosalie. Iris pulled her dress off and let Ron
have a good look then she got off the bed to remove her panties and showed she
was growing a nice bush between her legs. Naked now and again straddling Ron
Iris playfully pinioned his hands back over his head while she pushed her bush
up to his face. While Ron enjoyed the teasing, Rosalie and Callie put strong
canvas straps on his hands. While he thought he would let the girls have their
fun they quickly went to the other end of the bed and put straps on his feet.
These straps were part of the preparations that the girls had set up in
advance. Iris got off Ron and the bed so the girls could put a final canvas
strap around the bed and holding him down at the waist. Since his legs were
tied down and spread the girls couldn’t get his briefs down so they got
scissors and cut them off. Ron still wasn’t worried, he thought the girls
would have to let him loose and then he would have fun having his way with
them.
All three girls were now naked and teasing him by crawling around over him and
this gave him a hard-on. The girls laughed and yelled ding-dong bell as they
jerked off his dick until he shot a load of cum. They waited about fifteen
minutes and again played ding-dong bell with his dick until it shot out a
smaller load of cum. Iris told Ron and the two girls it was time to fix him
and brought out Aunt Minna ‘s burdizzo. She had been studying Aunt Minna’s
livestock books and a human anatomy book and was confident that she could do
this castration with the assistance of Rosalie and Callie. She pulled down
Ron’s scrotum and felt the balls and the cord above. Ron was big enough that
they would have to crush each cord separately. All three girls squeezed on the
handles until they heard a loud crunch on first one ball then the other. They
had successfully made a eunuch out of Ron. No more getting into bed with
Rosalie and no getting to pop Iris and Callie. They would be careful choosing
the man who would get their virginity and knew they would never take any abuse
of a man.
Ron wouldn’t admit that three girls had overpowered and castrated him so he
made up a story about the unfortunate industrial accident that had deprived
him of manhood.
* * * |
Der Bademeister 9 - German Language | GAY, WARNING, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Zwei Jungen werden beim Sex in der Hallenbaddusche erwischt, fotographiert und mit den Photos erpresst, als willenlose Foltersklaven zur Verfügung zu stehen. Aber es kommt noch viel schlimmer.... | ` -------------------------------------------- `
Die Besitzurkunde
\--------------------------------------------
Kurze Zeit später setzte sich der Van dann auch schon in Bewegung und wir
fuhren wieder zum Bauernhof zurück. Drei von den Folterern saßen vorne und
drei blieben bei uns hinten und vergnügten sich damit, uns unsere Eier zu
kneten und uns mit den flachen Händen zu schlagen. Ich befand mich aber in
einem Zustand, in dem ich fast nichts mehr mitbekommen hatte. Einerseits war
ich noch immer von den stressigen vergangenen Tagen, dem Essensentzug und dem
extrem anstrengenden Fluchtversuch körperlich total am Ende. Aber noch viel
schlimmer war meine seelische Verfassung. Seit Tagen wurde ich missbraucht,
geschlagen, gequält, gedemütigt und bloßgestellt. Ich bin völlig hilflos und
schwach. Mein Wille zählt gar nichts, mein Leben zählt nichts. Sie können
alles mit mir machen, was sie wollen und ich habe überhaupt keinen Einfluss
darauf. Jeden Moment könnte einer von ihnen auf die Idee kommen mir meinen
Eier abzuschneiden. Und sie würden es wohl auch ohne zu zögern tun. Ja sie
würden dabei sogar noch jubeln, als ob meine Eier nicht mehr zu mir gehörten,
sondern schon in deren Besitz wären und es die absolute Vollendung für sie und
von mir wäre, wenn sie ab wären. Aber es sind doch meine Eier. Ich bin mit
ihnen geboren. Ich bin mit ihnen groß geworden. Ich habe sie über all die
Jahre gepflegt, gestreichelt und gewaschen, kurz ich habe sie großgezogen. Ich
habe schon immer gerne mit ihnen gespielt und sehr viel Spaß mit ihnen gehabt.
Sie fühlen sich einfach toll an, wenn man sie berührt, oder noch besser, wenn
jemand anderes sie berührt, die sechs Arschlöcher mal ausgenommen. Was war das
doch führ ein Gefühl, als Jan das erste mal in der Dusche meine Eier ergriffen
hatte. Sie haben mich zu einem jungen und schönen Mann gemacht, sie haben mich
zu dem gemacht, was ich bin. Ein aktiver, attraktiver, muskulöser und
sexgeiler Mann. Aber das werden die Typen vielleicht in den nächsten Stunden
zerstören, sie werden mir meine Männlichkeit, meinen größten Stolz nehmen. Das
dürfen sie nicht. Aber sie werden es früher oder später tun, da bin ich mir
ganz sicher. Aber sie dürfen es nicht tun. Ach, bitte, bitte lass mich die
nächsten Stunden heile und ohne Schmerzen überstehen und nimmt mir bitte nicht
meinen größten Besitz. Ich lass auch alle anderen Schmerzen über mich ergehen,
wenn ich nur ganz und ohne weitere Narben davonkomme.
Nach ca. 10 Minuten hielt der Van an und die Heckklappe wurde vom Bademeister
geöffnet. Sie lösten unsere Fußfesseln und halfen uns aus dem Wagen. Erst
jetzt merkte ich, dass mein Körper von den ganzen Schlägen total rot war. Auch
Jan hatte eine nicht mehr ganz gesunde rote Färbung an allen Körperteilen, die
man besonders gut schlagen konnte. Ich war so in Gedanken, dass ich davon fast
nichts mitbekommen hatte. Ich spürte auch kaum Schmerzen, zumindest waren es
nicht mehr so unerträgliche Schmerzen wie in den letzten Tagen. Jetzt sah ich
das erste mal seit der Flucht Jan in die Augen. Auch er war völlig lehr. Auch
sein Verstand schien ausgeschaltet zu sein. Er bewegte sich wie in Trance. Er
sah mich an zeigte aber keine Reaktion oder Emotion. Aber bei ihm war sein
Zustand noch viel verständlicher. Er ist schließlich noch über 30 Minuten
länger durch die Felder gerannt. Zusätzlich hatte er vor rund 60 Minuten noch
dutzende Nägel in seinem Körper stecken. Die Narben waren aber bereits
verkrustet. Aber es sah schlimm aus. Überall klebte vertrocknetes Blut an
seinem Körper und in seinem Hintern steckte immer noch der Pferdeschwanz. Aber
ihn schien das gar nicht zu stören.
„Los ihr Ferkel schnell zurück in den Stall!!!“ schrie einer von ihnen uns zu
und bekräftigte den Befehl durch einen leichten hieb mit einem Stock auf
unsere Rücken. Ein andere löste unsere Handfesseln und befahl uns auf die Knie
zu gehen und so weiter in Richtung Stall zu kriechen.
„Ihr seit Ferkel und ihr sollt auch wie Ferkel gehen.!“
So krochen wir in den uns schon bekannten Stall und wurden zu den Tierkäfigen
geführt. Zunächst ergriffen sie Jan, zerrten ihn in einen Schweinekäfig,
legten ihm die schwere Halskrause aus Stahl an, schlossen sie zu und ketteten
diese schließlich an beiden Seiten des Käfigs fest. Darüber hinaus ketteten
sie noch einen Ledergurt um Jans Tallie und ketteten auch diese an beiden
Seiten des Käfigs fest. So dass Jan dort auf Händen und Füßen kniend mit
seinem Kopf auf ungefähr 60cm Höhe ausharren musste. Vor ihm wurde ein Napf
mit Haferschleim und ein Napf mit Wasser gestellt, in die Jan auch sofort
griff und das Wasser aus der Hand trank und den Brei verschlang. Sie hatten
ihn wirklich schon so weit gebracht, dass er fast wie ein Schwein aß. Als
nächstes wurde ich genau wie Jan in die Nachbarzelle geschlossen und
festgekettet. Auch ich bekam zwei Näpfe und auch ich machte mich sofort über
sie her.
„Wir lassen euch jetzt eine Weile alleine, wir müssen noch etwas für euch
vorbereiten. Das wird eine ganz heiße Angelegenheit. Es wird euch gefallen!“
Darauf gingen sie weg, sie blieben aber im Stall, sie waren aber auf der
anderen Seite, so dass wir sie zwar hören konnten, sie aber nicht sehen
konnten, da allerlei Schrott im Stall rumlag. Er wurde wohl nicht mehr genutzt
und war nur noch so einen Art Schuppen. Zunächst war ich aber nur mit dem
Essen und dem trinken beschäftigt.. Nach viel zu kurzer Zeit waren aber die
Näpfe leer und ich sah zu Jan rüber. Er war im gleichen Moment fertig und sah
zu mir rüber. Die Käfige waren sehr klein, so dass ich fast neben Jan kniete.
So konnte ich locker unter dem Gitter zu Jans Hand greifen und sie fassen.
Sofort durchdrang mich einer wohliger Schauer. Die Welt war nur noch halb so
schlimm. Auch Jan genoss die Berührung sichtlich. Ich konnte sehen, wie sich
sein Ständer aufstellte. Als ich das sah stellte sich auch sofort mein kleiner
Ständer auf. So blöd es auch klingen mag, es war schön, es war sehr schön. Es
war einer der intensivsten Berührungen, die ich je erlebt hatte.
Nach 10 Minuten fragte mich Jan schließlich: „ Wie geht es dir?“
„Immer noch scheiße!“
„Mir auch, ich kann nicht mehr, ich will nach Hause.“
„Ich auch! Was machen deine Wunden?“
„Die merke ich kaum noch, sie sehen schlimmer aus als sie sind. Ich spüre nur
jeden verflixten Muskel in meinem Körper. Sie haben mich echt wie einen Hasen
gejagt. Immer wieder schnitten sie mir mit dem Wagen den Weg zum Ort ab, so
dass ich mich wieder vom Ort entfernen musste. Sie haben sich permanent über
Handy abgesprochen und die Jagd perfekt durchgeführt. Ich hatte wirklich keine
Chance.“
„Das tut mir leid. Es wäre schön gewesen, wenn du es geschafft hättest.“
„Ja das wäre toll gewesen. Aber Scheiße, Scheiße!“ es rannen einige Tränen von
Jans tief roter Wange.
„Meinst du sie werden uns für den Fluchtversuch bestrafen?“ fragte Jan mich
nach einiger Zeit.
„Bestimmt! Die Frage ist nur wie. Hoffentlich lassen sie uns ganz und uns
droht nicht so ein Schicksal wie Kevin. Wie geht es ihm wohl, und wo ist er?“
„Keine Ahnung, aber wie sollte es ihm gut gehen, er hat keinen Schwanz mehr.
Wie sollte er da jemals wieder froh werden?“
„Ist mir schon klar, aber haben sie ihm noch mehr angetan, ist er im
Krankenhaus, ist er Zuhause oder wird er irgendwo von ihnen gefangengehalten?
Das meine ich damit, dass es ihm nicht wirklich gut gehen kann ist mir schon
klar!“
„Ja entschuldige, aber ich hab keine Ahnung wo er sein könnte. Viel wichtiger
ist, was sie jetzt mit uns vor haben?“
„Ich habe eine schreckliche Vorahnung. Vielleicht wollen sie uns brandmarken.
Er hatte doch so stark betont, dass es eine heiße Sache werden sollte.“
„Scheiße, du hast recht. Scheiße! Ich hab schon mal im Fernsehen gesehen, wie
sie ein Pferd markiert hatten. Es muss total weh tun. Das Fleisch verbrennt
dabei ja förmlich.“
„Mir ist mal ein Sylvesterböller in meiner Hand losgegangen. Zum Glück hat er
nicht geknallt, er ist nur nach Hinten losgegangen, er hatte dabei aber meine
Handinnenfläche verbrannt, und es hatte wirklich tagelang höllisch weh getan.
Und das war nur eine Brandverletzung die keine bleibende Narbe hinterließ, wie
muss dann erst eine weh tun, die bleibende Spuren hinterlässt“
„Scheiße, Scheiße. Aber lass uns lieber von etwas anderem reden, von etwas
erfreulicherem. Wo wohnst du zum Beispiel?“
„Häh, aber gut wenn dich das jetzt interessiert in der Gärtnerstraße, in der
City, kennst du das?“
„Ja klar, da ist doch ein Studentenwohnheim, oder?“
„Ja in genau dem wohne ich.“
„Der Bruder von meinem Freund wohnt dort auch.......“
So unterhielten wir uns und vergaßen, was uns demnächst blühte. Jan wohnt noch
bei seinen Eltern ganz in meiner Nähe, er hat nach seinem Realschulabschluss
mit einer Lehre bei Mercedes als Schlosser angefangen und er hat sehr viel
Spaß bei der Arbeit. Er hat noch eine kleinere Schwester, mit der er sich sehr
gut versteht. Er ist im Gegensatz zu mir absolut schwul. Er ist aber sehr
schüchtern und hat sich noch bei niemanden geoutet und weiß auch nicht ob er
es jemals tun will. Bei der Arbeit muss er sich immer verstellen, wenn die
anderen über Frauen reden und dort mit vorgespielter Begeisterung mitmachen,
damit seine Vorliebe nicht auffällt.
Nach nicht einmal einer Stunde lockerem Gesprächs, in dem ich viel über Jan
erfuhr wurden wir von den Männern aus den Ställen abgeholt. Und zur anderen
Seite des Stalls geführt. Dort hatten sie in einem großem leerem Ölfass ein
großes Kohlefeuer gemacht. in der Glut steckten drei lange Stangen. Unsere
Befürchtungen waren also berechtigt. es sah wirklich nach einer Branding-
Strafe aus. Ich geriet sofort in Panik und versuchte zu fliehen, aber sofort
packten mich zwei von ihnen und schleppten mich zu einem großen Stall, bei dem
alle 10cm Gitterstäbe vom Boden bis zur Decke gingen und so einen großen Raum
vom Hauptraum abtrennten. Ich wurde in den Stall gezerrt und dort mit dem
Gesicht zwischen dem Gitter direkt ans Gitter gestellt. sofort begannen
mehrere damit mich mit einem langen Seil an den Stäben festzubinden. Dabei
achteten sie, dass mein Penis durch die Stäbe guckte und dass mein Hintern
frei von Seilen blieb. Sie betrachteten diese Prozedur wirklich als Kunstform,
sie ließen sich sehr viel Zeit und nach geraumer Zeit war ich absolut
bewegungsunfähig an die Stäbe gefesselt. Und mein Hintern war absolut frei von
Fesseln und bereit für das Branding. Ich war total nervös, ich hatte riesige
Angst. Aber trotzdem hatte ich einen Steifen, wie kommt das, warum? Fragte ich
mich.
„Der ist ja ganz geil!“ sagte einer von ihnen. „Ich glaub, er braucht etwas um
seinen Penis abzukühlen! Warum stecken wir nicht den anderen Sklaven auf
seinen Penis, es wäre doch bestimmt geil, wenn sich der Schmerz auf den
anderen über den Penis überträgt, wenn der andere auch den Angstschweiß spürt,
oder nicht?“
„Coole Idee“
„Wahnsinn!“
Sofort griffen sie Jan, der die letzten 20 Minuten wie in Trance dastand und
sich nicht gerührt hatte und zogen ihn zu mir. Ein anderer war schon damit
beschäftigt, meinen steifen Schwanz, der in der Vorfreude vor Jans Hintern nur
noch härter wurde, mit Vaseline einzuschmieren. Als er fertig war, griff er
meinen Penis und führte ihn in Jans Rosette, der jetzt mit dem Rücken zu mir
auf der anderen Seite der Gitterstäbe stand. Und dort genauso liebevoll
gefesselt wurde. Da wir beide ziemlich stramm gefesselt wurden konnte ich Jan
sehr gut zwischen den Gitterstäben spüren. Ich konnte seine Arschbacken an
meiner Genitalgegend spüren, mit meiner Brust berührte ich seine
Schulterblätter, meine Oberschenkel berührten seine und mit meinem Gesicht
konnte ich in seinem Haar spielen. Unsere Köpfe waren nicht gefesselt.
Die sechs begossen ihre Arbeit mit einem Bier und feierten kurz. Immer wieder
drehten sie die Stäbe im Feuer um und zeigten uns demonstrativ wie rot die
Spitzen schon waren. Ich wurde immer wahnsinniger vor Angst. Ich konnte
spüren, wie auch Jan anfing zu zittern. Aber er hatte doch noch nichts zu
fürchten, sein Hintern war doch von mir verdeckt. Nach ein paar Minuten nahm
der Assistent des Chirurgen einen Stab aus dem Feuer und ging damit in den
Stall. Scheiße, jetzt war es also soweit. Gleich werde ich den Schmerz meines
Lebens spüren, gleich werde ich führ immer gebrandmarkt sein. Voller Panik
konnte ich ein „SL“ in etwa 10cm großen Buchstaben erkennen. Und es leuchtete
förmlich in einem warmen, hellen rot. Die anderen schauten gespannt zu mir
drei gingen mit in den Stall und betrachteten mich von hinten. Auch Jan
versuchte seinen Kopf so weit wie möglich nach hinten zu biegen und sagte
:“Das schaffst du!“ Ich spürte wie es langsam hinter meiner linken Arschbacke
warm und immer wärmer wurde. Das Brenneisen musste schon sehr nah hinter
meinem Hintern sein. Die anderen schrieen : „Los, Brenn seinen Hintern!“
„Markier ihn endlich“
„Mach ihn zu unserem Besitz!“
„Brenn ihm unsere Besitzurkunde in den Arsch!“
„Los!“
Und plötzlich hatte ich riesige Schmerzen. Ich versuchte meinen Hintern aus
der heißen Zone zu entfernen, aber die Fesseln waren wirklich so eng, dass ich
mich aber auch gar nicht bewegen konnte. Der Folterer drückte erbarmungslos
das Eisen in meinen Hintern. Es zischte sehr laut, ich konnte es sogar durch
das Grölen der Leute hören. Ich konnte mehrere Tränen an Jans Wange vor mir
erkennen. Er weinte! Langsam roch es immer stärker nach verbranntem Fleisch.
Nach geraumer Zeit nahm er das Brenneisen von meinem Hintern und legte es
wieder zurück ins Feuer. Ich hatte wahnsinnige Schmerzen. Wie sieht wohl mein
Hintern aus? Wird man es im Schwimmbad erkennen können? Ohne Pause stellte
einer einen Hocker vor Jan und legte so lange Holzbretter unter die Beine des
Hockers, bis Jans Penis auf ihm zum liegen kam. Jan begriff nun was ihm blühen
wird. Er fing hoffnungslos an zu zittern, und versuchte sich aus den Fesseln
zu befreien. Ich wunderte mich wie gut seine Angst auf mich über den Penis und
die anderen Stellen übertragen wurde. Ich konnte seine Angst förmlich spüren,
seinen Angstschweiß auch auf meiner Haut fühlen. Als der Hocker richtig stand
zogen sie ihm seine Vorhaut vom Penis zurück, legten einen dünnen Lederriemen
über den Penis direkt unter der Eichel und hämmerten mit einem Hammer auf
jeder Seite jeweils einen Nagel. Sein Penis war nun fixiert und konnte nicht
mehr entweichen. Nun ergriff der Bademeister ein anderes Brenneisen.. An ihm
war nur eine sehr kleine Spitze, an dem aus dünnem Bleich der Schriftzug
Privat in einem Kreis draufstand. der Kreis hatte nur einem Durchmesser von
2,5 cm. Er stellte sich vor Jan und grinste ihn und mich an. ich wollte ihm am
liebsten ins Gesicht spucken, ich ließ es aber glücklicherweise sein. Was war
er doch für ein widerlicher Kerl. Ich wollte ihm nur in die Eier treten, ihm
die Augen ausstechen, ihm sein Grinsen austreiben. Aber ich war nur ein
Sklave, oder zur Zeit noch ein „SL“ (Aber kein Mercedes, sondern eine arme
Sau). Ich durfte nichts, ich konnte nichts, nur Schmerzen erleiden. Plötzlich
begann Jan zu schreien. Sein Hintern verkrampfte sich total, es tat sogar mir
weh. Er zitterte, ihm tropfte der Schweiß vom Körper. Ich roch seinen
verbrannten Penis, sein Kopf schlug vor und zurück und knallte immer wieder
gegen das Gitter. Nach ein paar Sekunden nahm der Bademeister das Brenneisen
von der Eichel weg und legte auch dieses wieder zurück ins Feuer. Jan hatte es
überstanden. Er weinte, er schrie immer noch, er war fertig mit der Welt.
Wieder ohne große Pause ergriff ein anderer das letzte Brenneisen aus dem
Feuer und ging wieder in den Stall zu meinem Hintern. Ich konnte sehen, dass
es wie ich erwartet hatte ein „AVE“ wieder in 10cm großen Buchstaben war.
Diesmal wurde es auf meiner rechten Arschbacke warm und einen kurzen
Augenblick später wurde es wieder unerträglich. Auch ich schrie wieder, auch
ich schwitzte wieder, schlug meinen Kopf gegen das Gitter und spannte
sämtliche Muskeln an. Nach 10 Sekunden war auch dieser Spuk vorbei. Sie legten
das Brenneisen zurück ins Feuer, klatschten sie gegenseitig ab und holten sich
erneut ein Bier. Um den ersten Teil der Branding Session zu begießen. Ich war
jetzt für den Rest meines Lebens mit einem Branding „SLAVE“ auf meinem Hintern
bestraft. Wie kann ich jemals wieder jemanden meinen Hintern zeigen, kann ich
jemals wieder mit irgendjemandem schlafen, oder wird er oder sie mich als
Freak bezeichnen, über mich lachen und mich stehen lassen. Ich war immer so
stolz auf meinen knackigen Hintern, aber jetzt ist er nur noch peinlich und er
gehört jetzt den sechs Männern.
Nach einer halben Stunde kamen sie zurück
„Jetzt dürften die Brenneisen wieder heiß genug sein für die zweite Session.“
Gleich begannen sie damit uns loszubinden und vom Lederriemen über Jans Penis
die Nägel heraus zu ziehen. Als nächstes führten sie mich zu der Stelle wo
vorher Jan stand und Jan hinter mich in den Stall zu der Stelle wo ich stand.
Im vorbeigehen konnte ich Jan´s Eichel erkennen. Sie war total geschwollen,
knallrot und das Brandeisen hat eine sehr deutliche schwarze Narbe
hinterlassen. Mein Branding auf dem Hintern tut beim Gehen noch stärker weh.
Als nächstes wurde ich mit dem Hintern an die Gitterstäbe gestellt und an
diese festgebunden. Die Eisenstäbe an meinen frischen Brandwunden taten
unglaublich weh. Ich schrie die ganze Zeit vor Schmerz. Aber nach kurzer Zeit
hatte ich auch das geschafft und ich stand festgebunden an den Gitterstäben.
Vor mir stellte einer den Hocker auf und legte erneut so lange Bretter unter
die Beine des Hockers, bis mein Penis darauf locker zum liegen kam. Einer zog
jetzt meine Vorhaut zurück und streckte ihn ein wenig, legte direkt unter die
Eichel einen Lederriemen und nagelte in an dem Hocker fest. Jetzt konnte ich
dem Branding nicht mehr entrinnen, ich war ausgeliefert. Als Nächstes wurde
Jans Penis so lange gestreichelt, bis er steif war, dann zogen sie ihm ein
Kondom über, schmierten dieses mit Vaseline ein und führten seinen steifen
Penis in meinen geschundenen Hintern. Jan schrie wie am Spieß, er musste
höllische Schmerzen haben. Als sein Penis steckte fesselten sie ihn und
begannen erneut mit der Branding Session. Diesmal durften die drei ran, die
eben noch nicht durften. Als erstes nahm sich der Chirurg das Eisen mit dem
„SL“ ging zu Jan und drückte ohne zu zögern zu. Jan schrie, ich konnte seinen
heißen Atem in meinem Nacken und meinem Haar spüren. Sein Penis verkrampfte,
sein ganzer Körper begann sich zu schütteln und anzuspannen. Und ich konnte
mehrfach spüren, wie sein Kopf gegen die Gitterstäbe knallte. Es war ein
seltsames Gefühl nicht zu sehen was hinter mir vorgeht, aber es genau zu
spüren. Als nächstes holte der kleinste das kleine Brandeisen mit der
Aufschrift „PRIVAT“ aus dem Feuer, wie passend beide klein. Ging zu mir rüber
hielt die Stange senkrecht und senkte sie langsam in Richtung meiner Eichel
ab. Mir wurde heiß, ich bekam Angst, ich wurde wahnsinnig. Ich begann schon
jetzt zur rütteln und zu schreien. Der Schmerz war unerträglich und dauerte
ewig. Ich konnte durch meine kleinen Augenschlitze, die mir durch mein
schmerzverzehrtes Gesicht blieben, Rauch von meiner Eichel aufsteigen sehen.
Es stank widerlich, wie angebranntes Fleisch. Ich konnte die Freude im Gesicht
des kleinen Mannes sehen, es war ihm wohl eine riesige Genugtuung, dass er so
eine große Macht über einen viel stärkeren und größeren Mann hatte. Nach viel
zu langer Zeit nahm er das Eisen und legte es auf den Boden in eine Ecke. Ich
hatte es geschafft und überlebt, dachte ich. Ist jetzt alles vorbei, habe ich
jetzt nichts mehr zu befürchten?
Als nächstes wurde noch Jans Rechte Arschbacke beschriftet, aber auch das
überstanden wir und wir waren jetzt gebrandmarkt, wir gehörten jetzt den
Arschlöchern.
„Das war geil sagte einer von ihnen, aber jetzt kommt noch eine letzte aber
sehr wichtige Sache, bis wir euch gehen lassen!“
Scheiße! Noch was? Wir haben es immer noch nicht überstanden. Jetzt kann es ja
nur noch um unsere Eier gehen.
\-------------------
Wird fortgesetzt
\-------------------
Kritik und Anregungen Erwünscht!! Vielen Dank!
* * * |
Slavery of the White Race | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, White Slavery Warning not for anyone under 18 | After Raparations laws are passed another US civil war breaks out and the resulting nation places the white population in a rather humiliating position. | ` The civil war fighting continued for about 2 ˝ years. Finally, most of us
young white males were either dead or enslaved by those who hundreds of years
ago were our slaves. All other older white males and most women were already
dead. The remaining white young women were in breeding pens only to reproduce
domestic slaves and male slaves most of which would become cockless and
balless. It was hard for me to believe this was happening, as I was always
race neutral. The real political turn came when reparations became law and
whites had to give 10% of their income to the black political party. After
that all hell broke lose. `
We had been in our dorms the night I was captured and entered the life of
slavery. We had heard the Union troops were coming our way so we were all told
to get dressed and head for the surrounding hills above our prep school. We
raced out of our dorms but didn’t make it too far. We were ambushed and many
have my classmates were killed. They were the lucky ones. The rest of us were
captured and forced into our humiliating naked and submissive new roles.
A Unionist caught me from behind around the neck and threw me to the ground.
My roommate Austin was thrown to the ground next to me. The voice commanded us
not to struggle and we were kicked in the balls. Next, we were immediately
stripped naked and chained at the neck, ankles and wrists. We were told that
we were now the property on the Black Union Party. This treatment oddly
excited me and I sprouted a big hard one between my legs. I watched as the
rest of my captured classmates were stripped naked and chained two by two.
Austin and I were chained to each other and he also had a big one standing. He
was bigger then I by at least three inches. Our new owners laughed at our
unexpected reaction to new slave lives. Since you are both so excited to see
us lets start your slave training now. He grabbed Austin’s head dropped is
pants and pulled it into his hairy crotch. I have not seen my woman in a year
so you are the next best thing slave. Start licking my balls. Once they are
sufficiently cleaned you will start cleaning my black asshole. By the way,
army food is not that great and I have had the runs for the past two days.
They all laughed aloud again. I was horrified at this picture. Neither of us
was gay and the thought of Austin cleaning huge black balls and rimming this
guy’s hole with his tong made me sick. But that was nothing compared to what
was to become of us.
Austin refused and tried to pull away. In that moment the other soldier took
his horsewhip and began flogging him right there. You will do as I say white
slave trash! Austin still refused and the Unionist said then let this be a
lesson to the rest of you. Austin was hauled over to a large rock and was laid
out on his back. My young white naked slave body was still chained to Austin’s
at the neck. His arms and legs were tied to stakes in the ground splaying his
precious maleness for all of us to see. I begged them not to hurt him as
Austin just stared back at them. Another Unionist took out his machete and
with one swipe sliced his big white boner right off at its very beginning.
Austin passed out but I lived to watch the horror. The man threw the severed
member on the ground in front of me and said eat it slave. My mind was racing
as to what he would do if I didn’t. So I picked it up and started chewing and
swallowing. It took me ten minutes to get the whole thing down and it was
still warm. I was now a cannibal and a male slave. Good slave I was told.
Now do the job that this dickless boy didn’t. He shoved me to my knees and
pulled my face into his sweaty hairy black crotch. Lick boy. NOW! I did as I
was commanded. I remembered how my dates use to suck me and how much I enjoyed
it. Now, naked chained and enslaved I was just a sex thing to this man. A
submissive pussy boy learning how to service his master. The salty taste of
his sweaty ball sac was actually not too bad. His dirty smelly hole however
was pretty hard to clean without gagging. When I gagged the man grabbed my
balls and squeezed. It was enough of a warning to make me act as if I was
really enjoying the pleasure of cleaning him with my mouth.
We were marched through the night and by early the following morning we had
reached a nearby town. Austin had stopped bleeding and was just in shock.
Every now and then he asked what happened to it? I couldn’t bear to tell him.
Our new masters assured him that he would be modified further and would most
likely become a pony boy slave. He said that if he were lucky he would get a
lighter cart to tow.
At sunrise, the streets were lined with the people now in control of the
country. We were marched to the local high school football field. A voice came
over the speaker and said. Your world is gone so submit to us or you will be
punished, tortured or killed. Your role will now be to serve us as we see fit.
We will use you until there is nothing else left to use. Your women will be
bread only for purposes of maintaining a slave population and will be used for
our pleasure. At that, he pulled a young white female up onto the stage with
him. She was about 14 and very hot and completely naked. He proceeded to fuck
her hard and when he shot his load he dropped he to his feet and she began
licking them clean. You see, you no longer have a destiny to fulfill. Your
lives are now ours. He waved his arm and the young whit girl was collected,
brought to the end of the stage and beheaded. There are more where you came
from my naked white slave. You will either become eunuch sex slaves, laborers
or breeders. Don’t think that you will have any pleasure in any of these
tasks.
You will now be prepped for training and your assignments. Kneel before us
slaves. As we knelt I realized that in our humiliation and nakedness history
had completely turned and we were now to spend the rest of our lives as
submissives.
Several fire trucks loaded with older white male turncoats showed up on the
field. They all were naked except for the steal collars around their necks.
But the most noticeable thing was that they were all eunuchs. They moved about
us freely and without warning started soaking us with a hair solvent. ALL of
our body hair started to dissolve. Then we were hosed down and told to stand
at attention.
Once we had become hairless naked white boys we were moved into separate
lines. Austin, now newly dickless was about to get something he had never had.
My dick up his ass. With knife in hand, a white turncoat came over to Austin
and commanded him to grab his ankles and bend forward. He obeyed. After
inspection of my cock and balls, I was the commanded to fuck Austin’s ass and
pound him as hard as possible. I did as I was told and Austin screamed in pain
and embarrassment that his roommate was screwing him. He screamed that he
wanted to die. I shot my load deep into his ass and was commanded to step
back. One of the white turncoats saw my cum draining out of Austin's young
white ass and he bent over to grab a lick. Hmmmm, tasty he said. We were
unchained from each other. Austin went into the line marked eunuch and I was
sent to the line marked sex slave. Me, a sex slave? How ridicules was that?
A few days later I was well on my way to being trained as a pussy boy for the
troops and Austin, well I saw what was left of him two weeks later when I was
being transported to my new master. He was the pony boy towing the cart I was
riding in. He had lost his balls, nipples, teeth, fingers and tong. He had
been fitted with a permanent bridal and horseshoes on the bottoms of his feet
and ring that went through his bone above his lips. Along the way he and the
other white eunuch pony boys were repeatedly whipped by the driver to go
faster and would piss and shit while trotting town the muddy path. He also had
a bell installed between his legs and it lightly rang as he trotted. He was
barely human anymore and never tried to communicate with me. He only grunted
as I realized his vocal cords had also been clipped.
I arrived at my new master’s plantation eagerly wanting to service him in any
way that I could. Memories of my old life were faint and I now drew great
pleasure as a young white male sex slave.
* * * |
Ballbusting in the Ring - Part 1 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, Ballbusting | Friends take their ballbusting activities into the boxing ring, competing for a blowjob from Matt's girlfriend. | Sheila and Matt had keys to the gym, and late at night nobody saw us enter.
Sheila giggled at my boner as I pulled my jeans and underwear off. I pulled on
the loose fitting silk shorts, and admired Matt’s build as he stripped as
well.
Matt and I were into boxing and ballbusting, and his girlfriend loved to
watch. Before pulling up his boxing shorts, he stopped to put on a jockstrap
and cup. I was swinging loose in my silk boxers, with a half hard dick tenting
the front. Sheila said I looked hot, and grabbed my semi stiff meat through my
boxers. She was always flirting heavily with me, and I think Matt enjoyed
watching.
“I’m going to give the winner a blowjob,” said Sheila unexpectedly. She turned
to Matt, “that’s alright, isn’t it?”
We all knew I was the better boxer, but still Matt nodded and smiled
confidently, winking at me as he climbed into the ring. I walked around the
other side and entered to face him. I was almost as scared as I was sexually
exited about getting my balls “busted” in the ring. My lack of a cup and our
agreement to allow dirty punches would put this match in his favor.
Sheila rang the bell, and Matt and I approached each other with gloves raised.
I threw a few jabs at him, and he blocked and circled. I threw a combination,
getting a good punch in to his stomach.
Matt ducked down and as I went to deliver an uppercut to his jaw, he bobbed to
the side and threw a low punch. I was expecting this, and twisted my hips
sideways, taking a glancing blow off the inside of my right thigh.
I pivoted back and landed a square hit to his face, but before I could land
follow-up punches, he tied me up in a clinch.
There was no ref, and no real rules, so I tried my hardest to free up an arm
to punch him as he pushed me back into the ropes.
He landed a close-in punch to my stomach that didn’t really have much behind
it, but a second punch landed lower right below my beltline and I knew it was
a matter of time before he got my balls if I didn’t break out of this.
With a tremendous struggle, I was able to push him back enough that I could
pop him with a right cross to the face. That opened him up for more, and I was
dropping big bombs on him as he tried to dodge and cover. I could already
picture Sheila kneeling before me bobbing her head while Matt had to stand and
watch through a black eye as I gave his girlfriend a protein lunch. As I
landed another devastating punch to his jaw, I could see her lips separating
from my cock with a long white string of goo hanging between.
No sooner did the image go through my head then Matt landed a punch to my
nuts. It wasn’t a devastating uppercut or anything like that, but it sure got
my attention. As soon as my hands dropped, he connected a solid hit to my jaw,
followed by another. The disorienting blows helped take the edge off the dull
pain creeping up from my balls into my guts, and when I raised my hands to
defend myself, he was ready with another low blow.
This one hit hard, the padding of his glove making an audible “THUCK” against
my silk boxers as it mercilessly hammered the soft male parts hanging
vulnerably there. Amazingly, I was still standing, and Matt and I looked at
each other in disbelief. A second later, my legs buckled without warning in a
delayed response.
I collapsed to the mat and curled into a ball, unable to breathe as the pain
in my balls squeezed my throat closed. I heard Sheila above me counting, but
there was no way I could get up, not for a long time. It was all I could do to
keep from puking.
“…nine, TEN! We have a winner!!” Sheila said excitedly. She got off on ball
busting as much as Matt and I did, and this was a good show for her.
As I lay there wheezing in agony, she dropped to her knees before Matt to keep
her promise. While I normally enjoyed watching such activities, my attention
drifted between the blowjob and the wretched painful torture devices my balls
had become.
The only sounds in the whole gym were my pitiful groaning and the rhythmic wet
sucking sounds. Soon, Matt started groaning as well, and it sounded like a
threesome until his groaning surpassed mine and became more urgent.
Sheila began slapping his balls with her open palm, harder each time until he
doubled over slightly and let out a cry of pain mixed with pleasure. She
choked a few times, and then Matt’s groans died down into a contented sigh.
“Mmmmmm,” said Sheila, turning and giving me a wicked smile. She hadn’t wasted
a drop. “I say next time, NEITHER of you wears a cup.”
Matt and I exchanged glances and he smiled and nodded.
“Bring your appetite,” I managed to croak to Sheila.
* * * |
Ball Boy Part Two | BI | Merry Christmas Bboy. Sure, it doesn't have a gay theme, but most of the other elements of your "ideal" story are here, or will be by the time I'm done. Alas, I haven't gotten to the coup de grace yet, but good things come to those who wait; perhaps in part three our hero will lose it. Stay tuned, the muse can't be rushed. | Back in the limousine, M raised up her dress as she lowered herself
onto the seat, exposing her sex as she did. Once seated she spread
her legs apart and stared at me lasciviously, which I took as my cue
to assume the position and service her with my mouth. M was
obviously still tremendously aroused from the performance and the
video, because my tongue had hardly begun laving her clitoris when
she shuddered and sighed, signaling her first orgasm. I paused
briefly to allow her to recover a bit, and as I did this I noticed
Denise had also raised her dress and was pleasuring herself
vigorously with a dildo and her fingers. The air inside the
compartment was permeated with the aroma of feminine arousal; it
caused my cock to strain painfully against my snug-fitting pants.
Soon M placed a hand on my neck and pulled me gently back to her
mons. For a time we rode through the night like this, the only
sounds the labored breathing of the limo's occupants and the humming
of its wheels. Finally, in a hoarse whisper between breaths, M began
to speak.
"You know ... If you stay with me long enough ... that I'll want you
to do what he did for her, don't you?" she barely managed to
articulate as she approached another climax.
Pulling my face just far enough away from her sex to be heard, I
replied softly, "I know."
"Does that scare you?"
"Oh yes."
"And does it excite you?"
"Most definitely."
M placed two fingers under my chin and tilted my head upward so that
I was looking directly at her beautiful face. I felt dizzy and giddy
as she gazed deeply into my eyes, searching seemingly for my very
soul. We remained with our eyes locked together for several minutes,
aware of nothing except each other.
"Are you willing to do that for me? ... It's a big sacrifice ... and
it's irreversible."
A long silence followed as I considered the question. My cock became
so hard it began to ache. I wondered idly whether that was a sign of
my true desire to become a cockless submissive in the service of
this enchantress. Certainly I couldn't imagine going back to being
"normal," or a future without M. Finally, I nodded my head
affirmatively and returned to my previous task, sucking her clitoris
into my mouth with a flourish. Judging by the violent quivering and
wailing that followed, it was blatantly obvious that she approved of
both responses.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Fortunately, my parents thought it would be a good idea for me to
spend time traveling around the world before starting college - I
was slated to begin my freshman year at USC in the Fall - so the
next day I packed what I could into a few suitcases and became M's
"entourage." The next stop on the tour, The estyle.com Classic, was
just up the coast in Los Angeles. M rented a car and we took the
scenic route. I played tour guide, making side trips to points of
interest such as Del Mar, Newport Beach and San Juan Capistrano, as
we made our way leisurely north.
The tournament was held at the sports facility built for the
Olympics, more or less in the shadow of the Colosseum, and about a
block from the university where I had planned to attend. Since M had
won the previous tournament, she did not have to enter this one as a
qualifier. After the draw was announced and M was assigned a locker,
she and I wandered aimlessly around and eventually found ourselves
in the middle of the USC campus. As I gazed upon the bronze statue
of a Trojan warrior there (fondly referred to by students and alumni
as "Tommy Trojan"), I realized it was highly unlikely that I would
ever be able to settle for what this institution had to offer - the
abrupt change my life had taken in the past few weeks made it
impossible for me to seriously contemplate pursuing my previous
mundane goals.
That night we went into Hollywood and checked out the scenes on
Melrose, Santa Monica and Sunset. M dragged me into an ultra-hip
salon called Extreme Alternatives. Stylized outlines of nude men and
women rendered in crimson- and lime-colored neon were mounted
strategically throughout on mirror-covered walls, giving the place
an ambience of futuristic hedonism. From somewhere not particularly
obvious the sound of very cool piano and sax flavored jazz
complemented the visual presentation.
I became so absorbed in viewing the tattoo and piercing catalogs and
the various exotic accouterments in the display cases that I didn't
notice M had drifted off and become engaged in conversation with the
jeweler until she called to me and beckoned me over.
"There is a special piece of jewelry that I want to have Moira make
for you," she announced upon my arrival, waving her hand toward a
slender woman with a shaved head who stood behind the counter
looking at me bemusedly.
"I need to take some measurements. Please come with me," the woman
said, and then she turned and walked through a doorway to her right.
Like a good little sheep, I dutifully followed her. When I caught up
with her, she was standing beside what looked to be a doctor's
examining table.
"Take off your pants and underwear and jump up here," she said
matter-of-factly, patting the spot on the table where she wanted me
to sit.
Predictably, my cock sprang to life at the prospect of stripping for
this exotic-looking woman. By now I was getting accustomed to doing
what women told me to do without hesitation, so I quickly undressed
and hopped up on the table, despite my embarrassing hard-on.
"Well, lookie here!" she said, smirking ever so slightly.
"I'm afraid we're going to have tame that little tiger if I'm going
to get the measurements I need."
Without explanation, she left the room. When she returned she was
carrying a metal bowl full of water and ice cubes. She laid the
bowl beside me on the table and proceeded to dunk a washcloth into
the icy liquid it contained. Next she took the washcloth out of the
bowl and wrapped it around my erect - soon to be flaccid - cock.
Once she had achieved the desired result, she dried me off and
quickly marked three spots on the top of my now-shriveled member
with a felt pen: one flush to my body; one adjacent to my glans; and
one dead center between the other two.
Moira extracted a ringsizer from her pocket and began testing
different orifices on the device at each of the markings until she
was satisfied that she had the correct size for each location. When
she was done, she kissed the head of my cock softly and then told me
to get dressed and rejoin M, which I did with relative dispatch.
M and Moira were just finishing up their transaction when I emerged
from the back room. M hooked her arm in mine and guided me toward
the exit. Just before we stepped out the door she looked backward,
waved and said, "I'll see you Thursday night."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
M drew a very tough opponent in the first round - then the number
three player in the world - so there was no gradual build up in the
severity of my prematch abuse. She started right out by vigorously
plowing my ass with a ten-inch strap-on. This was followed by an
intense and lengthy caning on my ass and legs, the residual evidence
of which made it impossible to wear shorts in public without
attracting attention. M's final preparation for the match involved
straddling a dildo attached to my penis gag, and bringing herself to
three shuddering orgasms as I lay beneath her naked, bound and in
pain.
Thank goodness she won the match, I would not want to have endured
that in vain. M followed this routine during the next two matches.
Although she beat both of the players she faced, the semifinal match
was very long, physically demanding, and close, not decided until
she broke serve in the ninth game of the third set and then closed
out the match on her own serve.
It was pretty obvious to me that she would want to step it up for
the final, but I didn't have a clue how she would do it. That night,
when we returned to Extreme Alternatives, I was to learn that M had
anticipated the need at hand. Moira greeted us as we entered the
shop and motioned for us to follow her into the back. Once again I
was instructed to strip and jump up on the examining table. While I
did this, Moira fetched her tiger tamer.
After my cock was properly subdued, Moira produced an
unusual-looking piece of jewelry and began to slide it onto my
shaft. It was made of gold and consisted of three small, evenly
spaced rings connected with short lengths of chain. She maneuvered
it until the ring at one end was flush against my body and the ring
at the other end was at the base of my glans. I could see that there
were small holes at corresponding intervals on each of the outer
rings, and an inscription on the center ring that read: Property of
M.
Before long Moira brought out a needle and a spool of gold-metal
thread. She threaded the needle and then proceeded to sew the inner
and outer rings to my cock. She used the holes in each of them as
anchor points and ran the thread through the skin two or three times
before tying the thread off and fusing it together with a soldering
iron. When she was done, it was quite snug and secure - there was
not any chance of it coming loose accidentally.
I realized that there was not any chance of me getting an erection
either. Of course, just thinking that caused my cock to attempt to
become hard. But those rings were very effective at suppressing my
arousal; and with surprisingly little discomfort, just a firm and
unyielding resistance.
M grasped my custom-made chastity device between her fingers and
gazed at it lustfully. With just a trace of a sadistic smile upon
her lips, she said:
"I want you to get used to not using your cock. That way, you really
won't miss it when you finally give it up."
There was a certain perverse logic to what she said, and her words
triggered a sharp jolt to my libido. A delicious, unrelenting ache
erupted in my loins. It has been with me ever since.
"And just knowing you're all locked up until the day you get cut
will keep me constantly aroused and in a dominant mind-set. It
should go a long way toward getting me psyched up for my matches."
M leaned down and ran her tongue over the head of my cock, slowly
and sensuously. She raised up and kissed my cheek tenderly, then
clutched my testicles forcefully as she gripped the back of my neck
and kissed me long and passionately. If there had been any chance of
me wavering, this ended it. At that point I knew I was a complete
goner, I would go anywhere and do anything if M wanted me to.
The results of her recent tennis matches, along with the placement
of my new piece of jewelry, gave M the confidence to go into the
match without any "special" preparation. As it happened, M's
opponent was the same woman she had played in the finals of the
previous tournament. It was a high caliber tennis match, very
exciting to watch, and the crowd really got into it. Each set was
decided by a tiebreaker, the final tiebreaker ending at 16-14 in M's
favor. The outcome of the match proved to the tennis world, her
opponent and, most importantly, M that her previous championship
victory wasn't a fluke - a new force to be reckoned with had arrived
on the women's tennis scene.
... To be continued
Author's Note:
Kids, do not try the things depicted in this story at home. They
should only be performed by trained erotica writers. And please note
that all the above-referenced individuals are fictional characters
and that the events of this story did not happen to me or anyone
else.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ |
Das Volle Programm. German Language. | NULLIFICATION | Man nannte sie nur `Die Gang´. Tom, Mick, Gerald, Will und Kamal, den alle nur
Ali nannten.
Sie waren eine verschworene Gemeinschaft. Die fünf achtzehnjährigen hatten das
letzte Jahr in einem Schweizer Internat hinter sich gebracht. Ihre Wege würden
sich nun trennen. Alle fünf stammten aus vermögenden Familien, und sollten
jetzt an den besten Universitäten studieren. Ali und Gerald würden nach Oxford
gehen, und die anderen drei nach Harvard beziehungsweise Yale. Auf Kamals
Einladung reisten die Boys in dessen Heimat, um noch einmal so richtig `Die
Sau raus zu lassen´.
In seiner sehr rückständigen Heimat, war Kamals Familie eine der Reichsten.
Die Gang verbrachte zwei Wochen in einem Palastartigen Haus mit Dienerschaft,
Swimmingpool und Klimaanlage. Eben mit allem Komfort. Danach wollten Tom,
Mick, Will und Gerald noch eine Woche in der Hauptstadt verbringen. Ali
verabschiedete sie Herzlich und warnte sie eindringlich:” In meinem Land
herrschen noch die alten Bräuche. Lasst Euch nicht betrunken auf der Strasse
sehen und geht um Gotteswillen nicht mit Schuhen in eine Moschee. Es gibt ein
paar Etablissements nach Eurem Geschmack. Für ein paar Münzen bekommt Ihr dort
alles was Ihr wollt.”
Nach dieser Warnung fuhr ein Chauffeur sie mit einer Luxuslimousine in die
Hauptstadt.
Das Hotel hatte zwar keine fünf Sterne, aber die Boys hatten ja auch etwas
anderes im Sinn.
Am späten Nachmittag begann die Tour durch die Stadt. Die Bevölkerung sah die
Boys an wie Geister, denn Touristen waren hier noch nicht so zahlreich. Ali
hatte ihnen erzählt, dass sie die Bordelle sofort an ihrer Farbenpracht
erkennen würden. Und so war es. Schon der erste Laden erfüllte alle ihre
Wünsche. Jeder der vier schlief ausgiebig mit einer Orientalischen Schönheit.
Und diese Mädchen kannten alle Stellungen und noch verschiedene andere
Techniken.
Erschöpft verschliefen die Boys den nächsten Tag. Abends ging es dann wieder
los. Die Boys beschlossen mal etwas weiter in die Außenbezirke der Stadt zu
gehen. Dort betraten sie ein buntes Geschäft. Drinnen saßen zwei Männer an
einem runden Tisch und rauchten eine Wasserpfeife. Erstaunt sahen die Männer
die vier Boys an. Einer der Männer erhob sich und sprach die Boys auf Arabisch
an. Die vier verstanden kein Wort, aber Ali hatte ihnen ja vorsichtshalber ein
paar Brocken wie `Nein, Ja´ und `Wir wollen das volle Programm´ beigebracht.
Der Araber fragte die vier ob sie etwas kaufen wollen. Einen Diener oder einen
Sklaven. “Nein, wir wollen das volle Programm.” sagte Tom. Der Mann sah
fragend seinen Partner an. Der zuckte mit den Schultern. “Das volle Programm?”
fragte der Mann nach.
Die vier nickten und sagten mit gebrochenem Arabisch:” Ja, das volle
Programm.” Um ihrer Forderung Nachdruck zu verleihen nahm Tom die Hand des
Mannes und drückte ihm eine große Geldsumme hinein. Daraufhin erhob sich auch
der zweite Mann, und die beiden führten eine heftige Unterhaltung. “Das können
wir nicht machen. Wir kriegen Ärger. - Warum nicht? Sie wollen es doch, und
sie zahlen sogar noch mehr dafür als wir sonst im Jahr verdienen. - Aber wenn
das rauskommt verlieren wir den Kopf. Bei Weißen sind die Behörden komisch. Da
werden viele Fragen gestellt. - Ich regele das schon. Außerdem, Du hältst den
Mund und ich halte den Mund. Was soll da denn passieren?”
Der erste Mann klatschte in die Hände. Zwei Frauen traten hinter einem Vorhang
hervor. Der Mann bat die Boys in den hinteren Raum. Die vier grinsten sich an.
Nun begannen die Frauen die Boys auszuziehen. Sie hatten sowieso nur Shirts
und Shorts an. Ihre steifen Glieder sprangen hervor als die Frauen ihnen die
Shorts herunterzogen. Dann ging es in einen weiteren Raum. Dort hatten die
Männer bereits Wannen aufgestellt und jetzt wurden die Boys von oben bis unten
gewaschen. Danach wurden sie sorgfältig abgetrocknet und in einen weiteren
Raum gebeten. Hier wurden sie auf Hocker gesetzt. Dann begannen die Frauen die
Boys zu rasieren.
Micks Brustbehaarung wurde entfernt und dann seine Beinbehaarung. Schließlich
kam auch sein schwarzer Schamhaarbusch dran. Währenddessen hatte die andere
Frau Gerald rasiert.
Auch sein Feuerroter Busch fiel dem Messer zum Opfer. Danach kamen Tom und
Will dran.
Alle vier amüsierten sich über ihre haarlosen Körper. Ihre Glieder standen
immer noch, und sie waren gespannt, wie es nun weitergehen würde. Die Boys
wurden wieder in den Baderaum geführt. Dort hatten die Männer inzwischen vier
Holzbänke aufgestellt. Jeder der vier Boys wurde nun gebeten sich auf eine der
Bänke zu legen. Sie folgten der Anweisung und scherzten weiter darüber, was
jetzt noch passieren würde.
Die Männer legten jetzt jedem einen Gurt um den Bauch und schnallten sie fest.
Dann wurden ihre Hände an den Füßen der Bänke festgebunden. Die vier ließen
alles, in der Erwartung auf einen sexuellen Hochgenuss, mit sich geschehen.
Die Männer legten jetzt die Schenkel der Boys links und rechts von der Bank
herunter und befestigten sie darunter mit Eisernen Ringen an den Fußgelenken.
Breitbeinig lagen die Boys nun auf den Bänken festgeschnallt.
Vorsichtshalber fragte der Araber die Boys noch mal:” Das volle Programm?” Und
alle vier nickten. Der Mann nickte und drückte jedem der Boys einen Knebel in
den Mund.
Der andere Mann brachte einen kleinen Tisch mit allerlei Werkzeug herein.
“Schau Dir das an. Jungen mit Vorhaut haben wir noch nie gehabt. - Ja, sieht
sehr hübsch aus. Aber nun an die Arbeit.”
Mit einem kundigen Griff, wurden nun die Hodensäcke der Boys abgetastet um
sicher zu sein, dass sich auch beide Hoden darin befanden. Die Boys wurden
jetzt doch Unruhig. Sie hatten etwas anderes erwartet und wussten nicht, was
mit ihnen passieren würde.
Der erste Mann nahm nun ein ca. 1 cm dickes Rohr von dem kleinen Tisch und
griff nach Toms immer noch steifem Glied. Er zog dessen Vorhaut zurück und
setzte das Rohr auf die Penisspitze. Dann drückte er das Rohr mit Wucht in
Toms Harnröhre. Tom brüllte in den Knebel. Die anderen hatten alles gesehen
und waren geschockt. Der Mann trat nun zu Gerald. Dessen Glied war schlagartig
abgeschwollen. Aber der Mann hatte kein Problem auch ihm ein Rohr in den Penis
zu treiben. Mit Mick und Will wurde ebenso verfahren. Dann folgte eine kleine
Pause. Die Boys blieben einen Moment allein. Ihre Vorhäute hatten sich wieder
vorgeschoben und etwa 2 cm Rohr schauten aus ihnen hervor. Wenig später
betraten die beiden Araber wieder den Raum und kamen zu Tom. Der erste nahm
nun einen dünnen Lederriemen, griff Toms Sack und zog ihn in die Länge. Dann
legte er den Riemen um den Sack. Die Enden des Riemens befestigte er an einem
20 cm langen Holzstück und begann dieses zu drehen. Dadurch drehte er eine
Schlaufe die sich durch das drehen zusammenzog. Nach wenigen Umdrehungen
begann der Riemen Toms Sackhaut zusammenzuziehen. Tom brüllte wieder in den
Knebel. Der Araber drehte bis es anscheinend nicht mehr ging. Dann machte er
noch einen Ruck und steckte das eine Ende des Holzstückes in Toms Anus.
Dadurch konnte sich der Riemen von selbst nicht mehr lösen. Ebenso wurde mit
den anderen drei Boys verfahren. Allen vieren war nun der Hodensack
abgebunden. Der Mann ging nun wieder zu Tom. Er zog dessen Vorhaut mehrmals
vor und zurück. Toms Glied wuchs wieder und wurde wieder steif, und das Rohr
verschwand völlig in Toms Eichel. Der Mann schlang sofort einen weiteren
Lederriemen um Toms Glied und zog ihn dicht am Körper fest zusammen. Er
verknotete ihn sorgfältig. Auch Mick, Gerald und Wills Glieder wurden so
verschnürt. Den Boys schwante jetzt Übles, aber jetzt war es zu spät. Die
beiden Araber hatten anscheinend viel Zeit, denn nach jedem Arbeitsschritt
machten sie eine ausgiebige Pause. Die beiden Frauen von vorhin nutzten ihre
Chance und begutachteten die vier gefesselten Boys. Tasteten ihre abgebundenen
Hoden Und Glieder und kicherten. Wenn die Männer wiederkamen verschwanden sie
aber sofort. Nach einer langen Pause traten die beiden Männer in den Raum. Der
erste griff nach Toms Hoden und drückte sie heftig. Tom reagierte kaum und der
Mann nickte seinem Partner zu. Dieser nahm ein Messer von dem Tisch und gab es
dem ersten Mann. Dieser setzte das Messer nun etwas unterhalb des Lederriemens
an, zog mit der anderen Hand Toms Sack wieder etwas in die Länge und begann
ihn langsam abzuschneiden. Kurz darauf lagen Toms Hoden auf dem kleinen Tisch.
Blut war kaum geflossen. Wenige Tropfen fielen auf die Bank.
Die anderen drei Boys hatten mit weit aufgerissenen Augen zugesehen, aber
jetzt waren sie selber dran. Nacheinander verloren auch sie ihre Hoden. Keiner
der vier hatte die Besinnung verloren. Was keiner von ihnen wusste war, dass
ihre Hoden während des Abschneidens schon Tot waren. Der Araber wusste genau
wie lange er warten musste damit er die Hoden fast schmerzlos abschneiden
konnte.
Nun ging es an ihre Glieder. Mit einem gebogenen Messer machte der Araber,
etwa 1,5 cm über dem Lederriemen, einen kreisrunden Schnitt um Toms Glied und
trennte es bis auf das Rohr durch. Dann zog er es über das Rohr ab und legte
es zu den Hodensäcken auf den Tisch.
Auch das war halbwegs schmerzlos. Allerdings floss das aufgestaute Blut aus
dem Glied und lief am Toms Oberschenkel lang. Ebenso verloren die anderen drei
ihre Glieder.
“Ich hoffe ihr seid zufrieden. Wie gewünscht seid ihr jetzt Eunuchen. Ihr
wollte ja das volle Programm.” sagte der Araber lachend. “Und das Beste kommt
erst noch wenn ihr verkauft werdet.” Die `Ex Boys´ hatten kein Wort
verstanden.
Eine der Frauen kam mit einer Schüssel und legte die Glieder und Hodensäcke
hinein. Dann stellte sie die Schüssel auf die Erde und stieß einen kurzen Ruf
aus.
Kurz darauf erschien ein mittelgroßer brauner Hund und machte sich über die
Schüssel her.
Schnell verschlang er schmatzend die Glieder und die Hodensäcke der Boys. Dann
sah er die Frau an als erwartete er mehr und verschwand wieder. Anschließend
wusch die Frau den Eunuchen das Blut zwischen den Beinen weg und rieb die
Wunden mit einer Salbe ein.
Die nächsten Tage verbrachten die vier frischgebackenen Eunuchen, weiterhin
festgebunden, auf den Bänken. Nur zum Essen wurde ihnen kurz der Knebel
herausgenommen.
Jeder hatte schon seinen Urin durch das Rohr in hohen Bogen in den Raum
geschossen.
Die Frauen wischten das dann jedes Mal sauber.
Nach ein paar Tagen kam einer der Araber und untersuchte die Wunden. Er
lächelte und tätschelte den Eunuchen die Oberschenkel. Noch ein paar Tage
später löste der Mann den Eunuchen das restliche Stück ihres Hodensackes ab
und entfernte den Riemen. Die Wunden waren bereits gut verheilt. Die
Penisstümpfe ließ er nach einer kurzen Untersuchung noch dran.
Diese wurden noch ein paar Tage später abgenommen. Sie hatten bereits eine
schwarze Färbung angenommen und rochen auch nicht sehr gut. Aber sie ließen
sich Problemlos entfernen. Somit schaute nur noch das Rohr aus den Körpern.
Die Frauen brachten eines Tages einen Tisch und ein paar Stühle in den Raum.
Kurz darauf erschienen die beiden Araber mit ein paar anderen Männern. Die
Fremden begutachteten die vier Eunuchen. Dann begann ein langer Handel.
Schließlich wechselte eine große Summe Geld ihren Besitzer. Die Fremden
verließen den Raum wieder. Am nächsten Tag entfernte einer der Araber die
Rohre aus den Harnröhren der Eunuchen. Er streichelte über die rötlichen
Narben und nickte zufrieden. Dann wurde Tom losgebunden und aus dem Raum
gebracht. Er wurde gefesselt in eine Kiste gesperrt und diese auf einen
Kleintransporter geladen. Der Transporter fuhr ab. Auch Mick kam in eine Kiste
und wurde weggefahren. Gerald wurde in den Kofferraum eines Mercedes gesteckt
und Will in den eines Peugeot. Bevor der Kofferraumdeckel geschlossen wurde,
sah Will noch wie der braune Hund an der Hausecke einen großen Haufen schiss.
“Da scheißt er unsere Hoden aus.” dachte Will.
So fuhren alle als Eunuchen in eine ungewisse Zukunft.
Die beiden Araber setzten sich wieder an ihren Tisch und rauchten ihre
Wasserpfeife.
“War doch ganz einfach. Das werden wir wohl nicht noch einmal erleben, das
weiße Jungen eine Stange Geld dafür bezahlen sich kastrieren und verkaufen zu
lassen. Ist doch alles glatt gegangen. Und wir haben gleich zweimal kassiert.
Wenn noch mal so welche kommen werde ich keine Sekunde zögern es wieder zu
tun.
\- Ja Du hattest recht.
So eine Gelegenheit darf man sich nicht entgehen lassen. Außerdem wollten sie
ja Eunuchen werden. Weiße Eunuchen hat man ja auch sehr selten. Dabei waren
das auch noch sehr schöne Eunuchen. Und Du hast ganz saubere Arbeit geleistet.
Da wird man später keine Narben mehr sehen. Den Rothaarigen hätte ich gerne
selber behalten. Aber das wäre zu Gefährlich. Die Kunden waren jedenfalls auch
hellauf begeistert und haben sich ja auch überboten. Mal sehen, ob wir von
diesen Eunuchen noch mal was hören.”
Kamal ( Ali ) kam nach seinem Studium aus Oxford zurück. Er hatte sich dort
eigentlich mit Gerald treffen wollen. Er erfuhr durch Geralds Eltern dass
Gerald nicht aus seinem Urlaub zurückgekehrt war. Kamal bat seine Familie bei
den Behörden zu intervenieren um Gerald zu finden. Dabei erfuhr er das auch
Tom, Mick und Will verschwunden waren. Aber eine suche ergab nichts. Die
Jungen blieben verschwunden.
Ein paar Jahre später machte in Kamals Heimat ein Gerücht von vier verrückten
weißen Jungen, die sich freiwillig kastrieren und verkaufen ließen und dafür
auch noch bezahlten, die Runde.
Kamal forschte lange nach. Aber fand keinen der Freunde jemals wieder.
* * * |
|
Naughty Boy's Correctional Facility | NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Timothy is sentenced to 4 years at the facility for badly behaved boys. | I stood in front of the court, chained hand and foot with my head
bowed as the magistrate read out my sentence.
"Timothy Simpson, you have been found guilty of improper behaviour
with a girl under the age of 14. You are hereby sentenced to 4
years in a juvenile correctional facility. Take him away"
Four years. Four years. I would be nearly 17 by the time I got out.
I was led out to the holding cell. Once there the female guard
produced a thick steel collar which she locked about my neck. I
shuddered as the heavy object closed. The collar was about a
quarter of an inch thick and an inch and a half deep. It was locked
by some kind of hidden screw and had a thick two inch diameter ring
dangling under my chin. Then my collar was linked by several feet
of heavy chain to the group of other 12 and 13 year old boys
waiting for transport.
Nobody spoke much as we waited for the court sessions to end. Every
few minutes another boy was unceremoniously attached to the end of
the group. At about 3:30 one of the female guards unlocked the end
of the chain and led us out to the waiting transport, a truck with
a steel cage on the back. We were herded into the straw filled
interior and both ends of the chain of prisoners had their collars
attached to large steel eye bolts set in the floor.
Before we set off, the two female guards cut off our clothes with
large dressmakers scissors. "You won't be needing these where
you're going" we were told. We all looked totally embarrassed by
our predicament. Naked and chained with no where to hide. "Its a
long trip so you will have to wear full sanitary protection"
snapped one of the guards as she produced a sack full of disposable
nappies.
One by one we were diapered and put into pale pink plastic pants
with strong elastic at the legs and waist. I don't know what was
worse, being naked or put in nappies. With the diapering complete
we had our leg irons reattached and were given a large bottle of
liquid each for the journey. We were warned of severe consequences
if we attempted to tamper with the nappies.
The cage door was locked and the truck rumbled out of the court
yard and onto the road to our ultimate destination and the fate we
all dreaded.
With little to do and the heat making us thirsty we opened our
bottles of drink. It tasted quite pleasant and was thirst quenching
so got consumed fairly quickly. We talked nervously about what was
in store for us. Gary, one of the boys chained next to me, said he
had heard that the correctional facilities used all sorts of
humiliating procedures to break the boys. Paul, on the other side
said he had seen one of the inmates after release in his home town.
The boy was 18 years old and had the body and voice of a girl.
After about an hour we started to feel the urge to relieve
ourselves of the liquid. Gary was the first to wet himself and then
sat squirming as the wetness seeped around his nappy. I held on as
long as I could but eventually was forced to wet. It was thoroughly
humiliating to be sitting there unable to do anything about it. The
plastic pants made the sensation even worse.
One of the boys who had managed to avoid wetting himself found our
predicament amusing and accused us of being a load of babies unable
to control ourselves. There was no way he was going to let go he
declared. Well, Mark, soon had cause to regret his remarks as he
found himself suddenly emptying his bowls uncontrollably into the
waiting nappy. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he tried to
find a position that avoided spreading the foul mess all over the
inside of his nappies.
Over the next hour we all had the same unpleasant experience of
heavily soiling our nappies. There had obviously been something in
the drink we had been given. We looked a pitiful sight, chained
together with full nappies and the heavy steel collars around our
necks. I think we realised that the next few years were going to be
an experience we would never forget.
After several more hours the truck arrived at the detention
facility. We were unlocked from the cage floor and led into the
reception area. This was a large cage with several shower hoses. We
then had our hands and feet unchained and were told to remove our
nappies and put them in the bin and get clean with the showers.
We towelled dry and were then split into groups of two and led one
group at a time chained by the neck to the induction office.
"You have forfeited your rights and will be treated as we think
fit" said the governess. "Disobedience will result in humiliation
and punishment. If you behave you will serve only your sentence. If
you don't it, can be extended to double the time."
"Now, so that you can meet the other inmates and see what is in
store for you, you can have the pleasure of some time in the
pillory, take them away"
We were led though double barred doors into a corridor and finally
into a cell block where there waited two pillories between the rows
of locked cells. The pillories were only about 3 feet high. The
guard unlocked my collar and forced me to kneel and place my neck
and wrists into the solid wooden device. The top was hinged down
and a heavy padlock secured it shut. I was helpless and unable to
escape. She then secured my ankles to two leg irons at either side
and gave my bare bottom a hefty thwack with her riding crop.
Turning her attention to Gary next to me she saw that he had become
excited by the spectacle and was unable to hide his erection. It
was not much to look at as we were all only just entering the early
stages of puberty and devoid of pubic hair. Still it was at its
full state of about 3.5 inches.
"I see your partner is enjoying this" said the guard. "Well, he can
be the first to demonstrate what awaits you both" She ordered him
to the front of my pillory. "Have you ever sucked another boys
penis before?" she asked me. I shook my head and said no. "Then you
had better get some practice. I don't want to hear any complaints
of lack of enthusiasm and make sure that you don't bite anyone. Now
get started on your friend"
Gary moved forward and I took his erect little penis into my mouth.
He thrust it in and out and I dutifully sucked, fearful of the
consequences of disobeying. After a few minutes Gary let out a moan
and a few small drops of semen squirted into my mouth. "Make sure
you swallow that, I don't want any dribbling" ordered the guard. I
reluctantly obliged.
Gary was locked into the pillory next to me and the guard left us
both there helpless. After about an hour the guard reappeared and
started to unlock the cells. The boys were led over to our
pillories. They were chained in a variety of ways, some of them
were straitjacketed and some were clothed in dresses! We were
ordered to start work on them as they were placed in front of us
one at a time. Despite their different ages, none had any pubic
hair and no one had a penis much bigger than 4 inches. All spoke in
unbroken voices.
Unlike Gary they all seemed fairly incapable of maintaining an
erection and I only got a few of them to come, a fact which
relieved me as I did not want to have to swallow them. After 4
hours we were allowed out of the pillory and taken to another room.
Here we had our collars put back on and we were chained to the
wall. A nurse with a syringe then injected something into our upper
thighs. She explained that it was an implant that switched off the
testicles so that effectively we would be castrated for the next 4
years. "You may have noticed the effects on the boys you just met"
she said. "It will take about a week to work, so until then I have
these for you". She produced two steel chastity belts. "They will
prevent you from getting any satisfaction until the implant kicks
in"
She fastened the belt around my waist and pulled the crotch guard
between my legs pushing my balls up into my abdomen. My penis
protruded through a small hole. Another steel plate trapped my
penis into a downward pointing small diameter tube in the crotch
piece and fastened on top of the crotch guard. It looked as though
I had no genitals.
"You will find you can still urinate if you sit down" she said. "I
suggest you try to avoid getting erect as the belts are designed to
prevent all sexual satisfaction." Gary had his belt locked on in a
similar fashion and we were released from the wall. "We have some
special fetters for you as well" said the orderly. She then locked
a medieval looking set of leg irons around my ankles. These led via
a thick chain to a matching set of wrist irons which she locked
about my wrists. She then fastened a chain between my wrists and my
collar.
Gary received similar treatment, we were attached to each other by
our collars and led out to the cells. There we were put into a cage
about 6 feet by 6 feet and 5 feet high. It contained a rolled up
mattress and bucket and the back wall had some large rings dangling
from hoops set in the stone.
The cage door slammed shut and we just stood there looking at each
other. "I don't believe this" I said. "At least you got a blow job.
I don't even get that and now I am going to be castrated" I tried
to get my finger around or under the crotch plate. It was
impossible. As my penis started to expand in expectation of being
touched I got a painful sensation from under the locked plate. It
abruptly terminated all sexual thoughts and I resumed my flaccid
state cursing my luck. I vainly tried to force the belt over my
hips but there was no way it was going to shift.
The boy in the cell next to us said there was no way out the belts.
"They stay on until they have shut down your balls. Then when it is
removed you can play with yourself as much as you like and nothing
happens."
He had been here for 2 years now. He was nearly 15 but still had
the body of a 12 year old, hairless and with a small shrunken
penis. He was a good looking boy with fair hair and blue eyes and a
slightly feminine body. His steel collar was wider than mine and
pushed his chin up slightly.
Chris had four foot of chain attaching his collar to one of the
rings in the back wall, so he was unable to reach the front of his
cage. Although he had no leg irons he was wearing a metal waist
belt with attached manacles. The belt was fastened behind him with
a substantial padlock. His arms were crossed in front of him and
fastened to the sides of the belt. Two thick leather straps looped
between his legs from front to rear preventing upwards movement of
the belt.
"Are you sure you can't get erect or anything" I asked.
"I haven't managed anything for ages" he replied.
"Here, come over to the bars and I will see if I can't help" I said
He pressed his thighs to the bars and I stoked his small penis and
put it in my mouth and sucked, but nothing happened, although I got
a painful reminder from my belt not to enjoy myself.
I continued manipulating him but just as he had said nothing
stirred. It came home to me that I was in the same situation and
that this would be my fate.
The cell on the other side contained two boys, both naked like
ourselves. Apparently one was 16 and the other 14 but although the
16 year old was a bit taller they too had the same hairless bodies
and pre pubertal genitalia. They were chained together not by their
collars but their balls. A stainless steel ring had been fastened
around their sacks. It was about a quarter of an inch thick and an
inch diameter. A chain about 18 inches long led out between their
buttocks joining them together. The younger of the boys was wearing
a scolds bridle, apparently he had been rude to one of the guards.
He also had a much shorter chain between his leg irons. It was only
about 6 inches. This resulted in both of them suffering a lot when
moving around the detention centre as he had difficulty keeping up
with the older boy.
I asked them what their experiences with the implants had been. The
younger, his name was Peter, mumbled something unintelligible
through his bridle. A large dribble then came out of the bridles
mouthpiece. The older boy, his name was James, had been brought to
the centre when he was 12. Apparently he had had his first orgasm a
few weeks before he arrived but since then had become completely
incapable of even getting an erection. It was not for want of
trying as both the boys would play with each other trying to get
some action.
The governess had decided that James would have to be feminised
because of his constant fiddling. He now had oestrogen implants and
at the end of the month would be getting surgery to remove his
genitals. He was not looking forward to this at all.
After several hours our evening meal was brought in by some of the
inmates. This was a sort of porridge with some pieces of food in
it. It was slopped into dog bowls that were passed under the bars.
I went to pick mine up and was reprimanded by the guard. We were
not allowed to use our hands to eat. As a punishment I had my hands
refastened behind by back.
Eating off the floor was difficult and our faces were all covered
in food by the time we were finished. Wet towels were handed
through the bars for cleaning. I needed to relieve my self and went
to the bucket. I remembered what the nurse had said about sitting
and squatted over the bucket. Pee sprayed all over the inside and
started to dribble down my legs. I grabbed some paper and wiped the
outside of the chastity belt, but little bits of pee kept leaking
out afterwards.
Seeing this the guard fetched two pairs of trainer pants and some
plastic panties. She unlocked Gary and I and made us put on the
pants and plastic panties. "You can still use the bucket but we
don't want you dribbling pee all over the place" she said.
Our leg irons were refastened and the cage door locked shut. Our
plastic panties rustled as we moved around the cell. It did not
take long for the pants to get warm and sticky and the thought of
wearing them for the next week seemed impossible to bear.
Just then we heard the sound of some voices and Gary rushed to the
front of the cage dragging me over by the chain attached between
our collars. The heavy barred gate at the entrance to the cell
block opened and in walked a group of about 20 school girls
escorted by the governess. They were on a school visit to the
detention centre. The governess explained the various treatments
meted out to us and allowed the girls to explore the block by
themselves.
We were absolutely embarrassed to be seen like this. Two of the
girls came over to our cage and asked us why we needed to wear
plastic panties. We were ordered to pull them down to reveal our
firmly locked chastity belts. This attracted a larger group of
girls and a lot of giggling. One of them asked the governess if she
was sure we couldn't touch ourselves.
"See for yourself" she said. "You two, come over to the bars." We
complied. "Right girls, take it in turns to feel around the belt
and see if you can touch anything" This was too much. One of the
girls put her hand through the bars and tried to slide it under my
crotch guard. I felt her hands probing under the belt but she found
it impossible to touch my penis. I let out a gasp as the belt
punished my attempt at an erection. Gary was having similar
problems.
"Poor things" said one of the girls while sliding her hand between
my legs up to the metal confines of the belt. "Will they have to
wear them for long?"
"It depends" said the governess. "They have chemical castration
implants, though these take a little time to do their work. We
usually leave them on for a few weeks until they loose their
ability to get erections. It's safer that way."
All but one of the girls turned their attention to the two boys in
the cell next to us. They began asking about the scolds bridle and
amused themselves by asking Peter questions and laughing as he
tried to dribble answers through the restrictive metal mouthpiece.
They demanded to examine the chain joining their balls and checked
to see if it could be slipped off. To the two boys embarrassment
and discomfort it remained firmly in place.
The remaining girl was still playing with my belt and grabbed on of
my manacled hands and guided it between her legs to her pussy. This
resulted in my neck being pulled down by the chain attaching it to
the manacles. I maintained this position with some difficulty with
Gary pulled close beside me as I massaged her pussy.
We were distracted by this for several minutes and did not notice
that we were being watched. "That's enough" barked the governess "I
will deal with you later" she said to me. The girls were led back
out through the barred gate and we heard their excited chattering
fade into the distance.
With that we were ordered to unroll the mattresses and the lights
were dimmed for the night. Sleeping was difficult with the sound of
rattling chains and sobbing from some of the inmates. Several times
I was wakened by my belt denying me any sexual satisfaction as I
dreamed about the beautiful young girl I had met.
The following morning we were let out of the cells and taken to the
showers for cleaning. Breakfast was fed to us back in our cells.
Again we ate from the floor. For Peter, meals were a welcome relief
from his sentence in the scolds bridle. He looked quite different
with it off, with a pretty face and light brown hair. He looked
most upset when one of the guards appeared and locked it back on
his head with the mouthpiece preventing intelligible talk. The
bridle had a large padlock at the back of his head which clanked
ominously a he moved about.
We remained in our cages for another hour after which it was
punishment time. I was first on the list and removed from the cage.
I would receive a category six punishment. This was about as bad as
it got. It meant I would get 6 different regimes each of
indeterminate time.
Regime 1 started today. I was to spend 8 hours a day for a month in
the pillory. My collar was removed, together with my wrist and leg
irons and I was let over to the waiting device. With my neck and
wrists in place the heavy top half was swung down and locked. I
struggled in vain. Then my ankles were fastened to the waiting leg
irons and my imprisonment was complete.
Looking from side to side I could see my hands and knees. I could
not touch my face as the hand holes were too far from the centre of
the pillory. I could also make out the heavy metal reinforcement of
the wooden structure that held me fast. As I struggled to free
myself the pillory creaked a little but did not move a fraction of
an inch. I was totally trapped, about all I could do was to waggle
my bottom and move my legs the few inches that the chain allowed.
Next came the humiliation of having to suck all of the inmates in
the cell block once more. This seemed to be a special treat for
many of them, in particular a tall blonde boy who I had not seen
before. He was from a new intake and his implant had yet to do its
work, so his 4 inch penis duly spurted into my mouth. Poor old Gary
and some of the others looked on in envy while desperately pulling
at their impregnable chastity belts.
After about an hour of burying my face in hairless crutches I was
given a short break. It was during this time that I felt a hand
penetrate the waist of my plastic pants just above my tailbone. I
grew rigid at this violation but was trapped, locked helplessly in
the pillory and unable to prevent the intrusion. Inch by inch,
the hand made its way down the cleft of my buttocks, brushing the
nappies now damp from perspiration, until it found my rosebud.
After a little fumbling I felt the nimble fingers push something
inside me.
They had done something to me but what? I tried to get comfortable
in my forced kneeling position. I twisted my wrists and moved my
head around. Then I felt a mild burning deep inside my bottom. I
moved my legs and bottom to see if that would help but the burning
just got worse
Suddenly a spasm shot through me. Spasm after spasm then passed
through my body. I pulled at my restraints and moaned loudly.
Being held immobile by the pillory tortured me to such an extent
that I was forced to expel the contents of my bowels into my nappy.
Wave after wave overcame me until there was nothing left to expel.
I felt the sticky mess clinging to me trapped by my nappy and
squirmed in revulsion.
Above me stood the governess with a smile on her face. "Made a
little mess did we?" She asked. "I'm sorry, but we won't be able to
get you cleaned up until you are out of the pillory and that won't
be for a good while yet." She left and another group of inmates was
produced for me to service. The last three were girls, or at least
that is what they looked like.
They had pastel coloured frocks on and looked quite cute. If it
wasn't for the steel collars locked about their throats I would not
have thought they belonged in here. The one in pink approached slid
off a pair of frilly panties. She lifted up her short skirt and
presented her crotch to my face. But there was nothing there. A
small scar and lower down a little pee hole. I licked as best I
could wondering if something would happen. It then dawned on me
that these were not girls at all but neutered boys. I shuddered and
prayed that I had not been sentenced to the same fate.
The 'girl' I was licking grew impatient with me and lifted her
dress to reveal two small breasts which 'she' made me turn my
attentions to. This obviously gave her a deal more pleasure than
her crotch and she was soon panting with pleasure. But that was as
far as it went for the governess appeared put the 'girls' panties
over my head and sent everyone back to their cells.
I tried to shake the panties off, but they remained firmly planted
with the crotch over my nose and smelling as though they hadn't
been washed for several days.
After what seemed like hours I was released from the pillory. My
ankles were released and I stood up, stiff from my enforced
position. The guard removed the panties from my head and produced a
steel bridle like the one Peter had been wearing. The heavy metal
device was placed over my head the mouthpiece swung into position
and the padlock fastened at the back. The guard asked if I was
comfortable and I mumbled a thank you and succeeded in dribbling
out of the mouthpiece.
I was marched to the shower room where I was made to remove my
plastic panties and soiled nappy. The guard turned on the powerful
jets and hosed down my backside. I was given a towel and told to
dry and then marched off to another room.
This room contained a strap down table with leg spreaders and
something resembling a small fridge with cables coming out of it.
I was strapped to the table and told my fate. The machine was the
latest method for permanent hair removal. It used a powerful flash
lamp tuned to destroy the hair follicles. It was able to cover
large areas quickly and was 100% successful after only 3 treatments.
I wondered why they wanted to remove my hair as I had no noticeable
body hair anyway and had not realised they intended to render my
body incapable of growing hair in future.
After about 30 minutes I was turned over for my back parts to
receive a similar treatment and then released from the table. The
small hairs on my arms and legs now brushed off me leaving my body
totally hairless.
The governess then appeared and explained that the pillory regime
was to be repeated every day for the next month. During the rest of
the day and overnight I would have regime 2, the straitjacket and
bridle. She held up the straitjacket, a formidable looking garment
made of strong canvas with thick dark brown leather reinforcement
and leather straps.
The long sleeves hung to the floor and the straps from them twisted
around. There seemed to be straps and buckles hanging from every
part of the jacket.
The governess held the jacket at the collar and ordered me to put
my arms in.
Trembling, I pushed my hands into the sleeves. The canvas was thick
and smelt of stale sweat from previous use. The other guard pulled
the jacket from behind and my hands reached the ends of the sleeves
but remained encased in the leather reinforced ends.
I noticed the elbows were also reinforced in the same way. A brown
leather yoke went across the chest and a wide brown leather strip
was riveted to the front leading down to the crotch.
The guard started to strap the jacket up at the back and I felt
the jacket enclose and imprison me tighter and tighter. Next I
was put in a heavy duty disposable nappy and plastic knickers. The
top of the knickers was tucked up inside the jacket and then the
wide leather strap hanging between my legs was pulled back over my
plastic covered crotch. As the strap was pulled through a
corresponding buckle at the back I felt the jacket increase in
tension in every part and the strap pressured the area between my
legs.
They grabbed my arms and fed them through the hoops at the front
and side of the jacket and pulled on the straps connecting the two
sleeves behind me.
It was done, I was straitjacketed! I looked down at my crossed arms
and pulled. I strained, tugged and wriggled, but my arms remained
crossed.
"The way to get out of a straitjacket," said the governess "is to
work your arms up
over your head or down over your hips. You can forget that idea
with this jacket; the sleeves go through straps at the front and
on the side, which stop any up or down movement. No-one has ever
escaped from that jacket, and you won't either."
"One last thing, said the guard holding up a set of leg irons. We
can't have you running off now can we" She fastened them about my
ankles and gave the short chain a tug to make sure they were
secure.
I was led out of the room down a corridor to the cell block. There
set in the floor was a barred steel grate about 6 feet square. In
the middle was a hinged opening which the guard duly lifted up. The
walls and floor of the cell were padded! "No, no, please!" I
mumbled through the bridle "not in there!"
I was lowered through the opening the 8 feet to the cell floor.
With difficulty I rolled onto my back and looked up to see the
smiling governess as she slammed shut and locked the barred hatch.
I pulled at my arms desperately trying to get a little movement. If
I tried lifting them all I succeeded in doing was to increase the
pressure between my legs. I managed to get into a kneeling
position, but this also did not help me to free my self from my
enforced hug. So I attempted to stand. My first attempt ended
abruptly as my right leg used up all the slack in the chain and I
tripped over falling flat on my face, the bridles mouthpiece
ramming itself into my mouth.
I lay there panting with the effort and tried once more, but
whatever I did the leg irons managed to trip me up. So I got myself
into a kneeling position and waddled over to the side of the cell.
Once there I managed with great difficulty to lever myself up into
a standing position and was startled to hear clapping from above.
My efforts had been watched by an appreciative audience of other
inmates. How I wished for the relative freedom they had up there. I
noticed Peter was free from his bridle.
"You'll get used to it after about a week" he said looking at me
and pointing to his mouth.
"Great" I mumbled and dribbled. The boys were moved on and I stood
there propped up against the padded wall wondering how I was going
to manage a month of this.
I moved to the other wall, but the wretched leg irons succeeded in
tripping me up again and I went crashing to the floor. I wriggled
to the wall and listening to the creaking of the leather straps and
crackling of the plastic knickers I pushed my self into a sitting
position.
I looked down at the jacket holding me. Dirty white canvas and
brown leather. Dark brown leather. There was a leather yoke
riveted to the jacket in a semicircle under my chin.
I looked at the wide strip of leather with it's shiny rivets that
went from the yoke downwards. It disappeared behind my strapped
arms to the bottom of the jacket to become the crotch strap. And
there were my arms, neatly folded, nicely crossed in their strong
leather reinforced canvas sleeves. Reinforced at the elbows to
stop me rubbing against anything until a hole was worn, a hole
that I couldn't make anyway on soft padded walls.
I was naked under the jacket and it felt hard and unyielding on my
skin. If I could only bring my arms forward, I could get the jacket
off. I pulled. Somewhere out of my sight below my elbows, the
sleeves carried round, closed, riveted, reinforced sleeves that
went tightly around my waist to be strapped at the back along with
all the other straps that I couldn't see.
I decided to get to my feet. I pushed myself into the padded wall
I was leaning against and wriggled my way upwards until eventually
I was in the standing position. I tried the rational and logical
approach to extracting myself from the jacket. I shrugged my
shoulders backwards and forwards to work slack into the sleeves, I
wriggled my arms upwards towards my shoulders. I had moved them
about two inches up from my waist when the side straps stopped me
getting any further.
I contorted myself to try the same thing downwards over my hips
but after a promising couple of inches I just met with resistance.
I tried bracing my elbow against the wall to get some leverage but
my elbow just sank in, indenting the padding like the buttons
holding it in place. I was beginning to get warm now. I could
feel the bulk and plastic of the nappies between my legs and I
kept sliding down the wall, as the plastic did not grip the
canvas. My whole body was wet and perspiration trickled down from
my forehead, working its way through my eyebrows and into my eyes
causing them to sting. I wiped my face on the padding, realising
what the source of a lot of the other stains were. I sank to my
knees.
This place was starting to drive me mad, everything rounded off,
even the floor was like walking on a sponge, like trying to stand
steady on a trampoline. I pushed my elbow against my knee; at least
here I could get a bit of solid leverage. I tipped over. I rolled
over onto my back. In a straitjacket, a padded cell,
straitjacket! Straitjacket! No one has ever got out of that
jacket and you won't either. No one. Ever! I pulled at the
sleeves with all my strength, I violently rolled over, I shook
right and left, I wriggled, I kicked out with my legs, I pushed on
my shoulders and pushed my legs up the wall, all the time trying to
free my arms, to get some movement into the sleeves so tightly
strapped to my body. I screamed screams of frustration.
With every contortion the crutch strap bit into my plastic covered
and padded crotch. The straitjacket creaked as it was twisted this
way and that, my knickers rustled as my legs rubbed against each
other as they went into violent motion to offer support to the
straining arms. I struggled. I fought. I wrestled. I strained.
I tugged and pulled. Finally, with a loud scream of anger and
deep frustration, I fell onto my imprisoned arms and let the sweat
pour off me into the deep wells where the padding was hammered to
the floor.
I was hot and exhausted. If only I could wipe my face on my
sleeve, run my fingers through my matted hair. If only I could
move my fingers a little in their thick, unyielding sleeves.
"Help me, someone" I mumbled aloud through the bridles restrictive
mouthpiece. I felt the need for a pee. I tied holding on but nature
took its course and I flooded the inside of my nappy adding further
to my discomfort and sense of helplessness. The steamy liquid
worked its way around my bottom. I cried myself to sleep.
Some sound woke me up. I tried to focus my eyes on the padded
floor an inch or so from my face. I felt clammy, damp and cold.
Where was I? A split second later as I tried to get up it all came
back to me and I realised that I was still very much a prisoner.
With effort and with a lot of digging my feet into the canvas, I
managed to roll over.
"Enjoy yourself last night did you" asked one of the guards
standing over me on the barred ceiling of my cell. I mumbled an
unintelligible reply.
"We had better get you out of there and ready for your next
session". She unlocked the heavy hatch and lowered some steps. My
leg irons were unlocked and I was helped up the steps to the main
cell block. There they unlocked my bridle and gave me a dog bowl of
breakfast and a large bottle of liquid.
After breakfast I had my punishment jacket removed and was left
chained to a post for a short while before being led back to the
dreaded pillory to greet the new intake and spend hours being held
rigidly immobile. It was during my confinement that I had the first
hot flush of many that were to follow. I reported this to one of
the guards who promptly gave a big smile and informed me that the
castration implant was obviously doing its job.
The rest of the month took ages to pass. I was kept almost
continuously in either the pillory or the straitjacket and bridle.
During this time I was never out of nappies and I began to use them
without thinking. I had developed a rash, but liberal amounts of
cream had been applied and this soon cleared.
The other thing I noticed was that after about a week I no longer
got painful reminders from my chastity belt. I was concerned enough
to try to force an erection and the subsequent reminder but was
unsuccessful. After 2 weeks the nurse took a blood sample from me
and I then had my chastity belt removed.
The relief of having this infernal contraption removed was immense.
I looked down at my shrunken penis and was shocked to see that my
balls had disappeared. They had been forced into my abdomen for so
long that they did not come down and I looked for all the world as
though I had been physically castrated.
I was washed thoroughly and then tested for sexual activity. Gary
and Peter were brought into the room. Gary was still in his belt.
Gary was ordered to suck me, which he did with enthusiasm, but
although it was pleasurable, I managed only a fleeting half hearted
erection which quickly subsided.
Peter gave me a hand job with similar results, so it looked as
though I would not have to wear the belt anymore. I did not know
whether to be happy or sad at this outcome. I was chained to the
wall while Peter & Gary were led away and while alone I tried
desperately to stimulate my flaccid penis. I did about as much good
as Peter had.
While waiting attached to the wall without thinking I peed. As I
had no nappy this had predictable results and a large puddle at my
feet was evidence of my lack of control. I was surprised when the
nurse did not severely admonish me. She explained that since I had
trouble controlling myself nappies were probably the best solution.
During my final days in the straitjacket I tried desperately to get
some stimulation into my penis from the crotch strap but the nappy
made an effective barrier to stimulation and although I did manage
one or two fleeting erections, orgasms seemed impossible despite
all my contortions.
At long last I was free from my first two punishments and I made
sure to thank the governess for removing my bridle and jacket for
the last time.
I was not free from encumbrances for long. I soon had the standard
issue set of irons on me, the steel collar attached to the manacles
and leg irons. This was nothing like a bad as the strait jacket as
I could move fairly freely, but the chains and irons were very
heavy and quite tiring to have to lug around all the time.
Before I had my leg irons attached I was given a small jock strap.
I had never worn one before, and was unsure what to do with it. I
was helped into it and pulled it up to my waist. It was very small
and had no pouch as such, just a strong flat piece of material at
the front and two tight elastic straps going between my legs. The
front could not have been more than about two inches wide at the
point were it attached to the waistband, so it really did not
conceal very much. In fact I felt more self conscious wearing it
than not as it drew attention to my backside and lack of very much
at the front. The front was drawn so tight by the straps that my
non functioning balls disappeared inside my body once more.
"This is a privilege. The last boy to wear it lost the right after
misbehaving. If you make sure you don't wet yourself and behave
correctly you can continue to wear it" I was told. So no more
chastity belt, no more nappies. Things were looking good.
I was led back to the cells and placed in the one next to Gary with
Chris. Chris was now out of his metal waist belt and wore a similar
set of irons to myself, but he still had only the four feet of
chain linking him to the back wall of the cage. My collar was
attached to a similar piece of chain and the cage door locked.
Gary was looking upset. Apparently he had at least another week to
do in his chastity belt. He offered to suck me and I moved over to
the cage side but my chain kept me a few inches short so he had to
go without. Chris had declined his offer, but seemed keen to offer
his services to me instead. He went down on his knees slid the
front of my jock strap to the side and started to caress my penis.
He began sucking it gently in his mouth. Now I realised what the
other boys were getting from me in the pillory. The feeling was
wonderful and my little penis even started to grow slightly before
collapsing again. He continued for what seemed like ages and my
penis tried valiantly to respond but eventually shrivelled back
into my body. I hid it back behind my jock strap.
I thanked Chris for his attentions. "Its the least I could do" he
said "Do you realise you have done the same to me and the other
boys over 30 times while you were locked into that pillory" I said
I had not and that it was difficult to keep looking up when locked
in that infernal contraption. I had just concentrated on the bits
thrust in front of my face.
Two cages away, Peter was now on his own. James was in the medical
centre being emasculated. Peter had been freed from the steel ring
encircling his balls, but worryingly for him was now forced into
wearing a pink and white frock and a panty girdle. He actually
looked quite cute, a fact that did not go down too well with him.
Although he was obviously concerned at the dress, one of the
immediate advantages was that 'dress status' meant lighter more
feminine restraints. So his leg irons were now regular Hiatt 19th
century type attached to his handcuffs with a lighter chain. His
collar was also thinner and less heavy though it did have a round
bell attached which took very little movement to make it start
ringing.
The next day I was handed part 3 of my punishment. Peter & James'
ball chain was produced and I learned I was to be chained to Chris
for 8 weeks. Chris had been involved in some minor infraction, so
they were able to punish us both at the same time.
I was made to spread my legs and the small metal ring was hinged
open. Expertly, the guard encircled my sac with the ring above my
balls. She pushed it together and locked it shut with a large pair
of tongs that took some effort to close.
She checked the ring closely for fastness and gave it a firm pull.
This caused me quite a lot of pain as my balls were stretched away
from my body.
Now the attached chain with the other ring was passed out backwards
between my legs. Chris was ordered to press his bottom up to mine
and the chain was passed through his legs to his front and likewise
attached to his balls.
The chain was tugged again and we both let out a yelp. It looked as
though we would be inseparable!
The jock strap was now too painful to use as it squashed my balls
tightly against the ring. I couldn't remove it as my leg irons were
in the way, so I pulled it to one side.
I examined the ring carefully. It was just possible to make out the
mating surfaces where it hinged and met together. The fit was
perfect. It was stainless steel roughly two fifths of an inch thick
and small enough in circumference to make removal impossible
without opening it first. I was unable to see any obvious key hole
and how it unlocked was a mystery. Clearly if puberty had been
allowed to take its natural course the ring would have eventually
cut off all blood supply to my balls.
The twisted link stainless chain attached to a rotating eye in its
side and was clearly very strong indeed. In the centre of the chain
was a small ring which could presumably be used for attaching other
items.
Chris was long legged and about 6 inches taller than me so the
attaching chain was worse for me as it got pulled up my crack at
full stretch. Despite our care to avoid this it happened all too
frequently as the chain was only about 12 inches long.
Another result was that we could no longer give each other a blow
job as the chain was just too short. We tried, but it was too
painful. We looked wistfully at each others shrunken dicks but it
was not to be.
The only blow jobs we got were from the regular intake of new
inmates locked into the pillories. It was pleasant to be on the
receiving end for a change, though I did feel sorry for some of the
more timid boys put through this punishment. You would see them
writhing, trying to free themselves from the unyielding pillories
and the pitiful look in their eyes as they were faced with their
task.
Using the bucket was also awkward with one of us having to sit on
the floor while the other went about his business.
Sleeping was often painful. Many times, one of us would roll beyond
the allowable distance set by the chain giving us both a painful
wake up call as our balls got pulled.
When moving around the compound to do our chores we would hold
hands to lessen the chance of hurting ourselves.
During the morning and early afternoon we had to attend school
lessons. These were really no different to a normal schools except
of course for our predicament.
Bad work or misbehaviour in class was unwise as each school room
had a selection of unpleasant devices for punishment purposes.
Our desks sat two a piece. They were of strong wooden construction
and each had two adjustable hinged steel belts attached by 4 inches
of chain to the back. We were locked into these for our lessons.
On the desk top were 4 wrist irons spaced two feet apart and with a
9 inch chain fixing them to the desk. We were released from our
manacles and put into these for lessons.
Our classroom had two standing pillories and a very unpleasant set
of horizontal stocks. This consisted of two holes about 18 inches
apart into which the standing victim's ankles were locked and
another set in front of them for the wrists. An adjustable height
horizontal bar about 4 inches round was set between them. The
victim was then bent over the bar and had his wrists secured.
The riding crop was then used to administer six whacks on the boys
backside which was of course totally exposed. The pain and
humiliation had the poor unfortunate begging for mercy in no time,
but they were usually left with their bottoms jutting into the air
for a good while before being released.
After lessons we had exercise. This was taken on a treadmill or one
of the horizontal wheels and usually lasted for an hour.
During the rest of the day we had cleaning duties to do and were
then locked in our cages, typically from 4pm until the following
morning.
After a few weeks Chris and I grew used to our continually enforced
closeness. Sometimes we would deliberately give a pull on our chain
to surprise the other. We did not so much enjoy the punishment, we
just accepted it as part of our daily routine. As the 8 week
sentence drew to a close I became apprehensive about the next
punishment. There seemed to be no shortage of things they could do
to us.
We had our metal rings removed by similar tongs to those that had
sealed them. I felt my freed balls. There was a red mark on my sac
where the ring had rested, but otherwise things seemed OK.
I was led out alone to my fourth punishment. This I learnt was to
be daily confinement in small cages for two weeks. There were a
variety of such cages. They had inch thick bars spaced two and a
half inches apart passing through horizontal half inch thick flat
sections every 8 inches.
The first one I was put in was 3ft by 3 ft by 4 ft long. It had a
steel floor with a thinly padded vinyl covering. The entry was a
small vertically sliding section I had to crawl through on my hands
and knees. The entrance was lowered and secured with two heavy duty
padlocks.
I looked around my new home. I could sit but not stand. Movement
was on hands and knees. I could lie with my knees bent. The cage
was very robust and because of the close spacing of the bars I
could only put one hand or foot a short way through before the
chain link to the other brought it up short.
I was forced into nappies again for my stay in the cages. This
humiliation seemed to be one of the correction facilities
favourites.
The cage was set in the centre of one of the corridors so I got
plenty of visitors. Occasionally I would be asked by one of the
boys for a blow job. One of the rules of the cage was that I had to
oblige if asked, so I would press my face up to the bars and do my
best, occasionally being rewarded with a few drops.
One regular visitor used to lie on top of my cage while I worked
him from below. He said he enjoyed seeing me locked in my small
prison and thought I thoroughly deserved to be in there. He took
particular delight when I had a full nappy and used to put his
hands through the bars and press it into my bottom.
I was glad when the two weeks was up. Some of the cages had been
very cramped, one was even suspended from the ceiling at about 4
feet off the ground.
I was not so happy to discover that my next punishment was to be
forced into girls clothes. The thing that worried me was that there
was no time limit set.
My frock was held up in front of me. It had short puffed up sleeves
and a low lace neck. The skirt was short and billowed out. It was
pink like Peter's with white lace trim.
I was unchained and presented with a firm white satin panty girdle
with a little lace bow on the front. I pulled it up with difficulty
as it was quite tight. The guard reached up behind my legs and
pulled my little penis back between my legs. The girdle went up
over my hips. It constricted my stomach and waist quite severely
accentuating my bottom. My genitals disappeared from view leaving
only a slight feminine mound.
Then I was presented with a little trainer bra with a small bit of
padding. The guard helped me on with it fastening it at the back.
It was very strange wearing a bra for the first time. I looked down
at the small pretend breasts and prayed that I would never need to
wear one for real.
My frock was put over my head and zipped up at the back. The skirt
only just covered my bottom. I was given some white socks and pink
shoes to put on and the guard fastened a bow to my hair and tied a
sash about my middle with a large bow at the back.
"You will need to be more dainty in these clothes so we are
restricting your ankle chain" said the guard. I was then locked in
leg irons similar to Peter's. These permitted only 10 inch steps.
My collar was fitted with a bell and a name tag - Mary. From now on
I was to be called Mary.
I was led back to my cell past the rows of other cages where the
boys whistled and stared. I blushed and stared at the floor as I
minced along in shot hobbled steps, my bell summoning all to come
and stare.
Chris waited chained to the back wall as usual.
"Wow, you look amazing" he said, eyeing me up at down.
"Lift your skirt and lets take a look at your panties" he sniggered.
"Oh my God!" He exclaimed. "Did they remove your penis and balls?"
"No" I replied. "And they are not panties. Its a panty girdle and
its extremely tight"
"You poor love" he said with mock concern. I went and sat next to
him. "They gave me your old jock strap" he said, indicating the
somewhat stained piece of minimal clothing around his waist.
"Come to think of it where are your penis and balls?" I asked
pointing at the smooth crotch.
"It does rather compress everything, doesn't it? he replied.
I pulled his jock strap side ways and coaxed his little penis out.
I gently massaged it as he put his hand up my skirt and rubbed
between my legs.
My life continued in girls clothes. I was put in a different dress
every few days. They were all terribly pretty.
Because I was a "girl" I was allowed to eat at a table with a
spoon. I was not allowed to stand at the toilet anymore though
as "girls don't do that". My penis had to always be pointing
downwards and I was subject to occasional checks.
I was in demand for giving blow jobs. My status now meant I could
not refuse to give one to anyone who asked. Unfortunately, I was
not allowed to receive any though.
After about a year I was reminded I still had a punishment left. I
had forgotten all about this. Since I looked so pretty as a "girl"
and was popular with the boys the governess had decided I should
become one, or more strictly cease to be a boy.
I shuddered at the news. I had seen what had happened to the other
eunuchs and had dreaded this happening to me.
I was taken down to the medical ward and prepared for surgery.
Strapped to the operating table with my legs spread wide and held
up high I was told to take a final look at my "boyhood". Then I was
injected and within a few seconds was out cold.
I came around slowly in the ward. I was unable to move, strapped
down with thick leather straps. It took a while for me to remember
what I was doing there. Then it clicked. I looked down but was
unable to see anything under the blankets covering me.
I felt a dull ache in my crotch and realised they must have cut me.
I sobbed as I pondered my life after release, not as a man albeit a
very late developing one but as a girl.
My first look at my new sexless crotch came as a shock, even though
I knew what to expect. It was now completely smooth. I had a small
pee hole in front of my anus and that was it. There were not even
any stitches as I had been expertly glued together. As the area
healed over the next few days and the swelling and redness
diminished I began to look as though I had been born that way.
Once the soreness had gone I tentatively felt myself. There was no
pleasure to be had from this, just the confirmation that I was
indeed a sexless eunuch.
I had been sitting to use the toilet for many months but after my
catheter was removed I had my first experience of peeing without a
penis. I quickly discovered that I had to lean forward and keep my
legs spread to avoid covering my legs and bottom with urine. Wiping
would be a must from now on.
I learned that my penis had been totally removed from the root
inside my body, so that I would no longer feel any last vestige of
it. But there was one final surprise left in store for me.
"You were only just at the very start of puberty when you arrived
at the institute" said the doctor "Obviously with the implants
you haven't progressed any further and now that you have been
gelded you would not normally develop further. So that you can get
some experience of puberty we thought we would put you on
testosterone for a few months. You needn't worry, we won't let you
develop too far and loose that beautiful voice of yours, but it
would be a shame if you didn't experience the full force of a
teenage sex drive."
To be honest I did not understand what she was going on about.
Anyway they then removed my implant and inserted another one with
the testosterone. I was then dressed in my frock and given some
frilly panties, chained and led back to the cages in the cell block.
I was locked in with Chris again. He could not wait to get a look
at my new crotch. "They really did it to you didn't they?" said
Chris. "Well, there won't be any more blow jobs for you"
I put my hand between his legs and tried to imagine that what I was
feeling was mine.
After a few days I began experiencing the new hell that I was being
subjected to by the testosterone. I became very sexually aware and
desperate to play with my non-existent penis to get some relief. I
got more and more sexually frustrated, to the point where I could
think of very little else. I would lie on the mattress, thrusting
my hips up and down and grinding my crutch into it in my
frustration. I rubbed my crotch with my hand but again it did
nothing for me except to make matters worse.
In my dreams I would imagine my self whole once more and taking
delight in my sexual adventures. One night, several months after my
operation I had a wet dream. I woke up to feel a sticky mess
dribbling out of my hole into my panties. I felt some relief at
last from the months of torture, but short changed in that I had
had none of the pleasure that I could remember from my first
experiences before I was sentenced.
The torture continued for another six months. It was then that my
testosterone implant was exhausted and the supply to my body
stopped. I was once more sexless, though by now I preferred it this
way.
The female hormone therapy was started on me. My breasts started to
grow and felt tender. My hips filled out a bit and I acquired a
fuller bottom. By the time I was released from the institute, I
had, dare I say it, become quite a pretty girl.
I now live with Chris. Chris seems to have had permanent damage
done to his testicles as even now he still can't get more than a
very fleeting erection. His penis grew very slightly to about 4
inches during one of his rare stiff moments, but has not progressed
since. His voice is still unbroken.
Occasionally we see the cage trucks driving to the institute with a
new intake of chained boys for the reformatory. |
She Wants a Winner | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | She made me rip another man's balls off! | ` She wants a winner`
Linda my mistress wife was absolutely in a rage when we got home. God dam it
bill you let that husband of Barbara's almost pull your balls off! I hate her!
She thinks she's so superior because her male had the biggest balls their
tonight. Well listen to me Bill at the next party you're going to have the
biggest balls of anyone there! Do you understand me? I don't like to lose
especially to someone like Barbara.
Earlier that night at mistress Karens. Me and Barbara's new husband Tom. Were
connected by our balls with a strap. As the two women sat on either end of the
room with their legs spread wide ordering us to service them with our tongues.
Tom had a really big set of balls bigger than mine and I had pretty big balls!
But his were enormous big heavy things like tennis balls. We both started
pulling to get closer to our partners cunts. Being urged on by the other four
couples their. My balls were being stretched back through my thighs as I tried
to move forward. We were both grunting and pulling trying to reach each
other's Mistress. I could almost smell my Lindas pussy when suddenly Tom let
out a loud grunt dragging me backwards. I saw Lindas eyes and the
disappointment on Lindas face as Tom dragged me back by my balls! I collapsed
in pain. My ball sack was stretched thin and the choke knot holding them
slipped pulled off thank god he hadn't riped my balls off! I layed their in
front of Linda moaning in pain. Knowing she had lost to Barbara She got up
with a disappointed face saying! Get your sorry ass balls out to the car and
wait for me!
Well that was three weeks ago and now I'm in the process of developing bigger
balls under Linda's supervision. She spent hours on the Internet researching
everything she could find about making a males testicles bigger. When finally
done she had a regiment all planned out for me. Three hours a day she would
work on them stretching, pulling, beating, injecting. I would carry a five
pound dumbell attached to them all day long giving me exercises to do. To pull
the weight up with my stomach muscles. At first I couldn't move the weight up
but after awhile I was lifting the five pounds up with ease, and after about
six months my balls were really getting big, the size of oranges and hanging
almost to my knees. One night Linda was shaving my ball sac carefully holding
them up. She was beaming with pride! Saying these are beautiful balls Bill!
You should be very proud at what I've done for you! Your balls are magnificent
now! I can't wait until the other girls see them! They'll be so jealous!
Especially Barbara she thinks her male has such big balls wait until she sees
what I've done with you!
Saying that carefully drying them she pulled me by the balls into the living
room attaching a rope with a slip knot strangling them and then attaching the
other end to a couch leg she pulled up a chair about two foot away removed her
shorts and spread her legs for me saying! Come on Bill pull that couch over
here and eat me! I got down on all fours taking up the slack I started pulling
my balls stretching backwards..
Come on big boy you can do it come to Linda!
I grunted and pulled hard but the couch being on the carpet wouldn't move. I
was grunting trying thinking. "Oh God Oh God" Help me I can do this god help
me!!! Suddenly the couch moved. Linda started screamed yes Bill your doing it
Bill keep pulling baby! Pull those balls for me! Finally my mouth touched her
pussy. I was so proud of my self and at my balls at being able to accomplish
such a feat, the couch must have weighed almost 200 pounds and with the
carpets surface probably like about 600 pounds of dead weight. Linda grabbed
the back of my head and pulling my face into her cunt and I was in heaven!!
Two weeks later there was another party everyone was their. Barbara and her
big bull husband Tom and a couple of new wives with their husbands. Linda had
me completely naked except for a robe. When we entered the party she went
straight to Barbara and whispered something in her ear. Barbara looked over at
me and whispered something back into Lindas ear I couldn't hear. "Sure
girlfriend if you think he's man enough" !!!! This time!!
Mistress Barbara stepped forward and made an announcement.
Linda has just challenged me to a contest between her male against my male, as
to who has the strongest set of balls. My Tom or her Bill1
Linda walked over to me kissing me on the cheek. Then opened my robe exposing
my manhood for all to see. There was stunned silences! Their eyes focusing on
my enormous balls. Spreading my legs wide making my big dangling sack swing
from side to side. Barbara and Tom were shocked at the slight! My balls were
almost twice as big as his and every cock in the room immediately reared in
tribute to me! I stood with pride the essence of the male.
Ok Linda said lets get this contest going!!
Me and Tom when to the center of the room and waited for are wives to connect
us together. Barbara worked on her husband. While Linda worked on me pulling
the choke strap tight around my sack than giving my balls a squeeze saying
don't disappoint me Bill because if you do I'll cut these big things off you!
We both got down on all fours and stretched are balls tight. The girls
arranged their chairs on either side of the room about three feet from our
heads. I could hear the comments from the other women, as my balls were
stretched almost a foot from my ass. Look at the size of those balls!!!!!
Saying to their men! Why don't you have big balls like that you wimp, or if I
had a man that big I'ed cut that sack off and make a purse or something out of
it.
Suddenly the contest started, Tom tried to get the upper hand by yanking hard
with all his strength which caught me off guard. He pulled me back I screamed
in pain! "Jesus Christ you bastard". Barbara was screaming at him yelling rip
his balls off!!!! Tom!!! Rip his balls off baby! Linda was shocked at me being
pulled backwards by Toms balls after all the training and practicing we've
done. I recovered quickly and letting out a loud grunt pulled him back to
where we started with ease. Again he pulled with all his strength! But this
time I was ready for him. I easily pulled him back and kissed one of my Lindas
thighs gently, then pulling harder kissed her mound. Barbara was screaming at
Tom seeing how easily I was staying between Lindas legs.
Tom was struggling and pulling as his Mistress whipped his ass with a long
riding crop. Suddenly I launched forward with all my strength! Hearing screams
from the other couples watching us!!!!!!
I had ripped Toms balls off!!!!! My mouth sealed to her at that moment
shuddering in orgasm watching Toms balls being torn off by me. Yes Yes Yes she
screamed.. "''You big balled bastards you riped his balls off"!!!! You just
ripped his balls off!!!
Linda was breathing hard in a state of unbelievable sexual excitement at the
site of her man ripping the balls off another male. I too at the thought of
what I had just accomplished sent me into such an erotic state that my swollen
cock started discharging ropes of cum on the floor without being touched,
never before in my life had that happened, but no one noticed all eyes were
focused on Toms stretched balls sack laying beneath his thighs.
Slowly we all recovered from the scene. Barbara said nothing just looking down
at her husbands balls lying their. I still on all fours nursing the last of
Linda's fluids. She finally pushed my head away slowly recovering she order me
up to standing and unfastened the strap around my balls, slapping my ass and
gently padding my balls! "Good Boy Baby"
Tom was bleeding pretty good and one of the Women one of the new ones applied
a wet towel to wear his balls used to be. Barbara got up with disdain and
kicked his balls across the floor saying! Well I was was going to cut them off
anyway. Your male won!!! Linda his balls are the biggest! But there next year
girl.
Linda and Barbara were all smiles kind of like makeup sex or something.
Congratulateing each other. Lets see this big guy of yours girl.
Linda ordered me to let Barbara examine me! . Barber reached under me and
lifted my balls feeling their size and weight. God Linda you've got to show me
how you developed this guy into this stud. Check him out girls! She said to
the otherS their. They all took turns lifting and pulling my balls as Linda
stood back admiring her handy work! I looked over at Linda and knew she was
proud of me! I proudly displayed my manhood for all the women their, their
hands were gentle but sometimes rough as they handle me. Their husbands stood
silent. I could see some with enormous hardon's as they watched their women
handle me! They were jealous I knew, just being in the same room with a male
with such enormous balls frightened them. Because next year they could be them
lying their with their balls ripped off!
Ok enough ladies!!!! Linda said suddenly. My long legged goddess pulled my
balls from the hands of her friends. He's mind don't forget girls. I'll teach
you guys how to get your men into shape and next year will have of real
contest ok.
The rest of the evening was devoted to methods and training of how to get your
males balls bigger.
That night at home Linda allowed me to service her with my cock as a reaward
for my performance. Bill I want you to have bigger balls baby, the biggest
balls of any man on earth. You ripped the balls off that man tonight. How did
you feel when you knew you had done it? She lifted my ball sac up, laying it
on my stomach rubbing her hand gently over them. Tell me how did it feel to
rip another man's balls off with yours? You came. I saw you didn't you?
I started crying thinking of what I had just done to Tom.
OH god Linda I tore his balls off!!! I riped the balls off another man!! I
cried. God I tore his balls off with mind!!! God Linda? What did you make me
do? I tore his balls off Linda! I hate you! I hate my balls! I hate what
you've done to me, look at these things I can't even walk right because of
what you've done to me!
Linda took my balls in her hand holding them saying! I gave you these! I could
easily take them away. Look at the size of them, look at how much of a man you
are! But remember I could crush them right now if I wanted to. I could rip
your entire sac off if I wanted to just like you did to Tom! Do you understand
what I could do to you? She didn't squeeze or anything she just let them drop
back onto my belly.
I want you bigger do you understand Bill? "I want winner"
[First Timer and all other Authors, please read this thread about quote marks.
Click here. Thank
you.](http://web.archive.org/web/20100213031235/http://www.eunuch.org/vbulletin/showthread.php?t=3841)
This is the last story that gets posted without proper quotation punctuations.
The End
* * * |
Masterbation cure | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, MINOR | David is a masterbation adict but the cure is on its way. | Young David just couldn't leave his little cock alone. Day or night whenever
he was alone he would be playing with it. Every night he would grab his balls
in one hand and pinch the end of his foreskin with the other squeesing and
pinching over and over till his legs would shake and that hot feeling shot
down his spine to the tip of his cock and spunk shot out all over his hand in
three quick spurts then several smaller ones as his cock would begin to
shrink. He was ashamed whenever he did this but just couldn't stop.
Yesterday he was alone, as usual he had his cock out playing with it as he
looked at the women in some magazines in their undies. He stroked his cock
till is was stiff and throbbing but not quite spurting cum then letting it
soften and watched as it pusated with every heart beat as it shrank. He was
making it hard again when the doorbell rang. He pulled his pants up and went
to and opened the front door. The two women on the step one about 20 and the
other about 30 showed a government insignia and asked to come in.
Once inside they dragged him to the kitchen and tied him to a chair. They
forced a gag into his mouth, pulled off his short pants and pulled his cock
and balls out of his undies. The two women stripped to their undier pants and
david stared at their breasts and his winkle began to stiffen again. They
explained they were sent to stop him wasting his spunk once and forever. Then
the younger one got between his legs and put the tip of his foreskin into her
mouth and bit the tip of it off. Then bit and bit again till the foreskin was
totally separated from his cock. She stood and continued to chew on it then
swallowed it down. The older women got between his legs and grasping with her
teeth just behind his knob bit down harder and harder untill it came away into
her mouth and this she swallowed with delight. The younger woman then joined
her and they took turns and bit and chewed all the way down to the last. With
the last bite his cock was totally gone and along with his blood spunk oozed
out. A spout was insurted to let his urine out then the stub was clamped off
to stop him bleeding to death. The women then cleaned themselves up, dressed
and as they left he heard the younger one say that he wouldn't masterbate any
more. Then the older one said the smaller ones always tasted the best.
* * * |
Am Abgrund | GAY, WARNING | Wenn man einen Spaziergang am Abgrund macht, muss man sich nicht wundern, wenn man schließlich in die Tiefe fällt.Cornelius verliert nicht nur seine Ehre...sondern auch seine Männlichkeit. | Wenn man glaubte, dass einen das Schicksal nicht noch schlimmer treffen
konnte, dann wurde es zumeist noch sehr viel schlimmer. Das Leben war nun
einmal nicht fair, dass war ihm bewusst, aber auch mit diesem Wissen wurde es
nicht fairer. Cornelius stieß einen leisen Seufzer aus, rieb sich verzweifelt
die Augen, als würde er dadurch aus einem Alptraum erwachen und im nächsten
Moment in seinem wohl behüteten Zuhause aufwachen.
Aber diese Zeiten waren leider vorbei. Inzwischen gab es niemanden mehr, der
ihn ständig schützte, ihn leitete und ihm wenn nötig aus der Patsche half.
Cornelius war nunmehr zwanzig. Genau genommen würde er nächste Woche seinen
zwanzigsten Geburtstag feiern. Und er hatte noch immer nichts zustande
gebracht. Seine Eltern hatten es ihm ermöglicht zur Schule zu gehen und
anschließend eine Lehre zu beginnen, an der er jedoch gescheitert war.
Tatsächlich waren es nicht die Aufgaben gewesen, die sein Meister ihm gegeben
hatte. Die Glaserei war genau das richtige für ihn gewesen. Es hatte ihm Spaß
gemacht. Der Fehler, den er gemacht hatte, war der, dass er sich an eine der
Auszubildenden herangemacht hatte. Eigentlich war es etwas völlig harmloses
gewesen und die Initiative war auch mehr von ihr ausgegangen, aber das hatte
seinen Meister nicht sehr interessiert. Vor allem deshalb nicht, weil es seine
Tochter gewesen war. Eine Tatsache, die Cornelius auf schmerzhafte Art und
Weise hatte verstehen müssen. Anschließend hatte er also keinen Job mehr
gehabt und sein Vater hatte ihn ebenfalls mit den Worten raus geschmissen,
dass er doch endlich sein Leben in den Griff bekommen möge.
Der Junge stieß sich von der Wand ab, nahm seinen Rucksack mit den paar
Habseligkeiten in die Hand und ging weiter durch die Stadt. Er hoffte
inständig, dass er einen anderen Betrieb finden konnte, wo er eine Ausbildung
machen konnte. Eine andere Glaserei würde wohl nicht zu finden sein, was hieß,
dass er sich einen anderen Beruf aussuchen musste. Das gefiel ihm ganz und gar
nicht, aber viel Auswahl blieb ihm ja nicht. Er hatte ja gerade genug Geld um
noch ein paar Nächte irgendwo unter zukommen. Bevor er einen neuen Beruf
hatte, konnte er seinem Vater ja auch kaum unter die Augen treten.
Etwas am Rande der Stadt, wo er sich inzwischen befand, gab es ein kleines
Wirtshaus. Es war wohl mehr eine Kneipe, denn etwas anderes, aber draußen war
an einem Schild zu lesen, dass auch Zimmer vermietet wurden. Cornelius
schulterte den Rucksack und betrat das kleine Wirtshaus. Schnell beschloss er
sich das Zimmer nachher zu mieten und saß wenige Minuten später alleine an
einem Tisch. Alleine nur mit etwas zum Essen. Es war deftige Kost, die er sehr
genoss. Im Moment wusste er ja nicht, wie die nächste Zeit für ihn aussehen
würde. Gesättigt lehnte er sich zurück, legte die Hände in den Schoß und
dachte nach, welche Betriebe es wohl noch alles in der Stadt gab. Plötzlich
setzte sich ihm jemand gegenüber. Ein Mann, vielleicht Anfang zwanzig, also
kaum älter als er selbst, mit langen, ordentlich gepflegten, schwarzen Haaren,
die ihm elegant bis unter die Schultern reichten. Zu den langen Haaren völlig
unpassend trug er ein Jacket.
"Guten Abend", sagte dieser nun mit einem Lächeln.
"Ich glaube nicht, dass wir verabredet waren", sagte Cornelius barsch. "Und
ich habe sie auch nicht darum gebeten, sich hierhin zu setzen."
"Ganz ruhig", meinte sein Gegenüber noch immer mit einem Lächeln. "Ich tue ja
nichts. Darf ich mich vorstellen? Mein Name ist Jonathan. Und du bist..."
Da Cornelius schwieg, machte Jonathan nur eine abwinkende Bewegung mit der
Hand.
"Ich dachte mir, wir sollten uns vielleicht unterhalten. Du könntest meine
Hilfe be-nötigen."
Cornelius rollte als Antwort mit den Augen, hob die Hand kurz, um die
Bedingung zu sich heranzuholen.
"Die Rechnung bitte", meinte er.
"Sehr gerne", erwiderte die Kellnerin und verschwand.
"Ich sehe schon, du bist nicht zum Plaudern aufgelegt. Aber hör' mal zu,
Cornelius."
Dieses Mal zuckte der Junge zusammen, blickte sein mysteriöses Gegenüber
unsicher ist. Woher wusste der seinen Namen? Kannte er ihn vielleicht?
"Du brauchst Hilfe", fuhr Cornelius unbeirrt fort. "Du bist knapp bei Kasse,
hast kein Zuhause und keinen Job. Was wäre, wenn ich dir ein kleines Angebot
mache, dass dir helfen wird? Hm?"
"Fahren Sie fort", murmelte Cornelius nach einiger Zeit.
"Ganz einfach. Wir fahren zu mir, machen die natürlichste Sache der Welt und
du bekommst dafür von mir...sagen wir 3000 Euro. Wie klingt das?"
"Vergiss es. Ich bin nicht schwul. Sowas mache ich nicht mit."
"Das Problem ist, dass du bald keine Wahl mehr hast. Wie viel Geld hast du
noch? Einhundert? Zweihundert? Oder weniger? Wie schnell findest du wohl einen
Betrieb, der dich so dir-nichts-mir-nichts aufnehmen wird? Wohl kaum
sonderlich schnell. Also. Eine Nacht und du bist 3000 Euro reicher. Nach
dieser Nacht wirst du dir um nichts mehr Sorgen machen müssen. Das verspreche
ich dir. Also?"
Cornelius legte verzweifelt sein Gesicht in die Hände. Das war entwürdigend.
Er sank tiefer als tief. Das ging doch nicht. Auch wenn 3000 Euro sicherlich
dafür sorgen würden, dass er, wenn nötig, sogar in eine andere Stadt fahren
konnte. 3000 Euro wiederholte er innerlich. Für eine Nacht der Demütigung?
Die Bedienung, die zurück kam und ihm die Rechnung auf den Tisch legte, holte
ihn aus seinen Gedanken zurück. Jonathan zog die Rechnung zu sich heran und
legte einige Scheine auf den Tisch.
"Der Rest ist für Sie", sagte Jonathan mit einem Lächeln.
"Vielen Dank. Sehr großzügig von Ihnen. Ich wünsche Ihnen noch einen schönen
Abend", verabschiedete sich die Kellnerin.
"Was meinst du jetzt, Cornelius? Eine Nacht und keine Probleme mehr? Du hast
nichts zu verlieren, oder?"
{it Außer vielleicht mein letztes Bisschen Anstand und Ehrgefühl}, dachte sich
der Angesprochene insgeheimen. Jonathan nahm ihm die Entscheidung jedoch ab.
"Lass uns gehen", meinte er mit einem Lächeln.
Cornelius nahm seinen Rucksack, schulterte ihn und folgte ihm schweigend.
Draußen führte Jonathan ihn zu einem Wagen. Ein schwarzer, eleganter
Sportwagen, der keinen Zweifel daran ließ, dass der junge Mann eine Menge Geld
zur Verfügung hatte. Nachdem Cornelius auf dem Beifahrersitz saß, startete
Jonathan den Motor und fuhr los. Mehr und mehr bereute Cornelius die Lage, in
der er jetzt war. Aber ein Zurück gab es wohl kaum mehr.
Die Fahrt dauerte einige Zeit und Cornelius konnte wegen dem einsetzenden
Schnee allmählich nicht mehr sehen, wo sie überhaupt hinfuhren. Jonathan
schien keinerlei Probleme zu haben, dem Straßenverlauf zu folgen.
"Wo fahren wir überhaupt hin?", fragte Cornelius.
"Sagte ich doch. Zu mir nach Hause."
"Und...wo ist das?"
"Nicht mehr weit, keine Sorge. Die genaue Adresse musst du nicht wissen. Ist
doch einfacher, oder? Morgen fahre ich dich zurück und wir sind uns nie
begegnet. Klingt doch toll, oder?"
"Ja..."
Ganz falsch war es nicht. Immerhin würde er dann anschließend sein Leben
wieder normal weiterführen können. Er hoffte nur, dass es das einzige und das
letzte Mal war, wo er zu so etwas gezwungen sein würde.
"Was machen Sie eigentlich? Beruflich, meine ich. Wenn Sie sich so ein Auto
und alles leisten können..."
"Ich bin Vorstandsmitglied einer Firma", erwiderte Jonathan ruhig. "Welche
Firma das ist, möchte ich aber nicht sagen, okay?"
"Natürlich. Ja."
"Du darfst mich übrigens duzen."
"Ja...Okay. Mache ich."
"Nicht so nervös. Entspann dich mal."
Das war leichter gesagt als getan. Er rutschte die ganze Fahrt unruhig auf
seinem Sitz hin und her, bis sie schließlich irgendwo auf der Straße mehrmals
abbogen und schließlich vor einem Haus anhielten. Wobei Haus leicht
untertrieben war. Als sie ausstiegen konnte Cornelius sehen, dass es mehr eine
Villa als etwas anderes war. Er blickte sich um, konnte aber außer Bäume und
der Straße nichts anderes sehen. Sonst war kein anderes Haus in der Nähe.
Unsicher folgte er Jonathan zur Haustür, welche dieser aufschließ, um ihn dann
mit einer Geste hineinzubeten.
"Zieh dich erst einmal aus", meinte Jonathan.
Als Cornelius zögerte, schaute Jonathan ihn an und lachte dann.
"Die Jacke und die Schuhe, meine ich. Ganz ruhig."
Cornelius versuchte zu lächeln und zog sich die Sachen aus, die er dann
anständig an die Garderobe hängte.
"Möchtest du erst einmal einen Kaffee haben? Die Nacht wird lang", lächelte
der Gastgeber.
Cornelius nickte stumm, versuchte wieder freundlich zu lächeln, was ihm nicht
ganz gelang. Es kribbelte regelrecht im Bauch, er wusste nicht, was er tun
sollte. Schließlich folgte er dem Mann jedoch in die Küche, wo er sich an den
Esstisch setzen sollte. Kurz darauf bekam er eine Tasse von dem schwarzen
Gebräu, während sich Jonathan mit seiner eigenen Tasse gegen die Küchenzeile
lehnte. Schweigend tranken sie jeder ihren Kaffee, nur gelegentlich blickte
Cornelius auf, nur um dann in das freundliche Gesicht von Jonathan zu lächeln.
Irgendwas stimmte nicht. Und doch kam er nicht darauf, was es war. Vielleicht
er auch nur einfach paranoid, nachdem er sich selbst wieder in diese Lage
gebracht hatte. Nach einiger Zeit räusperte sich Jonathan.
"Ich glaube", begann er langsam, "es wäre nur fair, wenn ich dir erkläre, wer
ich bin."
"Inwiefern?"
"Na ja. Besser nicht wer...sondern was ich bin."
"Verstehe ich nicht wirklich, wenn ich ehrlich sein soll."
"Okay. Ich rede Klartext. Ich bin ein Vampir. Und du wirst mein zukünftiger
und ehrenloser Eunuchensklave sein."
* * * |
My nullificaction | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Gang Rape | A guys story and his transformation into a woman | My story – true story
You want to know how I was neutered? I tell you how. It was done to me in
Bamberg. There lives an experienced neuterer, I had to call him master, who
cuts beasts and men but mostly calves, lambs and piglets. Here is what he did
with.. The first thing he did he shave my lower parts - pubic and asshole. –
then he inserted a large sound down my dick about 35F. Then - guided by the
sound - He inject me with 20mm Lidocaine into the region of my sphincter. The
shot numb that whole region down within seconds. Then he took his surgical
knife and made a slit just next to my asshole. He cut down to that steel
sound. He sprayed something on it to stop the bleeding. Then, after He
withdrew the sound and immediately inserted through that slit a 30F balloon
catheter into my bladder and connected it to a plastic leg bag. He told me
that I had to wear the catheter for about 30 days until the hole, my future
pee hole, had healed.
Then he asked me if I wanted one more orgasm. I said yes and he got a computer
screen, inserted a disk into the DVD slot and started the hottest video I had
ever seen. A big, very muscular Black man, with a monster cock, long at least
8 inches and very thick , fucked a white guy, maybe 20 - 22 yrs old. He was
bent over and I could see that dick entering his pussy - he squirmed and
enjoyed that dick - I noticed that there was a very fine wire around the young
guys balls \- the loop resting on his balls. That wire seemed to be razor
sharp. Suddenly that Black, changed from a slow fuck – pushing his dick slowly
in and out – just about pulling it out and shoving it back in again, fucking
suddenly real hard and moaned and held his head up ready to scream for lust
while that white guy squealed and yelled as his cum spurted all over the
place.
Suddenly the "master" - that what they called him, started a motor and the
wire was wound up around the white guys balls started - slowly – to close -
tighten around those balls - when they got real tight the guy started to fight
but his Black lover held him down. He pulled his arms to around to his back
and kept on fucking that cute ass. The Black guy had a real grip on him so he
couldn't move - all the while that wire kept closing up around his balls –
blood started to drip to the floor - the master got a stick and put it in to
his mouth - it helped to endure the cutting pain. The machine pulling that
wire went on without mercy and closed that loop around his tender ball sack.
There was a final pull on the wire and suddenly his balls fell off. The master
released a most beautiful Chinese Pheasant – he went straight for those balls
and gulped them down – real fast. At that the Black went nearly delirious and
jammed that dick of his into that tiny hole and spilled his cum into that
little ass. When he pulled out his white seed oozed out and ran over that
bleeding stump of ball sack. . The master’s little helper, a deformed man
with a hunchback jumped up and held a red glowing iron –he shuffled over to
the boy and looked him in the face – you see that? He asked “I will push that
into the gaping bloody hole where you now have an empty sack.” One more
heart rending shriek and the blood stopped.
Suddenly a group of nasty looking leather boys entered the room. They grabbed
that strong black man and dragged him across the room to a large black cross,
2 guys by the cross grabbed his wrists, pushed them into shackles and locked
them to a loop on the cross beam. The guy looked very bewildered and asked -
why do you do that? Didn't I fuck that white guy for you? Didn’t I make him
cum with that dick of mine? What gives? While he talked someone came up with a
jockstrap made of metal - I believe it was thin steel. He put it around his
waist and locked it - before he could say a word his legs were fixed straight
down to that cross and he stood there like some soldiers at attention. He
couldn’t move – not even his ass. The steel supporter connected to a belt
covered only his balls and his dick was dangling loose from that hole. That
jockstrap was adjusted to make sure that his dick was free - and not covered
by that steel. Tightly secured, he just stood there – looking bewildered –
then real fear entered his eyes and he called as loud as he could: “What are
you guys up to?”
He looked ahead and his eyes became suddenly large - he stared at a guy who
played with garden shears - "what are these for", he asked. The guy with the
shears, a rather handsome young guy, grinned and said, “you had your last fuck
- that black thing you call ‘my precious one’, comes off.” The Black started
to scream and protest - but no one cared. All just stood there and looked at
his fabulous black shiny dick. The fellow with his shears moved closer, the
blades wide open, and placed them around that dick all the way down to were
his shaft left his body. His shaft was now snug between the blades. That
Black, unable to move just stood and screamed. His body was well secured. He
just stood there while the shears were placed at the base of his lovely dick.
Suddenly that guy closed the shears slowly not once but 3 times. The victim
moved his head back and screamed as loud as he could – don’t do that –
please!!! The shears were closed once more and that dick fell to the ground.
Plenty of blood and much screaming. That white guy he had fucked and who had
LOST his balls got so scared, expecting the same fate, just fainted.
One of the guys hollered “I am hungry for some blood sausage” having said that
he picked up that big detached black dick – he opened his mouth wide and
allowed that amputated dick sliding down his throat. They all applauded – you
could really watch that that dick as it went deeper into that mouth – suddenly
it was all the in \- one swallow and it was in the guy’s stomach . The little
hunchback came back – this time he had a blowtorch – what was he up to? Oh no!
the guys spread the blacks legs and fastened them securely to some rings on
the floor. And the ugly dwarf pointed the flame of the at the steel jockstrap.
But then, swiftly, he moved it over the penis stump. It stopped to bleed – the
Black seem to be happy for that. He moved that torch down and started to heat
that steel jockstrap, he moved the torch close and withdrew – he did that a
few times and yelled now I will roast the balls inside the that steel pouch.
He opened the flame all the way and the steel started to glow first faintly
and then red hot. Too much for the brave fucker – he too fainted and the smell
of roasted meat was in the air. After a while some of the guys removed that
metal cup and started to munch the roasted nuts.
That was the video. I came not just once but had maybe 3 orgasms. My cutter
turned to me and said - how did you like it. I said nothing. Then he asked me,
" do you know why you have that catheter and why I made a pee hole for you?" I
shook my head. Well, he said, over time you will lose your dick and your balls
- I won't use the method you saw in the video. I make it less painful. Boy
was I scared - I tried to move off the table he got me on, I was all wet
because my urine just dripped from that tube - I was scared. Then he showed me
a strange device, he said "this is an elastrator. It's used to castrate little
lambs \- lambs like you." "You see this little green rubber ring? You see this
little hole? It will go around your balls and your dick. Watch what I do," He
put that little ring on that contraption and slowly but surely expanded it.
Amazing. He showed it to me and said: "First I will stick your dick all the
way to the end of your shaft in here. Then I will expand another ring and
place it around your balls. Since you have been a good sport I will make it
painless. I shoot you up with Lidocaine and you won't feel a thing. Then you
swallow a strong sleepy pill and rest."
I couldn't respond and just watched as he gave me that shot first around the
base of my dick, after a minute or 2 he placed my dick through that loop -
that small green rubber ring now expanded - when it got down to the base of my
dick I could feel it but then he said "we got that one done. I felt nothing!
“Now let us look at your balls - they are too high up - well, I will pull them
down and inject the painkiller then I will get your balls in that expanded
green ring and let it slowly go.” He grabbed my balls and I felt the needle
getting in to my sack and balls. I felt a pinch and numbness in my sack. Then
he picked up that elastrator and while I watched he put that small green ring
in the center – that ring was held by hooks. Then he started to pull and
expanded that ring – he grabbed my balls and I jumped a bit – “no trouble he
said” more injections. Then he got a large mirror and I saw myself there lying
naked with my dick purplish red – he twisted the mirror somewhat and I could
now see my balls. Resting peacefully. Then he said you will watch as I place
that rubber ring around your balls and release slowly the elastrator – you
will watch as the ring tightens around your balls. When I release the ring he
will stay and kill your sack and balls.” For my comfort he gave me another
shot also into my dick.
Then he started to slide my balls through that loop – moving it back and forth
to get the right position. “I will place the ring high,” he said, “that means
you don’t have to worry about your sack tissue.” I looked into the mirror and
watched as my balls glided into the loop and how the elastrator started to
close above my balls. Amazingly I had no pain. In a way I was happy and had a
good feeling in my belly. I started to realize that my nuts will be gone that
my dick will also go. While I rested dreaming about my nullification the
cutter bend over my face and gave me a deep kiss – his tongue tickled my
throat and I t got one more orgasm – I felt my cum oozing out from that hole
along the catheter – I didn’t realize, that - while I was slowly castrated -
that I could have that orgasm. Then my master released me from whatever held
me down and I looked at my dick and balls. They looked very red nearly blue.
The urine from the catheter was now collecting in a bag attached to my leg. He
gave me 2 white pills and took me to a couch. I just about reached it when I
fainted - anyway, I slept all night. When I awoke I felt something heavy
between my legs –- when I looked down I saw my dick black and swollen -
separated from my body by a thin slice of skin - the little green ring had
shrunk to its original size - I touched my dick but I had no feeling - after
that I touched my balls \- now blue black and hard but no feeling. The door
opened and the cutter looked in, wished me a good morning. He asked how I
felt. He also told me why he made that pee hole prior to his job castrating
me. Without doing that, he said, I would have plenty of trouble. He invited
me for breakfast and I must have been a funny looking guy - he laughed and
said "don't worry! In a week or 2 you will be fine - your dick may fall off
and your balls too - or I may cut them off - no problem. Your precious dead
members may end up in the stomach of my dog. He likes them - when they start
stinking – until they fall off stay away from him because he will bite them
off.
Well, the dog did not get them, they fell off alright while I was in the pond
near the house - and I saw how those little fish were fighting to get a piece
of my dick and balls. They just nibbled and nibbled until they the dick and
balls were gone.
In the meantime the catheter was removed and I pee like a women. At first my
cutter injected me with large doses of testosterone – “that will keep you
horny and longing for my dick to massage your still intact prostrate. You will
have watery cum not as white as before but you cum.” He was telling the
truth. I will never forget the first fuck when he entered me with his hard
somewhat curved dick and that head he head he had, nearly purplish blue, I was
so impatient - longing to get that dick into me he couldn’t keep up with me.
So invited a few of his skinhead friends over and we had a fuck fest.
All went well. But one day he said you will now get estrogen - female
hormones – you will get nice tits and round hips \- nice and smooth – and the
guys \- and of course I \- will love your boys pussy. – you may not cum
anymore but you will have that nice feeling of being fucked. -. The master is
using my boys pussy often but I long for a real large dick as I had seen in
the video. The bigger the better. One eve the master had some handsome guys
over – one, black and beautiful – they undressed and I was ready to faint.
Those guys were just it. And their buns – boy they started to fuck me and
could get my fingers into their ass muscles – they loved it and just shoot
into me. Finally I got the one I was waiting for - that young handsome black
\- his dick was fat and long and shiny – he had some oil on it and he drove
that dick right into me – what a sensation. . He held unto me by my hips and
drove that penis of his hard into my boys pussy. It was just the way he
fucked me, turning and pushing that dick and his beautiful ass that drove me
crazy. Suddenly I had a tremendous feeling throughout my body – it felt so
great, and as he kept pushing that dick into me I had that beautiful
sensation at least 5 times. I had never felt anything like it. The guys
noticed it and laughed – the Black guy gave me a deep kiss and said: “honey
you had a woman orgasm. Great!” Lets do it once more – and we did it more than
once – he was actually the only man who could really satisfy me and he knew
it.
Tell me what you think you may use German
* * * |
Glory Hole From Hell | GAY, PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION | What's on the other side of those Glory Holes. An 18 year old finds out! | Glory Hole from HELL!
The summer between High School and College was happening at
lightnin’ speed. My best friend and I made an amazing discovery
about each other…the circle jerks and hand jobs we’d given each
other (along with more than a few of our buds) was a little bit
more than just a passing phase…we were both gay and lovin’ it! Now
that High School and all the social pressures of trying to be cool
were behind us. I’d been accepted into USC’s Film School and Justin
was off to “Berserkly” to major in brew n’ buds. We had the world
by the balls…and before THIS night was over, that expression would
be beyond ironic.
It was about 2:30 in the morning, the 32 ouncers, the shots of
Jaeggermeister and a few bongs of buds had left us buzzed and in
serious horn dog mode. Justin says “Jayson, dude I seriously need
to bust a nut…I need my dick sucked and I’m in the mood for some
strange, no offence dude, but you know.” “Fuck you, bitch, I was
thinking the same thing…but where, the bars are closed and..”
Justin jumps forward and gets a sort of wild look in the glazed
eyes, “I’ve fuckin got a plan…we’re getting’ our dicks sucked, bro!
This is kinda trippy, but what the fuck. A few weeks ago I went in
this porno shop for some JO material and I’m cruising around and in
the back they’ve got these movie booths.” “Yeah”, I said wondering
kinda sleezeoid deal I was about to be talked in to. “Jayson, this
is the really wack part, they had these holes between the booths
and…you know, you just stick it through and get the ol’ schlong
slurped”. “Or you can be the slurpper , if you want???” I said
gamely. “So, Justin what’s this place called…Winos and Trolls? I
don’t think I’m that desperate, yet”. “Dude, I’m not THAT fucked up
either. That was the amazing thing, it was mostly guys around our
age” It’s right near Valley Community College and right next door
to an 18 and over Rock N Roll club”. What the fuck, I thought…young
horny dudes like us…”right on Justin, we’re there! Besides if it
sucks (or for that matter doesn’t) we’re vapor.
As we pulled along the curb, there is was, complete with windows
painted over in white and big red letters “8 Ball Adult Books and
25 cent Video Arcade”. “Where’s the entrance, Justin?” He exploded
laughing “in the rear, you fuckin’ dweeb!” We stumbled out of the
car falling against each other in hysterics. Rounding the corner in
to the back, there were 2 incredibly hot dudes headed toward their
car, blonde one smiled at us and said “ Look Brad, replacements.
There are just too many gorgeous young men in there…have fun boys.”
Justin and I kinda nodded and reached for the door. There must have
been 25 or so guys in there, all young (the oldest may have been
25) all cruising and all ready. “So where’s these booths with
holes?” I asked Justin. “They’re called glory holes,
bonehead” “How’d you know that” I whispered back. “ Jayson…” then
he just rolled his glassy blue eyes” shut the fuck up! They’re this
way. Get tokens before you go in.” I slid a $10 into the machine
and was rewarded with clatter of coins. I scooped them up and
noticed about a half dozen guys just hanging and looking. A sandy
haired guy about 18 went into a booth and was checking me out
seriously. Not 30 seconds after he went in, the booth next to his
opened up. I grabbed it and saw Justin eyeing somebody or other out
of the corner of my eye.
I dropped a token in to the slot and some grainy, cheesy porno
started. Then I saw the hole and the cute 18 year old stoking a
picture perfect mushroom headed cut dick. I opened the fly on my
shorts and hauled my own leaking dick out. He put his mouth up by
the hole and licked his lips. He took my dick and swirled his
tongue around the head. Just then I heard voices on the other side
of my booth. Holy shit, there’s a hole on that side, too. With the
guy working my dick over I turned to see what was the haps on the
other side. Justin was over there, facing away from me. I was
getting really close and I wanted to check out “sandy’s” dick. I
pulled back and knelt down so I could taste his boy meat.
Ummmm….Ummmm, I replied. I felt his dick start pulsing in my mouth,
his big cum tube that ran along the underside of his engorged penis
was getting ready deliver “Oooh…OOOOh fuck” he was muttering. I
was in heaven. From the other side I could hear Justin getting
noisy “ Oh yeah…take it eat that dick” Then dull drone of voice
and cheesy porno music was shattered by the most terrifying, bone
chilling scream ever heard. Then I heard one of the booths being
flung open and the sound of someone tearing out the door. It seemed
to get quiet for a moment and I started to think “musta forgot the
KY”. Just then I heard what sounded like someone gasping to get
their breath, as though the wind had been knocked out of them. Then
an almost terrified animal wail “Jesus...Jesus”… it gained in
intensity “FUCK ! OH GOD….” It was coming from the next booth.
Justin! “HELP, Oh fuck, help…HE BIT MY DICK OFF JESUS!!! HE BIT MY
FUCKIN DICK OFF!!!
(to be continued) |
Hannah Switches Sides | NULLIFICATION, Female | Hannah is not only double gaited, she is a double crosser. | ` HANNAH SWITCHES SIDES `
“Hello.” Answering the phone.
“Hannah?”
“Yes”
“This is Jenny, Jenny Daugherty, now Mrs. Jenny Virgil. I was calling to take
you up on the offered massage, Sammy is out of town, the girls are with their
grandmother, and thought this would be a really good time. Besides I do want
to talk with you, you are so understanding.”
“Jenny you can come over any time, I no longer need to work at the massage
parlor, and have no alterations scheduled for a while, so my time is my own,
when can you be here honey?”
“Would an hour be too soon?”
“No, that would be fine, but plan to spend at least six hours it will take at
least that long for the massage and the talking.”
One hour and fifteen minutes later Jenny arrived at Hannah’s apartment, unsure
of what she was about to get into and a little embarrassed.
“Come in Jenny, you are looking so good, sit on the couch and we will have
coffee and chat for a while, and please relax.” Said Hannah as she admitted
Jenny and went to the kitchen for the coffee service.
“So how are things between you and that half man of yours with the horse
cock?” inquired Hannah.
“Well there is a problem. At first after Sammy and I were married everything
was fine. I would give him the little light testosterone patches during the
week, then boost him up Friday evenings, and I would get on him and ride. Then
I would let him eat me because I would be so sore. Then he had a physical last
week, I got a copy of the blood tests, he had all of them done. His
testosterone level would make a bull happy. He has been sneaking patches and
Viagra on the side. That son of a bitch has been advertising. “Perfectly safe
male, will tickle you tonsils from the bottom up’ is his ad. If this had been
two or three years ago I would have been devastated but because of you I now
know exactly what to do. I will have you come to the house and remove his last
problem for good, and then you can sell him on the market for whatever you
can. I want it done slowly and as painfully as possible.”
“That is no problem, I have new low light video cameras that will capture the
whole evening for your albums of videos. Speaking of that how is your mother,
and your two friends and with the cutesy names.”
“Mom is fine, and so are the girls. We had a little hen party about a month
ago. A bottle of wine and we all watched the videos. It was so hot and horney
in the living room, we all wound up masturbating as the balls and dicks fell.”
“Next time Jenny you should try doing each other, you know kind of a helping
friendly hand.”
“I am not a lesbian.”
“Relax, that is not what I am saying, no one that has ridden your husbands
pole as you have could ever be a lesbian, just think of it as stress relief,
kind of like when I removed your husbands balls, he was so much freer and
lighter afterwards.”
“I guess.” Very uncertainly.
“Oh Jenny don’t be a prude, two women getting rid of their stress can be quite
sweet and charming. The taste, the warm soft fell of a cunt on your fingers or
in your mouth can be very satisfying. I don’t know what it is but it isn’t
sex.” Besides you have had two husbands castrated and your own father
nullified how can you make a judgment that licking a cunt to help out a friend
is somehow bad.”
“You make these things sound so logically. Just like you did with Sammy, I
would have never thought he would ask you to cut his balls off.”
“Jenny it is just logic and good salesmanship. Now off with the clothes on the
table belly done, you are in for a really good time.”
Jenny complied removing all her clothes, then completely naked she placed
herself face down on the massage table that Hannah had escorted her to.
“Did I tell you I have found a new alteration method Jenny?”
“No, what is that?”
“Husband’s and wives together. I find someone like your friends Cindy and
Wendy do this as a lark. So have done two couples now, where the wife’s
clitoris is removed after castrating her husband. You would be surprised, the
same logic that gets a man to agree to have me emasculate him allows me to cut
a woman’s clit out.”
“That is amazing.”
“Yes, and I think it goes a long way towards getting rid of any hard feelings
afterwards. Of course I have to use drugs on the woman, the horse tranquilizer
and the Viagra to get them in the proper mood. I tell the women that she needs
to share the experience, the pain, and then the lightness of being free of
tension.”
“I am still interested in helping you cut a man’s balls off, whispering in his
ear all sexy like until he agrees to let me chop him.”
By this time Hannah was working massage oil into Jenny’s back and buttocks.
Her hands slick with oil slid a couple of times done the crack, then she
inserted a finger and asked: “Do you still have problems controlling this?”
“Ooooh”
“Will take that as a yes, tighten your muscles there. You need to exercise
here to gain control, the muscles are very weak Jenny, every day oil your
finger and put it deep inside yourself then squeeze it. I would suggest you
have Sammy do you there, but he would split you open.”
“Oooooh yes”:
“Now Jenny rollover, and I will relieve the stress in the front of you.”
Jenny rolled over and Hannah massaged her front. Starting with the neck
muscles, then the breasts, she gently massaged them until the nipples were
erect and hard. Then a hand went down Jenny’s belly, slowly so as not to scare
her, covered her sex with the palm and inserted a finger. Your sex organs do
not distinguish gender, Jenny was getting wet and excited, her breathing was
increasing.
“Do you like this massage Jenny.”
Very softly: “Yes.”
“I thought you would” Hannah while continuing to finger Jenny’s sex leaned
over and kissed Jenny deeply, and Jenny responded.
“There, there my little Jenny, you are so sweet, do you want to see what you
look like. Of course you do.” Hannah mounted the table and kneeled on Jenny’s
chest with her bush only inches from Jenny’s mouth. Pulling open the lips
Hannah said: “This is what you look like, isn’t it pretty, doesn’t it smell
good, kiss me.” Jenny give her a little peck as you would a maiden aunt. “No,
not like that Jenny, kiss me like the French, with your tongue, suck me, lick
me, make me come in your mouth.”
Jenny couldn’t resist the invitation, and as she began to eat and suck, Hannah
reached back with a hand and fingered Jenny’s sex. “Jenny that is so nice, see
how I am getting wet and the flavor changes, pretty soon my cunt will start to
contract, how nice this is for friends to help each other like this. Now let
us do it together.” With that Hannah got up turned around, settled her cunt
firmly on Jenny’s mouth and buried her own face in Jenny’s bush and begin to
lick.
It took ten minutes the room got hot and steamy and smelled of big sexy women.
Multiple orgasms, stiff clits and arching backs, then they rested.
“Jenny would you like to feel what Tommy and Sammy felt before their tension
was gone”
“Umhmnn”
“I have my elastrator all set up with some fine tubing just perfect for a
woman’s clit, you should know what it feels like to be banded. Okay?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t worry I won’t do anything you don’t ask for.” Hannah put the elastrator
over Jenny’s clit, then with her teeth pulled the clit out to the point of
pain, and banded it off hard.”
“Ouch, that hurts.”
“Just relax Jenny, in a moment of two it will be numb and you won’t feel a
thing.” Hannah bent her head back into Jenny’s cunt and licked the now banded
clit, and at the same time she pushed her own cunt back on to Jenny’s face.
Jenny was hooked, she started to make love to Hannah’s cunt again.
They both came again, and Hannah finally got off Jenny and back on to the
floor. She played with the now banded clit, but got no reaction. “See Jenny, I
told you, in a few minutes it would be numb.”
“Yes, the pain is gone but I still feel it pulling, the tension.”
“Sweetheart I can release that tension it you like.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Perform a cliterectomy, It is the female equivalent castrating a male. Though
it isn’t quite so drastic, it is more painful.”
“You have got to be kidding.”
“No I am not kidding, Sammy has paid me $5000 to remove it and then ship you
to the middleeast as a slave. They don’t like their women to enjoy sex over
there you know.”
“This is a joke right, your putting me on this can’t be happening to me after
all the business I have given you.”
“You are wrong, business is business, and Sammy paid, so he gets his wish,
just as you got yours when you cut off his balls.”
“My god.”
“Sorry there is no help from above here, only old Hannah and her cutters.
Jenny you are going to be in a tent in the desert, do you really want some old
hag butchering your genitals, or would you rather have a quick snip from a
friend that loves you?”
“How can you say you love me when you are going to ruin me and my life?”
“Jenny dear, that is love, but this is money. I promise to make this wonderful
for you, you will never have another experience like this. You will be on top
of a volcano and you will erupt and it will be over in an instant. No matter
what is done to you after this it will be less than what happens now. You will
eventually agree, why not make it sooner than later, no man or woman has ever
walked away from me with a part of their body that I wanted.”
“I will agree, but only on one condition, after you cut off my clit, you kill
me.”
“I am not a murderer.”
“Slit my throat, strangle me, shoot me, or throw me in front of a bus like I
did Tommy, but don’t send me into slavery.”
‘No I cannot, there is the money to think of.”
“My wallet, my credit cards, my savings account, I will give twice what Sammy
did just don’t send me into slavery.”
“Seen in that light you have a deal, but I will not kill you. When you have
been done, and have begged me to remove your little man in the hood, you will
just walk out. Many things I have done, and will do, but killing is not an
option.”
“How much.”
“Hmmmm, let us say $20,000, I know you can easily spare that amount.”
“Yes I will make it $25,000 and you will take Sammy’s cock off back to the
asshole, which is what he is.”
“So let it be, but remember before you get too angry you were ready to send
him to be some boy-toy, he just thought of it first. Now just relax I am going
to strap you down to the table for what comes next, I trust you not to run,
but you mustn’t move for my new toy to work properly. I have bought a fucking
machine, a real machine that fucks you long, hard and continuously.”
Hannah, after having Jenny fill out and sign a check with lots of zeros,
strapped her down and rolled out her latest toy. It was a Rube Goldberg
looking device which consisted of a d.c. motor with adjustable speed, the
motor had an eccentric gear on the shaft which connected to a rod held in a
horizontal position. On the end of the rod was a dildo, 12” long and 2” in
diameter. Hannah set this contraption on the massage table between Jenny’s
legs.
“Now Jenny you are going to have the penultimate sexual experience, you have
cum what four or five times this afternoon, this machine will make you cum
fifty or sixty times, whatever it takes for you to scream for poor Hannah to
cut you. Oh and just to make this really exciting the oil is virgin olive
laced with chilly powder. Actually capsicum, that will inflame your cunt and
make it that much more exciting for you when you are free of tension.”
Hannah plugged in the machine fired her up, both the machine and Jenny. Slow
penetration at first just a couple of inches, slowly carefully until all 12”
were going in an out. Hannah put some more the olive oil mixture on the shaft
so it would move freely in and out without damaging either the cunt or the
motor.
Jenny was uncomfortable at first, the olive oil mixture burned but then
settled down to a comforting warmth, she was of course used to Sammy who was
about the same size as the dildo, but even Sammy couldn’t get 100 strokes a
minute.
“You are getting close now Jenny, I can see you belly contracting, your cunt,
your womb, even your ovaries love what is happening.”
“Yes”
I don’t know if you have observed a woman who goes in to sort of a free fall
orgasm. The French call it the ‘Little Death.’ The woman’s body shakes, she
spasms, she yells, she digs her nails in, most of the time the lover will stop
for fear she will die of a heart attack. The machine doesn’t care, it just
keeps right on fucking.
Hannah stood watching as Jenny began to cum and counted the orgasms. Five,
ten, twenty. Hannah wondered how long before Jenny would blow out all the
circuits in her brain. “Jenny dear, the only way to stop it, to get off the
ride is for me to cut you, just tell me it is all right and it will stop.”
“OH god cut the fucking thing off for chriss sake, get rid of it, do me, do
me, DO MEEEEE.”
Hannah turned off the machine, and turned the wheel so that the dildo was
still buried in Jenny’s cunt. “Are you ready Jenny sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
Hannah reached down with her branch cutters and clipped of the banded
clitoris.
Jenny screamed her lungs out, there are a lot of nerve endings down there.
“Now for your reward Jenny.” Hannah climbed back up on the massage table set
upon Jenny’s mouth and peed. Jenny swallowed, what the heck.
AUTHORS NOTE: That is the end of Hannah, after all there are only so many ways
you can turn a barn into an opera house. What happened to Jenny and Sammy?
They reconciled on condition that Sammy kick the testosterone habit and the
advertisements. Now they have found a new game they seem to really like. They
drink a lot of beer and pee in each other’s mouth, what the heck, they like
it.
* * * |
My First Scrotal Infusion | STRAIGHT, Scrotal Infusion | Documentation of the experience of a man\'s first scrotal infusion. | ` Report of my First Scrotal Infusion `
By: Dino, translated by MEMBERNO
I set a date and precise time, at which my patient was to receive his first
scrotal infusion. The anticipation always made me horny and moved me to
masturbate several times a day. The thought of getting a fully distended ball
sack, caused by infusion, made my penis hard every time, without having to
touch it.
A few days later it was time. I jerked off and watched some pornos. In exactly
two hours it would be time. When it was time, I wanted to give the patient
some shock treatment. So, I blasted my balls and prick hard with current. Next
I took twenty cards with beautful women and laid them face down on the table.
After each shock torture session, I took one of the cards at random and turned
it face up as a reward. There would be shock torture until the picture of Lady
Diana turned up.
I obediently treated myself with a full pressure stream and then pulled the
twelfth card out. It was Lady Diana. At the sight of her I got very turned on.
For her I would even have allowed myself to be castrated. I immediately
removed the electrodes, and said to myself: “The next, please.” I imagined I
was sitting in the waiting room of a lady urologist and had been called into
her treatment room. “Good day, Mr. Root. You are suffering from a problem with
your testicles. Please, undress completely and position yourself on my desk
with your legs spread,” the doctor said. Now I imagined how she would examine
me. Brutally, she pulled back my foreskin and squeezed my balls painfully.
Using several fingers, she examined my prostate through my rectum. Then the
lady doctor said to me, that I had a too small scrotum and that my testicles
could not float correctly. “I’ll give you an infusion.”
Now I tied my penis fast to my belly to allow full access to my nuts. Then I
took two needles out of their coverings and pulled my scrotum forward a bit. I
felt a bit shaky already about injecting an infusion into my own scrotum. I
penetrated my scrotum with a needle. It was a sexy feeling, when I stuck the
needle deep into my sack. I could even feel how the tip of the needle was
touching reproductive glands. Now I connected the infusion bag (sterile 0.9%
salt solution), and immediately opened the valve all the way. The infusion
dripped and my sack expanded. There was a strange, exciting feeling on my
balls. I stood there, legs spread wide apart and watched my ball sack deform.
After half an hour I stopped, because there were already 700 ml in my sack and
that was enough for the firt time. I removed the needle and untied my penis.
Man, that was a turn-on. I had a gigantic scrotum, 13” in circumference, 4”
wide, hanging down 7”. I took my dick in hand and jerked off. I attempted to
grab my scrotum with my other hand, but it was bigger than my hand. Right at
the start of jerking off, the little tadpoles were wanting to shoot out of my
dick head. But, nothing doing. I stopped and applied the electrodes again. The
scrotal collar still just fit. I turned it on and it was splendid. It was
twice as intense as when I had a small sack. I kept turning the regulator up,
but at the one-third setting (5 volts, 1.8 amperes), my white soup released
itself.
Now I stood up and walked around a while. The sack pressed my thighs and I had
to walk with my legs somewhat further apart. I let my dangling sack swing back
and forth between my legs. I crazy sensation. A cow on the meadow with a full
udder probably felt the same.
It would have been impossible to conceal my bulging sack in my pants on the
same evening. So, I stayed home and put on my jogging pants. Until I fell
asleep in front of the TV, I kept my hand on my scrotum all the time. It was
so cool. In bed, though, I could only lie on my side after putting a thick
pillow between my knees. The next, I was only half as large and some fluid was
still seeping from the site of the injection, so that I had to change my
underpants two to three times a day. It now fit well into my large pants, but
it was still visible and it was still OK to sit. If anyone should look at my
pants!
Summary:
1\. The needle stick hurt a bit, but pains in the scrotum and penis are good!
2\. I have to recommend it to anyone who wants exceptionally sexy things in
their pubic area.
3\. Next time I’m going to introduce no less than 1500 ml into my sack, with
my goal being 2000 ml.
4\. Next time I’m going to use at least twice as much solution. A small and a
large bottle of .9% salt solution are ready to go.
* * * |
Terri Lynn's Story (Part 2) | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Conclusion of Part 1 | Terri Lynn: Part 2 of 2
Although I had given up on becoming as good a seamstress as Sharon or
Penny, I discovered I had another talent. One Saturday when we drove
into Paxton to get some feed, we got to do a little shopping while we
were there. I was in one of the variety stores and saw a leather kit
where I could make a purse. I really liked the purse and thought
making it would be fun, so I counted out my money and bought it. That
seemed innocent enough. Purses were girl things and lacing up the
edges was a little like sewing. However, I discovered I really liked
leather working. I bought several other pre-cut kits, as soon as I
could save the money, and made things like knife scabbards, tool
holders, and even a pistol holster. I sold some of these things to
boys at school and got more than my money back on them. Then I got
innovative, making things from uncut pieces of leather I would buy at
the saddle shop or the shoe repair shop. I made saddle scabbards for
Pop's and Mr. Taylor's deer rifles, and I even made Pop a special
scabbard and mount to go on his tractor so he could carry his shotgun
when he was in the field. He really liked that.
Finally, my imagination turned naughty and I made myself some belt
holsters for the Elastrator and the Burdizzo. It took a few tries to
get my design perfected, but when I was satisfied with the results, I
made Sharon a set also. I can only imagine how we must have looked in
our little hot pants and boots, wearing a holster with a castrator
tool slung on our hip, swaggering and strutting, like some Old West
gunfighter wearing a six gun. (Pop even told me once not to dress
like that and wear that thing in front of people.)
By the time Sharon and I entered the eleventh grade we considered
ourselves quite accomplished in our craft. Word had gotten around to
some of the other local farms and we actually made some money
castrating animals on neighboring farms. Our services would have been
in even greater demand, but this was a subject that people tended not
to talk too much about.
Sharon and I actually had a few dates with boys, but they acted to
much like animals in rut to be fun. They were in such a rush to get
into our pants they couldn't think or talk about anything else. Their
shallow attempts to make conversation were sometimes amusing, but in
general, they weren't very good company. None of them ever asked us
about our little avocation, but I think the word had gotten around
enough that some of them were afraid of us. This always gave me a
naughty, sexy feeling when I thought about it.
That fall the livestock gelding season was essentially over and I was
turning my thoughts to academic pursuits (I really wanted one of
those scholarships). Then something happened that I will never
forget. I was setting in class one afternoon and some student came
around with one of those little routine message drops to give
something to the teacher. The teacher announced it and posted it on
the bulletin board (something about the basketball schedule I think).
The messenger whispered something to a couple of students in the
front row before she left. Soon I heard an excited whisper
circulating around the room. From the tone of it I knew in could only
be juicy gossip. It seems that some boy had climbed up into the
ceiling joists above the girl's dressing room in the gym to spy on
them while they dressed and undressed. They spotted him and screamed,
and the coach caught the boy. No one knew who the boy was yet though.
I knew what that meant (we all knew the drill). This would be
considered a very serious offence. The coach would give him a severe
paddling before sending him to the Principal's office where he would
receive another severe paddling. And if his parents were like most,
they would insure that he received even more severe punishment at
home than the school had dealt out. The wrath of the righteous rod
hung like a heavy pall over kids in that part of the country in those
days. The paddles used by the school were made in the shop by the Vo-
Ag boys. They were generally made from three-quarter inch thick
lumber, four inches wide. They were usually about two feet long with
about half of the length being the handle. Some were planed down
thinner and had little holes drilled in them to make them sting
worse. Others had clever little slogans painted on them like, "Board
of Education," etc.
The bell rang and we all ran out into the hall to go to our next
class. I glanced down the hall and saw three silhouetted figures
entering the door at the opposite end. There were two big figures on either side of a small one. They were half dragging him along as though he was reluctant to come or he wasn't walking too well.
(Whippings in those days often made a kid walk funny for a few days.)
I instinctively knew it was the head coach and his assistant bringing
in the little peeping-tom for further discipline from the Principal. Once they were inside, and no longer just silhouettes, I could see
who the boy was. It was Melvin Watkins, Sharon's little brother!
My next class was library period. The library was close by the office
and I could hear angry adult voices and an occasional wimpy reply
that sounded like "yes sir" or "no sir," but I couldn't make out the
details of the conversation. Suddenly there was dead silence. I knew
what that meant. We all knew what that meant. Every kid in the
library was staring blankly at a book, their ears attuned to the
drama that was unfolding down the hall.
The first lick echoed down the hall like a shot form a squirrel
rifle. You could hear the students in the library sigh uneasily as
they pretended to be engrossed in their reading material. I heard a
second lick, then a third, Melvin cried out in pain. He should have
known better than that, I thought. Everyone knew that when you cried
out you got an extra lick. That rule was supposed to keep boys from
making a mockery of a paddling by crying out with fake pain. But I
knew poor Melvin was hurting because I saw the way he was walking
when they brought him in. I had no idea how many licks the coach had
given him. When I heard the sixth lick I breathed a little sigh of
relief. I thought surely they were through. He was probably given
five licks and a sixth for crying out. When the seventh lick landed I
jerked my head up in disbelief. All the kids in the library were
looking around just like I was. Then our gaze was met by the
librarian and we quickly feigned interest in our books again. The
licks didn't stop until number eleven. Ten for discipline, one for
crying out.
There was only one more period before the busses ran, but Melvin
wouldn't be riding the bus that afternoon. I heard the stern, somber
voice of Rev. Watkins in the office. They must have called him. The
bell rang and I had to go to my last class, but out the window I saw
Rev. Watkins escorting Melvin out to his big maroon, four door Buick.
Melvin couldn't really walk; Rev. Watkins was holding him under the
armpits and dragging him. His expression seemed to exude no sympathy
for the boy whatsoever.
The next day Sharon told me what had happened to Melvin that night.
"Dad was furious with Mel and said he had brought disgrace on the
family. Dad being a preacher, just made it all the worse. Mel should
have been the last boy you would think of that would do a thing like
that. Dad was going to give Mel another whipping on the butt, but
when he saw how bruised and swollen it already was, he decided he
might permanently injure him that way. Instead, he made Melvin strip
to his briefs and hold to the back of a chair ‘cause Melvin couldn't
stand on his own. Then Dad took off his belt and strapped Melvin's
thighs until they bled. Even though Dad stood behind him the belt
wrapped around his legs, leaving ugly red welts that went almost
around his legs. When some of the welts began to bleed Dad decided
Mel had had enough. Mom just put an old sheet on the bed so Mel
wouldn't bleed on the good one, and he just laid there and choked and
sniffled. I think he was actually afraid to cry."
"That's awful," I said. "What Melvin did was naughty, but he
shouldn't be beaten to death for it."
"I know. Mom and me felt sorry for him too, but we didn't dare show
sympathy while Dad was dishing out punishment. He would see that as
us crossing him, and you don't do that."
"Well, I guess when he comes back to school he'll stay out of the
girl's dressing room," I said, preparing to wind this up and change
the subject.
"Oh Terri Lynn, you don't know the half of it yet. All the time Dad
was whipping Mel with his belt he was threatening to take Mel to the
doctor and have him neutered, and you know how nervous Mel gets just
thinking about animals being neutered. Poor Melvin was just shaking
and trembling, afraid to cry. Dad kept saying the he didn't want to
ever hear of him peeping at a girl again and there was only one sure
way to prevent that."
"They can't really do that though, can they? I mean someone's parents
just can't take their boy to the doctor and have him neutered simply
because he did something naughty."
"I don't think so either, Terri Lynn. I don't think a doctor would do
it. But it's worse than that. Dad is going to take him to a home for
wayward boys, down in Freeport. He's taking him today. We won't be
seeing Melvin again for months. Dad says it will teach him a lesson.
They might do something like that there."
I just looked at Sharon with a knowing, sympathetic expression.
Freeport was an old river town about a hundred and fifty miles away,
and I had heard of the boys school there. I had only been to Freeport
a couple of times; I was a little kid then and Stanley was with us. I
remember Pop pointing to a sign and telling Stanley that was where
boys ended up when they were really bad. You couldn't see the boys
school from the road, just a gate and a sign, with a long driveway
disappearing into some trees. It was a religious school, but I don't
think it was any particular denomination. . But somehow the thought
of Melvin being sent there made a chill come over me. Something about
that school seemed spooky and medieval.
"Terri Lynn, I feel sorry for Melvin, I truly do," Sharon continued,
" but there's something I've got to tell you."
"Yes?"
"Well, when Dad was strapping Melvin with the belt and threatening to
have him neutered, and Mel was so terrified at the thought of being
neutered, I watched that belt putting those big red welts on his
legs, some of them real close to the crotch of his briefs. I wondered
what would happen if one of the blows went high and hit Melvin in his
things, and I knew he must be wondering that too. I actually started
getting turned on thinking about it. I know it's awful Terri Lynn,
but the thought of Mel getting whipped on his things, then taken to
the doctor to be neutered made me have an orgasm. Since all the
attention was on Melvin nobody noticed me, but I had an orgasm
watching that belt come so close to poor Mel's crotch, and imagining
that he was being whipped in the crotch and then taken away to be
neutered. I feel ashamed, Terri Lynn, but I couldn't help it!"
What Sharon was telling me was getting me turned on also. More than
just the story and the situation, it was the way she told it and the
look she had on her face, and the tone of her voice. She was really
into it, and that, as much as anything, was turning me on.
I tried to laugh it off. I told Sharon that she knew how neutering
turned me on and she had been hanging out with me too long. I had
been a bad influence on her. It wasn't her fault. We both laughed and
lightened up a little after that.
I didn't spend anymore nights at Sharon's house that fall. She came
to our place and spent the night a couple of times. I know she felt
more comfortable with us than at home. Rev. Watkins brought Melvin
back from the boys school just before Christmas. He was very subdued,
obedient and eager to please. At first we speculated that they might
have carried out Rev. Watkins' threat and had him neutered, but
Sharon overheard her father threatening Melvin with it if he was ever
involved in future transgressions of a sexual nature. He wouldn't be
given another chance.
With the coming of spring things seemed to be returning to normal.
Sharon and I were performing the livestock castrations on both our
farms and several neighboring farms again with Penny helping most of
the time. Rev. Watkins seemed to be over his fit of rage involving
Melvin, and was his normal calm, reverent self again. I started
spending an occasional night at Sharon's house now, just like old
times.
Toward the end of spring, we began to speculate about whether Melvin
had a crush on Penny. We could tell by the way he acted around her,
getting tongue tied and nervous when he spoke to her, and going out
of his way to do little things he thought would please her. We also
watched his reaction when anyone spoke of Penny in his presence. I
know it was cruel, but Sharon and I used to purposely talk about
Penny having a crush on some boy at school in front of Melvin. In
spite of his efforts to look disinterested and aloof, we could tell
that our conversation was making him uncomfortable and he even looked
a little dejected.
Penny had really filled out nicely in the last three years. She was
fourteen now and Melvin was sixteen. I think Penny was a much
prettier girl than I was, at least she was more traditionally
feminine. Penny had reached her full height at 5'6, although we
didn't know it at the time, and she was really cute. I was more the
Amazon type, and proud of it.
That summer was enjoyable if uneventful. The three of us continued
working as a team castrating farm animals in addition to all our
other chores. Of course we did all the normal things teenage girls
did too. We just hung out and had fun together, made nifty clothes on
our moms' sewing machines, and I kept working on my leather craft. If
it weren't for our prurient obsession with that one peculiar farm
chore, we would have been considered pretty normal girls.
When school started that fall Sharon and I were seniors. We were
probably the most valuable players on the Pea Branch High School
basketball team (not meaning to brag), but this would be our last
year. We had both earned scholarships (academic, not basketball -
girls couldn't get those) to West Central College and were looking
forward to starting there the next year. We would be roommates of
course. Penny was just starting ninth grade and Melvin was starting
tenth.
One afternoon after basketball practice Sharon approached me with a
concerned look on her face.
"Terri Lynn, there's something I need to talk to you about. It may be
bad news; I don't know, but I just have to talk to someone who will
understand. Maybe you can help me decide what to do."
"Bad news? Sharon, you're not pregnant are you?"
"Oh no, it's nothing like that," she said, chuckling "it's not about
me, it's about Melvin. I think he's playing peeping tom again and I'm
afraid it's going to get him into big trouble."
"Who's he been spying on this time?"
"Me"
"Oh no, you don't mean it!"
"Uh huh, he's been looking through the keyhole in the door when I
undress."
The houses we lived in that part of the country in those days were
nothing like modern homes. It was common for two bedrooms to be
connected by a door and most of those old homes didn't even have
closets designed into them when they were built. Closets (and
bathrooms) were something that were added in the last few years. An
old bedroom between Sharon's and Melvin's bedrooms had been cut up
into a bathroom and two closets - one for Sharon and one for Melvin.
An old door connected Melvin's closet to Sharon's bedroom. It had an
old fashioned knob with a keyhole you could actually see through if
you put you eye up to it and peeped. The door had one of those little
cheap dead bolt latches on both sides so that the occupant of each
room would have to unlatch their dead bolt before the door could be
opened.
"I got suspicious when I heard noises coming from his closet, you
know, heavy breathing and a rhythmic noise like he was jerking his
thing back and forth. At first I thought about yelling out and asking
him what the hell he was doing and making a big scene. Then I
realized that Dad would be so furious that he would beat Mel half to
death and probably send him to that boys school in Freeport until he
was eighteen. Mel can be a naughty little twerp sometimes, but he
doesn't deserve the kind of punishment that Dad would dish out. So I
just went over and hung my blouse over the keyhole real casually like
I didn't know anything was going on. I needed to figure out what to
do. I also had to make sure this wasn't just my imagination.
"After that, I started paying real close attention to the noises I
heard coming from Mel's closet. I think he masturbates in there a
lot. He doesn't have to be looking through the keyhole at me, but
when I leave it uncovered and start undressing I almost always hear
him masturbating. Those sounds couldn't be coming from anything else.
I know that's what he's doing.
"I still thought I might just be imagining things, so I purposely put
on a little show just to be sure. I undressed real slowly and laid on
the bed in my underwear and rubbed lotion all over my body. I could
hear the noises coming from his closet. He was jacking off. I pulled
off my bra and rubbed lotion onto my tits. I could hear his breathing
getting heavy. I got up and raised my arms like I was stretching,
then I turned around with my back to the keyhole bent over and
touched my toes several times, just doing stretching exercises. I
could hear the door pop just a little; I knew he was pressing against
it. Finally, with my butt toward the keyhole, I peeled off my
panties, letting them slide down my legs to the floor. I bent over
and picked them up, then casually reached back hung them over the
door knob, just blocking the view through the keyhole. That must have
really frustrated the little twerp, but I was too late. I heard him
cum; he even cried out. He couldn't help it. Then I heard him
cleaning himself up with toilet paper. That's what he always uses; I
can hear the sound of it rattling.
"I've got to make him stop this before Dad finds out. Dad would beat
the hell out of him and send him back to that boys school even if he
just caught him jacking off, much less peeping at me."
"Yeah, they might even neuter him this time."
"Probably," Sharon agreed, "but that would solve his little problem.
His hormones are going to get him into big trouble sooner or later. I
just hate to see him get the beatings and be sent away to that
school. Mel's not really a bad boy, it's just that his hormones are
causing him to do things that are going to get him into big trouble.
I can't just stand by and watch that happen.
"Terri Lynn, I think I have a plan that will solve his problem and
keep him out of trouble. It's for his own good, really. But I'll need
your help, and Penny's too."
As Sharon described her plan I began to feel flushed and giddy and my
crotch started getting damp. We rationalized that what we were
planning would be for Melvin's own good and in his best interest, and
this was partially true. Looking back, however, I realize that we
just needed an excuse to pull off the ultimate scene.
About three weeks later Rev. and Mrs. Watkins planned a three-day
weekend trip to a seminar. Sharon was mature enough now that they
thought nothing of leaving her in charge of the house while they were
gone and they knew that Penny and I would be spending the weekend
with her.
It was just past noon on Saturday when Melvin came in from squirrel
hunting (empty handed). We joked about not being able to depend on
him for putting food on the table and we cooked up a good dinner of
fried chicken and country vegetables.
We talked about maybe going into Paxton that evening and watching a
movie. Rev. and Mrs. Watkins were in the Buick and left their pickup
truck. They didn't care if Sharon drove it. We were joking about how
all four of us would fit into the cab and finally decided that Melvin
would have to ride in the middle and let Penny sit in his lap.
Melvin's crush on Penny was stronger than ever and the thought of her
riding in his lap going to and from town was making him dizzy. He was
practically jabbering and slobbering as he tried to talk. Penny
suggested that Melvin wash the dishes and she would dry them and keep
him company while he did it. I have never seen a boy jump into that
job with more enthusiasm, and Penny was certainly enjoying the power
she had over Melvin.
"If we're going into town tonight we'd better start getting cleaned
up," Sharon announced. "Melvin, you go first, and don't leave a ring
around the tub. We don't want to take a bath in your gunk."
"Oh he wouldn't do that," Penny said, in a really sweet voice. "I
think Mel is a really neat boy. I can tell by the way he washed the
dishes."
Needless to say, when Melvin finished his bath the tub was spotless.
(I don't know why, but in those days nobody installed shower heads in
their bathrooms, just tubs. I took my first shower when I moved into
the college dorm, and loved it.) It was kind of a dirty trick, but
while Melvin was in the tub Sharon slipped into his closet and
unlatched the dead bolt on his side of the door connecting it to her
bedroom. If her plan worked, he would never notice.
We three girls went into the bathroom together (it was a rather large
room, being made from half a bedroom), taking turns with the tub, and
fixing our hair, and just talking girl talk. When we were finished we
donned our bath robes and went into Sharon's bedroom. We had about
three hours to kill before we were supposed to leave for town. Of
course going into town wasn't really in our plans, we just came up
with that to help rook Melvin into our scheme. If events unfolded as
we expected, we wouldn't be going to the movies tonight at all.
Once in the bedroom, we put on our panties and nothing else, no bras.
We laughed and giggled about us all three having to sleep in one bed
tonight and decided we needed to move it away from the wall so it
would be easy to get in and out from either side. Actually we were
making sure the bed was at center stage in front of the keyhole. We
sat on the bed and started brushing and combing each other's hair
while discussing the pros and cons of various body lotions. Finally
we decided on a lotion and each one of us took turns laying on the
bed and letting the other two girls apply the lotion. The recipient
would sigh and squirm with pleasure and giggle with happy,
spontaneous delight.
Suddenly Sharon stuck her finger in her ear and winked at us - the
prearranged signal. We continued on as though nothing had happened,
but our ears were acutely attuned to any sounds coming from the
closet. Sure enough, we heard the subtle, but telltale sounds of a
boy masturbating. The sounds were barely perceptible and could have
been easily ignored if we weren't specifically listening for them.
"I've got something else we've got to try," Sharon exclaimed, walking
over to her dresser, out of the keyhole's range of view.
Penny was laying on the bed with her feet toward the closet door and
the keyhole. I would grab first one of her ankles, then the other,
stretching it up until her toes almost touched her forehead. With the
other hand I would apply lotion to the backs of her thighs, running
my fingers under the hem of her panties to rub lotion onto her
buttocks.
"Ooh, that tickles!" she cried.
"No, don't tell me it tickles," I said, facetiously. "You're just
being silly!"
Then we both started gigging. We were having fun, but most of all we
were putting on a show and providing a diversion for Sharon who was
stealthily inching her way toward the closet door, out of sight of
the keyhole. Above our own giggling and clowning I could hear
breathing and a soft, subtle, rhythmic "pat pat pat" coming from
behind the closet door. I was shaking like a leaf with nervous
excitement and I was also turned on. If things went as planned, what
was about to happen was unbelievably erotic. I noticed that Penny had
a small spot about the size of a quarter in the crotch of her panties
that was damp with secretions. This told me she was turned on too.
Hugging the wall, Sharon placed both hands on the dead bolt to dampen
any sound, and silently slipped it open. Careful not to cast a shadow
in front of the keyhole, she quietly grasped the knob. She had
practiced this many times. The fact the door opened out into the
bedroom rather than back into the closet was very fortunate for our
plans.
"What's that noise?" she exclaimed loudly, jerking the closet door
open with one quick motion.
"Melvin! Wh... wh... what are you doing?" Sharon appeared to be
startled and transfixed with disbelief.
Penny and I jumped up from the bed and screamed, feigning fright and
astonishment, playing out our roles to the hilt.
Melvin was kneeling on the closet floor where he had been peeping
through the keyhole. He was still holding hid diminutive little
member in his hand. I'm sure he was just about to cum, and we watched
his expression quickly change from erotic anticipation to surprise,
then to horror at his discovery. Unlike Sharon's, Melvin's emotions
were genuine. He was naked except for a pair of girl's panties. He
had pulled the waistband down enough gain access to his member for
masturbating.
"You've been watching us through the keyhole, haven't you?" Sharon
demanded. " We've caught you red handed you perverted little twerp.
You were watching us and... and performing that disgusting, sinful
act. You put your little pee pee worm back in your... What is that
you're wearing? Those are panties; girl's panties. Where did you get
them?"
"I'm... I'm sorry," Melvin whimpered weakly, his initial expression
of surprise now giving way to an expression of shame and
embarrassment.
"Melvin, I asked you where you got those panties! They're mine aren't
they?"
"Y... Ye... Yes."
"You sneaked into my room and stole them, didn't you?"
"N... No, I... I got them off the clothesline."
At this point I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Poor Melvin
was completely mortified now. He was shaking and starting to cry.
"I've heard these noises in the closet for weeks," Sharon continued.
"I suspected, but I didn't want to believe it. I gave you the benefit
of the doubt, but I see my suspicions were right. This is disgusting,
Melvin.
"And what's this?" Sharon asked, adamantly, as she picked up roll of
toilet paper from the floor beside Melvin. "Is this what you clean up
with? I've heard toilet paper rattling in here. That's what it was,
wasn't it? You were trying to clean up your disgusting, sinful little
mess. You've been peeping on me for weeks and doing that unspeakable,
sinful thing while you watched me, haven't you Melvin?
"Answer me! Haven't you?
"Y... Yes, b... but..."
"This is awful," Penny said, with exaggerated dismay and
disappointment in her voice. "Melvin, I thought you were such a nice
boy, and now you're acting like a nasty-minded pervert!"
I could see that Penny's comment cut him to the bone. His jaw was
trembling and he was about ready to bawl.
"Maybe we shouldn't go too hard on him," I said. "After all, it's his
hormones that are causing him to behave like this. He can't help it.
I believe Melvin really is a nice boy at heart. He's just out of
control."
"Well, he's not going to have to worry about his little hormones
after Dad finds out about this. Dad will have Melvin neutered. Had
you forgotten about Dad's promise, Melvin?"
"Pl... pl... please, Sharon. Don't tell Dad."
"Melvin, we just can't let this pass. If you're allowed to get away
with it this time you'll just do it again. Now get up off the floor
and get out of my panties! After Dad has you neutered you won't be
interested in girls and slick nylon panties or anything like that.
You know what it does to the calves and pigs; well, you're going to
be the same way.
Melvin looked up at Sharon with stark terror in his eyes as he
gingerly stood up, holding to the door facing for support. He put his
hands on the waistband of his panties, then looked out at us and
hesitated.
"Go ahead. Get out of them! They're not yours. They're mine!"
Without waiting for Melvin to act, Sharon reached over pulled his
panties down around his ankles and jerked him to one side, forcing
him to step out of them. Then she stepped back and laughed.
"See there, you don't have anything a girl would get excited about.
Besides, as soon as Dad gets home you won't be a boy much longer
anyway. You know it's really for your own good, Melvin. Your
perverted mind would get you into really big trouble someday, even
worse than this. I do feel sorry for you though, Melvin. I hate to
see the beating you're going to get. It will be horrible; you know
that, don't you? Then you will be sent to the boys school, probably
until you're twenty one. I hate to think about what it will be like
for a neutered, sissified, little boy in there with all those big
rough mean boys - and they aren't neutered!"
Melvin was starting to cry and big tears were rolling down his
cheeks. He looked so helpless and vulnerable standing there naked.
His little scrotum was about the size of a golf ball and his little
penis, now flaccid, was about half the length of a cigarette and no
bigger around.
"What do we have here?" Sharon inquired, spotting something on the
closet floor and picking it up.
It was a copy of the Sears catalog, opened to a page in the girls'
underwear and lingerie section. There were stains on the pages and we
knew where they came from. Sharon turned to the girls' swim wear
section and found the pages similarly stained with semen.
"Melvin, this is worse than I thought! You're a real pervert! You're
going to be in so much trouble when Dad gets home. I would hate to be
you, Melvin. Your life is going to be hell from now on. Dad will see
to that!"
"This is so awful," I said. "I wish there were something we could do.
I know it's not really your fault, Melvin. Your hormones have just
caused you to go out of control."
"We're not really mad at you, Melvin," Sharon said, softening her
tone a little bit. "We just don't like what you did. I actually feel
sorry for you."
"I don't want him to have to go off to that old boys school," Penny
said. "Melvin, I really do like you. I like you a lot. But this is
perverted! I wish it didn't have to be this way. I'm going to miss
you so much when they take you away to that place."
That did it for Melvin, and he started crying like a baby. He had
such a crush on Penny and just as she seemed to be reciprocating his
affection he was faced with being sent away to the boys school for
the rest of his youthful years. The thought of it was just crushing
his soul.
"Bless his heart," I said, going up to him and cradling him in my
arms. I held him to me and snuggled his face against my chest. The
feel of his tears running down my bare breasts as he sniveled and
choked was turning me on. I had an overwhelming urge to offer him a
breast to suckle, like a pacifier, but I knew I shouldn't. I was
actually a little surprised that he didn't try something like that
himself, but he was so emotionally devastated that he was beyond
thinking of my attention in a sexual way. He desperately needed
affection and consolation. He was in total submission now, knowing
that his life and future were in our hands.
"I have an idea," Sharon said, thoughtfully, "but you'll have to
agree to it, Melvin. Your perverted behavior and this whole horrible
thing was caused by that little wad between your legs. Dad will have
that taken care of when he gets back, but I don't think you deserve
the beating he'll give you, and I really don't want to see you sent
away to the boys school again.
"Melvin, if you'll let us neuter you we won't have to tell Dad,
because after that we can be sure you'll never do a thing like this
again."
I felt Melvin's body become tense, then limp, as Sharon's words hit
him. He looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes to see if I would
concur with Sharon's decision. Melvin clung to me tightly as his body
began to thimble, his head still nestled between my breasts. I was
larger than him, and the feel of his helpless, naked body clinging to
me in desperate supplication caused a surge of ecstasy to race
through my body. I felt the raw, awesome power of the female over the
male. It was a lot like the rush I got when we castrated calves or
pigs, but much stronger.
"What Sharon says is right, Melvin," I said, as I looked down at his
pleading face. "It would be much better than turning you over to your
father and those people at the boys school."
"W... Will it hurt?" he sniveled.
"Not too much, Mel; not much at all," I said, in a very consoling and
condescending tone as I ran my fingers through his hair. I knew that
in his mind he was preparing to voluntarily surrender his manhood to
us. I found that idea to be more erotic than any other fantasy I ever
had involving boys.
"It won't hurt nearly as badly as that beating Dad will give you if
we have to tell him about this," Sharon said. "And don't forget,
we're experts at this. We're the best castrators in the county, even
better than the vet."
"I think this would really be best for you, Melvin," Penny said. "We
can even make it fun for you!"
"That's right," I concurred. "We'll even let you cum one last time.
You'll be enjoying yourself so much you won't even know when we do
it. They wouldn't be that nice at the boys school; you know that.
They would probably just strap you to a table and cut them out."
"H... How are you going to do it?"
"You just leave that to us," Sharon said. "Now what will it be, Mel,
our way, or Dad's way?"
"O... k... k... Okay, I'll do it your way," Melvin sobbed.
I led Melvin out into the bedroom and Sharon told him to stand with
his legs apart. Sharon and I then squatted on the floor on either
side of him and began examining his testicles with our fingers.
Melvin's body was tense and I almost expected him to bolt and run any
second. I felt a rush of naughty excitement surge through me. We had
done this so many times with calves it felt almost routine, yet I
knew that this time we were about to castrate Sharon's brother! The
feeling was truly weird.
Although it had been a year since Melvin had received his severe
strapping, I could still see the telltale marks on his thighs, made
by the belt. They were light pink and ever so faint. You might easily
ignore them if you didn't know about the strapping. I played my
fingers over them and it helped reinforce my rationalization that
what we were doing was really for Melvin's own good. His testosterone
had caused him to go out of control and that's what caused him to get
in trouble and receive beatings and strappings. If we didn't do this
to him it would only get worse.
"If he were a calf, I'd say use the Elastrator," I said, feeling of
his testicles; they were about the size of small pecans.
"Yeah, the little goat bands," Sharon giggled.
"Oh, don't make fun of him," Penny protested. "I think his little
things are cute. It's really a shame we have to do this to him."
"I know," I said. "He would have been such a nice boy if he could
only have controlled his naughty urges."
"Well, he's about to become a very nice little boy, " Sharon said,
rising to her feet. "Before long, he just won't have any naughty
thoughts. I think we'll use the Burdizzo, though. We don't really
want him to have to watch his little things to dry up and drop off.
That would be harder for a boy than for a calf." Sharon giggled and
walked over to the dresser, behind and out of sight of Melvin.
Of course we had planned to use the Burdizzo all along. We just
talked about the Elastrator to tease Melvin a little. We didn't want
him to have any obvious external signs that anything had happened to
him. Although Melvin still had an expression of fear and distress in
his face, the fondling his testicles had been receiving was causing
him to become erect again. I took his little penis between my fingers
and rolled it around and played with it. I realized that this was the
first time I had ever had my hands on a boy's penis. It felt very
erotic. A part of me wished very sincerely that we wouldn't do this
to him, yet another part of me was being driven wild with ecstasy at
the very thought of it.
Sharon returned from the dresser with the Burdizzo. Melvin never
questioned why the Burdizzo tool was conveniently located in Sharon's
dresser drawer this afternoon. Never mind that the Watkins's didn't
own a Burdizzo and that it was usually kept in our barn. This whole
scene was planned and poor Melvin never caught on. He thought is was
just a spontaneous reaction to his naughty behavior.
"Here," Sharon said, handing me a condom in a foil wrapper. "This
will keep him from making such a mess."
The condom was one of those I had found in the box of Stanley's
things. We would have only four left now. Neither of us had yet
worked up the nerve to go into a drug store in Paxton and buy a pack.
Sharon carefully pressed the closed jaws of the Burdizzo between
Melvin's legs and into his crotch as though she was measuring or
checking the size. (Burdizzos come in different sizes, but we only
had the one.) Melvin jerked a gasped a when he felt the cold metal
against his crotch.
"Spread you legs a little more," Sharon ordered. "and don't worry,"
she giggled, "I'm not going to do it to you right now. I'll wait ‘til
you cum. You're small enough we can get ‘em both with one pinch.
That'll be better for you."
I stood up and locked my left leg around Melvin's right from behind,
pulling it from beneath him a forcing him to lean on me for balance.
I nodded to Penny and she locked his left leg in a similar hold. He
had to place an arm around each of our necks to keep from falling.
Melvin's penis was fully erect now, in spite of his obvious distress.
I tore open the foil pack and removed the condom, then rolled it onto
Melvin's diminutive little organ. The condom was wet and slick with
lubricant and he gasped with pleasure at the sensation. Melvin's
penis was no bigger around than one of those big fat pencils they
give you in first grade, but much shorter. He couldn't have had much
more than three inches. However, the little thing was hard as a rock.
I had never masturbated a boy before and I was rather awkward until I
got the hang of it. However, my fumbling just served to tease him. He
began involuntarily thrusting his pelvis back and forth as I slowly
pumped his little member. I realized from his thrusting that he
wanted me to go faster and the slow pace of my masturbation was
frustrating him. I liked that. The realization that I was holding
pleasure just beyond his reach was very satisfying. The squirming of
his legs and body against mine was turning me on and I had to fight
my desire to take him down on the bed and give him a real fuck. But
we had made a pact when we planned this. We wouldn't allow Melvin to
have real sex, not even for his last time. We would just masturbate
him in a condom.
"It's okay to touch me you know, Mel. You can touch my titties and
feel my panties. You won't be able to think naughty thoughts much
longer so you had better enjoy it while you can. That's a boy. This
is lots better than looking a pictures in a catalog, isn't it Mel?"
"Y... Yeah," he squeaked, frantically.
I was supporting his weight with my left hand in his crotch while I
masturbated him with my right.
"You can touch me too," Penny whined, admonishingly. "I was hoping
you might think I was kind of special. I've always thought you were
special, Melvin. I'm really sorry we have to do this to you; I really
am. But if you love me, and it comes from your heart and not your
balls, it won't matter. Do you love me, Melvin."
"Oh yes, yes, Penny. I do love you," he gasped, diverting his
attention from me to Penny.
"Don't you want to kiss me?", she asked. "I've never been kissed by a
boy before, Melvin, and you'd better hurry up because you're not
going to be a boy much longer."
Melvin began frantically kissing Penny on the face and mouth. I could
tell he was very unpracticed and inexperienced because he was just
smacking her with his lips and not using his tongue at all. (Of
course I wasn't experienced either, but I had read lots of books.)
Penny diverted Melvin's frantic mouth down to her pointed, pear-
shaped breasts and it required no coaxing to get him to take one into
his mouth. He began jabbering nonsense sounds as he alternated
between her breasts and I instinctively knew he would not last much
longer before he came.
"Y'all, do we have to do this to him?" Penny pleaded.
"Yes!" Sharon barked, assertively. "If we don't, he'll get himself in
big trouble later on. It's really in Mel's best interest that we do
this. Look at him. He's completely out of control. Now spread his
legs a little more; it's almost time."
It was as though Melvin's whole body had become a phallus. He was
jerking and quivering as he rushed toward release. With my leg still
locked around his I pulled it further out. Penny swung around until
she was mostly in front of him and he was supporting his weight with
his arms around Penny's neck. I was kneading his little balls with my
left hand and I saw Sharon open the jaws of the Burdizzo.
"Sharon, this is so cruel," I whispered softly to her.
"I know," she replied in the same soft whisper. "Just choke ‘em off
and pull ‘em down."
"Mel, don't go so fast!" Penny admonished. "Don't you want to make it
last? You know that as soon as you cum you won't be a boy anymore, so
slow down and enjoy it."
Melvin was jabbering incoherently, on and off, as he alternated
between Penny's breasts and face, kissing her with his lips. I saw
Penny pull his face to hers and force her tongue into his mouth.
Melvin opened his eyes in joyous astonishment at the unexpected
pleasure (Penny, though inexperienced, had read romance novels too).
I felt a pulsation in his penis, like holding a garden hose when the
water was turned on. I nodded to Sharon who was squatting on the
floor behind Melvin.
Melvin shrieked like a rabbit caught in a trap as the big metal jaws
of the Burdizzo disconnected his little balls from their cords and
blood supply. It happened, as we had planned, at the peak of his
ejaculation. Sharon held the handles together and slowly counted to
seven in a whisper before releasing him. She had followed that
procedure so many times with calves it was like a reflex. I continued
pumping Melvin's penis until I was sure his orgasm was spent, then
Penny and I pulled him down onto the bed and cuddled him between us.
He was sobbing and gasping, and as he looked into our eyes his
expression was one of total surrender. The whole scene had lasted no
more than five minutes and Melvin's life was now changed forever. I
guessed he had fantasized many times about being in bed between me
and Penny, but I doubt that in his wildest dreams he would thought it
could really come true. Now here he was, sandwiched between two
beautiful female bodies, being smothered with kisses and caresses,
his legs entwined with ours, and our firm, naked breasts pressing
against his chest. It was his fantasy come true, except now he was
castrated!
Sharon returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp washcloth and a
towel and began cleaning him up. She felt of his scrotum to check her
handiwork.
"It feels like everything is disconnected," she said with
professional detachment in her voice. "Does it hurt?"
"No, not anymore."
"Did it hurt when we did it?"
"Y... yeah," he sobbed, "it hurt real bad, but it was a good hurt,
like... like... I don't know. Nothing ever hurt so much before, and
nothing ever felt that good before. There's nothing else like it."
We made Melvin cum three more times that evening. We told him we had
to pump all of his hormones out so he would become a total eunuch
much more quickly. Of course we knew it didn't really work that way,
but each time Melvin came he tried to hold back as long as possible,
thinking he could retain his masculinity just a little longer if he
didn't cum. It was both comical and heart rendering to watch him
struggle with it. Above all, however, we found it highly erotic.
When Melvin's parents returned, two days later, they had no idea
anything had happened to him. He had been acting very subdued and
cowed ever since the incident at the school a year ago. He acted no
differently now. For a few days his scrotum was a little pink and
sore where the Burdizzo had clamped him, but otherwise he recovered
beautifully.
About a week later Sharon told me she heard him crying in his bedroom
and she went in to see what was the matter. He was wearing nothing
but a pair of briefs and he pulled them up to cover himself when she
entered. A girls' swim wear catalog was open on the bed beside him.
"Sharon, I can't feel it anymore," he sobbed. "I just can't feel it
anymore!"
"You mean your little pee pee is numb?" she inquired.
"No," he croaked, "I mean inside; inside my mind. I can't make myself
feel about girls the way I used to."
"Well, what do you expect, Melvin? That's the whole idea; you're
castrated!"
He looked up at her with desperation in his eyes. Tears were rolling
down his face.
"Actually, Mel, you can still feel it, and that's what's wrong. You
feel it just a little and it makes you wish you could still feel it a
lot. Once you can't feel it at all, you won't miss it anymore. Before
long, naughty thoughts will just quit entering your mind. Just give
it time."
"Oh Sharon," he bawled. "I don't want to be this way. I don't want to
be this way!"
"It's all for the best, Melvin. Just think of the trouble you would
be in right now if we hadn't done this. Besides, now that you're
harmless, me and Terri Lynn, and Penny can take you into our little
group. It's like you're our mascot now. I love you, Melvin, and Terri
Lynn loves you, and Penny loves you. We love you in a way that we
could never love a regular boy. You're very special now, and you'll
always be a part of our little group."
Melvin collapsed in Sharon's arms and cried for several minutes while
she comforted him.
About a month later Rev. and Mrs. Watkins had occasion to be out of
town again for the weekend, and Penny and I spent two nights with
Sharon and Melvin. Determined to check the results of our little
caper, we took Melvin to bed with us. It was really no surprise, but
we were delighted to confirm that he was as harmless as a stuffed
teddy bear. He did cry a little that night, though; especially when
Penny talked about how she wished he could have grown up to be a man
and they could have gotten married and had children.
As the months passed, Melvin became more and more content with his
new condition. His face still brightened up whenever Penny was around
and he became her willing and eager little flunky. She commanded his
complete loyalty and she never had to worry about another girl
stealing his affections. Penny had just been playing our little game
and pretending to reciprocate Melvin's crush at his castration scene.
That had made Melvin easier to manipulate. However, Penny gradually
became attached to Melvin the same way you would become attached to a
pet. Melvin was certainly the mascot of our little group.
When Melvin became eighteen he registered for the draft and a few
months later he received his notice. Of course without balls he
flunked his physical and was rejected. He told his father that one
winter he had caught something like the flu and it made his balls
swell up. He was embarrassed about it, so he said nothing. When the
swelling went down his balls just kept getting smaller and smaller
and finally went away. Rev. Watkins declared that this was a gift
from God and that it was His will to save Melvin from military
service and combat. It would also take his mind off unclean thoughts
and allow him to more easily live his life for the Lord. Sharon heard
their family doctor say that Melvin may have contracted some unusual
variety of mumps that would have caused this, but he seemed very
skeptical.
This little story might have been nothing more than an isolated
incident had it not been for what Sharon and I did in college, and
beyond. But those are other stories.
______________________________________________________________________
_______
Special thanks to Terri Lynn, Sharon, and Melvin for allowing me to
print this story.
Farrell Squire |
Removal, The | TESTICLES, MINOR, Unfinished? | A captured man has his testicles removed by his Mistress and some "Nurses". | ` Scenes – Removal `
By Ewa Andersson
I had been kidnapped by a couple about a year ago and had been intensely
trained as their new maid. It was very hard to begin with, and each step on my
path of training had been a difficult one. At first just wearing dresses and
skirts was a scary novelty, but now after a year I was used to that. The worst
two steps, so far, had been learning to give blowjobs to my Master and to lick
Master's and Mistress's assholes. They had succeeded in their training,
though, because of the punishment system they had – it was always more
intelligent to follow an order directly than to hesitate or even refuse. So
much pain and humiliation in between and nothing gained at all – just the
order repeated, and having to perform it anyway. Not even once they had missed
that.
Yesterday my Mistress told that "tomorrow is going to be your big day" and
then at night she secured me to my bed with a handcuff. I couldn't have left
the house anyway. Believe me, I had tried, and got so severely punished every
time they had found me I more and more let go of the idea itself. Being living
as a woman is still, after all, much better than being dead, even if you
really are a thirty-two year old man.
I didn't sleep particularly well during the night.
I was fetched my Mistress, who let me visit the bathroom and ordered me to get
dressed. She had put forward a man's shirt and trousers, the underwear was
still female though, a matched set of bra, suspender belt and panties in
frilly red together with black seamed stockings.
When dressed she ordered me to put my hands behind my back. I did and she
locked my wrists together with handcuffs. They had a fur lining and wasn't
that uncomfortable. Then she ordered me to open the mouth. I anticipated what
was coming – the gag, which she pulled tight and buckled behind my head.
"Complain as much as you want to – I can't hear you anyway," she mocked me.
Around my neck she put a wide dog's collar with a leash attached, yanked it
twice and said, "Come!"
I was led outside to the car and put in the front seat. She attached the
safety belt, put herself in the driver's seat and set forth.
The drive took about a couple of hours. I was feeling more and more nervous.
For a very short moment I believed that there was a slight possibility that I
would be set free. That freedom – at last – was the true meaning of "your big
day", but the longer we drove the more sure I became that this idea was a
stupid mistake from my part.
We neared a larger city but we took off and went for the outskirts of it and
after some turning and twisting of the car we stopped outside a discrete
factory or warehouse building. Mistress got out of the car, got round, opened
the door, pulled the leash and said, "Come!"
Glad that we finally had arrived and that I had the time to move my feet and
arms that now were pretty sore from being kept uncomfortable for so long time,
but also scared, because I knew that there was something bad going to happen
as well.
She pressed a doorbell and spoke quickly in the entry phone and we were let
in. She proceeded quickly to another door, which she knocked and was let in.
It looked like a surgery. It had a lot of medical equipment and there were
three other women dressed as nurses in very tight short-skirted still strict
uniforms. One of the women stayed outside while the other two, Mistress and I
continued into yet another room and then I heard the door being locked behind
me. This was uncanny, but had a slight proportion of arousal in it too.
A strong chain was put around my waist, pulled rather tight and then secured
with a padlock. That click was ominous. The other end of the chain was
attached to a sturdy bolt in the floor near the gynaecological chair that was
in the centre of the room. There was even more medical equipment in this room.
Then everything went still until Mistress spoke.
"You know that you are being trained a sissy maid. You have done very well so
far, and Master and I have had a great time training you. We like to see
people suffer so we aren't that disappointed when you don't obey us. Now, the
next important step in your training has come. You are going to loose your
balls. We really must get that awful testosterone out of your system. It still
makes you rebellious, and a real sissy doesn't have balls, has she?"
I couldn't answer that still being heavily gagged.
"Nod if I have your attention!"
I nodded.
"We are now going to take away some of your restraints, but if you speak where
not supposed to or make any attempts at all to defy us we will take your balls
anyway without any anaesthetic at all. Understand?"
I nodded, this time a bit hesitant.
"Understand?" Mistress repeated.
I nodded.
The other two nurses approached me. One unlocked the dog's collar and the gag
and the other the handcuffs. Mistress just looked at me for at least a minute
before continuing:
"You're not to leave this room with your balls left. Even if you by some
wonder would attack and overpower us, which is extremely unlikely. The nurse
outside has the key to the padlock around your waist and to the door of this
room, and she is instructed to not, under any circumstances, whatsoever, open
the door unless two testicles have been passed through that hatch between the
rooms. The two nurses also have a stun-gun each, so just don't get any ideas -
you actually don't have even the slightest chance!"
She continued to look at me. To let these facts sink in. I had to be aware of
the fact that there was no possibility at all to get out of this place with my
precious balls left in their original place.
"Very well then. It could be very easy just to cut the balls off, but since
this is such a fine opportunity to practice real submissiveness, we can't miss
this chance, can we? When I give the command 'Go' you have sixty seconds to
get totally naked, place yourself on this table with your legs in the
footrests and say: 'Please Mistress, can I have my unsightly balls removed so
I can be a real sissy from now on?' The text can be found in large print over
the gynaecological chair, should you forget it. In case you don't fulfil this
we are going to strap you down and just remove the balls anyway. If you do
submit and make everything as instructed we will give an anaesthetic, which
will make the small operation totally free of pain. Nod if you have
comprehended!"
I stood still for a short moment but understood that resistance was futile. I
was also feeling arousal in my pants. I nodded.
"Go!" Mistress said.
I reached for the buttons in my shirt, pulled it up from the chain around my
waist and saved some seconds by pulling it over my head. Then kicking off the
shoes. Bent down for the socks. Would I be in time? Trousers. I next wriggled
out of the bra, reached for the tabs of the suspender belt and undid the
stockings, which I peeled and tore off. Put the hands behind my back to
separate the hook and eye of the suspender belt. Just throwing it on the floor
beside me. I didn't feel the coldness from the chain around my now naked belly
when I tore off my frilly panties because I was so concentrated on what I was
doing. I more or less jumped up in the gynaecological chair, threw my feet up
in the leg rests. I was a bit sad that I had to be in such a hurry. This was a
once in a life time moment, which I wanted to experience a little closer, for
good or worse.
The two nurses were at my side immediately and secured my legs to the leg
rests with roller buckled belts, which also were put around my hips, wrists,
chest and forehead, while I read the text now clearly visible above my head:
"Please Mistress, can I have my unsightly balls removed so I can be a real
sissy from now on?"
Mistress smiled at me. I know I was being good.
She stepped back and one of the nurses took a syringe, which she rapidly
filled with something from a vial. She pressed out the air from the syringe
and stuck the needle into my left testicle. It hurt a lot. Then into the next
one. More pain. After a few minutes Mistress pinched me, what seemed to be
very hard in my left testicle. I didn't feel much.
"May I do it?" she asked looking at one of the nurses.
Ewa Andersson
* * * |
German Death Camp | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | I lost it all during WWII in a German death camp, in Poland. This is my story. | Auschwitz Poland
German death camp
I believe it=s 1943 in about the middle of Winter. We=ve all lost track of
time since arriving at Auschwitz in November. I was separated from my mother
and father immediately upon arrival and haven=t seen them since. I=ve assumed
the worse. Many of my fellow prisoners also had families when they arrived and
have told me that the older males and females, and most children below the age
of 9 were gassed on the day we arrived. I remember seeing the smoke stacks
actually spitting out fire, not just the usual smoke, for several days after
we arrived. In fact, it spit fire all day and all night long.
During my first two weeks I was like a zombie. The German guards were a cruel
lot. They didn’t treat us as humans, but of something more akin to an insect.
They would go out of their way to humiliate and cause more pain than you could
ever imagine
Eventually, I got to work in the German mess. How I got that job is another
sad story. Martin Roth was one of several Jews, like myself, working as in the
staff’s kitchen. He was close to 40 years of age, and just beginning to grow
bald. You could tell he once weighed close to 280 pounds, but now he was just
a skeleton of a man with skin hanging from his arms. He told me he had been in
this camp for six months after starving in the Warsaw ghetto for over a year.
I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I heard a commotion in the dining
room. Chancing getting whipped I took a furtive glance and saw Martin sprawled
out on the floor face down with the food he was carrying all over Sgt.
Wolfman’s black uniform. He was one of meanest SS guards in our sector.
Wolfman’s face was bright red as he stood up, brushing pudding from the front
of his shirt. The other guards were laughing, and this only added to Wolfman's
anger. He had not noticed that one of the other guards had purposely tripped
Martin as he walked by.
Sgt. Wolfman reached down and grabbed Martin by the back of his shirt collar
and tried to pull him up, but slipped on the pudding and landed on top of
Martin and the rest of the pudding. The other guards were now laughing
hysterically, some of them with tears in their eyes. Wolfman got up on one
knee and rolled Martin over onto his back, pulled a dagger from his boot and
slit Martin’s stomach wide open in a split second. Then he reached in and
yanked Martin’s entrails out, stood up and began stomping on them. The whole
room went silent. Nobody was laughing, and a couple of the guards began
throwing up. Martin, half conscious, was tossed out the front door onto the
muddy ground where he died minutes later.
That’s how I moved up from washing dished to waiting on the SS staff. Even
though I’m Polish, I can speak German fairly well, being taught by my
grandmother when I was a toddler. Needless to say, I watched carefully for
anyone trying to trip me. The new job had many extra privileges, like easier
work, even though working 16+ hours a day was tough. We got to eat many of the
scraps the Germans left and shared the food with the sick and starving
prisoners.
Sharing the food scraps with other prisoner ultimately cost me dearly. Six
months after I began my waiter job I was trying to smuggle out some bread and
cheese scraps under my shirt when a female SS guard caught me. She grabbed me
by the arm and yelled for Sgt. Wolfman. She told him what I was trying to do,
showing him the food that was now all over the floor. Surprisingly, he didn’t
appear angry. In fact, he very calmly, using a tone that I’ve never heard him
use before, explained that he was sorry to lose one of his best waiters. I
thought I was going to be put back to washing dishes, or work in the field,
then he said, “You know the penalty for stealing food!” Grinning, he added,
raising his voice, “The firing squad!”
My legs turned to rubber, and I must have turned sheet white. He called two
other large guards over and ordered them to take me away. They actually had to
assist me to walk. My legs just wouldn’t do what I wanted them to do – run.
I heard Wolfman tell my guards to lock me up for the night and that I would be
shot in the morning. They took me across the compound and locked me in a small
cell with no food, water, or means to relieve oneself. I knew I would be
joining my parents shortly and spent most of the night between praying,
planning how I could take a German with me. I couldn’t sleep.
Around 4 a.m. and young German soldier opened my cell door and brought me a
chicken leg and a baked potato. He was a good-looking Aryan with blond hair
and kind blue eyes. I noticed that he limped with a stiff leg. He became aware
I was watching his gait, and commented, “Russian front”, pointing to his stiff
leg and proudly raised his iron cross for me to see. He added that I was one
of the lucky ones – getting shot was easier than being beaten or tortured to
death. I guess not all Germans are Jew haters.
I truly enjoyed my last meal on earth, especially knowing it didn’t get
retrieved from the garbage cans.
Just as the morning sun began to rise in the east I heard my cell door being
unlocked. I was led outside and told to get in line with around 20 other
condemned prisoners. The morning was sunny and warm. We marched two kilometers
to the western edge of the compound where 50 or more other prisoners were
tilling a garden. They were ordered to assist us digging our own graves.
We had to dig a 30 meter long trench, two and one half meters deep, by three
meters wide. When we finished about noon the other non-condemned prisoners
were ordered back to their previous jobs, and we were ordered to strip naked.
Our clothes were taken away and we were ordered to stand facing the ditch with
our hands at our sides.
I kept thinking that I could rush one of the guards. There were only six of
them, and they all carried rifles except the officer that was brandishing a
Walther P38 pistol. I knew the officer would shoot me before I could do much
damage, and you just can’t believe your will to survive, even if it’s for a
minute more.
Then the moment came when the officer ordered his men to back up and take aim.
Normally they would shoot prisoner in the back of the head, but this time
there was no order to face the pit, soon to contain 50 dead bodies. The
soldiers backed up about five meters and took aim. All except one. The officer
yelled, ordering him to take aim. When he refused the officer shot him in the
chest and he fell where he stood. The officer then gave the order to fire.
There were five shots, and five bodies fell into the pit. I couldn’t believe
it. I was still alive. Then another crack of the rifles.
That’s the last thing I remembered. When I came to I was on my back with
several dead bodies pinning my arms over my head. I could barely see. Blood
was streaming down my face covering my left eye. It became obvious that I had
been shot with a grazing blow to my left forehead. Apparently, the officer’s
shooting of his own man had made some of the other soldiers nervous.
Fortunately for me it spoiled my shooter’s aim.
I immediately controlled my breathing and didn’t move a millimeter. From my
position I couldn’t see out of the pit. I listened to see if the soldiers had
gone. A loud pop pop from the officer’s 9mm assured me they had not. The
officer was walking up and down the pit looking for anyone still alive. If he
saw any movement, or breathing, he’d cap off another few rounds. I was holding
my breath as he walked by me, but the man lying across my legs moved slightly.
The officer took aim and shot twice, hitting the man square in the head,
sending brain matter all over my legs, and the second shot took off half the
head on my penis and pierced my ball sack. I hardly felt it, and continued to
play dead. It worked. The officer moved on shooting a few more times and left
with all the soldiers.
I waited about 30 minutes and attempted to move my arms and legs to no avail.
I was really pinned. This is when the torture really began. There were flies
every where. They started to collect on the wound to my forehead, then started
for the moister around my eyes. I was able to shake my head and this seemed to
scatter the flies for a minute or so. Pretty soon the flies found my bloodied
penis and balls. There had to be 25 to 30 flies covering my genitals slurping
up the blood. They weren’t satisfied with just my genitals, some were even
licking away at my ass hole. It felt like they were trying to crawl inside my
rectum. Finally one of them made it in. I tried grunting to expel it, but it
kept buzzing around, still crawling higher and finally stopped. Then another
took its place.
Now there must be around 50 plus flies on my genitals, and were beginning to,
not just lick, but bite the open wounds on my penis and ball sack. At first it
kind of tickled. Then as they drew fresh blood it was like a frenzy. Then it
began to hurt.
I was wondering how long I would have to wait before attempting an escape from
the pit, when someone began shoveling lime over our bodies. I heard it coming
and closed my eyes and held my breath. I wasn’t worried that a guard might see
me, because spreading the lime is done by prisoners.
When the lime landed on my open wounds it stung like hell, but most of the
flies scattered away for a few moments. That was a little relief.
It must have been around 2 p.m. when I noticed I had a few more friends - ants
and yellow jacket. I don’t know which was worst. The bees zeroed right in on
the open wounds and started biting. It felt like they were chewing up my
penis, but I couldn’t raise my head high enough to see. Then the ants began
biting, but not just on the open wounds, but every where on my body. Feeling
the urge to urinate, I got the great idea the urine would shoo the insects
away and sterilize the wound to the penis. I let go. The pain to the penis was
intense. What surprised me though was that I felt the pain down about one
quarter of the way down from the head of my penis. The flies were actually
devouring my penis millimeter by millimeter.
Now the ants had found my urethra. I could feel them begin crawling down
inside the tube, reaching down as far as the ball sack. Again, it tickled at
first. Then the ants must have got into a fight because they began scrambling
up and down the urethra, biting as they went.
The ants and flies were inside my ball sack too just having a eating frenzy.
The only relief I got was night time. It got pretty damned cold as soon as the
sun set, and the insects took a break. At sun up it all began again, even more
intense. By evening I couldn’t feel my penis, or balls. Either they were numb,
or gone, but I could still feel ants crawling inside the urethra and my ass. I
had no more urine to flush them out and just suffered. I attempted to have a
bowel movement, but because I hadn’t eaten there was nothing to excrete.
At about 3 a.m. I woke up and tried to free myself from the other bodies. They
were partially eaten by all the insects. I’m surprised the Germans didn’t just
feed us to their dogs.
It took me almost two hours to free myself. I had almost no strength, just
barely enough to crawl out of the pit. I didn’t see any guards, and began
moving toward the utility shack on my hands and knees. There was a light above
the shack’s door. I moved closer to the light, staying clear of the perimeter
guard towers line of sight.
I looked down to finally see the damage. Where my penis and balls had been was
just a gapping hole, almost the size of a vagina. I touched it with my hand,
but it didn’t hurt much, and it wasn’t bleeding. I guess that was a good sign.
Now I was concerned about getting the wounds infected.
I had to get away, and fast. I crawled almost 100 meters to a barbed wire
fence. This section of fence was normally electrified with high voltage, but I
could see they had been working on this section of fence and it wasn’t
attached to the grid.
I began digging with my hands to make a hole large enough for me to fit under
the wire. As I began crawling under the wire on my back, I heard the foot
steps of a German guard approaching.
I froze. The guard approached with his rifle pointed at my chest. I knew now I
was a goner. I was only half way under the wire. There was no way I could run
in time. Then he flashed his flashlight in my face. “So it’s you my little Jew
boy, is it?” It was the same guard that had given me some food the night
before I was shot. I shook my head yes. He shut off his light and bent down to
whisper, “There’s a small village just north of here about an hour’s walk.
Good luck.” He then stood up and walked away. Who said there weren’t any good
Germans.
I walked to the village and knocked on the door of the first farm house I came
to. It was almost sunrise. I knew I was taking a gamble of being turned in,
but I was in pretty bad shape and very hungry. The farmer, a Pole, knew
immediately that I was an escapee from the camp. When he saw my open wounds he
pulled me inside and doctored me up, fed me, and continued to hid me until the
allies arrived
I went back to the camp after it was liberated to help some of my friends that
had survived. Not many had. A few of the German guards had been captured, and
were in pretty bad shape from beatings. The Russian allies actually let some
of the prisoner tear the arms and legs off a few of the guards.
I recognized one of the guards - the one that had saved my life. I told the
Russian commander what he had done for me and he gave orders that the German
soldier was not to be harmed in any way.
Moreover, the commander gave the German a written pass to take me back home.
He kept his word and stayed with me until I got home. He too was on his way
home, and would have to live with what his brothers in arms had done to
innocent millions.
* * * |
Bryan's Story, Part 5 | PENECTOMY | Bryan enjoys the resort and makes new friends at the clinic before returning home. | ` Bryan – 05 `
The morning after meeting Toby, Bryan decided to take his breakfast in the
resort dining room rather than eat in his room as he had been doing. He had
just settled down to a breakfast appetizer of fresh mixed fruit when Brad slid
into the chair opposite him.
“I know you think I’m an asshole,” Brad said. “And, to be honest, I sometimes
do come across that way. Anyway, that’s beside the point … I don’t know what
you said to Toby last night, but it seemed to calm his fears. I just wanted to
thank you for that.” He stood awkwardly. “So, thanks.” He started to turn
away.
“Wait!” Bryan surprised both Brad and himself. “Um – have you had breakfast
yet?”
“No.”
“Well, why don’t you join me,” Bryan smiled. “I hate eating alone.
Brad sat back down with a sheepish grin, “Look, about yesterday – I’m really
sorry how I came across. It’s just this whole deal with Toby still kinda
freaks me out, y’know?” He ducked his blonde head, embarrassed and then looked
back up, his eyes full of doubt. “And, when I get freaked out by something,
the stupidest things come of my mouth.”
“No worries, dude,” Bryan assured him. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to
judge you. It’s strange, but I never thought about how someone’s friends would
react – I never considered how castration could freak you out, too.”
“It’s not just that,” Brad confided, leaning over the table. “See, I kinda
feel guilty – like it’s my fault Toby has to get his nuts cut off.”
“How so?”
“Well – I know he explained what happened and all.” Bryan nodded that he
understood and Brad needn’t go through all the details again. “Well, the
Committee’s first reaction was to throw Toby out of the Society. I’m the one
who suggested he go before a tribunal and be punished.” Bran turned his hands
palms up on the table helplessly. “I never figured they’d make his punishment
so harsh. See, I figured they’d make him pay back the alum, not let him vote
or participate in our activities. Hell, maybe I even thought they’d cane his
butt – but that was like the worst I figured they’d do.”
“Did you suggest to this tribunal that Toby should be castrated?” Bryan asked.
“Hell no!”
“So, you just tried to keep him from being kicked out of your group,” Bryan
said, thoughtfully. “And, Toby doesn’t have to go through with the surgery if
he doesn’t want to.” He held up his spoon when Brad tried to protest. “From
what Toby explained to me, if he stays in your group he’s going to have all
these advantages open to him that most people would never get. Am I right so
far?”
“Well, yeah,” Brad admitted. “But ….”
“But, nothing,” Bryan cut him off. “It seems to me that he royally screwed up,
and you tried to make sure he got a second chance. You didn’t know this
tribunal thingie would give out such a harsh punishment.” Bryan absently
arranged his silverware. “Sounds like these guys on the tribunal really didn’t
think Toby would have the guts to accept their punishment.”
“So what’re you getting at?”
“What I’m getting at,” Bryan said evenly, “is that it’s not your fault Toby
got this punishment. Beating yourself up over it isn’t going to help you and
it sure isn’t going to help him deal with it.” He reached across the table and
patted Brad’s hand. “If you really wanna help Toby, just keep being his
friend. Be there for him.”
“That’s easy to say,” Brad complained.
“It’s even easier to do,” Bryan assured him. “The other thing you need to do
is stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault.”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” Brad said. “But, it just sounds too easy – I
wish there was something else I could do. Man, I’d do anything to help Toby.”
“Anything?”
“Anything, man,” Brad assured him.
“Give me your wallet for a second,” Bryan said, holding out his hand. “No
arguments, dude – I won’t steal anything. Just hand it over.”
Brad fished his wallet from his back pocket and handed it over in confusion.
Bryan quickly rifled through it, finding a fat wad of cash and three platinum
cards. He grinned and handed the wallet back to brad intact.
“So what’s the deal?” Brad asked.
“The deal is we have breakfast,” Bryan said, cheerfully. “And, then you’re
going to spend some money on your friend.”
Brad wanted to know what Bryan had in mind, but Bryan refused to say another
word on the subject. He just grinned a Cheshire Cat grin, his brown eyes
twinkling as he filled his mouth with breakfast.
After breakfast, Bryan asked Brad to bring Toby to the shopping mezzanine.
While he was waiting for Brad to return, he called Simon and Kev, quickly
outlining his plans to them. He could hear Simon relaying his plan to Kev
through the receiver. Suddenly, Kev’s whoop of delight carried through the
phone. They arrived in the lobby about five minutes before a very confused
Brad returned with an even more confused Toby. Simon and Kev immediately
surrounded Toby and began critically examining him from head to toe.
“You’re right, Bryan,” Simon called over his shoulder. “This boy needs our
help desperately.”
“What do you mean?” Toby asked, totally unbalanced by the close scrutiny he
was receiving.
“Just trust us,” Kev cooed.
A moment later, both Kev and Simon each grabbed one Toby’s elbows and
propelled him towards the hair salon while Bryan took Brad’s arm and steered
him along behind the others. Once in the salon, it didn’t take long before a
totally bewildered Toby found himself in a chair as three stylists began
applying bleaching paste to his hair and wrapping it in foil strips. Simon and
Kev overwhelmed Toby’s feeble protests, telling him to just sit back and enjoy
himself. Bryan wasn’t too sure anyone could really enjoy themselves much with
the acrid odor of the bleach, but figured the pampering would go a long way to
making the experience at least memorable, if not actually enjoyable. Since the
shop wasn’t busy that early in the morning, nearly the entire staff was trying
to wait on Toby – bringing him café lattes, massaging his hands, offering him
delicate pastries. By the time all of Toby’s hair was wrapped in foil, it
looked like his head was covered in tin shingles.
After sitting under heat lamps for nearly a half hour, the shampooist removed
the foil wraps and rinsed the bleach from Toby’s hair. Bryan was impressed
with the results – Toby’s dull, mousy brown hair was now a very natural,
golden blonde with sun-bleached highlights. Toby, however, wasn’t given an
opportunity to see his new look before the stylist went back to work on his
hair, rolling it on small perm rods. Simon checked the rods, shaking his head
and suggesting an even smaller red rod. Smiling his understanding, the stylist
switched to the smaller rods. It took almost three-quarters of an hour for the
stylist to section and roll Toby’s hair on over one-hundred small rods. Once
again, his protests were talked down by sheer force of Simon’s persuasive
personality.
When the last of the rods was in place, each of the perm rods was covered with
a foul-smelling perm solution before Toby was led to a cone-shaped hair dryer.
The dryer was hardly in place and drowning out most of the sounds in the shop
when Toby found a manicurist working on his nails. Periodically, the stylist
would lift the dryer and check the progress of Toby’s hair – he’d smile and
ignore Toby’s worried questions, patting his cheek before lowering the dryer
hood again.
An hour later, Toby was back in the stylists chair as each of the curling rods
was carefully removed from his hair. As with each other time in the chair, he
was faced away from the mirror and had no idea of exactly what had been done
to his hair. Only when the stylist began snipping away at his hair and the
locks dropped to the cape did Toby get a good idea of the changes that had
been done to his hair. His eyes grew wide and round in shock when he saw the
tight blonde curls raining down on the cape as the stylist snipped away.
Looking up, he found everyone looking at him with wide smiles on their faces.
Showers of golden ringlets rained down as the stylist’s scissors continued to
snip away. As more and more curls filled the cape, Toby’s stomach began to
feel queasy. He imagined he looked like a poodle. In his mind’s eye, he could
see people stop to stare and then laugh at him.
Simon was standing by the stylist’s side, nodding in satisfaction. It was
Simon who spun the chair around to face the mirror when the stylist finally
finished his work. Toby did a double take when he saw his reflection – his
fears of looking like a poodle dissipated like the morning mist before the
bright sun. He couldn’t believe the image in the mirror was really him. His
blah, unmanageable hair was gone – in its place were short, tight, golden
curls that made him look amazingly like Justin Timberlake from “N Synch. His
look of shock was slowly replaced with a dumbfounded grin of amazement. Toby
twisted his head from side to side examining the new style. The sides and back
had been cropped short, leaving the barest hint of curls. He was wondering how
he was going to afford the new style when he saw Brad pull a credit card from
his wallet and hand it to the receptionist.
“Well mate, what do you think?” Kev asked, draping his arm over Toby’s
shoulder.
“I – I can’t believe that’s really me,” Toby gasped.
“That’s just the beginning,” Simon assured him from the other side of the
chair. “You’re getting a top to toe makeover today – when you leave this
resort, you’re going to be a whole new person.”
The Australians guided Toby from the salon straight to the men’s boutique and
once again took charge, picking out a whole new wardrobe for the new Toby they
were creating. Instead of shorts, Simon drifted towards the tropical weave
linen trousers and gauze shirts. By now, Brad was no longer complaining about
what the whole deal was going to cost him. Seeing how hot Toby looked with a
new hairstyle, he quickly grew excited about continuing the transformation,
and even insisted on springing for new underwear for the new wardrobe.
“Go for the bikini briefs,” Kev advised him. “Take it from me – the voice of
experience – the bikinis will fit so much better with no balls to stuff in
them.” They turned to look at the new outfit Toby was modeling – natural
colored linen pleated slacks and a crisp white linen shirt over a yellow
T-shirt. “Looks delicious, doesn’t he?” Kev asked.
“I gotta admit he does,” Brad said.
“He looks good enough to eat,” Kev said, admiringly. He noticed Brad was
blushing, but still unable to take his eyes from his good friend. “Oh, don’t
even tell me you haven’t had him, yet!” Kev moaned, rolling his eyes in
exasperation.
“I kinda wondered what it would be like a couple of times,” Brad admitted.
“But, he never looked this hot before.”
“You must be as dumb as you are cute,” Kev said, in wonder. “All he ever
needed was a little refining of his packaging. That lad is like a diamond in
the rough – kind of plain and easy to overlook at first, but polish them up
and they both dazzle the eyes.”
From the clothing shop, the group drifted to the beachside café for lunch.
Bryan was midway through his appetizer when Kev nudged him, tilting his head
towards Brad and Toby. Bryan was surprised to see Brad staring in rapture at
his friend. For his part, Toby was responding to the sudden attention –
smiling for no apparent reason at his blonde friend and unconsciously licking
his lips in subconscious invitation. After lunch, it didn’t surprise anyone
when Brad excused himself and Toby – giving a lame excuse for not spending the
rest of the afternoon with their new friends. Bryan watched as they walked
away and almost burst out laughing when he saw Brad tentatively take Toby’s
hand in his own once he thought they were out of sight of the others.
After lunch, Bryan returned to his suite and decided to take a siesta and try
out the hammock on the deck. It wasn’t long before the lazy rays of the sun
and gentle rocking motion of the hammock lulled Bryan into a light sleep. He
dreamed of the events of the morning – watching Toby’s transformation from
genial, but unkempt, geek into a real hunk. The images of Toby with a head
full of tight, but casual curls filled his mind. The sound of a gull shrieking
brought Bryan to the edge of wakefulness, images of Toby’s cute face still
flashing through his mind. In his half-awake state, Bryan became aware of the
familiar urge to reach down and fondle his cock. He could feel it jutting up
erect from his lower belly. Unconsciously, Bryan reached down and closed his
hand around – NOTHING.
Bryan jerked up in the hammock, wide awake and remembered – he didn’t have a
cock down there anymore. But, he still had a desire to jerk off right then and
there. His heart was beating faster and his breathing was heavier than normal.
It was like before the operation, Bryan felt the desperate urge to reach down
between his legs and relieve the pressure that was building up. But, he
couldn’t.
Rolling out of the hammock, Bryan hurried through his bedroom, quickly
stripping out of his clothes as he headed to the bathroom. Standing naked in
front of the full length mirror, Bryan reached down and ran his fingers along
the scar where his penis had been. It felt nice, but did nothing to relieve
the growing urgency to bring himself to orgasm.
Dressing quickly, Bryan headed to Dr. Javier’s office. He couldn’t figure out
what was wrong – he hadn’t had any urges to masturbate since the surgery. Now,
they were back and he had no way of relieving them. He had to wait an hour
before Javier was free enough to see him.
Once in the doctor’s office, Bryan was asked to strip so Javier could examine
him. Laying back on the table, Bryan felt like squirming as Javier ran his
fingers lightly along the incision line. The doctor’s gentle touch was sending
tingles of excitement running up and down Bryan’s spine, only adding to his
desire to jerk off right then and there. Finally, Javier grunted and laid a
reassuring hand on Bryan’s belly.
“Everything’s perfectly normal,” Javier said. “You’re just sexually aroused.”
“But, I haven’t had these feelings since you operated,” Bryan said,
frustrated.
“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” Javier said, a smile flitting across his face.
“You were on a hormone suppressor following the surgery. We didn’t want you to
disturb your incision during that time. The suppressor has obviously run its
course and worn off.” He reached down and laid his hand on Bryan’s testicles.
“If you really wanted to get rid of the urge to masturbate, young man, you
should have had these removed instead of having that beautiful penis removed.”
“I think you knew you’d still have urges,” Javier continued. “But, I don’t
think you considered how intense they would be – especially as they build up
over a period of days and even weeks with no relief. You’re going to find your
self-control sorely tested, young man.”
Bryan sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the examination table. Javier
was right – he hadn’t counted on how intense his need for relief would be. He
started getting dressed.
“Of course,” Javier said, a strange gleam in his eye. “That doesn’t mean there
isn’t a way for you to seek relief whenever you want it.”
“Really?” Bryan was intrigued, but a little wary.
“Prostate stimulation will bring you to orgasm quite nicely,” Javier said, his
face taking on a smug look that Bryan found himself disliking. “You know what
prostrate stimulation is, don’t you?” Javier moved up next to Bryan and began
rubbing his hand over Bryan’s underwear clad butt. “You don’t have to do much
at all – in fact, you really wouldn’t have to do anything except bend over.”
Bryan quickly moved away from Javier’s roving hand, pulling his shorts up
quickly and buttoning them. “I don’t think so,” Bryan said, trying to control
his voice. “I’m not interested in that kind of sexual release.”
“Of course not. I understand,” Javier said, backing away smoothly. “It was
just a suggestion.” He opened a desk drawer and revealed a battery-operated
vibrator. “You could always masturbate with one of these,” he said, nodding
towards the open desk drawer.
Bryan just nodded as he continued to dress. He wasn’t sure what to make of
Javier’s suggestions – and more importantly, he wasn’t sure what to make of
Javier himself. Bryan thought Javier’s behavior – especially the butt fondling
– was strange. It was possible, he thought as he buttoned his shirt, that the
doctor was just trying to make his patient more comfortable in a very
uncomfortable situation. But, there was something unsettling in Javier’s
expression – that unusual gleam, almost a leer, in his eyes. Finished
dressing, Bryan was just reaching for the door when Javier stopped him.
“There is also another very natural release for what you are experiencing
presently,” the doctor said, his voice once again professional and sincere.
“It won’t be long before you once again begin experiencing nocturnal emissions
or wet dreams. That is the body’s own release valve, so to speak. So, don’t be
too alarmed if you awake to wetness in your underwear or pajamas. It’s to be
expected.”
More confused now by the doctor’s behavior, Bryan nodded and thanked Javier
for his time and advice. Slowly wandering back to his suite, he replayed the
entire incident over and over in his mind. Every word, vocal inflection, and
move by Javier could just have been a matter of misinterpretation on Bryan's
part. Then again, Bryan couldn’t get past the feeling that there was something
else behind Javier’s manner. He had the uncomfortable feeling that Javier
actually liked the idea of watching his penectomy patients experience the kind
of frustration he was going through now. He also couldn’t shake the impression
that Javier really enjoyed the humiliating moment when he suggested bending
over for anal sex.
Anal sex – the corners of Bryan’s mouth turned down at the very thought of it.
He had no problem admitting to himself – and now, to his new friends, that he
was gay. He knew that sooner or later, he’d come out to his family. That was
sure to be an interesting event, he told himself. But, the one thing he
couldn’t deal with as a gay male was anal sex. The thought repelled him –
hell, it was more than repelling to him. It was physically disgusting – in all
forms. He’d no more use a vibrator or dildo on himself, than he would bend
over and allow anyone to fuck his ass.
Back in his suite, Bryan stripped quickly and jumped into the shower,
adjusting the water to as cold as he could stand it. He let the water spray
over his body, his eyes closed and tried to banish all thoughts from his mind.
Slowly, his mind let go of his thoughts and concentrated on how good the cold
water felt washing over him. It was kind of like meditating – banishing
thoughts by paying attention only to external stimulation. He found himself
relaxing. Bryan finally turned the water off and stepped out of the shower,
wrapping himself in a giant bath sheet. Not really drying himself off, just
kind of allowing the towel to absorb the water rolling off his body.
Wearing the bath sheet toga style, Bryan padded back into the bedroom and
stretched out on the bed with his eyes closed. He reexamined his decision to
have his dick removed, asking himself if he had acted without carefully
considering all of the possibilities. Maybe Javier was right – maybe he should
have kept his penis. It certainly was beautiful. Maybe he should have opted
for castration, or even complete nullification – that certainly would have
eliminated his constant masturbation. But, those options carried their own set
of problems. Without his testicles, he’d be required to find a reliable source
for male hormones to prevent his body from becoming effeminate. And, with
hormones, he’d once again experience the need to masturbate. That would place
him right back in the very situation he was trying to control – only without
balls.
Of course, with complete nullification, he wouldn’t be able to masturbate and
he’d still have the feeling he needed to jerk off – pretty much the situation
he found himself in at the moment. Unless he didn’t take hormones. And without
replacement hormones, he’d develop breasts – maybe not big breasts, but he’d
still have breasts rather than nicely developed pectorals. His hips would
round out and become more feminine. No, he decided, that wasn’t an option. His
initial decision to opt for a penectomy had been the correct one. He just
hadn’t factored in the intensity of his urges. The truth was, Bryan realized,
he had assumed that his physical desires would diminish slightly once his
penis was gone. That’s where the mistake in his calculations had been.
Okay, Bryan thought, he had identified the miscalculation – his original
premise was still correct. Without a penis to obsess him, he wouldn’t be able
to masturbate. His urges to jack off would remain the same, but he no longer
had a means for immediate release. That meant no more jacking off in the boys
toilet at school – those had been his least favorite jack off sessions,
anyway. He’d never been able to take the proper amount of time necessary to
achieve a really satisfying orgasm. Those sessions had always been more
mechanical. He’d always been able to control his conscious mind – it was the
unconscious impulses and, more importantly, the unconscious physical responses
to those unconscious impulses, that had driven him to jerk off so often. Bryan
took a deep breath and willed his mind to search for solutions to his dilemma.
Well, for one thing, he could avoid situations that triggered sexual
responses. A mental chuckle echoed in his mind – right, he admitted to
himself. He’d have to lock himself in a windowless room and even then, it
might not work. Okay, he told himself, accept that sexual triggers are always
going to be around – they will surely make him feel like jacking off. But now,
he won’t have the feeling of his penis being confined in his pants to make him
so uncomfortable that he had to jerk off just to get a moment’s relief. And,
without the ability to masturbate whenever the physical urges overwhelmed him,
Bryan would finally be able to exercise conscious self control of his urges.
Bryan’s eyes snapped open, a smile playing across his lips. He’d found the
answer – all he had to do was accept that the mental urges would remain with
him. When they manifested themselves, all he had to do was turn his conscious
mind to another matter and concentrate on that. It would work – well, it
should work. He sat up and swung out of the bed, hunting his clothes. He
needed to test his theory. Quickly dressing, he hurried to the café and hoped
Jamison was working. He was sure the sight of the cute waiter would get his
hormones racing again.
Standing in the doorway of the café, Bryan was rewarded with the sight of
Jamison – his glossy black hair slicked back from a razor sharp high right-
hand part. Turning, the waiter caught sight of Bryan in the doorway and
motioned him to a table with a dazzling smile. Already Bryan found his heart
beating a little faster as he made his way over to the table. He waited
patiently as Jamison served his other tables. Bryan was sure the stud was
purposely bending over a little more often than he really needed to, just to
let Bryan have the treat of watching his firm ass. If he only knew that Bryan
far preferred staring at his handsome face.
For the first time, Bryan noticed that Jamison had deep dimples when he
smiled. Those dimples gave him a devilish boy-next-door look that Bryan found
appealing. And his mouth – it naturally turned up at the corners, kind of like
a dolphin, making him look always on the verge of breaking into a smile. Bryan
found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss that mouth. He swallowed
hard imagining what it would be like to be that close to the handsome waiter –
kissing him and running his fingers through his thick hair.
Bryan’s daydreams were interrupted by Jamison’s face bending close to his own,
that bright smile dazzling him momentarily. He almost gave in to the impulse
to lean forward and kiss the waiter. It wouldn’t take much at all, Bryan
realized – all he had to do was lean forward another foot or so. He shook his
head and returned Jamison’s smile.
“How’s it going today?” Jamison asked. “Where’re your friends? Seems kind of
strange to see you all alone.”
“Oh – they’re around somewhere,” Bryan answered. “Just felt like a little time
to myself, is all.”
“I know that feeling,” the waiter replied. “You looking for something to eat,
or just a drink?”
Bryan realized he hadn’t thought of whether he really wanted anything to eat
or drink, “Um, I’m not really hungry,” he stalled. “What would you suggest?”
“Oh – everything here is good,” Jamison grinned. “Looking for something light?
Maybe something sweet?”
“I’m not sure,” Bryan admitted, truthfully.
“Maybe you’re feeling a little devilish and sinful,” Jamison said playfully.
“Let me surprise you.”
“Cool – I’d like that, I think,” Bryan replied, grinning.
With a wink, Jamison was gone. Was there something extra in that wink, Bryan
found himself wondering. He let himself return to his daydream of being close
to Jamison – maybe his close friends called him Jamie, Bryan thought. Even
though the bat-wing tux shirt wasn’t form fitting, there was no hiding the
fact that Jamison had a good physique under his uniform. Bryan imagined the
smooth, dancer’s build Jamison probably had – it had to be a dancer’s build
because of the graceful way he moved, Bryan decided.
Bryan’s daydreams were set aside once again as Jamison reappeared, smoothly
weaving his way through the tables on the deck. Bending low over Bryan, the
waiter slid a plate onto the table.
“Double chocolate torte with whipped cream,” Jamison said, handing Bryan a
fork. “Sinfully and sensually delicious,” Jamison said. Bryan tasted a piece
and had to admit how right the waiter was. The cake was rich, the frosting
smooth and delicious. “You know,” Jamison asked, suggestively, “chocolate
releases the same endorphins as sex?”
“Is that why I have an urge to cry ‘Oh my God’?” Bryan asked, blushing as the
words crossed his lips.
“So they say,” Jamison answered with another wink, before moving on to check
on another table.
Between the flirting with possibly the cutest waiter Bryan had ever seen in
his life and the seductively rich torte, Bryan’s motor was roaring full bore.
There was no doubt in his mind that if he still had the wherewithal to take
matters into hand, he would be seeking a place to do so. He quickly finished
his snack, making sure to leave a large tip for Jamison as he left. Crossing
through the lobby, Bryan could feel his desire to jack off growing rather than
cooling down. He paused and glanced around – he needed something to
concentrate on. A grin split his face when his eye fell on the entrance to the
arcade.
Stepping into the cool darkness of the arcade, Bryan got a couple of dollars
worth of tokens and started playing a shoot ‘em up video game. At first, his
video persona kept getting shot – but, as he willed himself to concentrate, he
found himself not only getting better scores, he was actually enjoying
himself. By the time he ran out of tokens, Bryan discovered his mounting urge
to jack off had passed. Grinning broadly, he treated himself to another five
dollars in tokens and returned to the video game. By the time he ran out of
tokens, he had not only managed to get his initials among the top ten winning
scores, he found he actually enjoyed the game. And, more to the point, Bryan
found the urge to masturbate had passed.
Bryan spent the rest of his time at the resort hanging out with Kev, Brad and
Toby. They sat with Brad the morning Toby went under the knife, and organized
a party to celebrate Toby’s joining the ranks of those who had been cut. With
their support, Toby found new dimensions in his relationship with Brad. Kev
predicted that the two would officially be life partners by the time Winter
Break rolled around. All too soon, the day approached for Bryan to prepare to
leave the resort. He found himself in the thrall of conflicting emotions as he
packed. He knew he was going to miss his new friends, and found himself
wanting to stay at the resort. But, he also knew Simon and Kev would be
leaving just a week after his own departure.
He was, however, becoming more and more uncomfortable at the resort because of
Dr. Javier’s attitude. The doctor began scheduling more and more appointments
for Bryan. At each meeting, Javier spent a long time asking Bryan about his
returning sex drive – suggesting Bryan might want to consider having his
testicles removed to alleviate his growing urges to masturbate. When Bryan
refused to even consider that option, Javier returned to his recommendations
that Bryan consider anal sex as a new outlet for his urges. Javier was always
outwardly professional, but there was something about the look in his eyes and
the tone of his voice that made Bryan uncomfortable. Sometimes, Bryan had the
feeling that the doctor was trying to hypnotize him into following his
suggestions.
Tossing the last of his socks into his bag, Bryan zipped it up with a sense of
relief. He was glad to get away from the influence of the doctor and move on.
Glancing around the suite one last time, Bryan hefted his bag to his shoulder
and walked out for the last time. In the lobby he found Sam waiting for him.
The British doctor grinned and hugged Bryan, telling the young man that he was
going to be driving Bryan to the airport.
The two chatted mostly about nothing in particular for most of the drive to
the airport – the topics ranged from the various movies they each liked, to
experiences in school. Finally, as they neared the airport, Sam got serious.
“Look, Bryan,” he said, glancing over at his passenger. “It’s been pretty easy
for you down here since your surgery. You had friends who shared similar
experiences. From now on, you’re going to be the odd man out.”
“I know,” Bryan said, softly.
“So, I want you to promise to call me if things get too hard for you to
handle,” Sam said, his voice taking on a slight urgency. “I don’t want you to
think you’re alone.”
“Thanks,” Bryan said, feeling his throat growing tight. “Kev and Simon said
the same thing. I figure between the three of you, I can get over any rough
spots. It’s just good to know there’s somewhere for me to turn if I need it.”
Reaching the airport, Sam guided the Range Rover towards the Air Charter
field. Only one plane stood ready for boarding – a battered-looking twelve
passenger plane that had seen better days. The pilot and co-pilot acted as
ground crew, taking Bryan’s bags and promising him the plane really was in
much better condition than she looked. Climbing aboard the plane, Bryan wasn’t
so sure their assurances were all that true. Strips of duct tape haphazardly
covered tears in the seats. The other passengers – all young people headed to
San Miguel on the rebuilding project seemed to be sharing Bryan’s initial
misgivings. He took a seat and wondered if he should pray for a safe flight or
a quick and painless death.
Once engines kicked over, most of the passengers breathed a sigh of relief –
the motors had a healthy, deep-throated steady hum that was reassuring. There
were no coughs or sputters – one minute the engines were off and the next,
they were roaring with power. Bryan just wished the flight to San Miguel was
as smooth as the sound of the engines. The small plane seemed to bounce and
sway for the entire hour-long flight. Staring out the window, Bryan saw the
village grow in the distance.
Even so long after the hurricane, Bryan could see how bad the damage there had
been. Piles of rubble stood next to foundations of what had once been
buildings. A small tent city stood at one end of town. Looking around, Bryan
couldn’t see an airport. He wondered if they were going to fly to the next
town and have to drive back. But, that wasn’t about to happen. The pilot
simply flew low over the village twice before lining up over the road into
town and setting down on the hard packed dirt road.
The plane had hardly come to a stop before it was surrounded by villagers and
relief workers alike. But, the first thing that struck Bryan was the heat.
Stepping off the plane was like stepping through a wall of hot, wet, sticky
cotton. The slightest movement brought rivers of sweat. A woman named Ruth,
introduced herself as the head of the school project and herded Bryan and
several other teens towards a stake bed truck. Everyone had barely settled
down before the truck lurched off, bouncing over the uneven ground – not even
bothering to follow the road to the tent city.
Bryan found himself assigned to a round army tent with one other boy his age.
Setting up his cot, Bryan glanced over at the other teen – he was about the
same build as Bryan, maybe a little shorter. His sandy hair was straight,
thick and cut in a bowl cut style that kept falling into his green eyes. He
caught the other teen checking him out and laughed.
“Hi, I’m Bryan,” he said, extending his hand.
“I’m Owen,” the sandy-haired teen said, grinning, clearly not embarrassed at
being caught checking out his new tent mate. Owen came from a small town on
the coast of Oregon and was clearly impressed to find Bryan was from Southern
California. Chatting politely together, Bryan discovered they both enjoyed
snorkeling and hanging out on the beach. With their gear stowed and
introductions over, they wandered down to the mess tent where they found Ruth
was already organizing the newcomers into teams. After a quick lunch of a
sandwich and cup of soup, the two young men found themselves assigned to
laying cinder blocks for the rest of the afternoon.
Ruth took them around to the school where they found the foundation had
already been poured and cured and the walls had already been started. A burly
man with a big belly and walrus moustache ambled over to them, introduced
himself as Jake and showed them how to spread the mortar and lay the blocks in
place. Jake showed them how to use a rubber mallet to set the blocks and make
sure it was even with the level line that had been stretched. The whole lesson
took about ten minutes before Jake turned them loose and let them get down to
work.
Bryan was surprised to find he was a natural at slapping the mortar on the
previous layer of blocks before setting a new block in place. Owen seemed to
have no problem with laying the blocks, either. It didn’t take long before he
and Bryan had a pretty steady pace going. By the time Jake called for them to
stop for the day, they had managed to lay four whole tiers all the way around
the medium-sized building. Once they stopped, Bryan’s muscles – especially
those in his shoulders and neck – began throbbing with a regular, steady dull
ache. He also realized he was ravenous – he happily headed straight for the
mess tent where he was rewarded with a huge helping of meatloaf, mashed
potatoes, and peas.
After dinner, Bryan wandered down to the rocky beach and found himself a nice,
secluded cove. Sinking heavily to the pebbled beach, he rested his forearms on
his knees and stared out to sea. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting
there when Owen dropped down beside him. They chatted aimlessly about the day,
their lives back home, and nothing in particular. Noticing Bryan occasionally
reach up and rub his neck, Owen scooted behind him and began massaging Bryan’s
neck.
“Man, you’re really tight!” Owen exclaimed as he kneaded Bryan’s aching
muscles. It didn’t take long before Bryan began to lean back, sighing in
pleasure at the relief Owen’s magic fingers was bringing him. Once again, he
began feeling the buildup of an erotic delight. He sighed again and was
shocked to find Owen’s chin resting on his shoulder, as his arms enveloped
Bryan in a tight and more than friendly hug. Before he could say anything,
Bryan felt Owen’s mouth kissing the side of his face.
“Just relax and go with the flow,” Owen whispered in Bryan’s ear. “I can tell
you like it from the way you were moaning.” He moved his hands over Bryan’s
chest, searching for the tender nipples under his T-shirt and giving them both
a little twist. He nuzzled the short-cropped hair on the side of Bryan’s head
just over his ear. “Mmmmm, I love the way short hair like yours feels when I
rub my cheek against it,” Owen murmured.
Bryan surprised his tent mate by twisting in his arms and kissing him hard on
the mouth, his hands running through Owen’s silky golden locks. Breaking the
kiss for a breath of air, Bryan whispered back, “And, I love the feel of your
silky hair between my fingers.” He pushed back and soon the two of them were
stretched side by side on the pebbly beach, kissing and playfully biting at
each other. It wasn’t long before Owen tried reaching down between Bryan’s
legs.
Playfully pushing Owen’s hand away, Bryan wondered how his tent mate would
react to find there was only smooth skin above Bryan’s ball sac. Would he be
fascinated or freaked out? Bryan was almost tempted to let Owen discover his
secret, but decided that was a secret that could best wait until they knew
each other better – and maybe not even then. He found himself having to ward
off more of Owen’s advances and decided he had better take charge of the
situation.
Reaching out, Bryan fondled Owen’s genitals through his cut-off shorts. He
liked what he felt – from what he could tell, Owen had a respectable sized
package stuffed into those shorts. He started tugging and pulling at Owen’s
shorts, trying to get them down over his slender hips. Owen excitedly
unbuttoned his shorts and helped Bryan pull the cut-offs down, letting his
hard dick spring free.
Bryan straddled Owen’s knees and examined the six-and-a-half inch dick that
stood erect from Owen’s lower belly. It had a nice shape, Bryan thought
critically – almost as good as his had been. His fingers itched to wrap
themselves around the fleshy rod. Obviously, Owen felt the same way because he
started jacking himself off. Amused, Bryan playfully slapped Owen’s hands
away.
“Not that way,” Bryan whispered seductively, leaning low over his tent mate.
“You’ve got to learn to take your time and seduce your cock – get your whole
body involved.” He smiled as he reached out and took Owen’s face in his hands.
He began by pushing Owen’s fair hair back off his ears and then gently
massaging each ear – working his fingers gingerly from the tips down to the
lobes. Owen’s breathing grew heavier, bringing an even broader grin to Bryan’s
face. He worked his hands from Owen’s ears back to the nape of his neck –
letting his fingertips tickle Owen’s neck. He watched as his tent mate’s
nipples began to poke up, growing hard.
“Spread your arms wide,” Bryan said. “That’s right – all the way out to your
sides.” He slid his hands from Owen’s neck down over his shoulders and began
rubbing Owen’s smooth, hairless chest. Bryan knew from many years’ experience
just how good his fingers were making Owen feel. He let his fingers glide from
Owen’s chest down into those erect nipples. The teen from Oregon was going to
learn something new from the Master of jacking off, Bryan thought,
mischievously teasing the pink buttons. Beneath him, Owen was twisting and
writhing in growing excitement. Bryan intensified his attention to Owen’s
nipples, gently squeezing them, making them grow even harder.
Glancing down, Bryan saw Owen’s erect dick was leaking copious amounts of pre-
cum, trickling down along the shaft and soaking the teen’s thicket of blonde
pubic hair. Impishly, Bryan lightly traced his index finger along the crown of
the purple mushroom head of the cock beneath him, watching it jerk and pump
out even more lubricant. Slowly, seductively, Bryan shook his head from side-
to-side indicating that he wasn’t about to let Owen have release just yet.
Bryan knew it was time to step up the attention he was giving Owen’s tender
nipples. He increased the pressure of his fingers on them, twisting them just
a little harder.
Owen’s mouth opened in a soundless ‘O’ as the pressure on his nipples brought
him to new levels of delight he’d never thought possible. Bryan shifted his
hands down between Owen’s legs, fondling the other teen’s heavy balls, running
his fingers over the delicate and highly sensitive scrotum. He found he was
forced to playfully slap Owen’s scrabbling hands away from his cock again.
“Not yet,” Bryan laughed playfully.
Bryan returned his attention to Owen’s neck and ears, letting his fingers
lightly trace circles along his tent mate’s tender skin. He could tell Owen
had never taken the time to seduce himself. He had never taken the time and
effort to work himself into an erotic frenzy and then go even a little
farther. Well, Owen was about to discover the pleasure he could bring himself.
He worked his fingers up behind Owen’s ears, grinning wildly as the young man
beneath him intensified his wriggling and squirming.
Finally, Bryan decided it was time to give Owen some relief. He traced his
index finger along the tender underside of Owen’s twitching cock before
wrapping both hands around the throbbing shaft and slowly stroking upwards.
Only after both his hands had passed over Owen’s flared cock head did Bryan
release his grip. He repeated the process, taking his time stroking Owen,
teasing his eager cock. When he felt the first telltale twitches that told him
Owen was past the point of no return, Bryan tightened his grip on Owen’s dick
to prevent him from blowing his load.
Owen was bucking and twitching so much he almost threw Bryan off his thighs.
Laughing, Bryan released the pressure on Owen’s straining dick and began
pumping him. Bryan barely had time to move his hand up and down twice before
Owen’s back arched and he blew his load. The thick, white ejaculate flew high
in the air before landing with audible ‘SPLATS’ all over Owen’s chest and
face. When the last spasms of his most intense orgasm ended, Owen lay limply
staring up spent at his new friend.
Bryan winked down at him and tapped his nose playfully, “Thus ends the lesson.
Learn it well.”
Over the course of the next month, Bryan and Owen developed a regular routine
for their days – they worked all day long, usually stripped to the waist, and
after dinner Bryan tried to take Owen to new masturbatory heights. By the end
of the month, both young men were tanned a deep brown. When it was time for
Bryan to board the little plane that would take him to the airport for his
flight home, Owen stood disconsolately by the side of the airstrip and sadly
watched his new playmate disappear into the sky.
Reaching the airport, Bryan found he had three hours to kill before his flight
home. Spotting a salon on the shopping concourse, Bryan killed part of his
wait by getting his haircut freshened up. Stepping from the salon, Bryan found
he still had over two hours left before it was time for his flight to be
called. He finally wandered over to the waiting area, plunked a handful of
coins into one of the television sets and bored himself with some Mexican soap
opera. When his flight was finally called, Bryan nearly leapt from the chair
in his eagerness to get on the plane.
The flight home seemed shorter than his original flight down to Mexico had
been. Bryan had barely closed his eyes for a nap when the pilot announced over
the speaker that they were about to land. Gathering his carry on luggage,
Bryan wondered if his Mom had brought his little brother with her to meet the
plane. More likely, the Squirt was down on the beach with Aaron, Bryan
thought. Coming off the plane, Bryan took his time making his way to the
Baggage Claim where he’d meet his Mom and get his bags at the same time.
Bryan had barely arrived at the Baggage Claim before hearing his Mom’s shout
of joy at seeing her son. After the obligatory maternal hugs, Bryan found
himself blushing furiously as she slathered him with compliments about his new
hairstyle – about how cool and enticing it made him look. Suddenly, he felt a
sharp jab in the ribs.
“Aren’t ya gonna say hi to your brother?”
Turning, Bryan was amazed at the person standing to his side. It was Michael
and at the same time, it wasn’t. The little brother he remembered was at least
a head shorter, still with apple cheeks and a mop of honey blonde hair. The
little brother standing and grinning next to him was a head taller, had lost
all his baby fat, and sported a pretty radical flattop haircut.
“Hiya Squirt!” Bryan laughed. He rubbed his brother’s bristly flattop and
grinned. “It’s about time you got that mop cut. The new do looks pretty good
on you.” He motioned his brother to take a step back. “Step back, Squirt and
let me get a good look at you.”
Grinning proudly, Michael stepped back, “Grew a little over the summer.”
“You sure did,” Bryan agreed. Looking at his brother, Bryan had no doubt that
Michael was going to be one killer dude. He glanced down to see if Michael was
still wearing those silly sneakers with the lights in the heels. Suddenly,
Bryan realized that Michael had started growing in more ways than was apparent
at first glance. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Michael had an erection. Bryan could see the outline of a pretty impressive
teen cock under his tight jeans. Bryan hoped his face didn’t betray his
surprise. He retrieved his bags and followed his Mom out to Short Term
Parking. On the way home, his mind was only half on the questions being
peppered at him from his Mom and brother. He was still trying to get over the
fact that his little brother was getting erections. Bryan wondered how long
that had been going on. He also found himself wondering if Michael had started
doing anything about his erections yet.
To be continued…
* * * |
My Patients and I - Part 1 - Intro | GAY, STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Circumcision | This is the start of a new series, written in the first hand. Some of the stories will be written just from the Doctor’s view; others will include the patients view. | ` My Patients and I, Part 1, My Background. `
This is the start of a new series, written in the first hand. Some of the
stories will be written just from the Doctor’s view; others will include the
patients view.
This set of stories draws from various works, including “An All-Around
Improvement,” “Reverence,” and “IRC Story.” Others come from original
inspiration and in some cases, a combination of numerous stories. I have read
so many good stories on the Archives over the years that it is impossible to
identify which parts of my stories in this series come from myself or from
other stories.
That said, I want to thank all of the authors for all of the great stories
that I have that read and enjoyed over the years, going back to the original
Archives.
This is the doctor’s introduction. He is drawn and expanded from the doctor in
“An All-Around Improvement” with a more fully developed background. There are
also departures in the doctor’s personality from that of the original.
\-------------------------------------------------------
I‘ve been a doctor for roughly 10 years. I specialize in adolescent and young
adult male medicine. In college, I chose this line of medicine because I had
an Army medical scholarship. In exchange for the scholarship, I was required
to serve four years in the Army Medical Corps upon completion of my residency.
Not surprisingly, the army required certain sub-specialties, including
urology.
My choice of medical practice had started to develop in high school and
college. It was there that I found that I was somewhat drawn to female
classmates, but I was also drawn to male classmates. I found myself more drawn
to men because I found it easier to connect with them.
I had dated a few girls throughout out high school, but nothing ever went
anywhere. On the other hand, in my senior year at high school, I ended up
going to a few drinking parties with friends and waking up in a guy’s bed the
next morning, naked. At the time, I just passed it off to adolescent antics.
In college, the antics continued, often with a lot less alcohol, though I was
still somewhat drawn to women. Overall, I ‘d have to say that I prefer the
companionship of men somewhat more then the companionship of women.
The Army really isn’t my kind of life, and I only remained for those fours
years, but there’s one thing to be said for it. If you enjoy performing
circumcisions, you get your chance to keep in practice there. There’s always
someone being posted to the tropics, or having some little problem with a
tight foreskin, and I often found it quite surprisingly easy to persuade them
that what they needed was that little bit of skin removed by my own highly
skilled hand.
There were always circumcised according to Medical Corps regulations. They
always got the best treatment. After all, if you’re going to get a reputation
for the circumcisions you perform, it ought to be a good one, and I took great
care over all of them. They all had an anesthetic injected carefully into the
skin. They all had the cut ends lined up neatly, the fraenum carefully
preserved. The fraenum is the little bridge of skin just under the opening,
the meatus as we call it. It’s quite sensitive and most guys ask to keep it.
Mostly I let them. Anyway they all healed up looking smooth and neat.
I think that’s where I developed a taste for the whole idea. Of course at
medical school they had decided that circumcision was no longer proper medical
practice (unless medically indicated - Male Genital Mutilation, some call it),
but I’ve found that the practice I got in the Army has stood me in good stead.
Upon leaving the Army, I establish a practice at a suburban medical clinic,
continuing with the specialties that I had first established while at medical
school and in residency. My predecessor had was retiring and had allowed my to
purchase his practice. Now, when they started puberty, nearly always 11 or 12,
but a few as old as 14, their pediatrician would now refer the boys to me.
About 3 months after starting my practice, a mother brought her 12 year-old
son, Tom, in. Tom’s parents had divorced about six months before, amicably,
but primary custody went to his mother. I checked the notes from his
pediatrician; his last physical had been just before the divorce. In reviewing
the notes, I found that he had been in excellent health, with no medical
problems or issues indicated.
The notes did show that the mother had wanted the boy circumcised; the father
had been opposed. She was here again to have the Tom circumcised; this time
his father was not here to oppose it. She told me that she had found him
masturbating and she wanted it stopped permanently. She was very insistent
that his foreskin be completely removed.
Now don’t misunderstand me. I don’t approve of the sort of wholesale slaughter
of the innocent that had happened in the States, but it has diminished over
the last decade. I do circumcise babies; of course, from time to time, but
only if the parents are really insistent. Since fewer of them are these days,
that’s all to the good.
Now mind you, for me, cutting a baby is OK when necessary, but the real thrill
is circumcising an adolescent, and because there are fewer babies done, it
means there are more teenagers around to play with. And that is really nice.
But I have to say that I began to feel that I was not getting all the pleasure
that I might’ve from the operation. About a month before Tom’s mother brought
him in, I read an article in an American magazine. It was about some of the
customs of the Arabs and of the slaves they took from the African tribes. Now
I don’t know how true it all was, but it was obvious that the writer was as
turned on by the idea of primitive circumcisions as I was.
It was terrific, and I began to think that perhaps I wasn’t being very
ambitious with the foreskins that came under my knife. Because of the request
from Tom’s mother that the foreskin be completely excised, and since I was I
no longer bound by Army regulations, I decided to take a different approach
when performing circumcisions.
Part of the interest is in persuading their parents.
I tell them how much cleaner, and how much better the penis looks. I warn the
about dirt behind tight foreskins and penile cancer. I talk about irritations
and ulcers and all the other “medical” reasons. But what I don’t say is that
they are all so much nonsense. Doctors, especially me, we circumcise because
we enjoy it.
And so, since I left the Army, I have had the privilege and pleasure of taking
my scalpel to some thirty-five or forty healthy teenagers’ foreskins. Now
though, they only got the anesthetic when the parents insist. After discussing
the dangers of anesthetics, few did.
The teenagers went under my scalpel for several reasons: Some; because the
parents agreed with the health reasons I presented; some because they had been
caught masturbating by their mothers; some because their parents caught them
masturbating, in violation of their religious values; and finally, some for
the purported aesthetics.
I most enjoyed circumcising 15, 16, and 17 year-olds. They’re minors, so the
fate of their foreskins is not theirs to control, but the parents. They’re
already masturbating, many for several years, enjoying the intense pleasure
that masturbating gave them as the foreskin glides smoothly over the glans.
Now, my scalpel would take that from them, and they knew that the incredible
feeling it gave them would never be quite the same again. The best of it was
that, in some way, I was taking part of their manhood, and both the boy and I
knew it.
After the parents sign the consent forms, I often have them sit across from
the exam/procedure table. I then have the young man undress completely, next
to the table facing their parents. This just adds to the indignity of the
whole process. For many, it was the first time that they have been naked in
front of their mother since childhood.
Once naked, I have them lie down on the exam table with their feet in the
stirrups. I strap their feet in, then, spread the stirrups as wide as I can
without causing pain.
Once the boy way ready, I would perform the operation based on the parents’ or
the patient’s request. The parents, particularly if it was just the boy’s
mother, would often request that the circumcision be high and tight, so I
usually made sure that the circumcisions were always tight enough that even
when completely flaccid, the shaft skin would be tight. Of course, after they
had healed, they would find it difficult to masturbate; but then, hasn’t that
always been the point - to prevent boys from masturbating?
\--------------------------------------------------------
Now that you’ve met me, I’ll follow-up with the different procedures that I
provided to my patient at the patient’s request of the of the patient’s
parents.
So, follow along and enjoy my exploits.
* * * |
The Boys Club Part 2 | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | After 15 year old Jeremy gets nutted in front of the Boys Club members, Barry Winston brings on 'act 2' which is two kids 8 and 10 to be played with naked by the crowd and then nutted (partially) | The Boys Club:
Part 2
Meanwhile, Barry Winston had put his clothes back on and was now preparing to
announce the next act.
“Ok guys. That was a great performance from Jeremy I think, and real brave of
him to give us his balls. Now we’ve got another real treat for ya, not that
Jeremy wasn’t a real treat himself, right guys, especially for Jack and
Mike?”, to which he was greeted by another round of scattered applause,
laughter, and hollered confirmations.
“Next up we’ve got two little guys who are half brothers with the same mom but
different fathers. In fact they’ve never met their fathers and don’t even know
who their fathers are. Neither does their mom, apparently, or doesn’t really
remember which of her lovers might have gotten her pregnant with them. Their
names are Jasper and Calvin, and they’re 10 and 8 years old respectively.” A
collective gasp and some groans emerged from the audience at this
announcement.
“Yeah, I know” Barry said, “That’s going a little too far on the youth side of
things for some of you so if you’d like to sit this one out at the bar, you
can be my guest. But these kids are just about the cutest little guys you’re
ever going to see, and they’re both completely eager and willing to please
with whatever you want to do. Just about anything goes with these kids. Come
on out here guys”, Barry called out toward the dressing room into which Jeremy
had departed.
The two boys bounded out skipping and jumping toward the ring and bounded up
the stairs. Little Calvin stumbled a bit on his way up and got a hand from one
of the men nearest him. He giggled a bit as he recovered his footing and
continued up the stairs that were just a little big for him, which is why he’d
stumbled. Jasper was already standing next to Barry by the time Calvin arrived
skipping along like a little puppy dog, and grabbed his brother’s hand.
“Ok, now, let me tell you about these kids. Jasper, although he’s only ten, is
already in the middle of his puberty. As you know, little kids these days
start to mature sexually much sooner than we did. Most of you didn’t enter
puberty until you were eleven or twelve, but Jasper’s is already well under
way. This is also partly because their mom, who is a wonderful mother who
loves them both dearly and takes very good care of them both, decided that
they should both be completely sexualized as early as possible – as soon as
they were ready, in other words. Calvin is still pre-pubescent, of course, but
he’s had lots of sexual experiences all the same and seems to love it almost
as much as Jasper does. Their mom feels its better in the long run if they are
exposed early on, as it were, to what goes on in the world rather than
discovering it the hard way and developing negative attitudes that might scar
them for the rest of their lives. As it is, they’ve both been, shall we say,
thoroughly molested by several of their mom’s current lovers, which is one of
the sources of income that allow all three members of the family to live quite
comfortably. Both their mom and I see to it that the boys are protected from
severe violence or injury, but aside from that, they’ve been put through their
paces, so to speak, many times in many different ways.”
“So my point is”, Barry continued, “you need not feel guilty or sorry for them
when you see what we’ve got in store for them and for you, because they’ve
been there before and they’ve developed a taste for it. They know and
understand all about adult sexual behaviors, having watched their mother doing
it and also having many of the same things done to them.”
“So what we’re going to do right off, is get them both out of their clothes.
I’ll take it slow so you can appreciate them for a bit in various stages of
undress, and then I’ll hand them both around naked for you guys to play with
as you see fit. As I said, everything goes except for physical pain and
injury, which they’ve never experienced and definitely do not expect from any
of you, so keep that in mind. I have something in mind for a bit later as you
know, but you’ll have to leave that to me. You can play with their bodies as
much as you like, and touch and fondle their little genitals, right guys?” he
said to the boys, who just looked up at him and nodded vigorously. “You can
kiss and hug them too. Go ahead and French kiss them, they love it. They like
you to lick their teeth and suck on their tongues and stuff like that. They
take it as affection and I’m sure you’ll give it in that spirit as well. Stick
your fingers in their little butt holes too if you like, but be careful not to
hurt them. They know how to open themselves to you, but no cocks please, just
fingers and thumbs and such, and give them a little time to get used to you.
It’s not like they can open themselves up completely at the drop of a hat.
You’ve got to work on them for a bit and get them aroused for that to happen.
Ok? Any questions?”
“How about tickling, is tickling off limits, or is that Ok?”, one of the men
asked.
“What do you say guys?”, Barry said to the boys. “Do you like to be tickled,
or should we not do that to you?” Jasper answered for both kids, “Calvin likes
it more than me, but I’m Ok too, if you don’t do it to me too hard or too
long. I might get sick if you do it too long.”
“Ok guys, you heard the boy, you’ve got your marching orders”, Barry said.
“So, let’s get your clothes off, Ok? You ready to get naked for us?” Neither
boy said anything, but just smiled and Calvin giggled a bit. He was a giggler
obviously. They didn’t think any reply was necessary as they assumed it was
going to happen whether they said anything or not, and it was just Barry’s way
of announcing his intentions.
Barry signaled to Carlos who brought a small cot on stage that was made up as
a bed for the boys to sit on while Barry undressed them. Calvin immediately
sat on it and began swinging his legs back and forth under the cot. Jasper
remained standing as he assumed he’d be the first to go. He looked up at Barry
as Barry began unbuttoning the kid’s shirt. He wasn’t wearing any undershirt,
so as soon as his shirt was off and on the bed he was bare chested. He had a
nicely developing torso, not skinny at all but not fat in any way either,
except maybe for a small amount of soft baby fat here and there. He was
definitely all boy and was beginning to have well defined musculature. His
shoulders were still fairly narrow and his rib cage could be seen clearly
under his skin. He had nice pert little nipples that were a bit larger and
darker than one might expect for a boy his age. Barry wasted no time, though,
starting in on the kid’s jeans. He unfastened his belt but didn’t bother
removing it from the loops. Jasper just looked down and watched himself being
stripped. He kind of jutted his pelvis forward so Barry could reach the top
button more easily. He clearly enjoyed this. He liked the idea of this nice
man that he knew so well undressing him in front of all these strangers. He
didn’t know why he liked it, but he did. Calvin, everyone noticed, was
watching all of this now, kind of wide eyed, but with his thumb in his mouth.
Barry noticed this as well, and told everyone that Calvin still liked to suck
his thumb and nobody tries to stop him; that it helps him calm himself and
also helps him get himself sexually aroused when he thinks that’s what’s
called for as it is in this kind of situation.
Barry had Jasper’s pants unfastened and his zipper pulled down. He stepped
around behind the boy and spread the flies apart and pulled the kid’s pants
down a bit so everyone could see his underpants. They were just plain white
underpants though so he didn’t leave him that way for long. Barry had the boy
sit on the bed at this point so he could take off his shoes and socks. After
he got the kid’s shoes off, he lifted one of his little feet to his face and
sniffed. “Smells nice, Jasper. I like the smell of your feet.” he said. “But
you know that of course,” he added, and the boy smiled and giggled at that.
“Here guys, Barry said, tossing the socks out to the crowd. Get a whiff of
that. That’s what a boy’s feet are supposed to smell like.” The men passed the
socks around sniffing them appreciatively and nodding at one another at the
sweet but funky odor of a ten year old’s feet.
Barry took Jasper’s hand and stood him back on his bare feet and crouched down
behind him to draw his pants down to his ankles. The kid stepped out of them
one foot at a time as Jeremy had done previously. Now he was just in his
underpants. The little double U shape of his sex could be clearly seen in the
crotch of the white cotton briefs. Barry led the boy by the hand out onto the
mat and around the ring so the audience could see him in this state and in
motion. His beautifully shaped legs were completely hairless and his knees
especially were perfectly formed. He moved with tremendous youthful grace as
he walked around the mat holding Barry’s hand.
Barry asked him to turn around to face him and spread his legs a bit and bend
down slightly so everyone could see the little bulge of his testicles pushing
down against the cloth of his briefs. “How about that, guys?” Barry asked. “Is
that nice or what?” The men murmured their approval. “Yeah, he’s a cute little
fucker, Barry”, one of them said.
Barry swooped the boy up under his arms and placed him back near the bed. He
told Jasper to pull his underpants down and take them off so everyone could
see him naked, which he promptly did. He stood there looking up at Barry and
waiting for further instructions. His penis was nicely sized in proportion to
his body, and he had a nice little bush of curly pubic hair starting to grow
around it. The hair on both his head and in his groin was light brown in
color, although his head hair was softer looking and had streaks of gold
running through it. He wasn’t erect at all yet and his penis dangled
tantalizingly down in front of his testicles.
“Ok Jasper, scoot back out there and do a little turn with your hands over
your head, yeah like that. Spread your legs a bit and do that little bend over
thing like you did with your shorts on. Right. Yeah, good, put your hands on
your knees just like that. Move around a bit so everyone can see your nuts
waggle and give everyone a good look at your anus. Thatta boy. Oh look! He’s
going hard now. Wow! Good boy, what turned you on Jasper?” Barry asked him.
“I donno,” Jasper said. “Everybody’s lookin’ at me, I guess. Feels weird.”
“So, what do you think guys? Just look at that little hard-on. Ever seen
anything sexier that that?” Murmurs of approval and assent emerged again from
the audience, but everyone was too rapt to comment loudly.
“Ok Jasper, come on back here and sit on the bed while I get your little
brother undressed,” Barry instructed.
Jasper sat naked and erect on the bed beside his brother while Barry stripped
the little kid. He moved Calvin to his lap straddling his right leg. Barry was
holding him with his hand practically covering the kid’s entire chest.
“Ok, I think we’ll go with the pants first this time,” Barry said. “Jasper,
why don’t you take his shoes off for us, Ok?” Jasper jumped down from the bed
and began untying Calvin’s shoes. He pulled them off one at a time and then
pulled off his socks as well. Calvin flexed his bare toes and wriggled them
around, enjoying the feel of the cool air on his little feet.
“Toss the socks and shoes!” somebody yelled from the audience. Jasper gave one
shoe an overhead toss, which was a little weak – a little leaguer he was not –
and the other he tossed out to the crowd underhand. “You gotta give ‘em back
after,” he said to the men. “Here, here’s his socks too.” He said this after
instinctively sniffing them himself, and then dropping them into the crowd,
one of them to one side of the ring and one on the other. The men passed
around the little shoes and socks taking in their light sweet body scent, and
nodding appreciatively at one another as they had with Jasper’s.
Meanwhile, Barry had pulled Calvin’s jeans down to his ankles and left them
there for a moment. “Ok, Calvin, let’s play a little game. Let’s see if you
can kick off your pants without anybody helping you. Just try to wriggle out
of them with just your feet and by kicking. I’m gonna keep holding you tight
so you can’t reach them. Ok? You think you can do it?”
Calvin didn’t say anything but he instantly responded to the challenge,
giggling like crazy, of course. First he tried just kicking them of by
swinging his feet together and tossing them in the air in front of Barry’s
leg. That didn’t work, so he tried rubbing them back and forth against his
ankles with each foot. That started to make a little more progress. He had one
leg of his jeans down over his left foot at least. He tried to reach forward
to push them off, but Barry wouldn’t let him. Everybody was laughing now at
the kid’s happy frustration. They were also, of course, very much enjoying the
sight of his bare legs flying around and the effect of all this movement on
the little lump in the crotch of his undies.
Finally the left leg of his pants dropped off and he only had the right leg to
go. He flipped that leg over and over trying to get the damn pants to fly off.
He had a look of determination on his face, pursing his lips and concentrating
on his efforts. Barry just continued to hold him and enjoy the feel of his
little body bouncing around on his leg. Calvin had done stuff like this
before, so he knew what that ‘thing’ was that was poking him in his left
thigh. It was Mr. Winston’s ‘weanie’. It felt good because he was pretty sure
it was all this squirming around that was causing it.
“You give up?” Barry said, still laughing at the boy. “You want some help
now?”
“No!” Calvin hollered. “I wanna do it myself!” He was a stubborn little
fucker. His brother was just sitting there watching all this with his hands in
his lap absently fiddling with his prick and pinching his balls once and
awhile. He liked the feel of his scrotum and moving his nuts around inside it.
“Why don’t you try pushing on your pants with your left foot?” Barry
suggested. Calvin tried this and the pants slipped down off his leg inside out
with just the cuff now clinging to his foot. Now he was flipping the pants
more frantically trying to get them finally to drop off. He seemed to want to
do it that way instead of just pushing them off with his other foot. He
thought of that as ‘cheating’ somehow. Finally the pants went flying across
the ring and everybody clapped and hollered their approval and appreciation.
Jasper was clapping and smiling at his little brother ear to ear. He gave him
a little shove on the shoulder to show his admiration. Calvin was just
giggling and rolling back and forth on Barry’s leg with a big grin on his
face. Barry gave him a little kiss on the cheek and said, “Good job, dude! Way
to go!” Calvin was reveling in the approval and friendliness everybody was
showing him. He could tell they all liked him, so he liked them back. He would
do anything for Barry and his friends at this point, and for his big brother,
of course, whom he loved more than his life….well, as much as his mom anyway.
Barry said, “Well now that’s over, let’s get a good look at you.” He placed
the kid out at the end of his leg with his knee in the boy’s crotch, pushing
his little genital package out more prominently than before. He bounced the
kid up and down on his knee, trying to stimulate him a little bit. The kid
loved it, being bounced up and down like that, giggling continuously.
“So Calvin,” Barry said, “you see your brother’s penis? Like it was a few
minutes ago, sticking up straight? Can you do that to yours?”
“I don’t know, how’d he do it?” Calvin asked.
“I don’t know either,” Barry replied. “Why don’t you ask your brother?”
“How’d you do it?” Calvin asked again, this time looking at Jasper.
“It just happens,” Jasper says. “It happens when you’re feeling fucky-like,
you know? Like when you’re fooling around in the bath tub and stuff.”
“Yeah, I know that!” Calvin said. “But how’d you do it right now?”
“I don’t know,” Jasper replied. “You’re on your own.”
“Well, don’t worry about it Calvin,” Barry said, gently. “It doesn’t really
matter. You look fine either way. Let’s just take down your underpants and see
what your penis looks like the way it is, Ok?” Once again, Calvin didn’t say
anything because he didn’t think it was really a question.
“Why don’t you do it to yourself?” Barry said.
“Like I did my pants!?” Calvin asked, worried. “I don’t think I can.”
“No, dipshit,” Barry said, laughing. “Just jump down off my knee and pull ‘em
down the regular way. That’s right. Ohhh, nice! Look at that guys. My, my. How
often do you get to see that: an eight year old boy stark naked, and you don’t
even have to avert your eyes. Wow! So cool.”
Calvin smiled and put his fists on his hips and just showed himself off. Barry
picked him up again and turned him around and so he was facing Barry and put
him back on his knee. He bounced the kid up and down again so everybody could
see his butt bouncing and jouncing and jiggling. Then he lifted him up by his
hips and hoisted him up with his legs scrambling in the air so everybody could
see his ass and his groin from the rear with his little balls dangling and his
little cock starting to stick out like his brother’s. Jasper’s was half hard
again, not straight up like most 10 year olds when fully erect, but sticking
out 90 degrees at least.
“I see you figured out how to get your weenie to stiffen up like we like it.”
Barry said.
“Yeah, but I don’t know what I did,” Calvin replied. “Sure feels good though.”
“Ok, well I think I’ve had enough fun with you guys, I think we should pass
you around to the others out in the audience, you up for that?” Barry asked
the boys.
“Yea!” Calvin exclaimed, but Jasper just smiled somewhat shyly. He had a bit
better idea than his little brother what was in store and he wasn’t really
sure he was “up for it”, but he knew it was going to happen, like it or not,
so he might as well get ready for it.
Barry scooped up both of the naked boys, one in each arm and carried them to
the edge of the ring. He handed Jasper down to his right to one of the guys on
that side of the ring, who reached up and took him under his arms and sat him
on his lap. Barry then walked to the other side of the ring and, first lifting
Calvin into a cradle position, unceremoniously tossed him down into the
waiting arms of the crowd, causing Calvin to squeal first in fright and then
in delight as he was caught firmly and carefully by the men.
They immediately started a tug of war with Calvin, one guy pulling on the
boy’s ankles and the other by the arms, gently of course, yelling, “he’s mine!
I caught him first.” And the other one yelling, “Bullshit, he’s mine, dammit,
I want him first.” They were both laughing their heads off and Calvin was
giggling a mile a minute. Suddenly another guy reached around the boy’s middle
and snatched him away from both of the other two guys and took off with him
swinging him effortlessly up into a piggy back ride as if he were a lively
sack of potatoes. Calvin had both his hands under the man’s chin with his
stiff little dick pressed against the back of his neck, and was having the
time of his life.
Jasper meanwhile was just sitting impassively on the guy’s lap who had taken
him from Barry, and was gazing around at the other men. He noticed a strange,
but surprisingly pleasant smell, which he sort of intuitively understood to be
that of a group of grown men putting out a lot of energy, sexual energy. He
felt ‘flattered’ by that, even though he’d only ever heard his mom say that
about herself, and wasn’t too sure what it really meant.
Anyway, he felt pretty good and very safe, unlike some of the times when his
mom was alone with a guy who looked and acted rough and treated him roughly as
well. These guys seemed really nice and Mr. Winston would be sure to keep him
safe.
As if on cue Barry said to one and all, “Ok now, no hurting the kids. Don’t be
making them cry anyway. If I hear crying from them and find out you’ve injured
or scared one of them half to death, you’re banned from the club for two
months, Capische?” He wanted to make sure the guys would at least try to keep
their ardor in check, but he didn’t want to spoil their fun either. They were
good paying customers after all and these were boy prostitutes, pure and
simple, so what did they, or their mother, expect?
The man who had Calvin on his back was marching him around the room. He’d
pushed the kid backward so that he was hanging upside down with arms dangling
down and his little legs hooked over the man’s shoulders. Guys were coming up
to him and playing with his body, sometimes putting their mouths on his tummy
and making farting noises into his belly button (causing giggles all around),
or kissing him upside down on his forehead, his eyes, his mouth, his little
nose. And everyone was stroking his soft skin and enjoying the feel of his
ribs and rubbing up and down his sides with their fingers. They didn’t leave
his genitals alone either. They reached up and cupped his little balls and
tweaked his cute little dick, causing it to bounce and flutter.
On the other side of the room, the men were taking turns holding Jasper on
their laps. He’d lay for a minute on one guy’s shoulder and breath sighingly
into the man’s neck and kiss the man on his cheek. The man would run his hands
up along the Jasper’s inner thighs right up to his balls, and then fondle him
there feeling them give way under his fingers rolling them around loosely in
their little skin sack. Then they’d masturbate the kid a bit, rubbing a thumb
over his frenulum. He enjoyed their touches. Their hands were warm and mostly
dry. He liked the smell of them. He landed in one guy’s lap who was rather
stout, like Santa Claus. This man hugged him tightly against his ample belly
and rubbed his nose against Jasper’s. Then he opened his mouth and kissed him.
“Open your mouth now,” the man said to the boy, softly. Jasper stared into the
man’s eyes for a second or two unsure if he should comply. Then he opened his
mouth like at the dentist, and the man kissed him again. His rough tongue went
inside the boy’s mouth and started to probe around inside along his teeth and
tongue.
The man sucked and sipped the boy’s saliva and tasted some of everything he
could reach in there. Then he sucked on the boy’s nose and stuck the tip of
his tongue into one of his nostrils, pretty far up too. Jasper blanched at
that and pulled his head back. “What’s wrong, you don’t like that?” The man
asked.
“You surprised me,” Jasper said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Can I do it again?” The man asked.
“I suppose so,” Jasper replied. He wasn’t sure why not. If the man already had
his tongue in his mouth, why not his nose, if that’s what he wanted to do.
The man’s tongue went back into Jasper’s nose and poked around a bit, trying
to feel if there was anything in there he could eat. There wasn’t, but it
tasted good in there anyway. Jasper too, was fascinated by the smell of the
man’s saliva shoved right up into his nose. He sniffed at it when the tongue
was removed and found that he liked that smell too, so he kissed the man back
and smiled at him. He didn’t stick his tongue in the man’s nose though. That
was too much, even for Jasper.
The next guy to take Jasper into his embraces, started to lick him all over.
The first place he licked was the boy’s armpits, tickling him and making him
squirm. He then licked the boy’s belly button and then lower and lower until
he was licking the kid’s penis and sucking on it. He sucked the entire genital
package into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the boy’s cock and balls.
Jasper had a look of surprise mixed with pleasure at this sensation. Nobody
had ever done that to him before. It felt amazing.
The man then flipped the boy around and had him stand on his knees. He asked
one of the other guys to hold the boy steady so he could part the kid’s ass
cheeks and get at his little pucker hole. He started licking and sucking all
around that too. He started under the perineum and worked his rough sucking
tongue up toward the boy’s anus and beyond. Then back down to his target and
narrowed his tongue to just a hard tip and drove it inside as far as it would
go. Jasper gasped as that too was a new sensation for him. Wow! He thought to
himself. That is awesome feeling. “Hooo, do that some more!” he exclaimed out
loud, making all the others nearby laugh and chuckle. The man who was
steadying him on the other man’s knees started to hug the boy and rub all up
and down his soft silky skinned back, feeling his ribs and his backbone. He
pulled the boy’s head back a bit and gazed into his eyes. Jasper gazed right
back with a little enigmatic smile, a Mona Lisa smile, I guess you’d call it.
The smile said, ‘I know you like me and maybe I could like you too, but you’ve
got to earn my love, and you haven’t done that yet.’
Nevertheless, the man kissed the boy softly on his cheeks and his ears, and
nibbled lightly on his ear lobes. He whispered into his ear, “you’re so
beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You drive us all
crazy!” This was said in a low, slow whisper, barely audible to anyone but
Jasper himself. It made Jasper tingle all over. Not just he words, but the
feel of the low adult voice in his ear and soft warm breath that delivered the
words, nice words.
About this time, the whispering man took Jasper away from his ass licker and
held him against his stomach with the boy’s legs wrapped around his middle. He
walked him around the room showing him off as though he was his possession
alone and he was proud of it. He showed the boy to each man in turn and let
them caress and kiss him, and tousle his soft golden brown hair. Many of them
pinched the boy’s nipples and fingered his ass, rubbing their thumbs along the
hole and pressing in a little way. “That feels good!” Jasper said in response
to these ministrations.
“Would you like me to put my finger in all the way?” The man holding him
asked? “Sure, Jasper replied.” He’d had fingers in his ass before, and few
dicks as well. He liked it. A lot!
The man held Jasper under his butt with one arm and after wetting his middle
finger thoroughly, stuck it up into Jasper’s ass as far as it would go.
“Ahhh!” Jasper exclaimed. “That’s weird. Keep doing that!” He was smiling and
looking into the man’s face. He was almost cross-eyed looking at him, he was
so close. He was smiling and looking right into the man’s eyes while he was
being finger fucked. This was almost too much fun. He wished he could be alone
with just one of these guys. He thought the Santa Claus guy was the best one
with his soft white beard and hair. That would be really nice. To be fucked by
Santa Claus. What could be better than that?”
The last guy to get his hands on Jasper, sat himself down and put Jasper down
on the ground on his bare feet in front of him. “I want you to suck my cock,
kid” He said. “Have you done that before?”
“I did it once.” Jasper replied. He’d done it many more times as well, but he
thought it best not to brag. He was smart enough to know that these guys liked
his innocence as much as anything else. He didn’t want to be ‘used
merchandise’. He’d learned that trick from his Mother.
The man quickly opened his own trousers and pulled out his penis and
testicles. Jasper stared at for a second, wondering if he could get most of it
in his mouth. It was a pretty big one. Bigger than Mr. Winston’s anyway, and
that was saying something. He was also suddenly drawn to the smell of it. He’d
been noticing all the new smells the whole time he was being felt and fondled
by these men, but this was the strongest smell yet. He leaned in and sniffed
at the man’s sex organ, openly sniffed at it. Then he licked it to get it wet
and sniffed again. It was a very sweet but acrid smell, like dirty gym socks,
but ‘wetter’ somehow, and even more funky smelling. It was attractive and
repulsive at the same time. He wondered how often the man washed himself, or
was this just his natural odor all the time? Barry had told Jasper about
pheromones, and that they were smells associated with sweat and such that
attracted people sexually. Jasper thought that must be why he liked to keep
sticking his nose back there and sniffing.
Finally though, he decided he’d better get on with the blow job, so he did. He
grabbed the man’s cock in his fist and dove under it with his mouth to suck on
the big adult balls. Those smelled even worse (or better, whatever). He licked
and sucked on those with a vengeance. “Hey slow down, kid,” the man exclaimed.
“I ain’t going anywhere. You can chow down on those all day if you want.”
Jasper did slow down but he kept on with the balls for awhile. He loved the
texture of them, the wrinkly sac and the hairs growing out of them. He nipped
at the loose skin of them and sucked them one by one into his mouth. Then he
went to work on the cock, sucking on the head of it and opening the slit
expertly with his tongue, sticking it down inside a little way.
The man had his head back and was groaning audibly. “Oh, my God in heaven!
Where the fuck did Barry find you guys? Ohhh, shit! That feels good. Man, oh,
man. Bite me kid. That’s right. Use your teeth, not too hard though, but bite
on it, let me feel your teeth on it and your breath. Ohhh that’s sooo good.
Yeah, like that. Now just suck on it, I think I’m gonna cum. You want it in
your mouth, or on your face. Either way you’re gonna get a hot load any
second.
“On my face please,” Jasper said. “I don’t know if I like the taste. I’ll
taste some after, Ok?”
“Ok, kid whatever you say. Ok, Ok, Ok! It’s all good. This fuckin’ place! It’s
priceless. I cannot believe you kids. God you’re good. God, God, Godddd!! Oh,
God, Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck, I’m gonna cummmm. Ooo!, Ooo!, OOOOO! Owww. Ho….ho…ho.”
The man moaned and gasped as his semen shot out again and again, messing
Jasper’s face and his hair. Jasper smiled and winced and chuckled and moved
his head back and forth to be sure the warm stinky scum covered him good. He
had it dripping from his eyes, and down his little button nose, down into his
mouth. Good as his word, he stuck his tongue out and licked up the stuff that
dribbled into his mouth. He seemed to like the taste, or he was a good actor,
because he kept smiling and licked all around his mouth with his tongue as
though he’d messed himself with an ice cream cone or something.
When the orgasm was finally finished, the man scooped Jasper up and marched
him around the room showing everybody how sexy he looked with sperm plastered
all over his little face and dripping down his chin onto his chest and running
down toward his belly. Everybody examined him and tickled him to make him
smile more. They all wanted to take pictures of this erotic sight, but they
new it was against the rules. They also knew the whole thing was on film and
would be distributed to every member on copy protected DVD’s.
Barry decided that the physical molestation phase was over for now, so he went
down the stairs to retrieve the kids and take them back to the stage. He found
Jasper in the same guy’s arms who’d blown off in the kid’s face, and collected
him, trying to avoid getting the guys fucking semen all over his new shirt. He
found Calvin impaled on another guy’s cock, wincing and whimpering but not yet
crying. “Careful Dan, you know what I said about crying. If this kid starts
screaming and crying, you’re out of here, and you’d better take a long
vacation somewhere; you’re not coming back here for awhile.”
Dan was gasping and thrusting, trying to be as gentle as he could while
fucking an eight year old boy. The kid was letting it happen, but he didn’t
like it much. It hurt like hell. He liked the man though because he’d been
really nice to him before he started the fucking, and he’d told the man it was
Ok, that he’d had one in there before, “But don’t take too long ‘cause I get
sore,” Calvin had said to him. He was about at the limit of his tolerance, and
Barry knew it. “Get it done, Dan or get off him!” He yelled.
“I’m almost there, dammit!” Dan yelled back. “And you’re not helping!”
Suddenly he yelled. “Ohhh…..Hoo…..I’m there!....hang on…. Yeah!... ohhhh….
fuck…. uummm… Ahh!...Yeah!” Dan exclaimed as his orgasm peaked. He thrust once
more and just held the kid tight against his groin with his cock up inside the
boy as far as it would go, luxuriating in the terrible trembling sensation
burning through his entire body as his sexual fluids burst from his prostate
and into the boy’s body.
Calvin was on the verge of tears now. This was a lot to ask of a boy his age.
He didn’t really have quite enough sex need at his age to overcome the pain he
was suffering. He was whimpering and trying to be brave and not cry out, but
it was taking so long! Was he done yet? Please make him be done, he thought.
I’ll be Ok, if he takes it out now. “Please take it out!” he said it aloud
that time. And the man, though he would have liked to have kept it in for a
few more seconds, slowly but promptly withdrew his engorged penis from the
boy, making a ‘plop’ sound when it exited the kid’s ass. He didn’t want the
kid to develop an aversion to being fucked. He was such a good little fuck,
and he hoped he’d be able to have several more fucks with the kid, before he
grew much older than he was now.
“Ok, you done now asshole?” Barry said, but with a slight smile on his face.
“You really like to push the envelope don’t you, Dan. Look at the poor kid,
he’s got tears rolling down his face. Poor thing. You Ok, Calvin buddy, did
that hurt too much?” Calvin was nodding that he was Ok now that the man’s
giant cock was out of his ass. He was rubbing at the tears with his fist and
kind of pouting as Barry lifted him out of the man’s arms to take him back up
to the stage. He gave the boy a nice warm hug and told him it would be
alright, the fucking was over for now.
He had both the boys in tow now and he bounded back up the stairs to the ring.
He put Calvin on the bed and told him to rest there and try to calm down. Then
he turned his attentions to Jasper and told everyone he needed to wash the
boys face and hair, that he was going to the showers with him and he’d be
right back as soon as the kid was cleaned up a bit.
Some of the men took this as a smoke break and others started up side
conversations exclaiming over the beauty of the boys and their incredible
resilience in the face of all this gang banging and sexual manipulation. Some
wondered what all the fuss was about if kids could be trained to like sex as
much as these two did. Maybe the priests were doing a good thing, not a bad
thing, to be introducing those choir boys to the ‘sins of the flesh’.
Barry returned shortly and told the crowd that Jasper was still in the showers
drying himself off and that he’d be back out in a minute. Calvin was lying on
his side resting as he’d been told. He kind of wanted to take a little nap
right now but he didn’t think he was going to get to. He had his arms between
his legs and his knees bent in a half fetal position. “You Ok, kiddo? You
feelin’ a little better now?” Barry asked him. Calvin nodded and gave out with
a little smile that said he was Ok, just a bit tired.
“So, now we get to the good stuff,” Barry said. “As soon as Jasper gets back
out here, we’re going to provide some lunch, so to speak, for two of you lucky
winners. We went with the highest bid this time, so while we’re waiting for
Jasper to return, let’s take a look at the envelopes and see who bought the
goods, as it were. Ok, Carlos tells me the high bid is Dan, you sonofabitch!
You knew you were fucking your prize didn’t you? How about that. Let’s give
Dan a nice big round of congratulations!” The group whooped and hollered and
clapped for Dan, covering their disappointment at not winning themselves, much
like the Academy Awards.
“Ok, according to Carlos, we’ve also got a high bid from Roger there, you old
coot!” Indicating the guy with the Santa Claus beard. “You’re a dirty old man
Rog, no doubt about it.” Roger laughed and clapped for himself. He didn’t care
what Barry called him. The others smiled as well, for his good fortune, or
maybe for having a big enough fortune to be able to waste it on such a weird
luxury.
“Ok, I guess Dan get’s Jasper’s, and Roger gets Calvin’s. That Ok with you
guys? Or do you want it the other way around.” They both said they were good
with the arrangement, although what the ‘arrangement’ would be exactly, they
were yet to find out.
“Ok, here’s Jasper back with us. Come on up here Dude.” Barry, reached down
from the back side of the ring opposite the stairs and hauled him up with help
from one of the guys.
“So, you guys know about those little bumps below your weanies, right?” he
asked the boys. “Your mom told you what those were for, right?” They both
nodded, although Calvin seemed a bit unsure of his knowledge. “Ok,” Barry
continued, “so those are your testicles and they’re what makes your ‘seeds’
for making a new baby when you grow up some more. Yours can make baby’s now
Jasper, but Calvin’s are still too young.”
“Why does Jasper get to and I don’t” Calvin complained. Everybody laughed at
that.
“Well, Calvin it’s not a matter of having permission or anything, it’s just
that your body hasn’t developed yet as much as Jasper’s. His testicles are
producing sperm, which are the little seeds I was talking about. But your
testicles haven’t started to produce any of those yet.”
“What do they look like, Jasper,” Calvin asked. “I wanna see them.”
“You can’t see them, dipwad,” Jasper replied. “They’re too small. You have to
use a microscope. All you can see is the white milky stuff. They swim around
in there.”
“Oh, that stuff that squirts sometimes when we’re fooling around?” Calvin
asked? “Yeah, that’s it,” Jasper replied, kindly. “That’s called ‘semen’, and
when you go to make a baby you gotta squirt it into a girl’s body through the
hole in her where your dick is.”
“Yeah, like mom’s” Calvin said. “I seen hers when she’s fucking those guys.
That’s cool. Do they squirt their stuff in her? How come she doesn’t have more
babies?”
“She makes ‘em wear a balloon thing over their dicks so the stuff can’t get
inside her to start a baby. She doesn’t want any more babies. She’s got us,
and that’s enough,” Jasper said. Calvin liked the sound of that. He also liked
that squirting the ‘stuff’ didn’t always mean you’d end up making a baby. He
didn’t care for babies all that much. They were Ok, but they smelled bad and
cried too much for his taste. He lacked any perspective that he was little
more than a baby himself, or had been one just a few short years ago. As far
as he was concerned he was middle aged relative to the babies he knew anything
about.
“Ok, so you guys get the picture, right? What your balls are all about? Well,
the thing is….. your mom and I have agreed that it would be really nice for me
and all our friends here if you’d let us have one of those, just one though,
because you need to keep one for yourself to make babies with when you grow
up.”
Jasper looked confused. Calvin didn’t seem to care on way or another. Whatever
was whatever, as far as he was concerned. Jasper wrinkled his brow and asked
Barry what did he mean by ‘taking one’. How could he do that if they were
inside him? They were inside his scrotum (although he called it his ‘ball
bag’). Barry replied that it was pretty easy to open his ball bag and take one
of them out. They were right there near the surface and it wouldn’t hurt much
at all.
“You saw how Calvin handled getting fucked right?” he asked Jasper, trying to
imply that it wouldn’t hurt any more than that and also that if his little
brother could take it, he could take it too. Jasper still wasn’t too sure
about this. “I don’t want to have just one. I like to have two like all the
other guys,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” Barry replied. “But you only need one to grow into a man and
make babies. That’s all just the same with one as with two. You only have two
for backup. It’s not like having one eye, where you can’t see in 3d without
the other one. It’s like kidneys which anybody can give somebody else one of
who needs it without any danger to their health at all.” Barry kept right on
talking, never giving the kid a chance to come up with more objections. He
said, “Hey Ralph! You got only one right? You had the other one removed in
that cancer operation, right? Come on Ralph, come on up here and show Jasper
what it looks like to have one testicle, alright?”
Ralph shrugged his shoulders, and climbed up the stairs. “Anything for the
cause,” he said along the way. He was also kind of looking forward to showing
the kid his genitals with his single testicle and having the boy staring at it
and maybe feeling him up a little bit. He was sorry to have lost his left one,
but not too sorry, after all this time. It felt kind of hot to have only the
one. And his wife seemed to love it, for some reason. Sooo exotic!
Ralph, stood before Jasper and dropped his pants. He stepped out of them and
stood in just his underwear and shoes below his waist. He then hooked his
briefs down and stepped out of those as well. He leaned down and lifted up his
penis and held it up out of the way of his balls, his ball that is. “See
there,” Barry said. “Looks fine, right?”
“I guess so,” Jasper said tentively.
“Hey let us have a look,” one of the other guys yelled. They were quick on
their feet and knew what it would take to help Jasper make up his mind. Ralph
turned around and started walking around the ring naked below the waist so
everybody could see what a guy looked like who had only one testicle, not two.
“Oh, wow! That looks hot,” one of the guys said. “You look kind of lopsided
but it’s really cool. How does it feel to have just one?”
“It feels fine,” Ralph replied. “I like it this way now. Less stuff to get
caught in your underwear on a hot day. I like the empty side too. I can still
feel the sex feelings in it even if it’s empty. It’s weird but really sexy in
a way. It sure hasn’t slowed me down sex wise, that’s for sure.” He continued
walking around the room letting everyone have a look, and of course, everyone
pretended to really admire him for it.”
“So, you see Jasper, there’s nothing to it really. The kid who was here before
you, the guy you saw coming into the lockers before you came out? He let us
have us both of his, and he’s going to go to school and impress his buddies
with the way he looks now without ‘em. You’ll be able to do that too, and
still grow up to have babies like Ralph here. What do you say? The ones from
boys your age are really delicious and we’ve already promised two of the guys
here that they’ll each get a taste. It’s really the best delicacy on earth and
you guys are the only ones who can provide it to us to enjoy. How about that?!
Don’t you like us? We sure like you guys!”
Everybody, including Barry, held their breath. They weren’t about to take the
kids’ nuts by force, but if they could bring Jasper around, they were sure
Calvin would follow.
“You said it won’t hurt. That other guy said it hurt a lot.”
“Yeah, but you saw that he was Ok by the time you saw him, right? And we
didn’t use hardly any anesthetic on him. We’ve got a really special anesthetic
for you that’ll make you feel even better than if we didn’t give you anything.
And it’s really sexy for us to watch it happen to you. You know that’s part of
the deal here right? We’re all a little bit crazy about little guys like you.
You heard what Mike said about how beautiful you are, and getting to watch you
give us one of your testicles would make you ten times more beautiful to us.
It’s like getting to watch you get your hair cut or get a nipple ring. We like
you so much that it’s heaven for us to see you get this little change in your
body that’ll make you different from all the other little boys. Much more
special than any other boys, cause you’ll only have one and they’ve all got
two. What do you say?”
It wasn’t the logic of this argument that would sell the kid, and Barry knew
it. It was the persuasive and kindly tone and the tone of pleading from this
older man who was such a good friend to him and his brother and his mother.
Finally the boy seemed to make up his mind. “Ok,” he said simply, but he
seemed more resigned than entirely enthusiastic. The crowd exhaled a sigh of
collective relieve with a considerable amount of excitement mixed in.
Barry jumped on it. “Great! Atta boy. That’s my Jasper, bravest kid who ever
lived. Carlos go get my gear Ok? Ok, you kids get up on the bed here and we’ll
wash you off down there again. Don’t want to get any infections from this do
we.” He was moving a mile a minute again, as he had done with Jeremy, hoping
to get past some point of emotional no return before Jasper could change his
mind. He didn’t even ask Calvin what he wanted to do. Calvin wanted to do what
Jasper wanted to do. Pretty simple.
“You’re gonna love this afterwards when the other boys see what you look like
down there. They’re gonna go Wow! ‘How’d that happen’, and stuff, like it was
an injury or something, like Ralph’s. They’re gonna be so impressed. And it’s
such a wonderful thing for you to do for us, like what Mike said, when he
said, “You’ve no idea how beautiful you are. You can’t understand why we want
this so bad, I know, but trust me we do. We can hardly stand it, it’s so
terrific, like the way Marty squirted his stuff all over your face. You could
see how much he liked doing that and you helped him, I saw you work your head
back and forth so he could soak you good. So you understand what we’re feeling
even if you don’t feel it yourself, you’re such a good boy. Ok?”
“K,” Jasper said softly, still not entirely convinced, but seemingly resigned.
He knew his fate in life was tied up with weird sex stuff and that his mother
earned their living from it, so if he had to do this he was going to be brave
and just do it. He felt sorry for Calvin though, because he knew that Cal was
too young to really make this kind of choice. But mom said they both had to
give them one each, so he guessed that mom had made the decision for both of
them, and mom made the rules, that’s for sure.
Carlos returned with Barry’s castration kit and handed it to him. Barry took
it and laid it down beside the bed.
Then he said, “Ok, we’re gonna sneak one of your nuts from each of you, like
your mom said, but first we’d like to see if we can get you guys to cum for
us. It’ll help to calm you down and relax you after you cum so you won’t be so
squirmy like you are now. Besides, we’d just like to see that before we take
care of business. How’s that sound?”
The boys just shrugged.
“We’ll do Calvin first, and then you, Jasper,” Barry said. “You know your
brother better than anybody, is there anything that we can do that will help
him to get aroused and cum?” He asked Jasper.
“I don’t know. He does it by himself sometimes, but mostly I’ve seen him come
with somebody holding him.”
“Do you want to hold him for us?” Barry asked.
“Nah, he likes it better with an adult holding him,” Jasper replied. “I think
that Santa Claus guy would be good,” he said nodding toward Roger.
“Hey Rog, you wanna jack this kid off for us? Come on up here, let’s see what
you can do with the kid.” Roger mounted the stairs and came over and sat on
the bed with the two boys.
“So Calvin, do you like this big fat man?” Barry asked the boy. “Jasper says
he’s Santa Claus. Do you like Santa Claus?”
“He’s not Santa Claus!” Calvin disclaimed.
“He looks like Santa, right?” Barry replied. “He could be Santa couldn’t he?
You think Santa stays at the North Pole all year long and never visits the
lower 48 until Christmas Eve? He pays us visits all the time, don’t you Santa?
He has to check out the toy stores once in awhile, see what’s new, right?”
“Are you Santa?” Calvin asked, looking at Roger now.
“No Calvin, I’m not Santa,” Roger replied. Barry..uh, Mr. Winston…he’s just
kidding. I am one of Santa’s helpers though.”
“You bring presents to kids?” Calvin asked.
“No, I teach little boys like you how to cum. That’s a better present than
anything else I could give you.”
“Come where?” Calvin asked, causing everyone to chuckle.
“I mean, ‘have an orgasm’,” Roger replied. “It’s like sneezing except it feels
better…. lasts a lot longer. And it happens in your weenie instead of your
nose.”
“I don’t like to sneeze,” Calvin said.
“I know, but it makes the tickle in your nose go away, right?” Roger replied.
“That’s what happens in your weenie when you cum, it makes the tickle in your
groin go away and it feels really good and makes you feel nice and warm all
over. God made it feel good so we’d squirt all the time and make a lot of
babies.”
“I don’t know why he made us sneeze though,” Calvin said, thinking about all
of this.
“I don’t either, but he sure got it right with orgasms,” Roger replied. “Come
here and sit on my lap and let’s see if we can give you a nice little orgasm.
Jasper says you do it in the bathtub and stuff. Can you do it right here, do
you think?”
“Maybe, if you rub me and kiss me like the other guys do sometimes,” Calvin
said.
“You mean the other guys your mom knows?” Roger said, picking the boy up and
sitting him in his lap.
“Yeah. If they hold me and kiss me and stuff, that feels nice and sometimes it
makes me itch really hard in my tummy and it makes me squeeze my legs together
and stuff. I really like that. Is that an ‘orgam’?”
“Orgasm, yah,” Roger said, fondling the boy now and kissing his hair and the
side of his head. “It’s easier to just say ‘cum’, though.”
“Why’s it called ‘cum’?” Calvin asked.
“It means ‘come unglued’, I guess, I donno,” Roger replied. “It’s just a
better name for it, like saying ‘fuck’ instead of ‘sexual intercourse’, Ok?”
“Ok. Oo..that feels good”, Calvin said, purring now. Roger was rubbing his
tummy and fondling his balls. He had his hand cupped in Calvin’s crotch and
was slowly massaging his little genitalia, his balls and the little penis that
was rock hard now. He just rubbed and rubbed, and kissed the boy everywhere,
on his nose and his mouth, his eyes, his ears, his hair, his neck, everywhere.
Calvin loved it. It felt good and the man’s hands on him were warm and soft
and rough all at the same time. His big belly was warm and soft too, and very
comfortable. He felt really tingly and nice all over with what the man was
doing to him. He knew the man really liked him and he liked him back. He felt
tingly in his tummy like butterflies in his tummy like everybody was looking
at him, which they were, and waiting for him to do something or say something.
He was nervous for some reason and he didn’t know why. He was nervous in his
belly and his groin. He felt squirmy there and he needed to squeeze his legs
together on the man’s hand. He couldn’t make the squirmy feeling go away, it
kept getting stronger and stronger. It was like in the bathtub or in the
morning when he rubbed his groin on the pillow. He had to keep squirming like
he used to squirm on the pillow sometimes. He wanted it to stop but he wanted
it to keep going too. He needed to pee, he thought. Not pee, something else,
but he needed it bad whatever it was and he couldn’t hold it anymore! It was
hurting or something and he couldn’t hold it!
“Owww, owww,” Calvin cried, squirming and bucking in Roger’s lap. Roger lifted
the boy’s chin toward his mouth and kissed him, probing at the little lips
with his tongue until they parted.
“Mmmm….mmmph…mmnn”, Calvin moaned. He moaned into the man’s mouth and squirmed
and bucked and squeezed his legs against Roger’s hand that was clutching at
his balls and his cock. “Owww..oww.…eeech!”, he screamed as he thrust his
pelvis, instinctively fucking, or trying to fuck, Roger’s hand. He jerked and
jerked and jerked against the hand with his bursting groin, and went rigid,
absolutely rigid, while this strange, wild, pre-pubescent orgasm washed over
him, head to toe. He stopped breathing it was so intense, but he kept his head
still, continuing to take the kissing mouth on his own, while the sex chucks
wrung him out like a dishrag.
Finally he slumped back against the man’s stomach and opened his mouth,
gasping and breathing as hard as if he’d been running up the stairs somewhere.
His chest and belly heaved and his legs were still trembling. It felt so good
and strange and scary.
“Whooo…”, he sighed, again and again, slowly coming down, breathing more
slowly and starting to relax again a little bit. His weenie was still tingling
though, and the man was still squeezing it and rubbing it. It hurt kind of, it
was so sensitive now, but he didn’t want the man to stop even so. He needed to
have it squeezed, even if it hurt a little bit. He needed to have the man
squeeze out the soreness in it and make it calm down. “Wow…” he exclaimed. “I
liked that!”
Everybody cheered at the sight of the little guy’s super intense orgasm,
probably stimulated by all the sexing and fucking he’d been through that
afternoon. And they’d all been part of it. Part of making him cum, and
watching him enjoy it like never before. They cheered and laughed, and Jasper
too, who knew exactly what his brother was feeling. He loved him so much. Why
he loved him he didn’t know, he was such a pain most of the time, but love him
he did, and he was super glad he got to have this terrific orgasm that was
probably the best one he’d ever had.
Finally the cheering subsided and Roger smiled, almost in tears at the look on
the little boy’s face, the look of pure pleasure and satisfaction and joy. He
hugged the boy tight and squeezed him and kissed him again on the cheek. Then
he lifted him under his arms and stood him down on the mat and patted him on
the head.
Barry said, “Ok, that was great! Now I think we should take our little prize
from Calvin that he generously offered us, or his mom did anyway. Roger I
think it might be better if you held him in your lap for this part to, if you
don’t mind.”
“Hey, no problem, dude,” Roger replied. Everybody chuckled at that. Roger
scooped Calvin up and sat him in his lap again, straddling his right leg as
Barry had held him earlier.
“Ok, what you need to do, Roger, is sit him in the middle of your lap and
spread his legs over each side of yours, yeah, like that. Ok, so lemme ask you
Jasper have you guys had your flu shots, you know, your swine flu? I think all
you kids had to have those last year right?
“Yeah,” Jasper replied simply, more of a question than a statement though.
“Well, did it hurt? Did you or Calvin cry or anything?
“Nah,” a bit more definite this time.
“Ok, good. Because we want to give Calvin a little shot like that now so he’ll
relax and not feel anything when we extract his little pud thingy, Ok? It’s
called ‘smack’ because it makes you smack your lips, Ok?”
“I guess,” Jasper replied, back to being unsure. Calvin said nothing. He was
just watching the whole thing impassively, trustingly you might say, naively
even.
“Ok, first we’re gonna wrap this rubber tube around his thigh right below his
balls, like this, and pull it real tight to slow the blood circulation in his
leg. Then we’ll use this flu shot thingy, you’ve seen these before right
Calvin?” Calvin nodded, also a bit unsure at this point.
“Ok, good. So we’ll just stick this needle in this little vein on the inside
of your leg like that.”
“Oowch!” Calvin yelped, more in fright than pain.
“Come on, you’re alright, don’t be a wuss.” Barry soothed. He drew some blood
up into the brownish mixture in the body of the needle and then pushed the
whole thing into the kid’s leg. He quickly unwrapped the tubing and watched
the drug sweep over him. His body went slack, kind of, his breath rushing out.
His small hand fell to one side and he leaned back against Roger, then caught
himself, straightened up, than fell back again. Everybody was chuckling,
watching the kid losing it to the drug. His breath was coming in short little
gasps. His pupils were like nothing – pinned out – the blue of his eyes
overwhelming them. He drifted off somewhere for a second. It was like
everything was infused with warmth and okayness, and it made him giggle. “fill
fuddy.” he slurred in his little piping voice.
“Ok, I think he’s out of it enough, aren’t you Calvin, huh buddy? Just
floating out on that endless warm sea all safe and sound on Santa’s belly,
right buddy?” Calvin said nothing but just smiled languidly, slumped back with
his the side of his head against Roger’s chest, gazing at nothing, listening
to Roger’s heart beating to time of his own.
“Ok, let’s get this done,” Barry said. “We’ll just make a tiny little slit in
the bottom of his sac.” Calvin stirred but didn’t jump, feeling the sharp pain
as somewhere else than his own body. “You want to watch this Jasper, cause
you’re gonna be next.” Jasper bent down and put his hands on his knees to peer
at the operation, fascinated and apparently mindless of the fact that he was
still completely naked.
Having made the incision, Barry pinched the little testicle and pushed it down
through the new opening in the kid’s scrotum. Blood was dripping fairly
copiously into the stainless bowl Carlos had placed on the mat below.
“Don’t worry about the blood Jasper, he won’t lose even a tenth of what people
routinely give at a blood bank,” Barry calmly intoned, keeping everybody
relaxed and enjoying the spectacle. Jasper wasn’t enjoying it at all but he
wasn’t too worried either. It didn’t seem like Calvin was in much pain.
Somewhere far back in his head he was kind of looking forward to feeling what
Calvin was obviously feeling while he was been nutted. There was just
something inexplicably sexy about the whole thing that he couldn’t account
for, and was only half aware of it anyway.
“Ok, so we’ve got the testicle free of the scrotum, so the first thing we need
to do is fray the nerve channel so we can do the rest of the removal without
any sensations, drug or no drug.” Barry was narrating the procedure as he went
along. “We do this with the sharp edge of the scalpel like we did with
Jeremy’s earlier, but just the nerve channel this time. Calvin was frowning
now, and wincing a bit with the powerful ache in his tummy, but again it
didn’t seem to really be his ache. He wasn’t even too sure if it was his tummy
or Roger’s tummy that was aching so much.
“You got to know what you’re doing to do this right, and I’ve done it many
times. Ok, it’s getting thinner, it’s probably disconnected now but we’ll just
keep going slowly, no sense setting up any shock in his system if we can help
it,” Barry’s monologue continued.
“Ok, I think that takes care of the nerve channel, so we can take care of the
blood vessels more quickly next and then on to the Vas. Ok, that’s got the
blood vessels, oops, lotta blood now. Let’s cauterize those and the nerves.”
Roger was holding Calvin upright so he could see what was happening to
himself. He seemed interested if a bit distantly so. With the nerve channel
separated he wasn’t feeling any more pain in his tummy, or Roger’s, or
whatever.
“Ok, that leaves us with the Vas Deferens,” Barry said. “The nut is
essentially separated now with the nerve channels and blood vessels destroyed.
So we’ll pull the little thing down against the length of the Vas and see how
far it will go. Look at that, it can drop down almost half a foot. Neat huh?
Neat to see it swinging back and forth between his legs. What do think of that
Calvin? You like that or is that gross?
“Gross,” Calvin replied softly.
“Ok, Cal, this long stringy thing is the tube that delivers sperm to your
urethra. You don’t care about all that I know, and you aren’t producing much
sperm yet anyway, if any. But we need to sever it to get your nut loose from
your body so we can close your little sac up again.” Barry quickly scraped
away the tissues of the Vas Deferens until it became thinner and thinner and
then just slipped apart from Calvin’s body.
“There! Done!” Barry exclaimed. Now we’ll drop it in with the blood in the
bowl to keep it wet for a few minutes while we close up the wound in your
ittow scrotum (starting to go Baby talk for some reason, maybe for reassurance
or deflection of regrets).” He ran a cauterizing tip over the slit and then
covered it with surgical tape, finishing the job.
“Ok, so now let’s have a good look at this thing,” Barry said, picking the
immature testicle up out of the bloody bowl and drying it a bit with a white
cloth. “Ok, Jasper, see that? That’s what they look like out of the bag.
Purple to gray in color, kid of like a curled up little snail isn’t it?”
“Yeah, weird,” Jasper replied.
“Ok, hand it to Calvin now so he can see it too.” Barry instructed.
Calvin slowly lifted his arm from his side, like he was relearning how to do
it, and took his little testicle carefully between his fingers, gazing at
closely, almost cross-eyed.” He said nothing.
“Ok, Calvin, now Give it to Roger…I mean Santa. He paid for it,” Barry said.
Calvin turned his head to look up at Roger with a slight smile and slowly
raised his hand to give it to the nice older man.
Roger smiled back at the boy, and ruffled his hair. “Thank you Calvin, you’re
a good boy and very generous to give my your little nut to eat for my lunch.
Is it Ok if I eat it right now?” he asked, gently. Calvin just nodded his head
as Roger took the little organ from the boy. Roger examined it for a few
seconds turning it around in his fingers, and then popped it in his mouth. He
rolled it around in his mouth for a moment or two like a gum ball and then
started to chew.
“Umm, crunch, crunch,” he said pretending to communicate the sound he was
hearing in his jaws. Actually it was more like chewing on a piece of hard
gristle, but it finally gave way after several chomps and start to break apart
in his mouth. He continued to masticate the thing until it was just small
little mashed up bits of rubbery tissue and he slowly pressed them back into
his throat savoring the taste on the back of his tongue.
“Mmmmm, delicious!” He exclaimed, exaggerating a bit. That’s really good. Umm,
fills me up good, small as it is. Tastes just like you Cal, nice and sweet and
really sexy. Thank you, thank you.” Calvin giggled again at this praise. Roger
hugged him and kissed him again on the cheek and then pulled back to look him
in the eyes, which were beginning to recover their pupils already. He hadn’t
been given a very big dose. Just enough to carry him through the procedure.
“Ok, guys, that’s the end of the show with Calvin, let’s give him a big hand.
I want to put him down for a nap before the drug wears off and he starts to
feel the pain of the incision in his sac.” Everybody clapped and whooped and
whistled and clapped some more, yelling “Way to go Calvin, you’re the champ,
buddy. Go take a nap pal, you earned it!”
Carlos lifted the little boy into a cradle hold to carry him out back to the
rest area where there was a place for him to sleep off the drug and the
residual pain, although everyone knew he’d be sore when he woke up and would
probably be crying on and off for a few hours until he got used to the feeling
and it began to dull a bit.
“Hold a sec, Carlos, let’s have one more look at him before you go,” Barry
said. “Spread his legs for us, that’s right. How about that guys? Looks a bit
lopsided like Ralph now, but not too bad, eh? Sexy as hell if you ask me.”
More clapping and hollered affirmations ensued, and then Carlos departed
taking the boy with him.
They all watched them go for a few seconds, and then Barry turned to Jasper.
“Ok kid, you’re up next. You could back out if you want. I’ll only be able to
pay your mom half, but maybe she’d be alright with that, what do you say? I
don’t want to make you do something you’d hate, and make you feel angry with
us. You still up for this?”
“I’m Ok,” Jasper replied. “It looks scary with all that blood and everything,
but I guess it won’t really hurt me, right? I guess you guys really like to
see it, and it makes me a little horny thinking about that, so I’m Ok with it.
Let’s do it.”
“Great!” Barry replied. “That’s the spirit. You got the right attitude kid and
you’re brave as hell, no doubt about that.” Jasper just smiled a bit shyly at
the compliment. Kids his age are just gluttons for adult praise and Jasper was
no exception.
“Ok, but first we want to see you masturbate for us like Calvin did, you Ok
with that too?” Roger asked. Jasper just nodded.
“So, come on over here in front of me. I’ll stick my fingers up your ass, not
my cock like I did Jeremy earlier, and you just do yourself however you like
it, Ok?
“Ok,” Jasper replied, smiling a bit sheepishly at that thought of making
himself cum in front of everybody like this. Barry greased up his fingers and
slowly worked two of them, and then three of them into the boy’s asshole.
“That feel good?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jasper replied softly, not too sure again whether he liked it or not,
but deciding that he did, kind of. Barry was working his fingers around and
prodding the little prostate and that stiffened the kid’s prick good. Jasper
cupped his own balls and started pulling on his stiff dick. It was really good
sized given his age. Remarkable, really. You’d have to think his was a case of
early onset puberty except that he was nearly eleven and really just a little
bit precocious for his age.
“Ok, kid, bend over just a bit from the hips for me, like that, and give us
nice tripod stance with your legs spread and braced. Good! Ok, pull on that
little puppy, get yourself steamed up good. Yeah, like that. Give it some
speed. We want you to go off standing up if you can manage it,” Barry said. He
was having fun directing the boy through his ‘self abuse’.
For his part, jasper was grimacing now with his tongue to one side between his
lips, concentrating on his dick and squeezing his own balls, working himself
up to a sexual frenzy. “How you feeling Jas?” Barry asked him.
“I feel fucky!” Jasper replied, obviously getting into it.
“Good boy! Listen, hold on a second.” Barry replied withdrawing his fingers
from the boy’s ass. “Let’s put this dildo in there instead so you can walk
around and give everybody some close-ups, Ok?”
Jasper stopped masturbating briefly and looked back over his shoulder at
Barry, waiting for the dildo. It was one of those cone shaped deals that
tapered back down to a slim neck and then flared out again keep it from
disappearing into the ass. A butt plug, in other words. Barry had oiled it
good with silicone lube so it wouldn’t dry out and slowly pushed it in through
the boy’s pucker hole, widening the hole slowly to pretty wide making the kid
wince and bend over almost in half to accommodate the thing. He knew how to
take it though. He’d had things bigger than that pushed in there before. Soon
enough it slid in past the widest part and locked into place in his ass. He
signed then, and straightened up.
“Ok, there you go. Now you’re mobile. Go give us a little walk about, Ok?,
while you pull on your pud for us. That’s good. Cool. You look really cool and
sexy like that!” Barry exclaimed.
Jasper walked up to the edge of the mat and thrust his pelvis forward holding
his balls and squeezing his dick. He actually had pre-cum dripping over his
fingers now. God, was he developed for his age. He must be feeling really good
about now. He flipped around then, and bent over showing his ass with the plug
stuck up inside of him. He spread his legs, braced solidly apart and waggled
his ass for everybody to see. He looked back at them and smiled with his mouth
open and his tongue working over his lips. He was giving them a show and was
really looking forward to cumming, and it wasn’t gonna be long now.
He stood up straight again and walked over to the other side of the mat and
did the same little dance for the guys on that side.
Then Barry said, “Ok Kid, before you cum, I got an idea. Come back over here
and stand in front of me facing the crowd. Yeah, good.”
“You guys’ve all heard about autoerotic asphyxiation, right? That’s where a
guy cuts off the oxygen to his head for a minute or two, right? Makes him
really light headed and makes him cum like a fire hose. You heard about that
Jas? Same thing happens to guys when they’re hanged. They usually cum at the
end from the lack of oxygen and the shock to their nervous system when their
neck snaps.”
“Yeah, some of the kids at school do it sometimes,” Jasper replied. “I’ve
never done it though. Mom says it’s dangerous.”
“It is dangerous,” Barry replied. “Kids kill themselves by accident all the
time doing it. But it feels really great when you come, and if you have
somebody helping you, like me, there’s very little danger. See I’ve got this
leather collar I can put around your neck like this and it has a metal slot at
one end that I can slip the other end through like a belt with no fastener. I
can just pull it tight like this around your neck and hold it there with my
thumb to keep you from breathing until you cum. But since I can see how it’s
affecting you I can just let go of it at the right time so you don’t suffocate
to death. There’s no catch so it can’t get stuck or anything, Ok?”
“Ok,” Jasper replied. He was up for anything at this point, he was so hot.
“Feels weird around my neck. Should I start in again?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Barry replied, starting to pull the collar tight around the
boy’s neck. “It doesn’t matter really. Once you’ve become sufficiently oxygen
deprived, you’ll cum, believe me, jack or no jack. Bend over a bit against my
pulling, Ok?” Jasper complied.
Suddenly Barry placed his fist against the collar at the back of the boy’s
neck and pulled it tight cutting off the flow of blood to the kid’s brain and
his ability to breath. Jasper instantly grabbed at his neck when he felt this
and instinctively tried to pull the collar away so he could breathe, but to no
avail. Barry just held him there steady against his squirming and struggling,
waiting for the blood and oxygen loss to take affect. Jasper was grimacing and
wincing with his mouth distended. His face was flushed a bright red. He
clutched and scabbled at the collar, no hands on his cock at all, but his dick
was still stiff as a fireplace poker stuck straight up against his belly.
Suddenly, while he was still clutching at the collar and struggling
desperately for breath, the boy’s legs stiffened and he went up on his toes.
Barry held him steady, bracing him against falling. His face began to turn
blue as he thrust out his hips, trying in vain to scream.
And then, ‘spritttz!’, just like that, almost audibly, the cum started to
shoot, unaided by any touching of his cock whatsoever. Shlipp! and sputz!, the
cum flew out of his dick. Once, twice, and once again. He jumped on his toes
straining for release of both of his prostate and his breath, and just as
suddenly, Barry let go.
“Eeeaahh!...gaaah!...ahh!” he gasped as his breath returned and he could pull
at the collar and open it up. His chest was heaving, and his cock was still
dripping cum down its length. Now he could grab at it again and squeeze the
fuck out of it, literally. “Uh…uh…uh..” he continued gasping and heaving and
thrusting up his little pelvis. The orgasm was still tingling all over his
body as the oxygen returned to his head. His entire body was quivering and
buzzing with orgiastic bliss like never before in his young life.
“Oooooh!,” he exhaled as his trembling legs finally gave out and he slumped to
the mat against Barry’s legs, who had sat down on the edge of the bed. He
leaned his head back against Barry’s knees, breathing and breathing and the
collar still hanging loosely around his neck leaving a matching red welt on
his delicate skin. Barry just fondled his hair and murmured soothingly. “You
Ok, buddy, was that Ok? Did that feel good? Kind of scary there for a minute,
huh? Felt pretty good though, right…when you came?”
“Shhiiiittt!” he exclaimed, his chest still heaving. “Wow, I never thought
it’d be like that. What the fuck! I don’t know if I’d ever want to do that
again, but that was wild! You shoulda warned me, jeeeze!”
“Well, once in a lifetime, kid. You don’t have to do it again. Once is enough,
but now you know what it’s like. You can dream about it from now on and don’t
have to really do it ever again.”
“Ok, that’s ok,” Jasper replied. “I’ll give it some thought, but I think that
might be too much for me. I’ll just go back to fucking the regular way, if
that’s alright with you guys.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Barry replied softly. “It was great to see it though,
right guys?” he asked the crowd. They were stunned. They could only murmur
their approval and appreciation of the show. They hadn’t the energy at that
point to whoop or holler. Just some ‘man, oh man’s!’, and some ‘holy fucks!’,
and the like. They were also waiting in anticipation of the nutting that they
knew would be next on the program.
“Here Jas, lift up your leg and hold it there for a sec while I pull that plug
outta your ass.
“Ssssss!” Jasper squealed, sucking in his breath through his teeth while the
dildo was removed, especially during the wide part. “Ooop!”, he yelped when it
popped out. There was a bit of shit on it, but not much. Barry dropped it in a
bag and handed the bag to Carlos to take care of. He gave Jasper a few tissues
to wipe himself with, which he did. He tossed those in the bag too when he was
done.
“Ok, everybody,” Barry announced. “We’re gonna take a little break now before
do the final act and wrap this thing up for the day. I gotta take a pee, I
don’t know about you, and some of you might need to jack or something so, be
my guest. See you back here in ten.”
After a brief interlude of catching his breath and regaining his composure,
Jasper decided to join the crowd now milling around the room sharing remarks
on the days events and praising the ‘quality’ of the show. Jasper joined the
group that included Roger, the Santa man, because he liked him the best and
felt safest with him. Mainly he didn’t want to be alone on the stage. Roger
welcomed the boy with a smile and put his hands on his shoulders, but
continued his conversation with the other members, kind of as if the kid
weren’t there, but still acknowledging him by holding onto him in an avuncular
manner. The simple fact was that these were adults attending this
‘performance’, and Jasper was a child. The adults operated on a different
social and cultural level from the young performers and there was little that
the adults could talk about that could actively include a child in the verbal
give and take given the children’s role as sexual playthings for these men
with their bizarre tastes. This was no surprise to Jasper given his
experiences at home and he didn’t mind at all. He knew he was admired by these
men for his boyish charm and his physical beauty. He didn’t need to interact
with them on an intellectual level. He knew he wasn’t ready for that. He also
knew that they loved him in their own way and appreciated his generosity in
sharing his budding sexuality with them, something they could never hope to be
able to see in any other circumstances.
Finally though, the men arrived at a break in their adult conversation and
turned their attention to the boy. “So Jasper,” Roger said to him, “that was
quite an experience for you I imagine with that collar around your neck. You
looked pretty distressed there for a minute. How did that feel?”
“I was kinda scared because I couldn’t breathe, but I wasn’t too scared
because Mr. Winston is my friend and I knew he wouldn’t really hurt me.”
“So you trusted him to let you loose in time, like falling backward into his
arms? Like that?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Jasper said simply, smiling shyly. “I felt kind of weird too,
like a puppet or something, you know what I mean? At first anyway, but then
when I started to cum I forgot everything and just tried to survive without my
head exploding. I didn’t care if I couldn’t breathe, I just wanted to cum,
that’s all that mattered. Even if I’d of died at that point I don’t think I
would’ve cared.”
“Wow!” Roger marveled. “That sounds amazing. I’m going to have to try that
game someday. I’ll have to find somebody I trust, though, to help me. I don’t
think I’d try it alone.”
“Nope,” Jasper replied. I don’t recommend that.” Suddenly he was the one with
the superior experience and could dispense sexual advice to these adults. That
made him feel really good; really grown up. The fact that they were all
talking about the very depths of decadent sexual perversity and bizarre forms
of depraved child molestation into which the child himself had been co-opted
didn’t seem to dawn on any of them, or bother them at all. Weird.
Barry Winston returned at that point and asked everyone to retake their seats.
“Jasper my little man, come on up here and join me on stage pal,” Barry spoke
to him gently as he mounted the stairs and returned to the bedside. “Are you
ready to give us your nut, like we agreed? You can still back out you know? We
want you totally in on this, otherwise we’re done here for the day, Ok?”
“Yeah, Ok,” was all that Jasper had to say.
“Ok, well sit on the bed here and we’ll fix you up with some of that nice
smack we gave your brother earlier. You looking forward to that?”
“Umm hmm,” Jasper replied. “That looked like fun.”
“Yeah, you’ll soon find out. We’ll put the rubber tube around your arm this
time instead of your leg so you can pull it loose yourself after we get the
drugs into you. Hand me that syringe Carlos. Ok, can you watch this or do you
need to look away?”
“I can watch,” Jasper replied.
“Ok here we go, here’s a nice vein all purpley and ready. I’ll stick this
needle into that vein like this.” Jasper winced but didn’t cry out. He was a
big boy unlike his brother. “We’ll draw out some blood like before to mix it
in with the drug,” Barry continued his narration while he worked. “Now we’ll
push the plunger and in it goes, not too much, just so you lose most of the
sensations in your body and lose your ability to register pain. Ok, you ready
for this? Pull off the hose.” Jasper untied the rubber tubing and dropped it
on the mat. He’d been standing next to Barry for the injection. Now he tried
to sit down on the bed but he missed it and slumped to the floor like he’d
been punched. His head was tingling and he felt dizzy and disoriented. He lost
track for a moment where he was. He felt waves of calm sweep over him, like
giving his brain a warm bath. His face went slack, his eyelids drooped, and a
bit of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth.
It was amazing to watch, a ten year old boy, high as a kite and struggling to
remain conscious, pushing against the mat with one hand and waving the other
to find a handhold to pull himself back up on the bed. Time was lost to him,
rolling down a tunnel of fog.
“Ok, buddy, let me help you now,” Barry said as he lifted the boy bodily and
left him on the bed swaying a bit and trying to stay upright. Watching the kid
struggle with his brain fuzz was cute, but Dan was waiting for his prize.
“Dan, come on up here, this one’s yours I believe.” Dan ascended the stairs
and walked over to the bed.
“Ok, Dan walk round to the other side grab a few of those pillows. Bunch them
up behind his back and then lift his legs up by his thighs and hold them there
spread out behind his head, that’s right, like that. Good, now his entire
groin area is exposed and we can see his little asshole as well. Not that
we’re gonna do anything to that, but it’s nice to look at while we work. He’s
in heaven now so don’t worry about him, right Jas!” Barry yelled at the kid,
loud so he could get to him through the fog. “Uhhh?” Jasper said simply. His
mouth didn’t work too well and he didn’t have much to say anyway. He wasn’t
really there.
“Ok, Dan, which one you want, the left or the right?” Barry asked. Dan looked
down at the kid’s groin. His little dick was retracted now and poking out
above his balls. “Let’s go with the right one I think,” he told Barry.
“Right one it is. Nice and succulent that one. Ok we’ll put a nice little slit
in the sac right in front, right there. Don’t need to worry about cutting into
the testicle itself, it’s coming out in a second anyway. Ok good. Now we’ll
pinch behind it and squeeze it out of the bag. There we go, just like shelling
peas in a way. There it is, bright and shiny. Now we’ll pull it as far out as
it will go,” Barry said as he drew the nut out and down on it’s cords, blood
dripping from the scrotal wound down Jasper’s leg.
“Ehhuuungh”, Jasper moaned. He was hurting now in spite of the drug. Pulling
on the testicle ached in his guts, bad. He didn’t squirm too much though. He
was too far out of it for that.”
“Easy does it pal, won’t be long now,” Barry soothed. “I’m gonna just scrape
through the entire connective tissue this time, rather than separate the
nerves and blood vessels first. I gave him a pretty good dose and it’ll be
quicker this way.” The blood started to flow from the damaged vascular system
as Barry scraped along it’s length with the side of his scalpel. His hands
were covered with the boy’s blood now, but Jasper couldn’t see what was
happening because his head was back against the pillows. He was staring
languidly into space anyway wondering where all this pain was coming from and
whose body it was hurting in, wondering whether it was his own, knowing it was
of course, but wondering just the same. Confusing that.
“Ok,” Barry said (his favorite word), we’re almost home now. The tissue is
almost frayed through. Then we can cauterize and close up the wound. There.
Done.” He pulled the testicle free and showed it first to Dan and Jasper and
then to the crowd.
“Ok, it’s all yours,” he said handing the organ to Dan, who dropped Jasper’s
left leg so he could take the nut from Barry. He continued to hold the boy’s
right leg though so Barry could complete the operation. “I’m gonna finish up
here with the cauterizing and patch the incision, and leave you two guys to
contemplate the ineffable or whatever and enjoy your lunch,” Barry said.
“You want to hold it?” Dan asked Jasper. Jasper just gazed at the thing that
had been in his groin a minute ago. He slowly moved his left hand (he was left
handed) up to take his severed testicle from Dan, missing a couple of times
before he finally got hold of it. He looked at it closely and turned it around
examining it, not really knowing what he was looking for or why. He also stuck
out his tongue and licked at it. “Don’t you eat it you little putz,” Dan
exclaimed, afraid he might lose his prize after all that money spent. “That’s
not yours anymore, that’s mine!”
Jasper said nothing but slowly handed it back to Dan. He didn’t intend to eat
it anyway, he was just looking at it because Dan said he could. He just
thought he aught to clean some of the blood off it for him. It seemed kind of
messy before.
Dan took the testicle back and examined it some more and then popped it in his
mouth. He sucked off the remaining fluids and swallowed them, but kept the
ball in the side of this mouth. Then he looked at Jasper and said, “Ok, here
we go. Munch, munch.”
He chewed down on the gristly organ finding it more resistant than he’d
expected. He had difficulty chewing though it but he kept at it. Finally it
broke in half and he was able to work on it with both sides of his teeth. He
savored not so much the taste as the thought of what it was and whose it was.
He savored also the thought that there were probably lots of Jasper’s living
sperm still in it and he was eating those as well. The mind of a pedophile is
beyond deciphering, even to the man himself.
Soon enough he had masticated the fleshy meat and was able to swallow it bit
by bit. “Well that was strange,” he said to Jasper and to no one. “Not much
taste really aside from the blood, but a weird texture, and rather exotic.
Delicious in it’s own way, maybe just from the beauty of its source. I’d do it
again, for sure.”
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it Dan,” Barry exclaimed. “I hope all you guys
enjoyed the show. We’ll have another set of little guys for you next month.
Not too sure yet what’ll be on offer, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. For now
though I’ve got to get this groggy little guy in bed with his brother so he
can sleep this shit off and then get them back to their mom before she freaks
out and calls the cops. Ha! Just kidding, she won’t do that. We’re paying her
too well, and she’d sell us her own tits if we wanted them bad enough.”
With that, the monthly session of the Boys Club was over. Barry left the stage
with Jasper in tow over his shoulder, and the crowd began to disburse
murmuring and remarking on the amazing scenes they’d seen that day and
speculating on what else Barry could come up with that could possibly top it.
(End of part 2.)
\----------------
In part 3 we are introduced to Marcus, a gorgeous black kid with a slavery
fetish developed from reading too much about his African ancestors. Also in
Part 3 we learn that Jasper has had a bicycle accident that caused his
remaining testicle to rupture and become infected and had to be removed to
keep from getting gangrene. So Calvin pleads with his mother to remove his
other one too, so he can be just like his big brother. But mom wants Calvin to
wait until he’s old enough to produce sperm so he can bank some before she
sells his last one, as she wants to have grandchildren some day. But Barry
puts so much pressure on her and offers her so much money, that she finally
relents and let’s the ‘Boys Club’ take the last of Calvin’s balls and end her
family’s genetic line. She also agrees to attend the show and to let Jasper,
Calvin’s older eunuch brother do the nutting while Jasper himself is naked and
fully aroused. When Calvin’s last nut ‘falls’, Jasper ejaculates
spontaneously, and probably for the last time.
email to [email protected]
* * * |
Russian Winter Part 3 | NULLIFICATION | Asoldier loses his jewels in the cold russian winter | ` The line cut deeper into my flesh.... `
The agonising sweet itch in my crotch grew more intense with each reverbration
of the ghastly music notes. although my consciounce was nagging at the depths
of my subconsciounce I could not suppress the reaction of my manhood.
"It seems to be more than even a female batallion can handle!" She was
hysterical with lust as she downed another vodka.... My eyes could not strain
from her clean shaven pussy- a delicate pearl waiting for the release that
only manhood could offer her.
The frenzy of the night seemed to take hold of me- and the battalion of
gourgeous women assembled in stages of undress around me." This throbbing
member is just too good to ignore"
She mounted me- but not after biting both my nipples to isanity. I could feel
the sticky blood running down my abdomen and forming a puddle of goo in my
pubic hair. "This will not do" she exclaimed promptly and dismounted. "I need
a light!" she anounced to the audience. From somewhere gasoline and matches
were produced. A deep guttural moan emmitted from the crowd as she poured the
cold tank diesoline over my exposed self....
* * * |
The Ultimate Revenge | **[eunuch.org/_private/stories_ahdr.htm]**
## The Ultimate Revenge
**Date:** 12 Oct 1997
**Time:** 23:29:03
**Remote Name:** 205.186.81.72
**Remote User:**
### description
These girls REALLY enjoy power over men! (torture, death, nullification)
### Comments
Please post this story ANNONYYMOUSLY!
THE ULTIMATE REVENGE
The girls had thought out their revenge well. Now it was time to put things
into motion. Rebecca was 23, Emily, 21, and Tammy was 18. All three were part
time models who supported their modelling careers by also working as exotic
dancers. In addition to their shared occupations, they were lesbians who held
a serious dislike for men. Many a night was spent sitting around the
apartment, drinking and getting high, and concucting methods to torture men.
Now, their fantasies were to be realized. The two men in question were repeat
child molesters, and after a well publicized trial where the men faced charges
of raping and torturing three small girls, they were subsequently acquited on
grounds of improper arrest and detainment. The public was outraged, and
although there were public cries for retrial, the story soon became forgotten
in the face of new stories. The women though had not forgotten and now saw
their opportunity. The men were known to hang out at an arcade frequented by
young girls. Emily and Tammy arrived, dressed in cut off denim shorts and
t-shirts. They found the men and began flirting with them. The invitation for
sex was made by Tammy, and the four went out to their van and left. A short
time later, they arrived at an abandoned factory and went inside. Once inside,
Rebecca appeared, wearing the same as her sisters, and brandishing a revolver.
"So. These are the boys who like sticking their dicks into little girls eh!"
Rebecca said, shaking her head. One of the men shouted. "What the hell is
going on? Who are you bitches?" Tammy moved in front of the man and although
she was a petite woman, she kicked him in the groin hard enough to knock him
to his knees. She pulled his hands away from his crotch and kicked him again.
She said. "You don't speak unless told to do so. And if you ever use that word
bitch again, I'll kick you over and over until your nuts are mush!" After a
minute, the man got to his feet. Rebecca aimed the gun towards them and said.
"Alright boys. Get your clothes off. We want to see your dicks." The men
hesitated and Rebecca said as she lowered the gun to one of the men's groins.
"Get your clothes off now! Do it, or i'll blow your nuts off!" The men
proceeded to remove their clothes until they stood naked in front of the
girls. They giggled and pointed at the men. "God! Those are the most pathetic
dicks I have ever seen!" said Rebecca. "I think referring to these guys as
boys is pretty accurate judging by those puny dicks!" laughed Emily. "I don't
think the word dick applies at all. They're more like . . .dinks!" The girls
all laughed at this diminuative term. Tammy then added. "Now. Let's see you
boys get those little dinks hard. Let's see you jerk off!" They watched as the
men reluctantly began to masturbate, but before they could ejaculate, they
were ordered to stop. Elastics were wound tightly around their genitals, and
they were then led into an adjoining room. Each man was tied on his back,
spread eagle to an old door lying on the floor. Emily set up three video
cameras around the room, and then all three girls began removing their
clothes. When naked, they began kissing and caressing one another with great
excitment. They went and stood over one of the men. Tammy knelt over the man's
head and lowered her vagina onto his mouth. "Now you be a good boy and make me
come. If I don't come at least 3 times, I'm gonna cut your little dink off! So
get licking!" The man began performing oral sex on the small blond woman and
she soon began moaning with pleasure. Rebecca and Emily knelt on either side
of the man. Emily slapped and squeezed his testicles while Rebecca pinched and
twisted his erect penis. Rebecca pulled a cigarette from her purse and lit it.
Tammy moved forward slightly, and knowing what was coming next, she smiled.
She said to the man. "Good boy. Now. Clean my ass with your tongue." When the
man did not do as instructed, Tammy winked at Rebecca. Rebecca pushed the
glowing tip of the cigarette against the underside of the man's penis causing
him to scream and squirm. The man began licking Tammy's anus. "Okay. You've
got 2 minutes to make me come. If you don't, Rebecca's gonna burn your dink
again. So get to it." The man did as told, but when two minutes passed, he was
not yet sucsessful. The girls giggled as Rebecca held the burning ember
against the head of his penis and he screamed again. Tammy then continued.
"Now you have one minute to make me come, or else." Again the man failed and
again Rebecca burned his penis with the cigarette. This game was repeated with
demands by Tammy for the man to make her come at 10 second intervals. Each
time, he failed, and each time his penis was burned. When Rebecca was finished
with the cigarette, she extinguished it on the tip of his penis. Emily and
Tammy glanced at each other and smiled. Emily reached between the man's legs
and squeezed his testicles hard enough to make the man scream. When he did,
Tammy began to urinate onto the man's face, much of it ending up in his open
mouth. She then got off the man and each of them took a turn kicking him in
the crotch. They went to the other man and tortured him in much the same way.
Emily sat on the man's face while Rebecca applied ball torture with her
fingernails and a book of matches. Tammy was busying herself inflicting pain
upon the man's erect penis with her teeth. The man yelped at every little nip
she gave him. "You better get use to the feeling of teeth on your dink boy.
We've got something very special in mind for you." All three girls laughed.
They went back to the first man and untied him. They led him to a worktable
and tied his hands behind his back. Emily licked his penis until erect and
reaching into a box on the table, withdrew a condom covered in a thick brown
liquid and put it on the man's penis. She then wrapped a soaking ribbon of
toilet paper around it. They led him over to vice and placed his penis in its
jaws and closed the vice until he could not withdraw his penis. Tammy stepped
up holding a large vibrator, and without warning, shoved it into the man's
anus. The man screamed and the girls laughed. "Now you know how it feels to
have something forced into your body that doesn't belong there." As Tammy
continued assaulting the man, Emily climbed up onto the table and sat with her
legs spread in front of the man. She masturbated as she spoke to the man. "Do
you know what we're going to do to you boy? Well, you've got a condem covered
in motor oil on your dink, and then it's wrapped with toilet paper soaked in
paint thinner." Emily paused as she produced a book of matches. Rebecca moved
a video camera closer and set up beside Emily. "We're gonna have ourselves a
weiner roast! And we're gonna use your weiner!" Tammy left the vibrator in the
man's anus and joined the others by the table. Emily struck a match and lit
the toilet paper and they all cheered as a large blue flame covered the man's
penis. The man shrieked with pain and the girls began masturbating furiously.
The heat from the burning oil began to melt the condom practically cooking the
penis inside of it. After perhaps 20 minutes, the fire burned out, and the
man's penis was nothing more than a charred mass. Rebecca grabbed the handle
and began closing the vice, slowly crushing the penis. The man renewed his
screaming as he watched his beloved manhood being squashed in the vice. The
girls giggled when the vice jaws came together, mashing the penis completly.
Rebecca then opened the vice allowing the man to fall to the floor. Tammy
knelt down with a knife and sliced off the penis. She then pushed it towards
his mouth. "Open up boy. Your weiner is done." She shoved his severed penis
into his mouth then taped it shut. They handcuffed the man to the table leg,
and left him to suffer. Returning to the first man, they untied him and
dragged him over to a large beam in the center of the room. They sat him
against it, and tied his hands to the beam above his head. They then spread
his legs and tied his feet to bolts set into the floor. Tammy knelt between
his legs and began fondling his penis until it was erect. She then began
slapping it back and forth and giggling as she did so. She produced a mascara
brush and pushed it into the hole at the end of his penis. She began sliding
it in and out, causing the man to wince and cry. With one hand she twisted the
brush inside his penis while forcibly squeezing his testicles with the other.
She then withdrew the brush, and seeing it now tinged with red, she smiled.
Rebecca stood between the man's legs and bent over. She pushed her buttocks
into his face. "Now you be a good, little boy and stick your tongue in my ass!
Make me come or i'll bite off that sad, little dink of yours!" The man
obediently began licking the girl's anus. She reached down between his legs
and grabbing his penis, began to scratch and twist it. Emily lay between his
legs, jabbing and punching his balls. Tammy had left the room to retrieve
something from the van. Rebecca soon reached orgasm. "Your a good boy!" As she
went to leave, she stomped her foot down into his crotch, squashing his balls
against the floor. After a few minutes, the man had recovered enough for the
girls to get him hard once more. Tammy knelt between his legs and said to the
man. "Did you see what we did to your friend? We set his dink on fire! We let
it burn until it was cooked. We cut if off and shoved it in his mouth. And,
with a little luck, he'll get hungry and start eating it. How would you like
to eat your own dink?" The man shook his head and the girls giggled. "Well,
don't worry. We're not going to make you eat your dink." She took a jar of
cheese spread and using a knife, began to spread it over the man's penis until
it was covered from tip to base. Rebecca pushed a large blanket covered box
between the man's feet while Tammy continued. "Remember I said that you
wouldn't have to eat your dink? Well, I wasn't lying. You're not going to eat
it. These are!" She pulled the blanket off the box. It was in fact a cage
containing 3 very large rats. The man began to cry and the girls laughed
hysterically. Tammy rubbed the man's still erect penis. "We haven't fed them
in a couple of days, so they're really hungry! I'm sure they won't have any
objections to eating your dick!" The man, upon full realization of what was
going to happen, began wailing and begging. Rebecca walked over and sternly
grabbed his balls. "Shut up you male piece of shit! Your fucking lucky we
don't kill you for what you've done! I think a male who rapes little girls at
least deserves to have his dink eaten by a couple of rats! You've hurt a lot
of girls. So now, we're going to hurt you! But best of all, we're going to
humiliate you!" The man had a puzzled look on his face. Rebecca smiled. "I
think you're going to find it pretty humiliating to be sitting there, legs
spread, watching as the rats eat off your weiner! You'll be humiliated to know
that those responsible are girls, and that those girls are getting off by
watching you suffer!" She released her grip on his balls and sat back by his
feet. Her and Emily spread their legs and began to masturbate. Tammy pushed
the cage between the man's legs and opened the door. She then joined the other
girls in masturbating. She yelled out as the rats left the cage. "There you go
girls!" The rats scurried to the screaming man's crotch and immediatly began
biting and chewing at the end of his erect penis. The women cheered as the man
screamed and squirmed, but was held tight by his restraints. All of the women
had already come, but they continued masturbating feverishly. they also
shouted ridicules at the man. "Eat it! Eat it! Eat his tiny, fucking dink
off!" "How's that boy? How's it feel to get your weiner chewed on?" "A guy
getting his weiner gnawed off by rats! This is the best sex with a man I've
ever had!" In about 15 minutes, the man's penis was completly eaten off.
Rebecca applied cheese sauce to his balls, and the three watched as the rats
made a meal of his nuts as well. They untied the other man, and using a brick,
Emily castrated him. They cut off his testicles and shoved them into his mouth
along with his penis. The men were bleeding profously as they were dragged to
the center of the room. The girls then began kissing, fondling and licking
each others bodies while the men slowly bled to death. They then gathered the
video equipement and left. All of them hoped that there would be another
opportunity for such a great day as this.
**[eunuch.org/_private/stories_aftr.htm]** |
||
A Manuscript Found in a Bottle | GAY, TESTICLES | (with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)<BR>A queer shipwrecked sailor finds himself cast away on an island which would be a gay man's paradise but for one detail. He can never leave and remain a man. | ` My name is Daniel Selkirk, a sailor by trade, most recently an able-bodied
seaman aboard the sloop, Betty Lowe, bound for Mindanao with a cargo of farm
implements.
It was sometime in August, 1873 (I had lost track of the exact date) when the
Betty Lowe became becalmed in the Doldrums. The sloop Betty Lowe was a vessel
of 2500 tons burthen with rarely-used auxiliary steam power which was intended
to get us out of just such situations as this.
After several days of futile efforts to catch enough of the fitful shifting
winds of the Doldrums to get out of them into the belt of the southern Trade
Winds, Captain Block decided to use steam. He ordered the boiler fired up and
waited to get up steam. I was on deck and had just started inspecting a
lifeboat slung in davits.
I had started to pull back the canvas boat cover when there was a tremendous
explosion behind me the shock of which threw me into the lifeboat. I grabbed
the boat cover to keep from being thrown into the sea and tumbled into the
boat. The shock of the explosion also released the davits so that the boat
fell into the water. It was this which saved my life as the blast of scalding
steam from the boiler explosion passed above me.
I cautiously lifted the boat cover and saw that the Betty Lowe had broken in
two and was rapidly sinking. Quickly, I threw back the boat cover. found the
oars, and rowed away as fast I could lest I be pulled down by the suction as
the ship sank. There was another explosion as the inrushing sea poured into
the firebox of the boiler and the Betty Lowe went to the bottom.
I rowed back to pick up any other survivors. There were none. I found only
four badly scalded corpses.Now, I was in a predicament. I am only a common
sailor, no navigator, and I had no idea where we were when the explosion
happened. Judging from the time we had been at sea, I guessed that I might be
somewhere north of Australia, though how far north, I couldn't even guess.
Anyhow, I did not intend to row all the way to Australia. The lifeboat had a
small mast and triangular sail which I set up. I would have to sail due south
to have any chance of reaching Australia, but where was due south ? There was
a compass in the lifeboat, but I did not know the magnetic declination in the
mid-Pacific ocean. I knew that there was such a thing and that the compass
could be off true south by as much as 22ş .
If the sky was cleat at night, I could set course for the Southern Cross. I
had seen it often and was sure I could recognize it, IF I was far enough south
to see it. Then I could find out the compass error and use it to keep on a
southerly course in cloudy weather. The Moon was nearly full, so I ought to be
able to read the compass by it.
I used the compass, with its unknown error, to sail as far, nearly south, as I
could during the day.The sky was clear that night and I could see the Southern
Cross. I set my course toward it and found the compass error. As long as I
stayed on the same meridian of Longitude, it shouldn't change.
Checking the food and water supplies, I guessed that there was enough of both
to last one man for about 6 weeks, 2 months on short commons. The food was
only hardtack and lemons to ward off scurvy. Of course, I still had one worry.
I couldn't be sure that I was north of Australia. It might be well to the east
or west of my course, for all I knew and I might be heading for Antarctica.
Not knowing how far away Australia was, I had no idea of how long it would
take to get there and whether my food and water would last that long. On and
on I sailed, always to the south, with no land in sight. The Pacific Ocean is
full of islands, but I hadn't sighted one so far. The weather had been fine
and the sea calm for two weeks. That's why Balboa called the ocean Pacific. He
hadn't seen it in one of its ugly moods.
Of course, my luck didn't last. A day came when the sky clouded up and an
ever-freshening wind began to blow. Soon, it was up to gale force and there
were whitecaps on the waves. It was getting harder to stay on a southerly
course . The storm struck suddenly and violently. The lifeboat bobbed about
like a cork and I couldn't hold any course. I hauled down the sail so as not
to be dismasted and just let the storm have its way. The boat shipped quite a
bit of water, so I was kept busy bailing.
This went on for hours. The wind tore at my clothing, already in sad
condition. It tore the buttons from my shirt which ballooned out behind me and
was blown away, leaving nothing but the useless sleeves on my arms. Most of
the buttons were already gone from my fly and when the last two went, I had to
hold up my pants with my hand. This was so impractical that I took off my
pants and laid them under one of the thwarts .Since I never wore underwear in
the Tropics, I was as naked as the day I was born.
Near sunset, I saw an island dead ahead . It looked like a coral atoll and I
knew that they are usually surrounded by fringing reefs. I was being driven
straight toward it by the wind, still very strong. If I ran aground on a reef,
the boat would be wrecked, but I couldn't row against this wind and I dared
not raise the sail, even if it were possible.
I did run aground on a reef very near the island, but such was the force of
the wind that the boat was blown across the reef, tearing out most of the keel
and the strakes alongside it. Of course, as soon as the boat got into the
water on the other side of the reef, it sank like a rock and I had to swim to
the atoll. There was a sandy beach with some dunes behind it.
By this time, I was pretty well worn out. I dragged myself up the beach
and sank down by the upwind side of one of the dunes. If I had had the
strength to get to the slip side, I'd have had shelter from the wind. It
didn't matter, though. The wind was fairly warm and the rain was much lighter
thsn it had been. I laid on my belly with my forearm under my face and went to
sleep.
I woke on a lovely sunny morning. I got up and pissed into the sand and then
started to walk inland to see if the island was inhabited, when suddenly I
heard proof that it was. From the other side of the dune, I heard panting,
sighing, moaning, all the familiar sounds of lovemaking. I crept around the
dune and saw two young Polynesian men, about 18 or 19 years old. One of them
was standing up with his prick up the ass of the other who was bent from the
waist. My whang immediately stood at attention. I'd had nothing but my hand to
relieve me for about two months.
They saw me and grinned and the one who was taking it up the ass beckoned me
over. I went and stood in front of him. He opened his mouth, put his hands on
my ass and pulled me toward him, taking my stiff rod into his mouth. He really
knew how to suck a cock. I'd been sucked off hundreds of times, but never so
well as he did it. I tried to make the pleasure last and hold my cream back,
but I was too horny, even though I had jerked off every day on the boat. It
wasn't anywhere near as long as I would have wanted before I was spurting my
load of cream down his throat. He ran his thumb along the piss tube on the
underside of my cock to work out the very last drops.
As he hadn't come yet, I squatted down in front of him and took his tool into
my mouth. The other young fellow began fucking faster and harder and the one I
was sucking off suddenly stiffened, shuddered, gave a great cry of delight and
blew his wad into my mouth. The boy fucking his ass also shuddered and with a
great gasp, came.This was my very pleasant welcome to the island of Mokumâhű,
We exchanged hugs and kisses and walked, hand-in-hand over the crest of the
atoll and down toward the lagoon to a village of grass-thatched huts of reed
matting.. As we entered the village, I wondered if I was dreaming or if,
perchance, I had died and gone to heaven. I saw nothing but men and boys
kissing each other, groping each other, jerking
each other off, sucking each other off, and buggering each other. There seemed
to be (and later I learned that there were) no women.
A few men were busy climbing breadfruit trees and palm trees for fruit and
some were taking part in a hukelau in the lagoon. These workers were a
minority. Most of the men and boys were busy enjoying each other's bodies.
Though sometimes I would see a boy suck a man off, never did I see a man
bugger a boy. Boys were supposed to have fun with boys and men with men.
The youths I had enjoyed behind the dune brought me to the headman of the
village. He was tall, naked as everyone else, spectacularly well-hung, and
wore a long flower lei around his neck and a garland of flowers around his
balding head. He appeared to be in his late 30's. He greeted me in Polynesian,
of which I knew maybe a dozen words. I greeted him respectfully in English and
used a couple of my Hawaiian words. He smiled, walked up to me, embraced me,
kissed me, and groped me. I returned his kiss, though he was a much better
kisser than I was, and groped him back. I hoped that was the right thing to
do.
The headman put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down. Of course, I
knew what he wanted. I squatted and took as much as I could of his huge
ule[prick] into my mouth and sucked it as well as I knew how. An old man with
huge balls carried in a sling of netting and wearing a lei also approached is.
Like almost everyone else I saw, his ule was stiff as a crowbar. One of the
young men licked it all over while another lifted me by the hips so that I was
bent over. The old man (some kind of witch doctor, or perhaps a kahuna, I
guessed) put his hands on my hips and proceeded to bugger me with his stiff
old ule.
So I was taking tf at both ends from the two most important men in the
village. The old man gave me one of the best fucks I had ever had. A little
boy who was watching all this, seeing that I was about to come, scooted under
me and took my whang in his mouth just as I spurted my cream. He gobbled it
all down and stood up grinning just as the headman and the witch doctor
unloaded their balls into my mouth and gut. The headman scolded the boy who
gave an answer that made the headman laugh .I later learned that I had been
done a high honor.
The rest of the day was devoted to getting to know the other villagers.
Getting to know them meant kissing, groping, sucking and being sucked. fucking
and being fucked . I was dead on my feet by sunset when the evening meal was
prepared and served. If I hadn't been so hungry (Remember, I'd had nothing but
hardtack and lemons to eat for weeks.) I don't think I could have stayed
awake. "How do they do it ?" I wondered.
Fish and poi and breadfruit and sliced mango made up the meal. The witch
doctor came around with a gourd full of a black liquid. Each man took a drink,
and, as soon as he did, he either got a bone-on if he didn't have one already,
or cream squirted out of his ule. When he got to me, I stared for a moment at
the unappetizing liquid. The men nearby
made a "bottoms up" gesture, so I drank it. It was bitter, but no more so than
Guinness stout. For a moment, I felt nothing, than there was a strange feeling
in my balls, a kind of tingling, sizzling feeling. Instantly, my cock reared
up, hot, hard, and ready. I knew that if I even touched it, I'd come.
A very handsome and well-hung young man came over to me, kissed me, and
gestured to one of the huts. I went with him and we spent
of the night sucking and fucking, that is, he fucked me and sucked me
He didn't want me to fuck or suck him. I had no grounds for complaint.I woke
up feeling as refreshed as if I'd slept all night.
He told me that his name was Uleloa , Long Prick,. Yes.that fitted him well.
He couldn't make anything out of my name, so he called me Huanui, Big Balls.He
tried to explain a lot of things to me, but I just didn't know enough
Polynesian and he didn't know any English.I noticed that the men who did the
cooking, and food gathering had no balls. He tried to explain it to me, but
unsuccessfully.
During the next month, (based on the phases of the Moon) I was invited to take
part in the hukelau twice, but aside from that, it was the same round of
endless sex. I didn't get tired of it, though, I was hornier than I'd ever
been in my life and had a bone-on most of the time, like everyone else.Uleloa
and I lived together, but we both fucked around like alley cats. Sometimes, I
would just sit on a log and watch the little boys learning from experience how
to give each other pleasure.In a way, though, I was lonesome because I
couldn't talk to anyone. I picked up more Polynesian words, but I don't have
much of a head for languages, and I hadn't really learned to speak it.
Then, something new happened. Another white man came into the village, one who
spoke English (of a sort). He was freckle-faced and red-haired and looked
around my age, perhaps a little older, around 30.He greeted me Mokumâhű
fashion, by kissing and groping me. "Me nyme's Nigel Stokes. Oi'm a
shipwrecked sylor loike you. It took these blokes a while to figure aht that
you and Oi speak the syme language. " We both laughed. I'm from New Bedford
and he's from Cheapside and the versions of English we speak are enough
different to explain the confusion
Now, at last, I could get the answers to my questions. I began immediately to
ask them. "Where do these people come from ? Why are there no women (not that
I care about that) ? " "They're orl faggots. The other islands ship their
buggers 'ere. That's why there are no women. Mokumâhű means Faggot Oisland.
Several toimes a year an outrigger comes to the oisland bringin' the men and
boys oo've been caught messin' abaht wiv each other."
"That's interesting" I commented."If I was to get tired of this kind of life ,
do you suppose they'd take me back with them ?" "Oh coo, you carn't do that,
y'know." "Why not ?" "'Ow many toimes have you tyken the witch doctor's potion
?" "Oh, about 6, I guess." "Yer bollocks needs it naow. If you was to stop
tykin' it, they'd wyste away to nuffin'. We carn't ever leave this oisland and
still be men." "Why the hell didn't they tell me that ?" "They did... in
Polynesian."
"Is that what happened to those eunuchs who do the cooking and fruit gathering
?" "Aye, myte. They're orl criminals oo've commited serious croimes like rype
or myming or murder. The 'eadman 'as 'em larcked oop for a month in a sturdy
log 'ut wivout the potion. When they coom aout, they 'ave no bollocks. It's
too lyte then for the potion to do 'em any good."
"Hmm, does this potion have any other effects I don't know about ? "
"Yes, two. "Ow aold do yer think Oi am ?" "Oh, about 30, I guess." "Guess
agyne, kiddy. Oi'm aold enough to be yer aold man. Oi 'ad me sixty-second
birfdye abaht the toime you landed on this oisland. The potion doesn't myke
yer immortal, but it slaows daown yging grytely. There're aold men on the
oisland. Oi'm sure yer've seen 'em carryin' their yuge bollocks in net slings.
The potion mykes yer bollocks graow bigger and bigger for the rest of yer
loife.The bigger yer bollocks are the more sperm they myke. Those old buggers
shoot by the 'arf pint."
"So, how long can I expect to live, barring mishap ?" "Probably abaht yge 120
or so." "And I'll be sexually active all that time ?" "Aow yes ! Yer've got
another 90 years of sookin' and fookin' a'ead of yer." "Well, I can't complain
about that." "Oi should 'ope not."
"Naow we've talked lorng enough. I've been admirin' yer bum and me tool wants
to feel its w'y around in it. Wot d'yer sye ?" "By all means. Do you suck ?"
"Of course, Oi'll do yer roight arfter Oi get rid of me load."
Nigel proved to be very skilled at buggery and I had the Devil's own time
trying to hold my cream in for him. I managed it, though and gave him a
respectable load in return.
Almost needless to say, although I can never leave this island, why on Earth
would I ever want to ?
* * *
` |
XY-n 14 : Armageddon | GAY, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Death & Destruction | All hell breaks loose as Xyn attempts to rescue Jayk. War breaks out, and Xyn is forced to confront who he REALLY is. | ` **_XY-n XIV
Armageddon
Under a Raging Moon_**`
“In the searchlights, you could see us as we circled around. Down below us,
you were screaming, I could hear the sound. I could see your arms, reaching up
to me. Like a Demon, feel the madness running through the crowd. We were
freedom, from the moment that we hit the ground. And the wild man, he laid the
thunder down.
Do you remember me, like I remember you? In a sea of pain, you came shining
through. In the mists of time, I could see it now. All my life I will remember
this, Under a Raging Moon. For this Moment, I was born for it, under a raging
moon. Under a raging moon. We were flying there, we saw us dying there, it
ended all too soon. Under a raging moon.
We were out there, when they handed us the rebels’ crown. All the headlines,
all they try to do is tear us down. But the wild man, he didn’t fool around.
Do you remember me? ‘Cause I remember you. Yea you want my blood, when the
dream came true. When my blood ran high, I could hear it now. All my life I
will remember this, Under a raging moon. For this moment I was born for it,
under a raging moon. Under a raging moon. We were flying, boy. It’s worth
dying for, it ended all too soon. Under a raging moon Under a raging moon.
Takin’ me back to better times, we never read the danger signs. Why are the
young … why are the young so blind?
Do you remember me? ‘Cause I remember you. Yea you want my blood, when my
dream came true. All my life I will remember this … Under a raging moon …”
-Roger Daltrey, __Under a Raging Moon__ , 1985, The Title Track.
**I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End ... Surely I come
quickly. – Jesus Christ, the final few words of the Book of Revelations, The
Holy Bible, KJV.**
_I_
_The Angel Breaks the First Seal_
Rick Abrams stared out of the window of his office in disbelief. He sipped at
his coffee, watching the fat man making his way up the walk under the bright
security lights. It was very late, near Midnight, in fact, but Abrams already
knew that it was going to be one of those many sleepless nights that came with
his job. Shaking his head, he punched a button on the intercom system to alert
the reprogrammed Carebots. The last thing that he needed, with the new
security measures in place, was for a well meaning but armed Carebot to shoot
the Dealer.
“Admit visitor,” he ordered.
“Authorization overridden,” a slightly mechanical voice replied, “Visitor has
issued security clearance Level 1 pass codes.”
Abrams nearly dropped his coffee.
“Clarify!” He ordered, not believing what he had just heard as the door to his
office slid open to admit Acer the Dealer.
“Verified,” the Carebot replied.
“Of course I am!” The Dealer chuckled.
Abrams leaned back, trying to look casual. He closed the channel.
“Level 1? You’re moving up in the world,” he said calmly, “And keeping strange
hours.”
Acer smiled at him. “I get around, and I always have.” Then he laughed. It was
an evil sound. “And I know that YOU only have Level 2 clearance, Ricky ol’
boy.”
“Don’t call me ‘Ricky’”
The Dealer laughed again. “Oh come now, we go back, you and I. You need to see
this, Abrams,” he said in low voice, reaching into his overcoat.
Abrams nodded and the lights dimmed. The lock of the door slid into place, and
the Network terminal went dark. The shades to the window closed, and Abrams
nodded again. Acer handed him an antique video recording camera with a small
screen on the back.
“This poor old dear still works after all this time,” he advised, “And it’s
untraceable. I recorded a chat I had with a certain, ah, employer of mine last
night about some problems we’re having. We, no, I should say problems that
YOU’RE having, Abrams. I did MY part long ago, about fourteen or fifteen
Cycles ago, in fact. Watch this and think about what you’re going to do.”
“Your cheap theatrics don’t impress me, Dealer,” Abrams replied hotly,
snatching the old video camera from his chubby hands.
“I told you it was about Xyn,” the Dealer retorted, “And I’m doing this as a
favor to you for all the business we’ve done in the past. Professional
courtesy, I guess. I’d say it was out of friendship, but since I don’t have
any friends, I won’t. We’ve woven a tangled web here, Abrams, so just watch
the bloody video!”
Confused, Abrams hit the PLAY button and watched the tiny screen of the non-
Networked camera. The room was secure, of course, he knew, but that didn’t
keep him from worrying. He watched and listened to the man in the black suit
on the screen, occasionally glancing up at the Dealer with a lost look on his
ashen face. When it was finished, Abrams played it again and Acer got up and
made himself some coffee.
“Domestic?” he asked, sniffing the coffee and wrinkling his nose as the video
played.
“Columbian,” Abrams replied in a dead voice, shaking his head. He was still
staring at the tiny screen of the ancient video camera, unable to believe what
he was seeing and hearing. He turned the volume up.
“Bad year for the Southern Continents,” he commented, sipping it and making a
face.
**”We need N-32 NOW!”** The man in black was saying on the recording.
When it was finished, Rick Abrams gently laid the camera down and folded his
arms on the desk. He sank his head down, resting it on them, and after a
moment he began to sob. The Dealer said nothing, sipping at his coffee and
allowing him the moment.
When Abrams finally looked up, Acer had finished his second cup of coffee and
was reading some printouts. Rick’s eyes were red and his face colorless. He
was trembling and shaking his head, and it felt like hours had passed.
“It explains a great deal of things,” the Dealer began. “All of those requests
you made to clone little Xyn from those stolen blood samples, refused. Now you
know why. Now you know why they wouldn’t let you buy him for your own. Did you
even think about trying for another little XY, or maybe a Parted-out one? I
could have cut you a great deal on Replacement Parts.”
Abrams slowly shook his head. “I never wanted another one. Only him. Did I
fall asleep?”
“No. But I’m not surprised. You were just in shock, I think. That fellow on
the video is enough to shock anyone. He’ll probably want me dead now, but then
again, so do a lot of people.”
Abrams slowly got to his feet. “I’m glad they refused me my clone requests
now. He wasn’t a waste of Resources after all. He wasn’t just ordinary, like
they said. He was so much more! He IS so much more! And yes, I get the
picture. You’re mysterious friend was practically screaming the word ‘clone’
there. You can’t clone a clone and expect it to live for long.”
“True,” the Dealer agreed, “We tried that once, just to see what would happen.
Ghastly.”
“You would,” Abrams replied.
Acer scratched his head in thought. “You still don’t get it do you? That’s
part of the problem. Even though the process was perfected long ago, there’s
still a great deal of public concern over cloning. Oh, growing some Parts here
and there in tanks is one thing, everyone is all for that, but when you start
building custom-made little ones, they get all bitchy about it.”
“So Xyn’s a clone, who cares? He’s a healthy one, and he’s a real person, no
matter what the extremists think! Why do people hate clones so much? You can’t
even tell if someone’s a clone unless you do a deep DNA scan. Even our medical
staff here doesn’t have the equipment to verify that, beyond reasonable doubt.
You’d have thought that after the BioWars, that such nonsense would have died
out with stupid little things like racism or sexual orientation. I can see the
problem though. I wouldn’t want to be exposed as a clone. Not in this day and
age.”
“You’re not getting the big picture here, Rick. Prejudice IS alive and well,
still. It just went from race or sexual preference to Approved or not, and to
clone or not. There’s a lot of anti-Government sentiment out there right now.
They want reform, they want change! The News is full of it. Here, let me see
that. Looks like I’m going to have to explain it to you after all.”
Acer rewound the old video and watched it, nodding. He paused it and handed it
back to Abrams, who pressed the play button.
**”… and if it takes a _new_ Mutant Kadens to do it …”**
The Dealer watched as Abrams face lost all expression. “You don’t mean …” he
gasped in shock, “But, but that was so long ago! They’re willing to go that
far?”
The fat man nodded.
“They already did. Yes, Rick, our young Xyn IS a clone. And not just any old
clone. He’s Kadens the Unifier reborn, right down to the last strands of
adenine and cytosine.”
Abrams stopped pacing, almost as if he’d been slapped.
“Oh gods,” Abrams breathed, “I didn’t realize … he said that, on the video …
but if Xyn is … if he’s really … then the original Unifier was … Kadens was
really a …” Words, however, failed him.
Acer nodded gravely. “He is. I can assure you of that. That’s why they want
him so badly. I want him. You want him. The Hunter wants him. And the Mutants
HAVE him.”
Abrams shook his head, still trying to deny it. “You make it sound like Xyn is
some sort of … the next …” He groped for a word, but held out his hands for
lack of finding any.
“Messiah?” The Dealer offered.
There was a long silence as both men thought.
“I can’t bear it,” Abrams finally sighed, dropping back into his chair. “I’ve
done this for years. I’ve seen little ones Parted out, mutilated, adopted, and
even watched them die. I was always detached, until Xyn. I broke the rules,
Acer. I bonded with him. I love him. Now he’s gone, out there somewhere, in a
World that’s falling apart.”
“I see,” Acer replied. “I’m not surprised that you feel that way. It’s part of
what he does, who he is. WHAT he is. Do you see why there were never any Parts
requisitions from Xyn, then? Why he always had the very best Suits, the best
food, and the best of care? Or why other little ones in his Ward got Parted
out until there was nothing left of them while he remained intact?”
“I thought that it was my all doing,” Abrams replied, “I was trying to protect
him.”
“We let you think that,” the Dealer replied. “We couldn’t have our Masterpiece
being Parted out on us or taken home by someone, even you. He was – he IS –
too important. Although looking back, maybe THAT would have been best.”
“You have some very powerful friends, you know,” Abrams snapped. “I think it’s
time you told me everything.”
“I thought that that was what I was just doing,” the Dealer replied.
“ALL of it,” Abrams demanded, “Or you won’t walk out of here alive!”
Acer laughed. “You wouldn’t dare! I know you shot down a visitors’ craft
coming in today. Nice new security measures for our modern World! Want to tell
me about that one as well?”
Abrams face was growing red with anger. “I had nothing to do with that!”
“Of course not. I believe you. Someone did, though, and I know who and why.
I’ll even tell you, my friend. Had that craft not been shot down by your new
defenses here, you’d be entertaining the Hunter right now and not me.”
Abrams thought about it for a moment, but his mind kept wandering back to Xyn.
He tried to imagine what he looked like, after being gone for so long.
Certainly he would have grown. But all that Rick Abrams could remember was a
little XY, not a young one, who wore a white Suit and had no hair and loved to
cuddle, read stories; a little one who dreamed of simple little things like
going outside or having a real home and family. “Tell me everything you know
about this whole bloody mess, Dealer, or I’ll slit your fat throat. Or maybe
worse. I know for a fact that one of my little XY’s here is a Mutant. I know
what HE can do. Maybe I’ll just turn HIM loose on you.”
Acer made himself more coffee and sat back down with a heavy sigh. “You’re
sure this room is secure?” he asked.
Abrams nodded.
“Want to sell him?”
“Out with it!” Abrams demanded, reaching into his desk drawer.
“Very well,” he began, “You deserve that much for being, if nothing else, an
excellent supplier for me. That’s also a factor in the tale, but I’ll put it
in a nutshell. As a Dealer, I have a lot of contacts. Hunters and even plain
old Unapproveds bring me little ones to sell off for them. I pay well, because
I can. I like to deal in XY’s, there’s more profit in it. I usually geld them
and sell them off as slaves, and then resell the XY-Parts. There’s a HUGE
market for those, but then again you already know that. There’s a huge market
for Parts of all kinds, but the Defects in XY-Approveds are getting worse and
worse with time.”
Acer took a long drink and crossed his legs as he got comfortable. It was not
an attractive pose. “So,” he continued, “I was doing a fine business when one
night an Adult in a black suit shows up at the Club that I run below my REAL
shop. He slipped the guard a very impressive chunk of change to see me, and
when he left … well … let’s just say I had made a new connection. He left me
with a tiny Cryo-container of cellular matter, a very small amount. There were
directions on what kind of XX to find to impregnate with it, and certain
chemicals to inject her with before and after conception. There were also
orders on where to bring her when she was due, in fact, right at the onset of
labor! They were really cutting it close!
“So I find this XX, and I do the deed. I pay her off, and of course she’s very
willing to have a little one. I didn’t bother to tell her, in fact, I wasn’t
totally sure, but I’m not stupid. I’d dabbled in the cloning market before,
and I know Repli-Xk-4 when I smell it. The cellular matter to impregnate her
with just reeked of it. Stout one, I have to say. She called me up one night
near term, a bit early, and said that it was time. I picked her up, brought
her to the Club, and damned if the same man in the black suit wasn’t there
with some of his bullyboys waiting for us! We then delivered her of a bouncing
baby XY.”
The Dealer paused. Abrams waited patiently, his anger ebbing as he thought
about it. He just knew how this story was going to end, and who the baby had
really been.
“What happened next,” Acer continued, “Shocked even me. I was just getting the
little tyke all cleaned up when one of the goons comes over and injects him
with something. He screamed like the dickens, and then he just stopped and
opened his eyes. It was almost as if he knew what were going on. His little
eyebrows rose up, then his eyes just went blank. I turned him away then,
because I saw one of them pulling out another hypo. He injected her, Abrams,
and she was dead before the spray finished hissing! Then her body sort of
began to shrink up, and minutes later, there was just an empty dress full of
dust on my table and no sign of her! Made my blood freeze, I can tell you. The
next thing I know, they’re scanning the baby and taking blood and injecting
him with something else. They gave me several containers of special food for
him, and I was instructed to keep him for one week. If he lived, I was to
bring him here and leave him on your doorstep. And of course, I was paid
again. I think you know the rest of the story.”
Rick Abrams nodded and leaned back in his chair. “You left the infant Xyn on
my doorstep and somehow erased the memory of the Carebot who found him there.
I suppose they gave you something to do that with, too?”
The Dealer nodded. “Simple little toy. From there on out, I was out the loop.
Oh, they called me now and then, before they started spying on you. They also
like to buy information, of which I have plenty. You’ve been monitored, Rick,
ol’ boy, I hate to say. I’ve had visits and progress reports, and I always let
my employers know how little Xyn was doing as he grew up in here. They’re very
impressed with you, which also explains your fast rise in the Facility
business. I think you’ve got a job promotion coming, as well. The World’s
falling apart, as you said.”
“I know,” Abrams answered in a dull tone, “The World’s falling apart and the
Savior has just left town. They built a boy to save us all AGAIN, and I lost
him. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Acer smiled at him. “’Boy.’ There’s a word you don’t hear too often anymore.
But yet, Xyn IS a boy, and they’re very interested in that. You’ll remember
our friend in black who said that the hereditary line of the Unifier is dying
out due to Defects. It also explains the original rise of the first Kadens,
Rick. Think about it. We know that our young Xyn was a Psion Mutant.”
Abram’s jaw dropped.
Acer laughed. “Oh come now! Don’t tell me you thought that you’d kept THAT a
secret? They knew, Rick, they WANTED a Mutant! In fact, it wouldn’t surprise
me if they KNEW how to make Mutants intentionally! One shot of this, a little
shot of that, a germ here, a virus there, the body fights back, a few drugs, a
bit of genetic manipulation … and what if – just suppose – what IF the
original Kadens was a Mutant? One of the first? The man who saved the World
from the BioGenic Wars, the first Mutant?”
“Go on,” Abrams replied, not following his thinking.
“The World hates Mutants. They have Hunters bringing them in! They sterilize
them; they don’t allow Upgrades for them. They make them live in the Old
Cities, or they Exterminate them. Life lasts a LONG time for Approveds, with
Maintenance, but it only lasts thirty Cycles or so for a Mutant. How many
Approved Mutants do YOU know? I don’t know of any, except for maybe ONE. Most
of the time, they end up in MY workshop and are sold as slaves. I don’t know
if that’s worse, death or slavery – especially for the XY’s who come in the
door in one piece and go out as e-XY’s.
“Anyway, what if the Authority Itself, under Kadens and his Descendents in
Power, knew this? Everyone loved Kadens, he just took over! No one resisted
him; he was so sensible and likeable. Here he comes, and he saves the World!
He puts it all back together, and here we are now. But that was a while back.
If they knew about Mutants then, they wouldn’t want a whole crop of them
running around loose, now, would they? That might be seen as a threat to their
own power. So the Authority rounds them all up while the Approveds live out
life in Kadens’ dream Society?”
Abrams nodded. “It makes sense. They probably didn’t foresee all of this,
where it all led. I’d imagine they figured that they’d eliminate the families
carrying Mutations and Exterminate the strays afterwards. But the Mutants kept
increasing in numbers after the BioWars were finally finished. Lots of odd
things happening back then. Too many people couldn’t keep up, and the class
split just got worse and worse. Those who didn’t want to live the life that
Kadens planned for them were left behind, and became Unapproveds. So they
tried to make a new Kadens to fix it all again.”
“They only did that after, as they say, Plan A failed them.”
“What?!” Abrams exclaimed, “You mean that building Xyn from the leftovers of
Kadens the Unifier was a fallback plan?”
Acer nodded. “Some time ago, I noticed a very strange customer. It was almost
before your time, but not quite. His name was Duncan … Alfred Duncan. He
started buying a lot of Parts – Bio and Cyber both. They were all for a little
XY, his son, he claimed. I had no clue at the time, but the man had the money,
Rick. Finally, he comes to me one night and asks if I know anyone willing to
take some chances. I asked him why, and he showed me some video of his little
XY. Most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen,” the Dealer shuddered.
Abrams was surprised. Nothing bothered Acer.
“So I set him up with a rather brilliant fellow who was bothering me about
making some deals. I worked with him for a long time, taking little XY’s in
trade from him. He wanted hardware, and I got it for him. It was equitable
trade, and HE took a look at little Duncan-2 for me. This Alfred fellow, witty
University type – hate those, you know – brought the poor thing in and this
other customer, what was his name?”
“I can’t believe this,” Abrams interrupted. “How does this relate to me, or
Xyn? Or me getting him back safely?”
“I’m getting there,” Acer grumbled. “Make us some more of that nasty coffee,
for gods’ sake, so I can think! I missed dinner you know.”
“You’ll live,” Abrams retorted, filling the pot with water and starting it.
“His name …” the Dealer thought. Then finally, it came to him.
“Kel!” He exclaimed, snapping his fingers, “Frightening fellow, Approved,
University educated, had a ghastly cybernetic eye, too. Unforgettable. So this
Kel fellow works on little Duncan-2 for a bit. I couldn’t watch, Rick. It was
hideous. There comes a time when you just have to let them go. You reach a
point where Upgrading and Maintenance simply can’t fix them anymore. Poor
little Duncan-2 was more machine than human. It made me sick. This Kel had
neither morals nor ethics. He was so driven, and frankly, I didn’t understand
it. I’d have let the poor little XY go with some peace, but Kel just kept
working on him, and with his father’s approval at that! I never found out what
he was up to, though. It just escapes me, and not much does that.”
“You?” Abrams asked in wonder, “Shocked? YOU, feeling sorry for a little one?”
“I’m not all bad,” the Dealer replied in mock innocence. Then his fat face
darkened. “Kel crossed lines that were never meant to be crossed, Rick. He and
the father, Alfred, both of them! There were huge payoffs: merchandise, money,
you name it. Then they both vanished without a trace after some huge crisis at
the University. Then the man in the black suit showed up in my office with his
offers. It’s very strange. He always seemed to know when to come, and little
Xyn just hated him. Cried and cried until he left. Makes me wonder.”
“Him again?” Abrams observed calmly, pouring more coffee and passing the fat
man a cup.
Acer nodded. “Thanks. Where was I? Oh, yes. The fellow in the black suit, the
one with the tools and blueprints to create our Xyn, informs me that they were
trying to build a new Kadens that way. It seems that this Alfred, an operative
of theirs who spied on the Upper Class Approveds, was working with his
University connections to try and design the ultimate, the PEFECT Leader who
would solve all of Society’s problems. The problems always seem to begin with
the bored wealthy class of Approveds.”
Acer paused and sipped his coffee.
“Well?!” Abrams demanded, “What happened to this little Cyber-Warrior they
were building to take over the World?”
Acer shrugged. “He died.”
“That’s it?”
Acer nodded. “His body couldn’t take what they were doing to it, trying to
rewire his DNA and the constant Implants. Just up and died one night. I assume
they Recycled him, but I never saw him again. By then, Kel was long gone with
his payoffs too. I didn’t know whatever became of him, but last I heard, he
was in the Old City collecting Mutants. Now this is where it gets sticky,
Ricky ol’ boy. Brace yourself.”
Abrams nodded. “Nothing you could say would surprise me now,” he commented.
“Don’t be so sure. Remember, I’m batting for several teams here. I’m playing
so many different games that I sometimes pay off the wrong person on the wrong
day and buy the wrong goods! It’s a mess! Several Cycles later, though, this
Kel calls me up. He’s on some untraceable communications channel, and this was
about the time that the Comm-Tell satellite system went to hell. I think we
can safely blame that one on him, too. But he gives me this story that he’s
going to bring me a Mutant, a little XY. Claims that he’s going to be a real
prize, like nothing I’ve ever seen before and do I have the means to hold
him?”
“What did he want that time?” Abrams asked.
“He wanted more money, more hardware. Then Transport ships began to go
missing. We’ve lost what, ten of them now? Three or four in the East and six
or seven in the West? And all of them going down in the Ruins? What the hell
is in the Ruins? Everything dies in there, right?”
“Except for Mutants, an occasional lucky rat, and a very few hardy Approveds
with a LOT of help,” Abrams gasped, snapping his fingers. Then he looked down
at the floor. “Xyn’s in there,” he whispered.
“My point exactly,” the Dealer replied, “Xyn is a Mutant. Kel was collecting
Mutants. AND he was a genius in Cybernetics and from what I saw of little
Duncan-2, Bioengineering as well. He claims that he’s going to bring me a
prize, so I get ready. I never heard from him again. But why all the Mutants?”
“I don’t get it,” Abrams replied, “I’ve been too busy with the Hunter and my
job and I worry about Xyn since he’s missing in the Ruins and … gods, NO!” He
screamed.
The Dealer nodded gravely. “I got his call after your big impossible fire.
Let’s suppose Kel had a Pyro Mutant, rare of course, in his Gang. Your
Facility burnt, Xyn comes up missing, and Kel calls me - promising me the
moon, so to say. Then you get in on the act and send THE Hunter out after Xyn.
It all fits. Then I get this call the other night from my friend who likes
black clothes.”
Abrams was shaking in rage. He threw his coffee mug across the room, and it
shattered upon impact. “If he were alive, I’d kill him!” He roared, looking
for something else to break.
“Excuse me, but how do we know Kel’s dead?” Acer asked sweetly.
“Because someone named Jayk killed him,” Abrams replied hotly, “The Hunter
mentioned it in his last communication, and he had to have told you, too. He
caught a Runaway slave instead of Xyn, and legally, he had to take him back to
his Master. Someone named Wilson in Far South. Then he vanished.”
“Gods, man, did you say ‘Wilson’? Ev Wilson?”
“I think that was the name, yes, why?” Abrams asked in confusion.
Acer was laughing. “I love it when a plan comes together, OR unravels!” he
chortled, spilling some of the coffee. “And yes, I knew it already. My, my,
but this is a grand mess!”
“I should have known that YOU would be on the sly with The Hunter,” Abrams
groaned.
“Oh it’s too good! You see, The Hunter showed me this Jayk, the Mutant who
killed Kel. He’s a Slow-Beast Mutant.”
Abrams whistled. “Impossible! They haven’t documented a real Beast Mutant in
over 300 Cycles!”
“Yes, he is! And absolutely beautiful, I might add! An e-XY, looks 14 or 15
Cycles at the most, and very old! Smooth cut, too. Dark skin, fangs, pointy
ears. The works! Worth a screaming fortune, I might add. And The Hunter
mentioned …”
“… that Jayk found Xyn in the Ruins and the Gangs left him behind when he went
Beast on them and killed your Kel friend,” Abrams concluded for him.
Acer nodded in agreement. “I see you’ve gotten some of the story.”
“More than I wanted to know,” Abrams replied, his anger rising. “If that Beast
harmed Xyn …”
“He didn’t harm him, Rick. He loves him. And Xyn loves him in return. In fact,
that’s why it’s all so grand!”
“What so damn grand about it?”
“Jayk is owned by Ev Wilson, the man whom Alfred Duncan was working for.”
Abrams looked confused again. “Working for him?”
“Butler, in fact. A spy. Alfred Duncan was, recall, an operative who was
working on spying on the Upper Classes, which Wilson is the very definition
of! The Hunter took Jayk back to Wilson, and he met Duncan. Then Duncan, who
was obviously hiding in obscurity with his little Leader-to-be, tried to kill
the Hunter. Of course, the little fellow was already dead by now, but Alfred
Duncan was still there after all those years of hiding. And now I know why!”
“Why?”
“Because I told them that the Hunter had gone soft and could not be trusted.
Operatives are everywhere, Rick. They obviously made big news of The Hunter.
He was in love with that Jayk character he brought in. He so much as told me.
If THAT leaked out, well …”
Abrams sighed and shook his head. “That craft he lost cost me a fortune,” he
moaned. “You’re going to get killed at this, Acer.”
The fat man laughed again. “But don’t you see? It’s just a stroke of Divine
intervention, or random chance – take your pick – that Jayk, who loves Xyn,
wound up with Wilson. The Hunter might have started to catch on, and now
there’s dissention in the ranks! Operatives knocking off Hunters? It’
perfect!” The Dealer laughed again until he was wheezing. When he settled
down, he went on.
“Poor old Wilson. He’s in for a shock! He’s got Jayk back, and from what the
Hunter told me and what I can piece together, he’s the perfect bait!”
Abrams face paled again. He nodded slowly. “If what you say is true, then Xyn
will go after Jayk, who is still with Wilson. Alfred, the spy, might have
known this, so he stayed. Enter the Hunter, and Alfred tries to kill him on
orders from the Government. Alfred wanted Xyn, so did the Hunter, because I
did. With Alfred being there, the Authority wouldn’t be far behind. In fact,
they might be watching Wilson’s place because of the Hunter’s death! Oh my,
Wilson WILL get a shock if Xyn comes back for Jayk and the others know about
it!”
Acer nodded. “Very good, Rick! You can expect Xyn to come for Jayk, and the
Authority to come after Xyn. Maybe even a small army from the Authority, with
Government aid. But the Hunter isn’t dead. He called me. So he might yet crash
their party as well. Any way you call it, Wilson’s in for a bad day pretty
soon!”
“Gods,” Abrams breathed.
“I mentioned that earlier. The Hunter WAS coming here, to see you. Weren’t you
paying attention?”
“The defenses weren’t my call,” Abrams explained. “There were three others in
that craft coming in. I thought it was a horrible accident!”
“So someone in your seniority shot down the Hunter. They knew that he was
coming back, and without Xyn. Perhaps they also know that HE wants Xyn too.”
“He’s working for me,” Abrams objected.
“Don’t delude yourself, Rick. Everyone wants Xyn, for various reasons. Do you
really think that the Hunter would have given him back to YOU?”
Abrams’ eyes went wide again. “But what would he do with him?”
Acer shrugged. “I know far too much as it is, Rick. I don’t expect to live
much longer because of that fact. I just wanted you to know is all. My guess,
and it’s only a guess, is that he’d take Xyn back to Jayk, or run off
somewhere with the both of them and live happily ever after.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s what I’d do,” Acer replied in a whisper.
Then the Dealer looked away at the closed window. His face was strange, as if
he were looking through the shades and off into the distance as morning
approached. They had talked almost all night.
“What have I done?” he asked of Abrams, as if seeking absolution. “I helped
them to create Xyn, their Savior, as it were. I played a hand in the attempt
to build a new Leader with little Duncan-2, the Defective little son of an
operative for the Government. I’ve bought and sold and cut hundreds of little
Unapproved XY’s. It’s all come full circle, Rick. Even Xyn came full circle,
since Kel almost got him, and would have, were it not for this Jayk character
whom Xyn has fallen in love with! It’s all so amazing! It almost makes me
melancholy to think about it, after all I’ve done.”
“And NOW you get maudlin on me?” Abrams wondered.
The Dealer laughed. Somewhere outside came a low, muffled sound.
“Oh, they won’t get Xyn,” the Dealer mused. “They’ll never get him.”
“I’m glad YOU think so,” Abrams disagreed, “Since it seems that everyone wants
him so badly. If the Government is working with the Authority to watch
Wilson’s place, if somehow they know that Xyn is coming for Jayk, then all
hell is going to break loose. What chance does a young one like him stand
against an army?”
Acer laughed again. “My last gift to you,” he said softly, sipping at the last
of the coffee. “This is really terrible you know. Anyway, in my last talk with
the Hunter, he said that someone had made an attempt on Xyn’s life. Of course,
they weren’t really trying to kill him, just subdue him. The Government is
desperate to get him back, and they don’t want him harmed. I suppose they
can’t make another Xyn, or another Kadens – if you will. I really think that
somehow, Xyn’s the last of the line, and he’s a clone. He can’t be copied, you
know. Somehow they got spies into the Ruins and they almost had Xyn. It seems
that some of his Mutant friends in there destroyed them. For the last several
weeks, a small voice has been whispering at me in my dreams. It isn’t Xyn, but
it’s someone very close to him. Xyn has changed, Rick. He’s growing up. You
hid his status as a Psion Mutant from everyone who didn’t already know, but
that’s what they want. They want Xyn Psion, the new Kadens, at any cost.
“They’re going to be coming for him, but what they don’t know is that Xyn is
coming for them as well. He’s not the sweet little XY you once snuggled on
your lap, my friend. He’s a warrior now, driven by grief and loss and anger.
He’s also very, very powerful. The Hunter is a Psion Mutant too, the best so
far.”
Again, the Dealer paused.
Somewhere, there was another muffled explosion. The coffee mug on the table
rattled.
“The Government took The Hunter when he was quite young. They made him what he
is today – a childless and bitter man from a loving family that he never sees.
He was to be their ultimate weapon, to aid the new Kadens. Once they got him
built, that is. A Psionic bodyguard who’d love the little Psionic Leader as
his own son. Perfect fit, if you think about it. From his background, the
Hunter would eventually want a little one of his own, and Xyn – an Orphan -
would need protection. But now the Mutants have Xyn, and all of their hopes.
They won’t get him back, though, because Xyn’s better than the Hunter. The
Hunter knows this, and he doesn’t want to catch Xyn. Or in the very least, not
give him back if he does.” Then the Dealer laughed. ‘Ironic. They were made
for each other, or so they tell me, and now he’s out looking for him on YOUR
orders.”
Suddenly the building shook. Both men jumped. Abrams triggered the intercom,
but it was dead. The lights dimmed and buzzed, then went out. Small emergency
lights came on, but Acer didn’t move.
“Don’t worry,” he said, waving a hand nonchalantly as Abrams tried to
ascertain what was going on, “He won’t harm him. I think the Hunter’s tired of
the game. Hell, we all are. He’ll probably kill me, I’d imagine, since he
thinks the worst of me now. I’m a bad man, Rick. I admit that I tried to play
both sides, and in the end, the World may suffer for it. It all depends on
what kind of Adult, no, what kind of MAN our young Xyn grows up to be.”
Abrams was still fighting with the communications systems and the Network
terminal when the door to the room blew out. There was a smell of burning
metal and wiring drifting in from the hallway, and a little XY stepped through
the door. He had flaming red hair and freckles across his nose. His tunic was
scorched and ragged, and he was dirty and smelled of smoke. There were tracks
down his cheeks in the grime on his face, made by his tears as he strode into
the room. He glared at Abrams, who shoved the small video recorder into his
pocket and reached into his desk drawer.
“Where’s my brother?” he demanded in a dangerous tone.
“H2?” Abrams blinked, taking a moment to recognize him, “What are YOU doing
here? Where are your parents? How did you get in?”
“He used this for a fucking key!” The Hunter bellowed, firing his blaster at
Abrams. The desk exploded into a thousand pieces, and Abrams jumped back.
“You shot down our craft!” Edward IV, formerly known as H2, accused. “We were
comin’ to get ‘R’ and buy him and you shot at us! You killed my mom and dad!”
“I did no such thing!” Abrams choked, waving at the smoke.
“Hello, Hunter,” Acer chimed in, not bothering to get up, “I’ve been expecting
you.”
“You!’ The Hunter growled, aiming his weapon at the fat man who still sipped
at his coffee.
“Oh, yes, shoot me. I deserve it. I was just telling ol’ Ricky here how bad of
a man I’ve been, and all about our young Xyn too. I hope you find him first,
Hunter. Find him and take him away before the Government does. You know where
he is, and where he’s going. You really need to get there first.”
“I don’t want your lies, Dealer. I’ve had enough of you. You’re not getting
Xyn, I am. And YOU,” he demanded of Abrams, “I want the little XY called ‘R’,
now! Eddie’s very upset, since he just got a new family and had to watch them
die earlier today. You and I and the little ones are leaving then. I’m sure
you’ve got a suitable craft here somewhere, and I want it! As for the Dealer,
well … He’s cut his last little XY.”
And with that, the Hunter leveled his weapon at the fat man. Acer the Dealer
met his gaze and nodded. Then he looked at the tear-streaked face of Edward
IV. “Rick, when and if you ever get to a WorldBank, mention my name and use
the password ‘Xyn-32’. In some small way, perhaps I can pay for my sins after
all. Have a Maintenance, on me.”
The Hunter squeezed the trigger, and the fat man instantly exploded into
thousands of bloody, smoking bits and pieces of quivering flesh. A smell of
scorched meat filled the room. Abrams turned his head and became violently
ill.
“Rat me out, you son of a bitch,” The Hunter grumbled.
“Oh gods,” Abrams mumbled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Good to see you again, Abrams,” The Hunter commented. “Although your
welcoming party left much to be desired. We need to have words. Now.”
“I had nothing to do with it, Hunter. You, as a Psion, should KNOW what I
want! Damn you! We DO need to talk, and fast!”
“Are you gonna shoot him too?” Edward IV asked in a sick tone, staring at the
smoking remains of the Dealer with a great deal of interest.
The Hunter focused his Psi upon Abrams then, and shook his head. “No, he’s not
lying. He had nothing to do with the attack on us. He’s scared, and he’s in
shock. He wants Xyn, but not for any bad reasons,” he explained to the little
one. “Besides, there’s some thing stored on some chips I’ve got that he might
be able to play back for me.”
Abrams went to the little one slowly, picked him up and hugged him. “I’m so
sorry, H2 … I mean, Edward. Some bad people think that the Facility needs
protection now, and they don’t like the Hunter anymore. They think he’s doing
something bad, or that someone else out there in this mad World will. Tell you
what, let’s go get ‘R’, secure the rest of the little ones, and we’ll go.
How’s that?”
Edward wiped his eyes and nodded. “We had to shoot up a couple of ‘bots on the
way in, though,” he explained, “They didn’t like us.”
“I’ll fix it, I hope,” Abrams explained. He then began to tell the Hunter what
Acer had told him. He held up the old video camera, small and lightweight. By
the time they had reached a functioning Terminal, the Hunter was shaking his
head in disbelief and staring at the video of the man in the black suit.
Abrams entered a few commands, as was relieved that they still worked. He ran
a reboot sequence for all remaining Carebots on duty, and summoned one to
bring ‘R’ and an extra Suit to something called “Exit Zero.”
“You did say ‘R’, correct?” Abrams asked.
Edward nodded gravely. “We were gonna buy him,” he said sadly.
Abrams smiled and tussled his thick, red hair. “I always wondered what color
your hair would be,” he mused, “And it just had to be ‘R’, didn’t it? I’m so
glad. If they found him here, found out, they’d kill him, too.”
“Why?” Edward asked innocently.
“Because he’s a Mutant,” Abrams replied gravely.
“What’s a Mutant?” Edward asked.
“Someone who can do things with his Mind or body that not everyone can,”
Abrams replied.
“You mean like N was?”
Abrams jaw dropped.
“WE all knew it,” Edward replied smugly. _He even showed me how to do it._
“That’s enough, Eddie. I can’t believe that Acer is responsible for all of
this,” The Hunter said as they made their way down the halls and took the
stairs downwards and through more halls. Not all of the lights were working
again, and Edward clung to Abrams’ hand tightly. In moments, they were lost
and simply following Abrams.
A Carebot was waiting with the little one called ‘R’ and a new Suit when the
finally arrived at the hidden exit.
“This is highly unusual, Director,” the robot stated, holding ‘R’s’ hand. The
little XY was bald, and his skin was darker than Edward’s. They smiled at each
other. ‘R’ had a black patch over where his right eye should have been, and
his tight white Suit gave evidence to the fact that he was missing his XY-
Parts. He started forward, but the robot didn’t release him.
“We’ll be going now,” Abrams told it, “Thank you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” said a strange voice on the intercom system.
“This Facility is now under lockdown, and you, Director Abrams, are under
arrest for aiding and abetting a know Mutant sympathizer. Surrender to the
Carebots and return the Inmate R-32 to us and no one will be harmed.”
“Liar,” Abrams disagreed.
“Oh, I’m scared now,” the Hunter replied sarcastically. “You people can’t stop
me, you know.”
The voice on the speakers paused. “We don’t want to have to try. We need you.
We want you. We need N-32 and you can help us. AND him.”
The Hunter smiled and took careful aim with his blaster, but ‘R’ shook his
bald head. He glared at the Carebot holding him, and it suddenly exploded into
thousands of fragments. ‘R’ ran towards Abrams, but the Hunter caught him up.
“Hang on,” he advised, and blasted the door into nothingness. Dim light poured
into the smoky hallway.
_Cool!_ The Hunter heard Edward send to ‘R’, who giggled.
“We’re losing the darkness,” the Hunter stated in disgust.
Abrams stopped only long enough to pick up the spare Suit that the Carebot had
brought with ‘R’. Once outside, he sat Edward down and roughly pulled off his
ragged tunic and dirty little shoes. He shook the Suit out, and it enveloped
the naked and intact little XY instantly, hissing and beeping as it adapted
and interfaced to his Approved and Upgraded body and began to clean and
supplement him. The hood came up and went back down, the gloves extended over
his dirty hands, and the facemask closed for a second before popping back
open. It shifted from white to blue and back in a second. Abrams nodded in
satisfaction and scooped him up again. They ran towards the fence as alarms
began to sound.
“I think someone is on to us,” The Hunter commented, “Where is that guy,
anyway?”
“I have no idea. He can’t be in the building, or I’d know about it,” Abrams
muttered, pointing to a small outbuilding by the fence. “In there.
Technically, that shed’s not here. I keep a few things in there.”
“I like that idea,” The Hunter agreed, “And you’re right, there’s no one else
in there but for the Inmates and the robots,” he stated, his Psi slipping over
the frightened little Minds therein.
When they entered the shed, Abrams flipped a switch. A light came on,
revealing only an empty room. Abrams kicked at a rug, revealing a trap door.
He opened it, and they headed down short flight of stairs. At the bottom was a
room just large enough to hold a small personal craft. “We’ll have to hold the
little ones on our laps,” he observed, “It’s small, but fast.”
They climbed in and fired up the engines. “It’s been on standby since I heard
you’d been ‘killed’,” Abrams explained. “I guess I never really believed it.
Things are changing. The News, the Network, the rumors - gods, it’s all so
insane! What the hell is going on out in the real World?”
The Hunter shook his head as the craft powered up. “I wish I knew. Transports
going missing all over, strange Breakdowns on the Networks, Unapproveds
vanishing, workers not showing up. Whole neighborhoods unaccounted for in the
Old Cities. It seems that the whole World’s on the verge of going insane, and
if what Acer told you and what’s on that video is true, then I doubt if even
Kadens or Xyn could save us,” he replied.
“Same difference,” Abrams replied glumly. He then flipped another switch and
the entire shed above them slid sideways. They looked up and saw stars, and
‘R’ gasped.
“Wow!” He breathed, and Edward reached over from Abrams’ lap to hold his hand
as the craft rose into the sky and flattened them all against their seats as
it accelerated into the lightening sky.
The Hunter stared at the fading stars racing to meet him as a small voice
filled his Mind. Abrams looked around, as did the little ones. It was apparent
that they, somehow, could hear it as well.
_You’re coming?_ It asked in surprise.
_I am. Are you?_ The Hunter replied.
Edward smiled. “That’s ‘N’!” He piped up.
Abrams eyes filled with tears, as he looked this way and that. “How can it
be?” he asked in confusion, “He’s so far away! And I can hear him as if he
were RIGHT here!”
“Sounds like it to me, too,” ‘R’ agreed.
The Hunter shook his head. “I told you he was good. And he’s got friends.
They’re making ready for something, although they won’t tell me what. We
should head that way.”
Abrams nodded gravely. “We can run until morning, then we’ll have to think up
how to refuel this thing.”
The Hunter nodded. “Leave that to me,” he replied in an ominous tone. “I don’t
think anyone’s going to insist that I pay for the fuel I take.”
Then another voice spoke up in all of their Minds, accompanied by the sounds
of a horrendous explosion.
_The first seal has been broken,_ Tym’s Mind whispered to them, _Come
quickly._
_II
A Star Falls from Heaven_
Shar watched from her control room, her Psi painting the picture of the small
army that was boarding the stolen craft. They were all climbing aboard: Adam
the Bomber, whose Mind could knock down buildings at will. Chriss the Pyro,
who could set fire to stone if need be. Kefe the Nightstalker, who could see
in the dark and who was agile and tireless. Tym, the little one with the
unnamed Mutant ability that was so intriguing – and so powerful. And finally
her own son Dan, the Malfunctioning Approved offspring of her brief union with
the treacherous Kel. Dan, who had nearly died from Defects and had been saved
by Xyn’s Suit.
And standing there with his lithe body armored, Psi running, and weapon drawn
was Xyn.
Her Psi lingered upon him for a moment, standing there looking so different
than he had when he had arrived in the Ruins with Jayk. Instead of a white
Facility Suit, he was dressed in black chameleonic body armor. And instead of
a bald shining head, he had donned a visored helmet.
She sighed as she watched them all checking over the craft. Her Psi then
focused on her son, and she could hear his Mind even though he himself was not
a Psion Mutant. Dan noticed her.
_Mom, geez, I’m gonna be OK. I got Xyn. It’ll be fine!_
Again, she smiled and gently withdrew her Mind to watch them all at once. Her
son was not a Psion, as she was, but he was something more. Since his healing,
Dan had demonstrated remarkable physical abilities, the least of which was his
ability to run. She had never seen anyone, not even a Nightstalker, move so
fast. And Dan had been training under Kefe as well. Suddenly, she realized how
very proud of them all she was, and her worries eased a bit.
_Bring them back to me, Xyn Psion,_ she sent, _All of them. I trust that you
will. Know that I am with you, as long as I can be._
_I will,_ Xyn replied, holstering his blaster. His Psi was running at levels
he’d never know before his castration. The theory of male hormones corrupting
XY Mutants’ abilities was obviously true, and not just for a select few. With
the testosterone all but gone from his pure Bio body, Xyn not only looked
like, but also WAS a different person. Shar regarded him, secretly of course,
as even a new breed of Mutant. It was a feeling that she had for Chriss as
well, and the more she pondered it, for them all. She was watching a craft
full of what could very well be the hopes and dreams of all Mutants and
Unapproveds the World over. Young XY’s who had, and who would, sacrifice
anything for one another. The Next Generation of Mutants, more powerful than
she’d ever known.
Perhaps even, she wondered, more powerful than the very World had ever known.
She opened her eyes and shook back her lustrous black hair. Her slender hands
punched a few buttons, and the thin blue beam of light that ran from her right
eye to the Network Interface console flickered. She smiled.
“Computer,” she said softly, “Prepare for Armageddon.”
“Engaging Kel-sequences now,” a child-like and metallic voice replied.
“Thank you, Duncan-2,” Shar replied in a sick tone as a vision of Kel came to
her Mind. For a moment, but only a moment, she missed him.
_The Comm-Tell System is going offline,_ she sent to Xyn, _Program ‘Kel-7’
has been unleashed and Duncan-2 is online. You have twelve hours at the most
before they are able to debug it and restore SOME tracking abilities. We
should, however, be able to maintain OUR satellite. The virus and Duncan will
play havoc on the systems, but it is not foolproof. Good luck, my sons. I
shall alert the Others._
_What others?_ Xyn asked, puzzled, “And who’s Duncan?”
But Shar did not answer him.
As they settled into the stolen craft and began to power it up, Xyn looked
around at his friends. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be a wet blanket here, but
just HOW did this thing get in there and HOW do we get it back OUT?”
Chriss smiled at him, looking strange in his own body armor. “We brought it in
a few pieces at a time while you were busy getting in shape and exploring old
buildings. Some assembly was required. We get out like this …” he gestured to
Adam.
Xyn could feel the anxiety coming from them all, but he could also feel Adam’s
Mind building up. It was much like it had been in the Infirmary when he’d
killed the Orderly, but this time it was much more powerful. Freed of the
restraints upon his Mutant powers by male hormones, Adam the Bomber and e-XY
was an almost unstoppable force of destruction. Xyn let his own Mind expand,
feeling vast once again. He was just beginning to crack a smile when he heard
a small voice in his Mind as his eyes began to fill with the dim morning light
and fading stars of the dawn.
_Wow!_ It seemed to gasp in awe, and Xyn realized that he was, even before
Adam’s Mind blew out the entire ceiling and wall of the makeshift hanger bay,
seeing the sky through the eyes of another.
_You’re coming?_
_Are you?_
About then, Adam’s Mind let loose and Xyn watched with his own eyes as most of
the room simply disappeared with a thunderous explosion. As their craft shot
through the dust and wreckage at maximum acceleration, he found himself
pressed back against his seat and hardly able to breath. Through all of the
excitement, however, he could clearly hear Tym’s voice and Mind as the strange
little one spoke:
** _The first seal has been broken._**
_Excuse me?_ The Hunter inquired.
_Just something I read to Tym the other night at bedtime,_ Xyn explained.
_Some bedtime story,_ the Hunter replied.
_Who’s the new kid?_ Tym asked.
_That would have been Eddie. He and his little friend are both rather excited
about being outside. I sort of appropriated them from Facility 32._
Xyn’s Mind shuddered at the mention of that number. He glanced over at Chriss,
busy at the controls, as the Pyro and Adam showed Dan and Kefe how to fly the
craft. Since Xyn and Tym had taken up residence in one of the back seats, no
one was watching them. Xyn slid his visor up and wiped at his eyes. Tym didn’t
look at him, but reached out a small hand to hold his. _Is … is HE with you?_
Xyn asked tentatively, pulling his Mind back a bit and still in awe of how far
he could reach with so little effort. _I can see smoke and some damage to the
building. I can feel … something bad … did you …_
_No,_ the Hunter replied, sensing his distress. _And you can thank your
little friend Tym for this one. I know I can’t reach you from here. The
Carebots gave us some trouble. Seems someone reprogrammed them all. We
destroyed several of them, and made a mess of the building, I’m afraid. This
‘R’ fellow is one of the Inmates, a Mutant as you can see. He’s a good friend
of a little XY, H2 I think you knew him as, and he got me here from my long
walk from Far South after my ‘death’. Anyway, the rest of the Inmates are
fine, and I took these two with me. And yes, Xyn, Mr. Abrams is here with me.
I killed the Dealer, not him._
Xyn breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time he paused. For the first
time – at least with his Psi up and running – his Mind had sampled and tasted
murderous fury. The Hunter, whose Mind he was in tune with via Tym, was filled
with it. It was not like the time in the Infirmary when Adam had killed those
people. This time, thanks to his enhanced Psi, Xyn could actually FEEL the
killing of the Dealer, fresh in the Hunter’s Mind, and he pondered it. He
squeezed Tym’s hand, but the little one shook his pale head. _“It’s not me,”_
he said aloud as well as with his Mind.
_What?!_ the Hunter marveled.
_It’s not Tym,_ Xyn replied, _I think it’s all me. I’ve, uh, gone through
some, uh, changes here and my Psi is, well, sort of different now._
_I always knew you were good,_ the Hunter commended him.
Tym smiled, but said nothing more. However, Xyn could still feel the Hunter’s
Mind and how he’d felt at killing the Dealer. He shivered.
_I can accept that,_ he replied, although he knew that some part of him
simply could not. Still, another part of him seethed with anger and relished
in the thought of his enemies falling under the force of his Mind. He shook
his head, clearing his Mind, and realized that his helmet was just a tiny bit
too large. He looked over at Tym as the others, oblivious to their mental
conversation, studied the craft’s controls. His Mind filled with images of
being little again and of Mr. Rick.
_I want to see him,_ Xyn sent softly, his eyes beginning to fill.
_I planned on that,_ the Hunter replied. _And he wants to see you as well.
Hell, **I** want to see you, in person, for real! Where shall we meet?_
Then Tym’s Mind overtook them all, and Xyn felt as if someone had thrown a
blanket around them. “Someone might be watching, or listening,” the little one
said aloud, “Someone looking for us. We need something different, from someone
they might not know. They know about US, but …” Then he snapped his fingers
and smiled.
_Edward knows a good place to meet,_ Tym sent to them. _Let him tell you
verbally, Hunter. I already know, because YOU know where it is too. As soon as
Xyn learns to fly this thing, we’ll meet you there!_
_Isn’t HE just the schemer?_ The Hunter ‘laughed’. _Got it! See you there!_
“What was that for?” Xyn asked, feeling the connections to the Hunter and the
others break.
Tym shrugged. “There’s someone out there who knows about us and might be able
to overhear our Psionic chats. If Edward, whom they probably don’t know about,
and who isn’t a known Psion, tells the Hunter verbally, we can meet there
safely. I hope. I don’t think anyone was listening in, but I still feel like
there’s something wrong here. Like someone is here that shouldn’t be and I
can’t nail him down.”
“And I have to learn to fly?”
Tym nodded. “Safer that way. You can shield your Mind better. And don’t tell
the rest of them where we’re going.”
THAT got Chriss’ attention. He looked up from his pilot’s seat and turned his
pale head slowly back to stare at them with a stunned look. “I don’t have time
to teach you to fly,” he said in a perplexed tone. “We can only hit the
rudiments. I’m lucky that **I** remember it after … after what they did to me
and Adam, I mean.”
Then Adam turned to face them as well, and Xyn recalled the mental blocks that
had been placed in their Minds and how painful it had been to remove them. It
had been a long and hard road to recovery, but together, the Pyro and the
Bomber had made it. Xyn smiled at his friends, and idea coming to him as his
Mind began to work again.
“Sure you got time,” he smiled at Chriss, “Now Adam, trade me places, if you
would.”
It was a bit of a tussle as Adam and Xyn traded places, stepping over Dan and
Kefe in the process. On the way, the wind buffeted the small craft and Adam
wound up in Kefe’s lap as Dan narrowly avoided Xyn landing upon him. They were
all laughing by the time they’d all resettled. Then Chriss turned back to his
controls.
“How do I teach you how to do this then?” He asked. “We only have so much
time, you know.”
Xyn smiled at him. “Do you trust me, Chriss?”
The young Pyro nodded. “Of course I do,” he said softly.
“Then just open your Mind and let me watch you fly,” Xyn replied, laying a
hand on his forearm. “All you have to do is think about it.”
From her Control room far below the Ruins, Shar’s Mind began to lose contact
with them as they flew at alarming speeds beyond her Psi’s range. Her last
glimpse of them was one of Xyn taking the controls, and of his Mind flowing
into Chriss’.
She smiled.
“What’s wrong?” the small metallic voice asked.
“Nothing, Duncan,” Shar replied, shaking back her long, black hair.
“You always shake your hair when you’re worried,” Duncan replied, “You started
doing it at University, you know.”
Then Shar shifted her thought via the Network link and a hidden panel on the
wall in front of her slid away. Even though she knew what lay hidden behind
that panel, she still shuddered as her eyes fell upon it. Kel’s last gift to
the Outcasts, his last piece of genius, appeared before her and she gasped as
she looked upon the central processor of the main computer that ran everything
for them in the Ruins.
Floating in a small, aerated tank with thousands of cables and Network
Interfaces was a small amount of Bio-Mass with several Approved Processor
chips embedded in it. It was convoluted and almost round, and the lower stem
of it which supported it in the tank was glowing with the same blue light that
ran the connections of Approveds when they logged on to the Networks. A small
screen on her panel lit up, adjusted its resolution and color, and then the
smiling face of a little XY appeared on it.
“The Others out West report ready,” the small voice informed her. “The last
arms ship has been secured and Comm-Tell is a mess.”
Shar nodded. “We will wait until we hear from Xyn and the others,” she sighed,
“Or if we do not hear from them, then we will proceed as planned in twelve
hours. How are you holding up, Duncan?”
The little face on the screen wrinkled its nose and blinked. “I’m fine, all
things considered. I’ve got all the Networks pretty much confused,” it
replied, “And the satellite systems are ALL toast. They don’t know if they’re
coming or going, or what’s going to where or when!” it exulted. “I’ve made a
bloody mess of the whole Information Superhighway with those programs Kel
figured out for us! Hell, no one can even make a phone call right now!”
“You sound as if you’re having fun,” she replied sadly.
The little face nodded, smiling at her with perfect teeth. “Sure beats being
dead,” he answered. “Lucky for us that last ship was a heavily armed
Transport.”
“But are there enough of us, and are we well enough armed?” she lamented, “And
must it be like this?”
Duncan’s virtual face blinked again and sneered. “They brought it upon
themselves. Look at what they do to Unapproveds. Look at what they did to ME!
If it weren’t for Kel, I’d have been Recycled by now. I was supposed to take
over the World and straighten it out, you know. That’s what they were building
me for. Well, that’s what I plan to do, with your help of course! They had
their chance, and they didn’t listen. Now this is all that’s left. We can’t
hold out in the Ruins – East or West – like this for much longer. We have to
ACT!”
Shar nodded and sighed once again. The presence of her son was gone from her
Mind, and she wondered at how strange it felt. She reviewed one final report
of Authority actions that Duncan hacked for her, then stretched and stood up.
Well over 75% of the Unapproved workforce had not gone in for the past week,
and fully 35% of them were listed as ‘missing’ or Runaway. Hunters and
Authority both were at a loss to explain it, and the Government was taking
steps. The story she read was very different than what ran on the public
Network news. Obviously, the talking heads that delivered the News had been
given a fine list of lies to talk about. The current estimate of Runaways in
Old City alone was now at 65%, and Shar knew very well where ALL of them were.
Martial Law was only a few days, perhaps only hours, away as the Society built
by Kadens the Unifier began to shudder towards collapse.
It was getting on towards dark again when the two craft settled to Earth near
an old and abandoned church in a remote rural area near Far South. The Hunter
and his party had arrived somewhat before Xyn’s Gang, and were already setting
up camp as they watched Xyn’s craft come in for a landing. The Hunter stared
at it, feeling strange, and thinking of watching meteor showers as a little
one with his family. He smiled as his Psi focused upon what he’d thought was a
falling star as the small assault craft took shape before his eyes and settled
to Earth. There were Minds in that craft, and he wondered at his own anxiety.
_Xyn’s in there,_ he mused.
Everyone was wary as they disembarked, Xyn’s Gang not sure if they could trust
the Hunter and Abrams, and the adults not sure about the craft full of
Outcasts. Tym’s plan, it seemed, had worked. All of them with Psionic
Abilities kept their guards up, however, but no one seemed to sense anything
amiss. The Hunter introduced everyone, since he knew them all well, thanks to
Tym. It didn’t take Edward and ‘R’ long to make up with them, and Edward
attached himself to Tym as ‘R’ fell in with Adam. They decided to prepare an
evening meal, as all of them were tired from the flight, and then to grab a
bit of rest before discussing their plans in depth. Only Xyn lingered at the
back of his Gang, watching the exchange in silence with his visor down and his
Psi guarded as the others worked to set up a camp.
Finally, Rick Abrams spoke up as they were setting out provisions.
“Where IS Xyn?” he asked no one in particular.
They could all hear the catch in his voice, but no one said anything. Then
Abrams felt a familiar ‘tug’ at his Mind, and he looked up towards Xyn’s
craft.
Standing before him in chameleonic and shimmering body armor stood a young one
– or at least, the outline of one. He was about a head shorter than Abrams,
and his hand was hovering above his blaster. As he stepped away from the
craft, the armor seemed to coalesce into a solid form. He took a few steps
towards the man who had raised him, then stopped. Very slowly, his other hand
moved up to his mirrored visor and slid it up to reveal his face.
“Xyn!” Abrams breathed, as the others watched in silence.
He took a few anxious steps towards him, but Xyn didn’t move. Abrams stopped.
Although not a Psion himself, he knew enough of Xyn’s recent life to realize
that he wasn’t meeting the little one that he’d once known. The Dealer had
been right all along.
Standing before him was not little Inmate N-32, nicknamed Xyn.
Abrams stood, motionless, gazing upon young Xyn Psion, Mutant Clone of the
Unifier, Kadens.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice catching again. “I’ve waited, Xyn. I’ve
wanted to … I wanted … it’s been so long!” Then he paused and shook his head,
looking away.
Xyn didn’t move.
“But he told me. And I guess I understand. You’ve been through a lot, Xyn. I’m
glad you’re all right, though. I guess I’m the last person you want to see
now, if you know even half of the truth. I don’t blame you at all.”
Everyone turned away, a sense of decency and privacy in such a moment making
them not want to watch the reunion. But Xyn still said nothing. His Mind was
silent, and Abrams sighed heavily. There was nothing.
Always before, he could sort of ‘feel’ Xyn’s moods and know when he was near.
After all, he’d raised him. He’d hidden him. He’d loved him.
Then, as he was turning around to go back to his work, he heard a strangled
cry and felt Xyn’s Mind hit his own like a blow. He looked back up just in
time to see the young one that he’d raised and lost running towards him with
arms outstretched. It was a moment he would remember for the rest of his life:
the tears in the young one’s eyes, the lost look on his face, and the single,
soft whimper he made as he ran. Xyn pulled off his helmet and dropped it in
the grass as he ran blindly, his eyes full of tears.
Abram’s first instinct was to bend down and catch him, but he realized just in
time that Xyn had grown. Instead he stood firm and caught Xyn in a tight
embrace, pulling his bald head to his shoulder and holding him as if he might
vanish like some ghost. He said nothing. He simply held him as Xyn wept, his
armored body trembling. Abram’s hand rubbed the top and back of his head as he
pressed his cheek against Xyn’s temple. The flood of emotions from the young
Psion was suddenly overwhelming, and they sank to their knees on the grass as
Abram’s tried to comprehend what Xyn was throwing at him.
_There was a green forest and blue berries and barren wasteland. There was
sun, and another little one … a young one with fangs and dark skin … there was
a city … what had been a city … Ruins … strange and high buildings … tunnels …
stairs … dank and musty and dark places … a tall and beautiful woman … another
little one … books … explorations … curiosity … a journey … pain … fear …
feelings of rejection and loss … loss so great … and loneliness. There was
suddenly another one … Minds … so many Minds … exhaustion … pleasure … guilt …
and pain._
Abrams own finite Mind caught at the pain he felt as Xyn sobbed, and something
strange flashed before his eyes. He saw blood, heard a terrible scream, and
pulled the armored form at his breast closer as he too began to cry. The pain
was Xyn’s pain, unimaginable as it tore through Abram’s very being. Somehow
the little one that he’d always wanted for his own had been seriously injured
at some point in his journey.
Very slowly, Xyn’s odyssey since the night of the fire came to him.
He held him for a long time. Very gently, he kissed Xyn’s forehead then placed
his hands on both cheeks to lift his flawless and tear-stained face to stare
into his eyes.
“Oh, gods, I thought I’d never see you again,” Abrams whispered.
Xyn shook his head and coughed, unable to speak. _I was afraid too! I missed
you, but I found out some things, awful things … and I … I thought you … I was
so mad at you! I’m sorry! I was wrong. You never hurt me … and …”_
“It’s alright, Xyn,” Abrams interrupted him, “You needn’t explain, you already
have. I thought I was protecting you, and in some small way, I was. I found
out some things too. And I’m so proud of you!”
“Why?” Xyn choked.
Abrams thought for a moment, wondering if Xyn were ‘listening’ after all he’d
just ‘shown’ him. He pulled him close again, holding him and thinking.
Finally, he said, “If you don’t know, I’ll trust you not to pry with that Psi
of yours. I think if you don’t know yet, you’ll be better off.”
Xyn looked up at him in confusion, yet he remembered the manners he’d been
taught and the things he’d just shared. And some that he hadn’t. He didn’t
probe. He simply nodded and they stood up. Abrams’ arm was about his
shoulders, and Xyn’s was about the man’s waist as they walked toward the
others.
“Always remember this, Xyn,” Abrams told him, “I love you. More than you can
know, probably. I never stopped loving you, and I never gave up looking for
you. I sent the Hunter out after you to bring you back to me. I know you’ve
found someone your own age to love, and that you’re going to risk your life
going after him. I don’t want to lose you again, but I won’t stand in your
way.”
“You can come with us,” Xyn offered quickly, his eyes lighting up with hope.
Abrams laughed. “I may have to. It seems that someone doesn’t like me at work
anymore. Actually, I think I’m need of a new home, now.”
They all laughed at that as they sat down to eat. Surprisingly, there was real
food and not field rations. “All the comforts of home,” Dan mentioned.
No one asked where it came from, and Xyn sat very closely next to Abrams with
Tym at his other side. Abrams watched how Xyn watched Tym, and wondered at the
duality of the frightened but mighty young warrior sitting at his side.
When they’d finished their meal and darkness had finally fallen, the Hunter
spoke up. He himself, like Abrams, had two little ones almost in his lap. “So
do we spend the night here?” he asked, gesturing towards the old church.
There was a bit of discussion, but finally, everyone agreed that sleep was in
order and the church house offered shelter. Dan quickly drew up a guard
schedule, and they turned to go in. Then Adam and Chriss fell back a bit,
staring back at the hastily prepared campsite.
“I think a tent sounds good, though,” the Pyro stated, “You know, outside,
under the stars, fresh air.”
“We did spend a lot of time setting them up,” Adam agreed, as the two headed
back outside.
The Outcasts laughed, but the joke was lost on the rest of them.
“What about the crafts?” Abrams asked, “What if someone sees them?”
Kefe laughed, his cyan eyes shining. Abrams gasped. “Sorry,” he offered, his
arm about Xyn’s shoulders, whose arm was about Tym’s shoulders.
“Leave that to me,” the Nightstalker replied. “It’s dark, and I’m awake. I
slept some on the way here.”
“And that means?” Abrams asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It means we can sleep because if anyone gets near here, Kefe and Dan will
tear them to pieces,” Tym explained helpfully.
Abrams stopped in his tracks.
“Life’s rough,” Xyn stated sagely as the entered the abandoned church.
**III
The Waters Turn to Blood**
It was near midday when they all finally awoke. The stress of the previous
day’s journey had taken its toll on all of them, and the rest had been much
needed. Kefe had gone to sleep in their flyer that morning, having been
relieved by Adam. One by one, they straggled out of the old church, yawning
and stretching and looking generally confused and pathetic.
“If this is the army that’s gonna save the World, we’re in bad trouble,” Tym
observed.
The Hunter, who had gone back to Abram’s craft, looked up from his control
panel. He smiled at the little one, who was adjusting his downsized body
armor. Then he laughed. “One person at a time,” he replied.
Tym smiled back at him, then the Hunter swore loudly.
“What is it?” Abrams asked, looking up from a pack he’d pulled from the craft.
“This is unbelievable!” The Hunter gasped. “Authority has just declared
Martial Law. Old Cities are under lockdown, and no one’s allowed out on the
streets, Approved or not. Overnight, it seems that more than 75% of the
Unapproveds in EVERY SINGLE Old City has gone Runaway! Nothing’s getting done
– anywhere! It’s chaos! The Newsfeeds are working, but the Networks are pretty
much dead! The signal keeps breaking up, but enough of it’s coming through to
warn everyone to stay put! Authority and Government forces are scrambling to
get control of the New Cities. It’s just … pandemonium!”
“That would be Duncan-2’s doing,” Dan explained, ripping into a field ration
canister.
“Who’s Duncan-2?” Abrams asked, then his face paled. Tym’s eyebrows shot up.
“I see you know of him,” the little one observed, looking around casting his
Mind out over the landscape.
The Hunter jumped down from the craft. “Duncan-2, if it’s the one I’m thinking
of, is dead!” He replied.
“Depends on how you define ‘dead’,” Dan countered. “Mom says this Kel fellow
set up a control station in the Ruins, that we’d need it someday. He showed
her how to use it, before Jayk killed him. I spent a lot of time in that room,
and I met Duncan a long time ago.”
Then Chriss cleared his throat and Dan and Tym fell silent, nodding at him.
The Hunter shook his head and turned off the craft’s communications systems.
“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know,” he grumbled. Then he remembered the
chips that he’d torn out of the dead Kel’s head back in the Ruins. He
shivered, suddenly not wanting to know what was on them as he shook his head
at Dan.
Then, around back of the old church house, something exploded and everyone hit
the ground. Those who had weapons drew them, and every Psion in the Gang threw
his Mind at the building as an acrid cloud of blue-gray smoke rose up from
behind it. Suddenly Adam began to laugh, and everyone looked him with open
mouths.
“Sorry!” The young Bomber apologized, still laughing, “That was just ‘R’. I’d
know a Bomber’s blast anywhere!”
Adam’s laughter stopped, however, when he – along with everyone else – felt
the gentle pressure of a Mind pass through his own. They all looked up at the
front door of the old church to see Xyn, dressed in his own body armor and
mirrored visor down, leading Edward IV and the little Mutant known as ‘R’ out.
‘R’ had tendrils of smoke rising from his Suit and his eyes were wild. Edward
was trying to suppress a grin, but everyone could tell how Xyn felt.
_Now is NOT the time for antics,_ his Mind told them all. _We only have so
much time, and we mustn’t be discovered. Shar and her computers can only keep
the Government and Authority systems offline for so long, and then we’re on
our own. We have to be in and out of Far South by tonight, and back in the
Ruins by morning if we can find fuel and the crafts hold out. It’s going to be
a hard ride, and there’s going to be fighting, I’m sure. We can’t afford to
take any risks or let our guard down!_
Everyone stared at him for an awkward while, unsure of what to say as ‘R’
looked up at Xyn and began to cry. “I … I … d-dint mean t-to!” he choked,
running down the steps and into Abram’s arms. The former Facility Director
looked up at Xyn and raised an eyebrow. “Little Mutants are prone to
accidents, you’ll recall,” he advised in a tone he’d often used with Xyn when
he was very little.
Xyn, however, said nothing as the Presence of his Mind left them and he
stalked off towards the Outcasts’ craft. Only Tym watched him go.
_What was THAT all about?_ he asked, still sweeping the area in an effort to
locate the Mind that he felt was watching them.
_He was playing around,_ Xyn replied with some heat, _And he knocked down a
dead tree. It burst into flames, and damn nigh took him with it. This is NOT
the time. YOU of all people should realize that. After all, you know
everything don’t you?_
Xyn’s reply struck Tym hard and the strange little Mutant’s eyes filled. He
clapped his own visor down to hide it, and returned to his search, excluding
Xyn from his Mind.
_I’m sorry,_ Xyn replied after a few moments, and Tym could feel the regret
in his thought. Nothing else was needed as he hopped up on the craft’s wing
and got in to sit beside Xyn. Then, to his surprise, Xyn pulled him into his
lap, armor and all, and held him. Tym could hear the sobs coming from behind
his visor, and reached out a small hand and tentatively raised it to reveal
Xyn’s haunted face.
Unable to say it aloud, Xyn opened his Mind to Tym and the little Mutant
understood it all in a matter of seconds.
Xyn was afraid.
_They all look at me differently now,_ he was thinking, _Like I’m some sort
of hero, a mythical hero like we read about at bedtime who can’t screw up or
be hurt! But what if I screw up, Tym? What if I don’t get Jayk back? What if
someone gets killed? What if they come at us in force, looking for me? It will
be ALL my fault!_
“What if, what if, what if …You’ll do fine,” Tym said out loud.
Xyn swallowed hard. “There’s something they’re not telling me,” he pried.
“And you’re too mannerly to dig into it with your Psi,” Tym replied.
“You know what it is,” Xyn accused, still holding him tightly.
Tym nodded. “So do the Hunter, and Mr. Abrams. But you don’t need to know,
like he said. Just let it go. It’s nothing bad. Trust me.”
Xyn smiled at him through his tears, just as Abrams poked his head over the
edge of the open cockpit.
“Everyone’s almost ready,” he advised. He then paused, staring into Xyn’s
bloodshot eyes. Very softly, he laid a hand on the young one’s armored
shoulder. “You were a lot more loveable when you didn’t carry a blaster and
wore a white Suit,” he commented.
They flew low and avoided detection for the remainder of the day. A few times,
they passed a couple of patrol craft, but without Networking and the Comm-Tell
system, they remained undetected. The Outcasts’ assault craft bore Government
markings, and Abrams craft was personal and generic model so that those on the
ground who saw them didn’t’ think twice. Near midday, they stopped to refuel
at an Airfield where no one had come in to work. The Hunter blasted the
security Bots into shrapnel without a second thought as Adam coached the
little Bomber Mutant ‘R’ through gently blowing the locks off the tank caps.
Visions of millions of gallons of fuel igniting underneath of them danced in
Xyn’s Mind, but he kept it to himself. By evening, they were coming in range
of Far South and the New City there.
“I can feel him,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “I can feel him and his
Master,” he almost growled, banking the craft hard to starboard and beginning
a descent through the high level clouds that they had hidden in during the
last leg of their flight.
Everyone looked at him, and Kefe was the first to speak. “Is he OK?” the young
Nightstalker asked, licking his lips as his eyes glowed.
Xyn nodded. “HE is, but I can’t guarantee the state of his Master’s health for
much longer,” he replied, leveling out the craft and avoiding a few trees as
the Hunter followed him in. They made a fast pass that gave them a view of
Wilson’s estate, but just barely. By the time they had landed and disembarked
in the surrounding Forest, more than a few of their faces were green. Chriss
found this amusing and laughed.
“Who taught YOU how to fly, boy?” The Hunter demanded, wiping at his armor.
Xyn pointed at Chriss then tapped his temple.
The Hunter grunted, and Abrams laughed. The Hunter glared at him.
Then Edward and ‘R’ hopped down. ‘R’’s Suit was stained and it was a dull blue
instead of white. The little Bomber Mutant’s face was red with shame, and he
hid behind Abrams. “I’m sorry,” he offered.
“What happened?” Tym asked, feigning ignorance and trying not to laugh.
“’R’ puked on him,” Edward IV stated in an amused tone as the Hunter continued
to wipe at his armor and the rest of them collapsed into helpless laughter.
Xyn’s Mind, however, was scanning the estate as they began to walk in that
direction. The urge to run to Jayk, or at least let him know that he was
there, was very powerful. Still, he resisted. His Mind passed over the grounds
and into the house, feeling the presence of Ev Wilson, a few busy servants,
and Jayk. Xyn wanted badly to linger there, but he moved on with some effort.
At the very edges of his Mind, he could feel Tym probing the area as well.
There was no one else on neither the ground floor nor the second floor. Then
Xyn moved his Mind up to the third floor and roof and gasped.
_Guards,_ he sent to them all, _Government men. Armed and watching. It would
seem that we were expected._
The Hunter spat out an unflattering oath and checked his weapons. The rest of
them did the same.
“How many?” Abrams whispered.
“Eight!” Xyn breathed, then swore. “Make that ten.”
“Pretty good odds,” Kefe growled softly, flexing his arms and legs. “Shall I
go in for a look?”
Xyn shook his head. “I think it might be best to just walk up to the door and
knock,” he mused. “After all, we don’t want a mess, do we?”
“But what if they’re like the spies in the Ruins?” Tym asked.
Xyn stopped in his tracks, his brows knitted. He clapped his visor down and
drew his weapon as they approached the edge of the Forest. “We’re running out
of time,” he advised, “And Tym’s got a valid point.” He probed the house
again, and nodded, swearing beneath his helmet.
“Trained Minds, Approved,” Tym explained, checking his own weapon. “But they
haven’t been here long. Some of them think Wilson hired them. Some of them are
waiting, expecting something.” Then he paused and his brows knitted in
concentration. “Shit! Someone trained them pretty well, too. I can’t break any
of them without someone noticing it. I think someone knew we were coming.”
Xyn swore again.
“WHERE did you pick up that kind of language?” Abrams asked, shocked.
Xyn shrugged. “I think you should take the little ones back to the craft wait,
Mr. Rick,” he suggested, slipping unconsciously into his former mode of
address. “It’s bound to get ugly in there, and you’re not armed, nor a Mutant.
In fact, I can’t even ask any of you to go in with me. You got me here. That’s
all I wanted; more than I wanted.”
Kefe stepped up beside of Xyn, as did Dan. Actually, Dan sort of just
‘appeared’ at his side with a sound of rustling leaves and grass, making Xyn
flinch. Adam and Chriss followed, and then the Hunter. They all turned to look
back at Tym.
“Don’t think you’re leaving me behind,” he stated, walking up to Xyn and
taking his hand. “I want him back, too.”
Abrams nodded, taking the two little Mutants back towards the crafts. “If
you’re not back in a mini-Cycle, then I’m coming in with the little guns,
here,” he advised in a sick tone, gesturing at the little ones. His humor was
dark, but Xyn understood it. Rick Abrams was a wanted man now, and he, like
the Mutants, had nowhere to go. He nodded to the man who had raised him and
loved him.
“If you need help, open a channel to Shar. The computer will do it for you. We
still have our satellite, and you can get back to the Ruins that way with
them,” Xyn said in an equally sick voice. Then he sighed and squared his
shoulders. “Let’s go.”
As they stepped out of the Forest’s edge, Dan suddenly held up a hand and
dashed out in front of them. He seemed to be in almost two places at once, and
the others blinked.
“There’s bound to be a security perimeter,” he advised, “And the power grid is
still online. Duncan’s good, but he’s not been able to knock out the
Continental Power Nets yet. He’s having enough trouble keeping the Networks
scrambled. Let me go on ahead. I’ve NEVER met a security net I couldn’t fool
before, and the Old City has some good ones on the best shops!”
Xyn, his face hidden behind his visor, smiled. He nodded at Dan, and suddenly
the little armored Mutant was gone.
“Where’d he go?” The Hunter asked in amazement.
He got his answer a few seconds later as a confused welter of emotions and a
flurry of activity went off inside of Wilson’s house. The guards were in a
state of confusion, and Wilson was angry. Xyn let his Mind wander the house a
bit, locking onto Jayk.
Jayk was laughing, and Xyn smiled.
Then suddenly Dan was back in front of them, breathing hard. He raised his
visor and they saw that his face was sweating.
“Ye gods,” he panted, “That’s a good one. The security field told them that I
was in about ten places at once. They’re sort of confused and upset now.”
“We noticed,” Tym replied, holding up a hand with thumb upraised.
“Problem is, it SHOULD have read a massive attack on the house, the way I was
moving,” Dan retorted. “It’s a good one. I got a look at Jayk as I passed by a
window too, thank gods for body armor! I crashed into a rosebush when I saw
him!”
Xyn raised his visor. “Is … is he OK?”
Dan nodded, and then wrinkled up his nose and his sweaty face flamed red in a
blush. “You won’t believe how he looks, though. That Wilson is one weird
bastard, if you ask me.”
The Hunter snorted, and then exhaled hard. He lifted his visor to let in a
cool night breeze, despite his armor’s efforts to keep him comfortable. “I
think I know what you mean,” he explained to the others, “When I left Jayk
here, much as I didn’t want to, Wilson had him all dolled up for dinner the
night I left. It was rather … revealing, shall we say.”
He was answered by the metallic sucking sound of Xyn’s visor going down again,
with force, and sealing. His Mind expanded in anger, and he swept the house
again. He threw caution to the wind, and set his blaster for maximum yield at
wide beam.
_ **I’m here, Jayk,**_ his Mind roared as he cried it aloud. **_I’m here and
you’re going home!_**
_Xyn!_ The reply came back, _You’re here! But they know! You’ll be killed!
That fat man was here last month and …_
_I know that they know, and I’m ready for them. I brought some help, too.
NOTHING is keeping me from you this time!_ Xyn interrupted, flashing an image
of the Dealer at the Hunter. He snorted and smiled evilly.
Tym muttered a foul oath and began drawing upon his strange abilities. He
probed at the men in the house, disregarding Wilson, and began to concentrate
on literally tearing their Minds to shreds. None of them appeared to be Psions
as he attacked. At the same time, the Hunter made his move, and the group
followed suit as two of the guards went down, senseless as Xyn joined him in
his attack.
They took the household by surprise, the remaining guards having written
Wilson’s security system off as faulty when they’d found no one after Dan’s
run at it. They had all just settled down to a late refreshment in the great
room, wondering at their two missing companions, when Adam knocked the front
door down. It exploded from its casing in thousands of smoking fragments, and
Chriss promptly set fire to the back of the house, near the kitchens, to
provide a distraction. The Outcasts crossed the well-maintained lawn at a dead
run, but Dan was far out ahead of them. By the time they reached the smoking
ruins of the door, he was long gone with Kefe struggling to keep up with him.
The little Mutant disappeared into the huge and threatening brick mansion, and
they lost sight of him. Xyn and Tym, too busy with the guards, couldn’t track
his Mind. The men took a moment to get their bearings and realize what was
going on, but when they did, things began to erupt. As the Outcasts stormed
the vestibule and took the front receiving room, one of the guards went down
screaming. He rolled about on the floor, hands clawing at his face and eyes
wide as the illusion cast by Tym tore at his Mind. They could afford him only
a slight glance as he began to tear the skin from his face, the blood soaking
his uniform as he wailed in hopeless insanity.
_Only half of them are armored!_ The Hunter sent to the rest of them,
focusing his Psi at his Gang only. _Leave them to me!_
As Xyn blasted a hesitant and confused guard into nothingness with his
blaster, taking a priceless antique stool and vase with him, Tym focused on
another guard; the armored man tore his helmet off and ran screaming from the
room. He paused at the patio doors long enough to fire off a shot at Tym then
crashed through the etched glass and ran screaming. Adam followed him out and
blew the earth out from under him. The wild shot, however, caught Tym’s helmet
near the top left, damaging his closed visor’s hinge. The little one screamed
and went to his knees. He shook his head, got back up, and began firing, in
concert with Xyn, at the armored guards going for the Hunter.
The Hunter dived behind a sofa, taking as many shots as he could at the
armored guards with his own blaster. Their armor was smoking here and there,
but it was obvious that it could take a great deal of damage. Xyn was hoping
that their own was half as good as he watched one finally fall, when an
unexpected blast took him full in the back. He fell to the floor as Chriss
ignited the drapery and Adam pulled part of the ceiling down upon two of the
armored guards that the Hunter was firing upon. As the rubble pinned them, the
Hunter blew their heads off.
“Keep in mind that the other end of this monster house is burning!” the Pyro
called, hurling fireballs the remaining guards.
Xyn pulled himself up slowly, his Mind blazing and his body aching. The blast
had been close, and he could feel the burns on his back. His armor was
obviously damaged, but his Mind cried out for blood. Kefe, however, beat him
to it. The Nighstalker fell from a chandelier in the next room, whirling about
as he dropped. He landed upon an unarmored guard, sinking his fangs into the
man’s neck. Blood gushed as he ripped out the throat, and Xyn felt a pang of
regret and horrible sadness from the floor above him.
_ **Jayk!**_ he screamed.
_Xyn, watch out! There are more than guards! The house is going into safe
mode! Get out!_
_Jayk, the house is on fire too, Chriss did it!_
_We know! Now run!_
_ **Not without YOU!**_ Xyn cried, his helmet-encased head darting this way
and that as his Psi lashed at the ominous house in an effort to locate Jayk.
He could feel the servants running away, and then feel them suddenly panic and
begin to die. He afforded himself the moment of finding out why. Astonished,
he felt the combined wills of Edward IV and ‘R’ working in tandem to lure them
within the little Bomber Mutant’s range. He could feel Abram’s sickness as the
two little ones worked the servants over – Edward lulling them into a false
sense of security so that ‘R’ could blow them to bits.
Without warning, he was hot. Very hot. “Xyn, get back!” Chriss screamed, as a
huge fireball shot past him as he hit the floor again. The fireball, which has
destroyed the Pyro Mutant’s armor gloves, narrowly missed him and took an
armored guard full in the chest. He let off a tight-beamed blast as the
fireball struck him, and it nicked Chriss’ flaming hand. The Pyro screamed in
pain, but he did not relax his Mind as the armored man took fire and literally
began to burn to the ground. The room filled with the smell of smoking meat,
and the man screamed again and again as he literally roasted alive inside of
his own body armor.
“Jayk says we have to get out!” Xyn called, “Something about a safe-mode
coming online.”
“Fuck me!” The Hunter yelled, taking a shot at the last fleeing unarmored
guard. “I know where the main control box is. Leave it to me. Wilson’s as bad
as the guards, Xyn. I hate to do it, but you’ve got to get Jayk to go Beast
for us! Wilson could have a hundred traps waiting for us in here!”
Xyn shook his head and sent the thought to Jayk, who was frightened. He’d
never felt THAT from Jayk before, not like this, and it frightened him as
well.
_I can’t!_ Jayk protested.
_You MUST!_
_Xyn, no, it’s too terrible! I killed Kel like that. Please, don’t make me!_
_I’ll try and avoid it, Jayk, but you might have to! YOU know Wilson and the
house better than we do! I won’t leave without you, Jayk, so get ready!_
The Hunter lunged for where he recalled the control box to be as a thunderous
explosion shook the house. A stream of epithets and curses and slurs about the
Approveds, the gods, and Mankind in general followed that explosion as Adam
lashed at the back yard. Huge trees, their roots pulling up great chunks of
earth, fell in front the last fleeing guard. He turned and fired his weapon at
the young Bomber, but his shot had too far to travel and it bounced harmlessly
off of his dinged and scuffed armor. Adam looked up, and sweeping his arm in a
fluid movement, began tearing slate tiling from the roof. He hurled the tiles,
which exploded in midair, at the guard. The Hunter found the house’s control
box and blasted it, then they all turned to watch Adam’s show of destruction
in sheer awe.
The Psions could even feel that Wilson, somewhere on the third floor with
Jayk, had paused as well.
There were flickers of the lights as the house lost its “mind”. With the
control panel shattered, the security system and any traps that Wilson had
lain with it failed. Still, Adam continued his advance upon the guard, still
swearing sulfurously and raining destruction down upon him as the others
regrouped. They did a head count, and found Tym missing. The Hunter, however,
quickly located him on the only surviving couch in the great room, resting.
Finally, holstering his blaster, Adam confronted the guard who fired at him
again as a tile exploded in front of him. A sharp fragment took off one of his
hands, and blood sprayed out as he cried out for mercy.
Adam, however, had none to give him.
“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” He demanded, blowing a chunk out of the sod at the
dying man’s feet.
The last guard whimpered, clutching at the stump of his wrist and literally
staring Death in the soft and unblemished face of an eternally young one.
Adam pulled off his helmet, and the guard gasped. “Y-you’re just a l-lit-tle
XY!” he gasped.
“No,” Adam countered, “I’m not. In case you didn’t notice, I’m a Mutant.
Unapproved. A Runaway slave, too. But an XY, I’m not! YOUR kind saw to that.
YOUR kind wanted slaves. Everything for YOU, and nothing for US! You Approveds
and your desires, always getting what YOU want! And who pays for it? I DID!”
He screamed, blasting half of the roof off of the back of the huge house and
sending a rain of debris down upon the side lawn.
Then a deadly silence fell upon the Wilson estate.
“Wh-what are y-you, then?” the dying man choked, squeezing at his stump and
trying to stop the bleeding. Uninvited, Chriss stepped up to Adam’s side and
laid a slim and smoking greenish-tinted hand upon his love’s shoulder. He
focused his Pyro ability and cauterized the man’s bleeding stump.
The guard howled in agony as the bloody lump of meat smoked and stopped
bleeding.
“I am an e-XY,” Adam whispered, concentrating his Will upon the Approved’s
head.
“Adam, do you really wanna do this?” Chriss asked him.
Adam, with tears streaming down his smooth face, nodded. “I’ve wanted to do
this ever since my Master called the Exterminators on me,” he replied in a
chilling and high-pitched voice. “I’ve wanted to do it ever since that fat-ass
dealer cut me and laughed and told me how beautiful I was.”
Chriss stepped back. _Then be done with him,_ he sent. _But it’ll do you no
good. I just burned a man alive inside of his own armor in there. I think I’m
going to puke._
And with that, Adam the Bomber and e-XY Mutant Unapproved unleashed the full
rage of his fourteen Cycles worth of hurt.
The unarmed man exploded into absolute nothingness. Only two indentations in
the soft grass made by his knees remained.
Very slowly, Adam sank to his own knees in the green grass, staring in horror
at the wreckage all around him. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His
eyes were wide and pale as Chriss went to him, taking him in his arms as he
had done a few nights after the breaking down of their mental blocks. Then,
exhausted as he was from expending so much energy on fireballs during the
fight, he let his limited Psi reach out to the young e-XY that he loved. He
swallowed hard, opening his tired Mind to Adam.
Adam’s head sank into Chriss’ shoulder as the young Pyro finally figured out
how Xyn and Jayk had done it. They both understood the anguish in an instant,
and as Adam broke down and wept like the broken-hearted little one that he
was, they were replaced by an entity that was Adam/Chriss.
No one said a word as they watched them. The Hunter, who’s Psi was the least
spent, swept the area. “We’re clear, for the moment,” he warned. “How bad are
we hurt?” he asked, wiping at his badly damaged and smoking armor. “Tym’s
resting inside, what about the rest of you?”
Xyn looked around, his vision blurry and his own armor smoking. His back stung
with the burns that he knew he had as Kefe dropped from what was left of a
ceiling beam. The Nightstalker’s cyan eyes were shining, and his fangs dripped
blood down his chin. “I’m fine,” he stated, going to Xyn and looking him over.
“Man, you’re fucked up bad in the back, Xyn,” he advised.
“Where’s Tym?” Xyn asked, sweeping his Mind around the room and feeling it
coming back up to power so quickly. He took a deep breath, amazed to find
himself still feeling the emotions coming from the craft. Rick Abrams was ill,
and the two little Mutants were somewhat elated and confused and sort of ill
all at the same time. He tuned them out and concentrated upon Tym and Jayk.
From the great room that they had laid waste in battle came a soft whimper.
Dan was still nowhere to be found, but Tym didn’t sound good. Kefe helped Xyn
to his feet, but the young Psion brushed him off and stumbled into the next
room. He found Tym collapsed on a divan by a large potted palm tree in the
corner. The little one had pulled his damaged helmet off and detached his
gloves. His face was drawn and pale, and he was gasping for breath. There was
a knot on his left temple near his eye, and he was blinking rapidly.
Xyn stumbled over to him, and with a great effort, lifted his head and
shoulders and sat down. He gently laid Tym’s head in his lap and smoothed his
hair.
“What’s wrong?” he cried, “Are you hit?” he asked, searching the little
Mutants relatively unscathed body armor. Then he looked at the helmet,
discarded on the rug and gasped. He saw the bump and gasped.
“Not that,” Tym choked. “M-my head ins-s-ide. I h-hurt my-s-self. Over-did …”
he wheezed, his pale head lolling over to the side. Xyn saw the veins in his
forehead pulsing, and his lips were turning blue.
“Hunter!” Xyn called out, “Tym’s hurt bad!”
The Hunter ran to his side, his Psi tired and his body aching. He took one
look at Xyn’s damage, grimaced, and then probed at Tym. Xyn watched the color
drain from his face.
“What is it?” the young Psion cried. “What’s wrong with him?”
The Hunter shook his head. “He’s exhausted, Xyn. He’s been running his little
Mind full tilt almost since the day we had that Group-Mind thing after the
attempt on your lives back in the Ruins. He just KNOWS that someone’s out
there, and he’s been determined to find them. He’s been watching me, you,
Jayk, and looking all this time, and over all that distance. Then this fight,
what he did back there to those guards, and I’m pretty sure he’s been the one
tampering with those two little Mutants that Abrams is watching back our
crafts. NO ONE learns that fast! He’s just burned himself out, Xyn.”
“AND?!” Xyn cried, tears beginning to run down his flawless face.
Tym coughed, weakly reaching up a small hand. Xyn held his own up, and the
Hunter reached over to pull Xyn’s glove off. He took Tym’s shaking hand in his
own, willing him to live.
_Wilson,_ Tym sent weakly, his not-quite-Psi a stuttering a quiet whisper.
“What about him?” Xyn asked, his voice choked with tears.
“Wils-son … a-f-fraid … Jayk’s c-collar … can’t hold it m-much longer,” Tym
gasped. “Fighting with s-s-someone …”
The Hunter snapped his fingers and nodded. “I got it! Xyn, focus your Psi on
just Tym. We know he’s different than us, somehow. We’re not used to a Psi
like his, it’s so strange! But once you ‘get’ it, you can feel it! He’s
fighting someone right now and trying to keep Wilson off balance too! If he
doesn’t let off soon …”
Xyn nodded, his eyes suddenly alight as Kefe brought them a glass of water and
a medkit. He took another and turned. “I’m going outside to check on the
firebug and Adam,” he stated, nodding to the Hunter who nodded back.
Then Xyn felt it. Another Mind, on a strange and unfamiliar operating Psionic
level, was definitely there. He could feel the mental ‘carnage’ going on, and
suddenly felt Tym’s exhaustion. Ignoring the pain in his back and fueled by
his own fears of failure and of losing Tym or Jayk, Xyn joined that fight. He
merged into the fray, gently pushing the little one aside. Tym didn’t resist,
and when the Hunter was sure that he was ‘clear’ of it, he injected him with
something from the medkit that Kefe had brought. Tym’s breathing eased, and he
fell asleep as his Mind shut down for the first time in months.
From the top of the stairs leading off from the dining room came a wicked
laugh. “I hate Psions,” Wilson sneered, clutching Jayk by the arm and holding
a blaster to his head. “I wondered why I was suddenly so scared to even move,
for fear that lovely Jayk here might bite me,” he mused. “Ah, well. Welcome to
my home, gentlemen, or rather, what’s left of it? You’ll get a bill, of
course.” Then he looked upon the Hunter, who stood up slowly. “Aren’t you
dead?” he asked.
The Hunter shook his head, having opened his visor some time before. “No, I’m
not,” he replied slowly. “Nice to see you again, Wilson. And guards? Must have
cost you a fortune.”
Wilson sneered. “You just can’t get good help anymore,” he complained. “The
damn Government sends agents, I hire guards. Some odd fat man comes here and
tells me that some Mutant is going to kill me. What a time I’ve had! Oh, how
is the perverse old slob, by the way?”
“Dead,” the Hunter replied coldly.
“Good,” Wilson replied, “I didn’t like him anyway.”
Then the Hunter turned his gaze towards Jayk. _Prepare yourself,_ he advised.
Jayk saw the Hunter as well and smiled. His silver-capped fangs hung down just
past his lower lip. His perfect white teeth were framed in those ruby lips,
and his almond-shaped black eyes and sloped black brows raced back towards his
pointed ears in which hung two perfect silver rings each. He turned his head
to look at his Master, and his long black braids, pulled back into a thick
tail, rustled against his back. His dark skin was slightly oiled and shone in
the remaining light, mute testimony to Wilson’s plans for the evening. Upon
each wrist and ankle was a padded silver cuff, more fashionable than
functional. Upon his upper arms, which showed some signs of musculature, were
two silver bands that reminded the Hunter of something from an ancient history
lesson. There was also a silver ring on each of his middle fingers, both with
a shining sapphire inlaid stone. The Hunter looked closer, and the rings drew
his eyes to the missing finger. Jayk also wore the same silver slippers that
the Hunter recalled, and his only other pieces of clothing were his belt and
slave collar.
The collar and belt were also silver. The belt fit him well, and it encircled
his slim waist and connected to the two silver leg pieces that ran from the
sides and up under his thighs to meet in the back. It fit much like a pair of
shorts, only there was nothing in the front to cover Jayk’s nudity. The belt
was built to display Jayk’s near-perfect form, and the fact that he was a
complete e-XY with no sign that he’d ever been born to manhood.
The Hunter gazed upon him and began to sweat. Oddly enough, since the
reprogramming of his Suit, he didn’t feel the familiar frustrations that he
was so accustomed to. He smiled back, but he WAS sweating. Heavily. His eyes
focused on the slave collar with its huge sapphire inset, and his smile grew
broader. He knew the model number of the collar, and saw that the indicator
light near the stone was off. Smashing the control box for the house’s
security field had neutralized it after all!
He smiled again.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so damn happy, were I you,” Wilson sneered, starting down
the steps with Jayk in tow. “Now here’s what we’re going to do. I know how you
feel about this one, Hunter. I know you want him. I’d like to have some of my
funds back, so I’m willing to trade. You’re going to take me to your craft,
we’re going to get some Authority out here, and once I’m safe from this motley
terrorist squad of yours, I’ll hand Jayk over to you – papers and all! He’ll
be yours, I’ll be safe, and we can part company. That’s after you Exterminate
THEM, that is!” Wilson spat, gesturing with his free hand at Xyn and Tym.
“I’m a civilized man, Hunter. What do you say? After all, they’re just
Unapproveds. Mutants. WE’RE different, you and I. Do we have a deal?”
“I think we should ask Jayk about that,” the Hunter replied. _Xyn?_
From his own struggle to throw off the one who had been fighting Tym, Xyn
replied.
_Do it Jayk! **Do it now!**_ Xyn cried out, clutching Tym to his breast and
rocking him as he fought his own Psionic war. Somewhere out there was that
Mind, the one he wanted, and he was so close! More than anything, he wanted to
run to Jayk, to destroy Wilson on the spot, but he could NOT leave Tym
undefended. This other Mind was raging for blood, as was Xyn as well. He
looked up at Jayk, his eyes full of pleading … and longing.
Jayk looked down at the still form in Xyn’s lap. He sighed and stopped on the
stairs, jerking his hand out of his Master’s grasp. Xyn was asking him to do
the one thing that he swore he’d never do again – turn Beast.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Wilson demanded.
“I’m getting ready to go home,” Jayk replied calmly, kicking off his slippers
and jumping back up five steps with fluid grace, much like Kefe’s.
Wilson aimed his blaster at him, but Jayk shook his head. “If you fire on me,
the Hunter will shoot you. If you fire at him, his armor will block it, bad as
it IS damaged, it will. Besides, Adam and Kefe and Chriss are still out there,
and they’ll be back soon. The Hunter needs only to send ONE tiny little
Psionic urge out to them, and they’ll come in here and shred you! And don’t
even think about stunning me with my collar. It went offline when the Hunter
smashed the control box. I’d say you’re in for a bad night, Master!”
“You’ll never get off the grounds, Jayk,” Wilson countered.
Jayk, however, shook his head and pointed to down the steps towards the
doorway where the control panel used to be. Wilson’s face blanched, and Jayk
snarled. “Who’s going to stop me?”
He stared in horror at his slave, his mind racing with the memories of the
passion-filled nights he’s spent with Jayk in his bed as Jayk began to change.
His dark skin turned even darker, and his black eyes began to glow red. Jayk’s
smooth back hunched down a bit, and when he opened his mouth, the silver
cosmetic caps popped off of his razor-sharp fangs as they extended down to
almost touch his smooth chin. His already long arms seemed to grow even
longer, and his nails extended into claws.
Wilson gazed in terror at the metamorphosis taking place before him.
From Jayk’s throat came an inhuman growl, as his entire body seemed to shift,
becoming bulkier. The ancient Slow-Mutant raised up then, and his cry of rage
echoed through the house. It brought Kefe, Adam and Chriss running to the
shattered patio doors, but they froze in their tracks as Jayk seemed to take
flight.
Wilson’s trembling hand dropped the blaster, and Jayk seized him in an embrace
that was anything but passionate. “Kiss me, Master,” he growled, sinking his
long fangs into Wilson’s mouth. Blood poured and Wilson screamed as Jayk’s
fangs tore at his lips and tongue. Jayk’s own rough and lengthened tongue
entered his mouth then, tearing skin as it went. His mouth filled with the
hot, salty taste of fresh blood and he snarled again, throwing back his head
to suck in a deep breath as Wilson’s blood ran down his chest. Jayk struck
again and reared his head back once more, pulling away hard and breaking his
Master’s teeth as he did. He spat teeth and blood down the stairs, and Wilson
struggled to break away from the Beast upon him.
Jayk held fast, his long nails ripping into Wilson’s back and shredding his
leather smoking jacket. More blood poured from those wounds as he fell,
rolling down the stairs with Jayk gracefully skipping over him. He slid down
the banister and landed upon his Master again. When he reached the bottom, at
the feet of the dumbstruck Hunter, Jayk was fully upon him again with his
wicked claws. Months of frustration, shame, and the longing for Xyn and home
welled up within him as Jayk straddled his Master and raised a clawed hand to
strike.
“Jayk,” Wilson gasped through his ruined mouth, his eyes filled with fear –
and amazingly – lust!
Jayk saw where those eyes were focused, and snarled.
“No,” he growled, struggling to keep hold of his senses, unlike when he’d
changed and killed Kel. “Never again, Master,” he said, his free hand running
over his own empty crotch as Wilson moaned. Then, to add insult to injury,
Jayk said, “I HATED it when you fucked me! You never could make ME cum! It was
all for YOU! Xyn got it right the FIRST time!”
And with that, he brought his hand down, hard. His claws ripped into Wilson’s
chest, and when he drew his hand back, he held his Master’s beating heart in
his hand.
Wilson gazed upon the sight in shock, vomited up blood, then turned his head
and died.
Silence filled the room as Jayk rolled backwards off of his dead Master. No
one moved, except for Kefe, who rushed to his side with his medkit. He watched
Jayk change back slowly, and when he was sure that his old friend was quite
all right, he helped him to his feet. Jayk swayed and wobbled, but he didn’t
pass out. His black eyes were full of tears, and he was shaking his head; his
braids rustled.
“I never wanted to do that again,” he moaned, leaning upon Kefe.
“You did what you had to do, buddy,” Kefe replied, looking him up and down.
“And what’s with this get-up?”
Jayk laughed weakly as Kefe got him over to a small divan that was not too
badly burnt and sat him down. The Hunter joined him as Adam and Chriss, arms
about each others’ shoulders, looked on. “Hello, Jayk,” the Hunter said,
letting the ancient young one lean on him.
Jayk said nothing. He simply let the Hunter hold him while he cried.
Xyn caught momentary flickers of the events in the other room. He saw Jayk at
the top of the stairs. He saw the change, saw the descent. He saw Wilson’s
death, and although he longed to run to Jayk and embrace him, he stood firm.
Still, the Mind that was attacking him could not be isolated. It dodged his
every strike, coming back with force to hit him and retreat. It taunted him,
speaking to him as he fought with it and tried to protect Tym.
_Give up.
Never!
You cannot defeat me!
Who are you?
Who are YOU?
What?
They didn’t tell you, I can see that! Oh, how I love a secret!
I’m not that stupid! You won’t distract me!
I speak the truth!
And you attack little ones? How brave.
Tym is no ordinary little one. I have to admit that I never expected to run
into HIM again, though.
What of him?
I got rid of the little bastard once, and I’ll do it again!
You’ll have to go through me first!
Leave him! The Tym-Experiment was a failure. We thought him long dead.
No! He’s not a failure! He’s special!
No, he’s a mistake. YOU are special, Xyn Psion._
THAT got Xyn’s attention. It was the name that Shar had given him, and the
Mind that he fought with reminded him a great deal of her. The other Mind
picked up on that.
_Yes, Shar! We know her. We respect her. Misguided as she is.
What do you know of her?
Enough.
_This time, however, Xyn’s adversary faltered at the thought of Shar. Whoever
it was, he or she was afraid of her! But why?
_You have only one viable course before you, Xyn Psion, and it is NOT with
the Mutants of the Ruins. Do you really think that they can win this coming
War? Already there is movement, action to stop them! The Ruins will be gone
long before you arrive there!_
Tym stirred in Xyn’s lap and moaned as the others came into the room. They
said nothing, watching Xyn wage his own private fight that was, in many ways,
more terrible than the fight that had raged in the house not so long ago.
Xyn looked down at the little one that he had taken in. He remembered Tym, so
small and helpless and so close to starving when he’d found him at the first
Transport ship. He remembered the strange Places of the Mind, the Waters and
the Wild, that Tym had shown him how to reach. He thought back to the attempt
upon their lives, of how sick the little one had been, and of how long it had
taken him to recover. He recalled his time of isolation, running the Ruins and
the Flats, the Forest, climbing the stairs of the old buildings and reaching
for the very sky as he struggled to tone his young body. And he thought of
Jayk – how he loved him, what he’d taught him, and how he’d missed him so very
badly for so long.
_Such a waste,_ the other Mind said flatly.
_No. Not a waste. Necessity.
But why?
_Then Xyn felt something new. This other Mind respected him. It fought with
him, but it didn’t really want to kill him! It DID want to kill the other
Outcasts, but not him! In a strange way, it even liked him. It wanted him.
It had plans for him.
Xyn paused in his counterstrike, creating an illusion of deep pondering. The
other fell for it.
_Yes!_ It exulted, _You can be, you WILL be, so much more! You and your
descendents were created, Xyn. YOU have a purpose, and it’s a grand one! We
want you. We need you! Badly! What can these Outcasts and lesser beings mean
to one like you? You have no idea of what you and yours will bring the World!_
Xyn laughed aloud, and the rest of them stared at him.
The phrase “You and your descendents were created, Xyn,” struck him as
hilarious.
This other Mind didn’t know! It had a plan, but surely it hadn’t counted on
Xyn’s castration! It had gambled a great deal, it seemed, upon Xyn’s ability
to father more little ones. Again, Xyn laughed as he stroked Tym’s pale hair
and held him tenderly.
_Charming,_ that Mind spoke to him, _And so fitting. Father figure, Xyn
Psion, Father to the World! Come to us with this ability of yours, this
ability to love and be loved in return. Take your rightful place, Heir of
Kadens the Unifier!_
Xyn nearly choked as he heard his title spoken in his Mind. Suddenly a flood
of images that had lain dormant in his Mind came to the surface. A man in a
black business suit was there, and a fat man. A robot was carrying him, and
then there was Mr. Rick and the other little ones! Then something came from
Tym’s Mind as well – fear. All but shut down into unconsciousness, something
that Tym must have hidden in Xyn’s mind at some past time rose up to be
noticed. Xyn breathed deeply, amazed at the new information and how they had
hidden it from him. One of his eyebrows raised, and he scratched at his head.
Tym knew this Mind, and he was afraid of it.
_That’s right,_ the other said to him, _Do you understand?_
_Kadens the Unifier is my father?_ Xyn mused. _But he’s been dead for a LONG
time?_
The other Mind realized that Xyn wasn’t grasping all of what it knew, yet it
let it go. Xyn appeared to be off balance, and it relished the thought as it
made a move for Tym.
Xyn, however, was NOT off balance and he struck back.
_ **Tell me, is this job open to a eunuch?**_ Xyn asked as the full force of
his Mind finally grasped the very essence of the other and held it tightly.
With a great effort, he then recalled the pain of his own brutal castration
and threw the memory at the other Mind. It was a trick he’d learned from Tym.
_What?_ The other almost screamed, struggling in vain to break out of the grip
that Xyn’s memory of pain had it locked into.
_You know, a eunuch, an e-XY. I’m castrated! Didn’t you know? The XY-hormones
were messing up my Mutant abilities, so I got castrated. Problem solved!
Wasn’t that why the spies in the Ruins drugged me up on HRT, to limit my
abilities? So, do you still want me?_
The other Mind screamed as Xyn tore into it anew. He saw a man, somewhere far
away, in a shining New City to the Far North where the snows had already come.
Somehow, this man was a powerful Psion. Xyn had never met him before, but he
felt so familiar! Others were watching the man, listening to him. They were
worried, Xyn could tell. Many of them were in a near panic, and Xyn laughed.
_Descendents? That’s going to be a serious problem, sir._
_You little fool!_ It screamed. _YOU?! An e-XY? DO you have any clue what
you’ve done? After all the Resources that went into making you? You were the
last, Xyn Psion! The LAST of the line! There can be no others! This cannot
be!_ It wailed in agony, which confused Xyn.
_Making me?_
The other Mind did not answer.
_“I am growing weary of you,”_ Xyn said aloud as well as with his Mind. _“It
is the truth. Unless I am cloned, I cannot bear little ones, as you ask.
Whatever you think of me, whatever you mean that you hide from me, must all be
irrelevant now. Were you not expending so much power to keep it from me, you
might have been able to defeat me. But now it’s too late!”_
And with that, Xyn struck a Psionic blow such as he’d never done before. He
never knew where the power came from, as tired as he was. Later in life, he
would convince himself that it had come from his status as an e-XY Mutant, his
Psi unfettered by the lack of XY-hormones. He never found out from whence it
really came.
Chriss fainted, and the Hunter fell over backwards. Back at the craft, Edward
IV passed out. Up in the Ruins East, Shar jumped up from her control panel and
her chat with Duncan-2 about the actions of the Mutants in the Ruins West and
the global power grids. Every Psion Mutant on the Northern Continent, in fact,
took notice of the Force of Xyn’s Mind sweeping to the New City Far North.
Those who did not faint heard the death scream of that strange Mind as it fell
down towards the Pit, taking its identity and a good many secrets with it.
Xyn felt it go, and he exhaled hard. His eyes glazed over as he shivered, and
then he passed out.
**IV
The Book of Life**
The crafts landed softly in the wreckage of Wilson’s back yard. Abrams emerged
from the first one, and a rather shaky and bewildered Edward IV got out of the
second. His eyes were wild, and he looked stunned. Abrams smiled at him,
watching the small progression coming across the lawn. It had been at the
Hunter’s request that he’d brought the crafts in so that they wouldn’t have to
carry their fallen comrades back and make a faster getaway before any more
Authority or Government figures could arrive. Their time for escaping with the
satellites and Networks scrambled was running out as well, and time was of the
essence.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Eddie?” Abrams asked the little novice Psion.
Edward shook his head, his thick red hair waving. “I didn’t know I could do
that,” he mumbled, leaning heavily upon ‘R’.
“I’m sorry, but we had to do it. You don’t know how to fly, and I do. I know
you and ‘R’ are tired from the fight with the household staff, and I’m sorry I
had to wake you up with those nasty smelling salts. You OK?”
Edward and ‘R’ both nodded.
“You need a real name,” Edward said to his friend.
‘R’ smiled.
Abrams then gasped as he saw what the Hunter carried in his arms.
Xyn’s body armor was still curling small wisps of smoke here and there, and
his visor was cracked. The Hunter carried him face-down, and Abrams saw the
gaping hole in the back of the young one’s armor. Jayk, having not been
involved in the real fighting, came beside the Hunter with Tym in his arms.
Tym’s armor was scuffed in a few places and his helmet was off, but his face
had a gray pallor to it that Abrams didn’t like; there was also the growing
bump on his head. The little one’s breathes came in short, ragged gasps and he
whimpered as he hung limply in Jayk’s long arms.
The rest followed behind them, weapons draw and Mutant abilities at the ready.
They were all tired, but there was no time to rest. Very carefully, they began
boarding the crafts. “This isn’t going to work,” the Hunter commented, setting
his weapon for a tight beam and cutting the back seats loose in the stolen
craft. He threw them out, making room for the injured to lie down.
“Where’s Dan?” Kefe asked, suddenly looking around with his eyes shining.
“I haven’t seen him since the fight broke out,” the Hunter commented. “Gods,
that little one can run!”
Chriss swept the area with his Psi, and he whistled. “He’ll be here in a few
minutes. Would you believe he ran to the nearest neighbor? He’s swiped another
medkit and even gotten a report from what’s left of the Networks.” Chriss then
closed his eyes and concentrated hard. His true calling was as a Pyro, but he
did have that limited Psi.
“We haven’t been found out yet, but Adam did sort of get the neighbors’
attention. They wanted to call the Authorities, but Dan says the
communications system won’t work! The power’s out in town as well. Wait, here
he comes now!”
Almost before Chriss could finish the sentence, Dan appeared, breathing hard.
He tossed the large medkit to Kefe and sat down heavily in the grass. “I hate
running in this armor,” he complained. Then he looked around. “I see we were
successful.”
The Hunter laughed. “Neat trick with the security system, Dan. And thanks for
the medkit and getting clear of the action. Your mother would have never
forgiven us if we’d gotten you killed.”
Dan smiled. “You were all busy, and I’m not good with a blaster. Besides, we
needed information and it’s hard to watch the Broadcasts with people shooting
at you! Nice neighbors, really. I didn’t even have to shoot any of them.
Anyways, the Networks are slowly coming back online, and the Government’s got
one Comm-Tell orbiter working again. Martial Law is going on in all the New
Cities, and the Old Cities are still under lockdown. No one’s allowed out, so
the trip home could be rough. Every single member of the Authority is on duty,
and there’s more craft in the air than anyone even knew existed! The only
thing goin’ for us is the fact that everyone’s in a panic, and it’s pretty
much chaos in the Cities.”
Then he paused.
“They also mentioned shots fired at the New Cities in the West and the
original Old City East. It could be a rough flight home.”
“Shots from who?” Chriss asked.
“The Ruins,” Dan replied somberly.
The Hunter and Abrams nodded at him.
“What do you think?” Abrams asked.
“I think we fly hard and high and make for the Ruins,” he replied, boosting
the little ones up into the crafts and settling everyone in. Very carefully,
he lifted Xyn, and then Tym, up to Abrams who laid them out in the back of the
modified craft. Kefe tended to them as best he could, delicately removing
Xyn’s badly damaged body armor and wrinkling his nose at the burnt smell. Tym
moaned as Adam moved to help strip him as well, but he did not regain
consciousness.
“Let me help,” Jayk asked Kefe, who nodded and handed him a damp cloth.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Abrams suggested. “They’re bound to show up
any time now, and I don’t want to be here when they do.”
The crafts took the sky and leveled out for a high cruise mode at maximum
speed. Adam, in the Outcasts’ craft in front with ‘R’ at his side stood ready
for an attack. They didn’t want to waste power shooting down enemies, and the
Bomber Mutants, although near exhausted, stood watch like troopers. Abrams and
the Hunter flew behind them with the little ones and Dan, having made room for
Jayk in the lead craft.
“Damn,” Kefe breathed, finally getting Xyn’s ruined backplate off of him,
exposing his back. It was covered with ugly blistered burns, some of which
oozed and were stuck to his black undershirt. Very slowly, they finished
stripping them.
As Kefe was finishing his examination of Tym for physical wounds, he looked up
to see Jayk staring at Xyn’s naked form. Kefe covered Tym’s unmarked body with
a blanket. Very slowly, Jayk reached out a long-fingered hand and touched the
smoothly healed wound where the young Psion had been castrated. “He told me,”
Jayk whispered, “He reached out that Psi of his all the way to here when he
was being cut. I cried myself to sleep that night, Kefe,” Jayk whispered,
tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ve been an e-XY for many Cycles that I forget
when I was cut. I couldn’t believe he did it!”
Kefe laid a hand on his old friend’s shoulder, and then pulled a small blanket
from one of the emergency packs. He wrapped it about Jayk, who was trembling
and not well dressed for the trip to colder climates. “He did it to save his
Psi,” the Nighstalker replied.
“I know,” Jayk agreed in a sick voice full of regret, “But still … I never
wanted him to … to end up like … me.”
Kefe smiled. “He isn’t like you, Jayk.”
“He came for me. He always said he would,” Jayk said in wonder.
“Help me with his burns,” Kefe asked, propping the unconscious Xyn up so that
Jayk could hold him.
“Worse than it looks,” Jayk replied, “Second degree. No charred skin.” He
tapped at the piece of shattered armor. “Good stuff,” he commented, carefully
spreading some ointment over Xyn’s wounds with a trembling hand.
“What about Tym?” Kefe asked.
Jayk shook his head. “I don’t know, other than that bump on his head. He’s a
Psion, or something. I’m not. I really don’t know. Do we have ship to ship
comm.?”
Kefe nodded, and called for an open channel.
“Dan, it’s Jayk! We need to call your mom!”
“Why?”
“Tym’s not responding to anything we do for him. His breathing’s not good,
either. I think it’s mental, not injury to his body. Shar would know.”
Dan thought for a moment, then a soft feminine voice filled with anxiety came
over the speakers.
“Dan, oh gods, Dan, are you all well? I’ve been waiting to hear!”
“We’re fine, thanks, and you?” Jayk answered.
“Jayk!” Shar cried with relief, “Oh, Jayk. Forgive me! Is anyone hurt?”
“Xyn’s got some burns and he’s out cold, but Tym could be bad. He collapsed
fighting a Psi-fight with someone up North, Shar. He doesn’t look good.”
“Hunter,” Shar asked without hesitation, “Can you feel anything? How is his
Mind?”
“That’s just it, my Lady,” the Hunter replied over the open channel running
through the Mutants pilfered satellite, “I tried that. There’s not much there.
It’s like he’s an empty shell. I didn’t want to alarm the others. I was rather
busy at the time, but from what I could pick up on, Xyn and Tym were both in
one hell of a fight with some Psion.”“I know where Tym is, then,” she stated
confidently. “Are Xyn’s wounds all physical?”
“They are,” the Hunter confirmed as his Psi swept the two unconscious ones
again.
“Don’t wake Xyn, then. Go to his Mind, Hunter. Tell him to go to the wild
place where the waters are blue. There will he find Tym, and only he can bring
him back. IF he can be brought back. If their fight was as bad as you say,
Hunter, it may be too late for them.”
“Xyn’s tougher than that!” Jayk disagreed, sitting cross-legged on the floor
with Xyn’s bald head in his lap. “He’ll find Tym and bring him back. I know he
can!”
“We shall see,” Shar said.
Very softly, Jayk leaned down and kissed Xyn’s forehead. He then reached over
and took Tym’s small and held it in his own with Xyn’s. His eyes went wide for
a moment, then he relaxed.
“What is it?” Kefe demanded.
“I can hear him,” Jayk smiled. He’s there. Where we were. In that place in his
Mind. The safe place where everything is right and you can rest. He’s writing,
like he’s trying to save something special.”
Then Jayk bowed his head, still holding their hands as the crafts flew on
towards the Ruins.
“What is he saying?” Chriss asked from up front, studying his injured hand as
the craft cruised on automatic. Beside him sat Adam with ‘R’ in his lap,
scanning the skies with their instruments and eyes.
“’Come away oh human child …’” Jayk began, but paused. “It’s a very old poem I
read to Xyn one night when he first came and saw all my books …”
The sky was a deep cobalt blue with only a few puffy, white clouds gliding by
high above the soft and green grass. A warm and gentle wind blew, rippling the
waters of the huge lake just off behind the great tree that was all decked out
in the botanical finery of Colorfall. Birds came and went from its mighty
limbs, singing and dipping into the grass as other small wild things ran here
and there past the little one who sat leaning up against the rough bark with a
book in his lap and a quill in his hand.
The breeze blew past him, through him somehow, it felt. He wrote quickly, his
fine penmanship drawing ornate letters in the leather-bound volume in his lap
that was almost bigger than he was. His eyes and hair were pale, and his skin
was a very white color with a rosy glow to it. The grass and earth were soft
and warm under his naked skin, and he dug his toes into the loose dirt as he
wrote. He smiled as he heard the grass rustle and looked up.
Someone was coming.
The other approached him quickly, running through the tall grass with the wind
whistling in his small, round ears. His head was bald, and his naked skin
darker. His eyes were fixed upon the naked little one under the great tree,
but those eyes were haunted. He stopped just in front of the little writer and
smiled down at him, reaching a hand out to him.
The little one shook his head, and the older one sat down beside him to pull
him close and hold him as he wrote.
“Nice book.”
“Thank you,” the little replied politely, still writing and smiling at his
friend.
“What are you writing?”
“Something for you.”
“Why?”
The little one thought for a moment, scratching his ear with the quill that
never needed ink. “So you remember it all,” he mused.
His friend smiled back. “You always did like long stories and old things,” he
replied, “What’s it about?”
“Us.”
The older one raised an eyebrow as the wind blew a bit harder, sending a
shower of brightly colored leaves down upon them. Somewhere out in the lake, a
fish jumped and the birds continued to sing high above their heads. He noticed
that the wind was just a bit cooler as he pulled the little one closer.
“I don’t want you to forget,” the little one said in a firm tone.
“Forget? Me? Forget what?”
He looked up at his friend, the only friend that he’d ever really had and
trusted, and smiled sadly.
“But why so sad?” His friend asked, puzzled.
The little one sighed heavily as another gust of wind, stronger this time,
brought down more leaves on them. The wind was much colder this time, and they
shivered as they held each other. The little one wrote down a few more lines,
amazingly fast, and then began to cry. His tears fell upon the last blank page
of the book as he closed it.
“I knew you’d find me here,” he whispered, leaning his pale head upon his
friend’s chest and smiling.
“Yes,” his friend mused, rubbing his head as he kissed his small ear, “But
it’s getting cold. What say we go back?”
But the little one shook his head as he stared up into his friend’s eyes. “I’m
not going back, Xyn.”
“What?!”
The little one closed his eyes and rubbed them. “I’m too tired.”
“Tym?”
“It was too much, Xyn. The fight. I’m hurt, back there where we really are.
I’m hurt bad, and no one can save me. Not even you.”
“How bad?” Xyn replied, almost panicking and bringing his Psi to bear. His
Mind slipped into Tym’s, and the pain struck him hard. He shook his head,
gritting his teeth.
“Oh, gods no! But it’s just a little bump on the head! How can that … how can
it … It’s not THAT bad!” Xyn cried, clutching Tym tighter, as if his very
touch could somehow make it right again. Then he pulled back a bit and stared
into the little one’s somber face. “You knew this would happen!”
Tym nodded.
“The first blast hit me in the visor, Xyn. And I was holding that other Mind
off for a long time. He was strong, but he didn’t understand me. He was too
busy hating me for that.”
Tym coughed, but went on.
“We never named me, did we? I’m not a Psion, you guys all said. You thought I
was more, or something new. But I’m all worn out, Xyn,” he explained, handing
him the heavy book, “I’m so very tired.”
“What’s in here?” Xyn choked, his tears finally spilling down his smooth
cheeks. Tym reached up a small hand and touched them, one at a time.
“Everything I know, I guess,” he replied. “Nothing HERE is really what it
seems. Think of the book as my Mind, my Memories. I could pass them to others,
you know, like I did when I met you and forced you here by accident. Or like I
did to scare Shar. But this book is ME, Xyn. It’s how I feel, what I think,
maybe even all that I am. Or all that I was. It’s all in there.”
Xyn shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t take it, Tym! In this place, if it
is what you say it is, taking it might kill you!”
Then Tym shook HIS head. “I’m dying anyway,” he said softly, snuggling into
Xyn’s warm body and rubbing his soft hair on his chest. “Just hold me for a
little bit.”
And Xyn did just that.
The wind blew colder as he held his little friend, the only one who’d seen him
in the months after his castration and the lonely time that he’d spent running
the Ruins in his desperate longing for Jayk. The only one who’d been able to
comfort him, the only one that he could face. The one to whom he’d read a
story every night, teaching him, in turn, to read. The one he’d woken up with
in his bed every morning, yet shared only his Mind and chaste cuddling with.
The one who’d saved him from madness.
The leaves continued to fall upon them as they sat in the green grass and as
the sun dipped low into the West, coloring the unending sky with purples and
oranges and reds and yellows that dazzled their eyes. Finally, the wind became
uncomfortably cold as they clung to each other. They held the large book
between them in their laps, holding hands atop the leather covering where the
letters “T-Y-M” were etched in ornate golden script.
A leaf landed upon their clasped hands, and they looked up.
The great tree was naked as well, all its fine colors gone. Gray clouds were
beginning to fill the blue sky, and the wind was picking up with a biting
chill. They shivered more, but neither of them moved as the grass turned brown
and dry. Tym felt Xyn’s smooth skin on his own, warm and darker than his was.
Xyn felt Tym’s soft and pale mop of hair against his chest, and the little one
reached up to place a small hand firmly atop his bald head. He smiled at him,
and Xyn saw that the slight magenta glow was gone from his cheeks and that his
gray and colorless eyes were tired and haunted.
He opened his mouth to speak, and a snowflake fell. It landed on Tym’s nose,
lingered a moment, then melted.
Tym closed his eyes and sighed.
“Xyn,” he said in a voice barely audible.
“Yes?” Xyn answered, holding him tightly and rubbing his back.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Xyn asked through his tears.
“For finding me. For feeding me. For not leaving me. For not hating me when
you found out what kind of Mutant I was. For not being afraid of me. For
giving me a home,” Tym gasped, his breath coming in ragged and labored little
puffs. Then, with a great effort, he opened his mouth to speak again.
“And for loving me.”
Xyn bent down and placed his mouth over Tym’s, kissing him, as if somehow his
breath could forestall what the little Mutant had predicted. Tym’s lips were
cold as his own warm ones moved over them. He did not, however, recoil. He
savored the moment, letting his aching Psi wash into Tym’s Mind as it began to
finally shut down. In his free hand, he clutched the book as he supported his
little friend with the other. The wind picked up again, and a thick cloud of
snow suddenly blew down from the sky to dust the green grass in white and
chill the two laying under the tree.
When Xyn pulled back, he was almost blind from the combination of snow and his
own tears. He took one last look at the face that he’d first seen on the very
first stolen Transport ship in the Ruins, long before he’d become the person
known as Xyn Psion - Heir to the Unifier, and was himself a frightened and
lost little one without so much as even a real name.
His heart broke as Tym drew in what Xyn knew to be his last breath.
“I love you, Xyn.”
Xyn held him tightly, rocking him back and forth as the snow continued to
fall. He shivered, but Tym was still and unmoving in his strong arms. He
kissed his forehead, and noticed the bump there.
“I love you, too Tym.”
Very slowly, Tym’s graying lips turned upwards in a smile; then he lay very
still.
The cold soaked into Xyn’s very Being as he held his friend, rocking his small
and unmoving form back and forth and staring at the beautiful book in their
laps. The snow blanketed them, the sky darkened and became speckled with
stars, but Xyn did not feel it as he held the small body against his. He cried
for a long time, alone in that wild place near the waters, until the sun came
back up and the snows stopped and the winds turned warm once again. When he
finally felt the soft, green grass brushing against his leg and smelled the
fragrance of the magenta blossoms of the great tree, he gently laid his little
friend at its base in a clump of tiny, white flowers that opened into bloom
before his very eyes. His hands never left the small boy, nor the book as he
knelt there.
He blinked, unable to stop the tears. It seemed as if he’d been crying for so
very long, but yet they would not stop. He clenched his eyes shut, shaking his
head and whining in grief. He scanned as far as he could with his powerful
Psi, amazed at its regeneration, but there was no one else there. He felt the
cool and delicate skin under his hands, but when he looked back, there was
only the supple leather cover of the large book that he held tightly. He
pulled it close to his chest and bowed his head. The sweet smelling white
flowers waved in the breeze, and as the tree began to unfurl its leaves and
shower him with magenta blossoms, Xyn turned to go.
He left the waters and the wild, and left a piece of his broken heart there
under the tree.
He never returned.
_ **Goodbye, Tym,**_ he called out to the safe place where they’d once taken
refuge, but no one answered him.
High above the eastern seaboard and speeding back towards the Ruins, the craft
dodged a trio of patrol ships that had somehow detected it. The New Cities
below them were dark, and there were no signs of life on the streets. It
almost looked like the Ruins, only newer. It seemed as if everyone had taken
the advice of the Authority and holed up.
“Authority craft,” Chriss called over the main communication channel, “Break
off your pursuit or be destroyed. Our mission is not your concern,” he
advised, hoping that they’d buy the markings of the stolen craft.
They didn’t.
“Unidentified craft,” they responded, “Your vessel is reported stolen. Land
immediately or we will open fire.”
“Fuck them,” Jayk growled. “Get ‘em, Adam!”
“WITH pleasure!”
Adam and ‘R’ knocked two of them down as Chriss set fire to the third. His
evasive movements of the craft jostled those in the back, and Kefe began to
swear.
“What is it?” Chriss called back, hearing the noises from the small medical
instruments and Kefe’s and Jayk’s oaths and curses.
“Tym’s not breathing!” Kefe cried. “I can’t find a pulse!” There was furious
beeping from one of the handheld scanners. “His vitals are crashing!”
“Why?” Chriss shouted back to them.
“I don’t know,” Kefe called back. “He was dozing, then everything just
stopped!”
Beside them, as they worked furiously to revive the little one, Xyn moaned and
sat up slowly. He blinked several times, trying to get his bearings, then
turned to watch them working on Tym for only a second.
“Let him go,” he said in a gentle voice, pulling his blanket tighter around
himself and shaking.
Jayk and Kefe paused to face him, shaking their heads. From the front, Chriss
and Adam craned their necks to watch as the craft flew in auto mode again.
Kefe had slapped a small neuro-stimulator to Tym’s brow and was preparing to
shock him.
_ **”Let him go,”**_ Xyn repeated, holding his arms strangely in front of
himself as if he were carrying something, “Please.”
Jayk looked deep into Xyn’s eyes, and without watching, he moved his hand to
stay Kefe’s move to shock Tym’s heart back into beating. He shook his head,
taking Xyn’s hand in his other.
There were no words as Kefe nodded and pulled the blanket up over Tym’s small
face. He turned off the medical scanners and repacked the kit. Then the
Nightstalker got up and went up front with his two friends to leave Xyn and
Jayk alone in the back of the craft. They had waited for so long to be
together again, and it was a private moment. He closed the divider between the
front and the back seats and knelt between Adam and Chriss. His eyes were not
glowing as he sniffed. ‘R’ looked at him and sighed heavily as Adam rested his
chin on the little one’s shoulder. No one spoke.
They simply stared into one another’s eyes, taking in the sight. It had been
so long, with only brief Psionic contacts over the past Cycle and random
assurances from Tym that everything was fine. Very slowly, their hands began
to explore one another, touching here and there. They were both familiar, yet
different. There were subtle changes in Jayk the Slow Mutant, and major
changes in Xyn. Jayk was taller, a bit more muscular, and Xyn was much more
so. Jayk touched him. Xyn touched back. Hands explored familiar features, new
features, and Xyn helped Jayk remove his ‘clothing’, as it were.
Jayk was fairly much the same, but Xyn was not.
He was also an e-XY.
Jayk slowly pulled the blanket back, letting it fall, his long-fingered hand
moving to touch the well-healed wound under Xyn’s penis. It twitched, swelled
a bit, and Jayk looked up to smile at him. His fangs flashed at him, and Xyn
forced a smile. He sniffled, and then suddenly pulled Jayk into a long-awaited
embrace. Once again, they became Xyn/Jayk as Xyn merged their Minds as their
bodies pressed together. It was warm and comforting, and the part of him that
was Xyn desperately needed that comfort.
_No tears?
Just can’t cry anymore.
Wish I’d known him better.
I knew him. We knew him.
He watched.
We know.
He pushed too hard.
He’s gone.
We know.
He did it for us. ALL of us._
‘No greater love hath any man than this …
… That he lay down his life for another.’
Read that to him one night.
He loved bedtime stories.
He was sick for a long time. Hated being in bed.
Alone.
He liked the big bed.
Where he wasn’t alone.
Our bed.
He kept me from going mad.
I know.
We know.
They pulled back just a bit, still one Mind staring back and forth into two
sets of eyes. For the moment, it was enough to just hold one another and be
lost in each other’s Minds. Xyn found that he longed for the pleasures that
Jayk had taught him, but also realized that he hadn’t thought about those
pleasures for a long time. Jayk smiled and nodded. “It’s like that for us. You
know about it, you like it when it happens, but you don’t NEED it all the
time. You think you can still … uh?” Jayk’s face flushed and he grinned a
silly grin, “You know…?”
Xyn smiled back at him. “I think I can!”
And with that, they separated just a bit.
“I want to go home,” Jayk said aloud.
“So do I,” Xyn replied. “I just want to go home and go to bed and stay there!”
“I want to go back to my room and stay there for a LONG time!” Jayk added.
“I kept it warm for you.”
Jayk nodded. “I know you moved into it, with Tym.”
Xyn nodded, almost shyly. “He needed someone…” he began to explain, but Jayk
shook his head, rustling his braids. The sound sent a shiver down Xyn’s spine.
“I understand. It looked like I was gone for good and…”
“No, Jayk, I didn’t …”
Jayk looked puzzled.
“I shared your bed – our bed – with him, but I didn’t …”
“Never?”
Xyn shook his head. “It wasn’t right. He was too little. And besides, like you
said, I didn’t think about it much since after I got …”
But Jayk raised a finger to Xyn’s lips, touching them to signal him that he’d
said enough as the craft sped back towards the Ruins. Towards home.
They followed the Hunter’s craft down to refuel at the same place where he’d
stopped on the way to the rendezvous. No one had secured the fuel depot, and
it looked as if no one cared. The small town nearby was quiet, and several of
the buildings showed signs of looting and fire damage. Everyone was either in
hiding – or gone. Only the Hunter and Abrams disembarked, refueling the craft
quickly. As he refueled the Outcasts’ craft, he sent a thought to Xyn.
_I saw pink-purple blossoms falling from a big tree,_ the Hunter told him,
_Gods, Xyn, I’m so sorry!_
_Thank you,_ Xyn sent back, and the Hunter could feel his loss. Even with
Jayk at his side once again, Xyn was unhappy and overrun with grief. The
Hunter shook his head as he climbed back into his craft and they took to the
skies again.
“Will we ever be happy?” he muttered, “Will it ever end?”
“Pardon?” Abrams asked.
“Tym didn’t make it,” The Hunter informed him.
Abrams said nothing. He turned his head to stare out the window and thought
about Xyn as the Hunter followed Chriss into high cruise and the cabin vacuum-
sealed with a great hiss. There was nothing on the Newsfeeds but a blank
screen, and the Networks were still offline.
The sight over New City Main was very different as they descended through the
clouds. They had not stopped to rest, and daylight was just beginning to fade.
As the crafts did their best to blend in with the colors of the surrounding
sky, they all looked down and gasped.
Below them was a nightmare.
Authority and Government craft circled the New City, and several more were
fending off an attack from appeared to be indistinct shapes at the perimeter
where the suburbs began. The shapes fired upon the Authority ships, and they
fired back. The impending sunset was marred by weapons fire and smoke, and a
good size part of the New City’s upper north end was burning. In the parts
that were as yet unscathed, they all noticed something odd.
Not one single light was on.
“Oh shit, he finally pulled it off!” Dan breathed, leaning over to stare out
the window at the destruction all around them.
“Who did what?” the Hunter demanded. “Fill me in, Dan. This is NOT a good time
for secrets.”
“Duncan-2, the main processor of Mom’s computer system Kel built. He was going
to try and crash the Continental Power Grids right before the attack.”
“Attack?” Abrams barked, “Attack? As in who’s attacking whom?”
Dan shrugged. “Us against them. WE knew it was coming. Didn’t you?”
“The Dealer mentioned it,” Abrams agreed, “But I thought there’d be more
time.”
“We always do,” The Hunter said sadly.
Abrams shook his head. “Without the Continental Power Grids, everything’s
down! No Facilities, no Maintenance Centers! No Networks, and no way to
coordinate anything!”
Then he thought for a moment as a wave of Government craft went after a mass
of indistinct shapes heading in for a fresh assault. The shapes began to
coalesce as they drew closer and closer to the City. Finally, as their own
craft began to head back up to avoid the fighting, the forms solidified into
assault craft much like Chriss was flying. Of those crafts, about a quarter of
them made it through the line of Authority and Government defense forces and
began dropping bombs on the New City. They flew at breakneck speeds, letting
go unbelievable amounts of destructive payload. Below them, buildings exploded
into clouds of dust and rubble and fell to take others out with them.
“Ironic how they seem to be using the Governments’ own weapon against them,”
Abrams mused. “The Dealer told me about a ‘Duncan-2’ that he knew. A little
one they were building to be a Leader; a Leader who allegedly died.”
Dan shook his head. “I don’t know about all that, but Kel brought Duncan to us
a while back, even before Xyn came.”
Abrams shook his head, and the Hunter grunted. “Be glad WE have Xyn and NOT
them!”
On Abrams’ lap, Edward IV had closed his eyes and was moaning softly. “Make it
stop,” he whined, and the Hunter instantly knew his pain. He cursed himself
for not paying attention and slipped his lagging Psi into the little one’s to
block the waves of pain and panic that were assailing him from the City below.
Edward closed his eyes and seemed to go to sleep.
“He doesn’t need to see that now.”
“None of us do,” Abrams countered.
Suddenly the communications system came to life. A small and metallic voice
was giving orders to the various craft, and it paused to address the two
incoming craft. “Prodigal son and Seeker, return at once! The Lady awaits.”
Then the channel closed.
“The Seeker would be you,” Dan said to the Hunter.
The Hunter grunted, opening a channel to Chriss’s craft.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” he demanded.
“I suspected it, yes,” the young Pyro Mutant replied.
“Great,” the Hunter replied sarcastically.
“Hey, it wasn’t MY idea!” Chriss retorted. “I figured it would happen, but NOW
isn’t really a good time for it!”
“I need to speak with Shar!”
“She’s busy,” Dan stated, “I can hear her. The ground forces are preparing to
cross the Flats in stolen land rovers.”
The Hunter swore again.
_**”This is all my fault,**_ Xyn suddenly told them all. **_I must put a stop
to this._**
Abrams gasped. “And just what do you plan on doing about it, Xyn?” he asked in
a panicked voice.
“I’m not sure,” Xyn’s voice replied over the channel, “But from what I have
gathered, and what that other Mind to the Far North told me, the Government
wants me. They made me. There are things I do not yet know, but I can FEEL
that it all revolves around me and a sense of Order. If it’s ME they want,
they I’ll go to them.”
“There’s no guarantee that they’d stop, Xyn!” Jayk’s anguished voice broke in.
“What makes you think they won’t just Exterminate you – AND us?”
“They won’t,” Abrams replied, and everyone fell silent as the cruised on over
the destruction below them as the Approveds and Unapproveds went to bloody
war.
_Tell me,_ Xyn whispered in Abrams’ Mind, and the former Facility Director
remembered that familiar touch. He sighed and nodded.
“You weren’t just left at my Facility, as you were lead to believe, Xyn,” he
began, “You were created. Specially created from a Bio-sample that had been
stored for Deca-Cycles. It was almost nonviable, but it worked. I’m sorry to
be the one to tell you this, Xyn, but somehow I think I should be THAT one.”
He paused.
Everyone waited as more forces from both sides engaged in battle below them as
they sped away from the New City Main and towards the Forests.
“Some men from the Government came to well-known Dealer with many connections.
One of his connections was me. The Dealer found an XX to impregnate with the
specially prepared Bio-sample. She became with child – YOU, Xyn. When you were
born, they killed her. I won’t hide the truth from you any longer. The Dealer
took care of you for a short time, then he was ordered to bring you to a
Facility to grow up,” Abrams continued, holding the sleeping Edward in his
lap.
“Once there, you joined the ranks of all the other little Inmates. You didn’t
get Parted out nor adopted, however. I wanted you, Xyn. I wanted to take you
with me, away from that place. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I had to
stay. No one else cared the way I did, I suppose. I thought I was making a
difference, but I was just a pawn. Had the fire not happened and you hadn’t
wandered off, you wouldn’t be here now. You’d have never seen the Ruins, nor
met Jayk. None of this would have happened.”
“The other Mind was very much upset with me telling it that I was an e-XY,”
Xyn said. “Why is that? What was its concern with me and my Descendents?” Xyn
asked, sitting on the floor of the craft and holding onto Jayk very tightly.
Abrams sighed. “The Dealer told me much, Xyn. I never knew, I swear. I wanted
you cloned, Xyn. If I couldn’t have YOU, I’d have something like YOU, at
least. But they denied it. I couldn’t figure out why until he told me a few
nights ago. You’re a clone, Xyn. A clone born of an XX, but your life began in
a test sample container. I suppose we should call you ‘Kadens-2 Psion’ instead
of ‘zin’, that little nickname I gave you so long ago. Hail, Kadens-2 and Heir
to the Unification,” Abrams finished.
There were amazed whistles and gasps, and Jayk stared at Xyn in wonder as the
New City far below and behind them burned and crumbled under the assault of
the Unapproveds and assorted Outcasts rising up from the Ruins like Death
Himself.
Xyn’s jaw dropped, and his eyes shifted from gray to blue to a swirling mix of
color that Jayk had never seen before. Very slowly, almost in awe, the ancient
Slow Mutant reached up and touched Xyn’s smooth cheek.
“Don’t worry, I still love you!” He exclaimed loudly, and Xyn jumped. He then
smiled, but it was not a smile of mirth. It was a wry grin of a Fate
unavoidable, accepted, as Xyn reached down to feel between his legs.
“Then I am the last,” he stated flatly. “One cannot clone a clone. I
understand now.”
He then began reaching out with his Psi. He located Shar, and busy as she was,
she acknowledged him. _You have succeeded!_
_Jayk is with me,_ Xyn informed her, _But one little one does not return to
us._
For an instant, Shar’s Psi sent panic, then sorrow. _He would never tell me,_
she replied, her Psi full of grief. _But this Other finally took him?_
His long Psionic battle, and a blaster shot to the head at close range, Xyn
told her with a lump rising in his throat as he looked over at the blanketed
form. _But there is so much more. I am not who I appear to be, Shar. I may not
be able to return to you._
He then began to open his Mind to her, feeding her Mind the information that
he had just learned about himself. In the instant that he was done, he felt
Shar’s amazement.
_And what will you do then, Kadens-2 and Unifier Reborn? The New War rages,
here in the East and in the West as well. We cannot stop it now, we have
committed. Were we to falter, the Approveds would overrun us. Our constant
attack with their stolen weapons and our Mutant Abilities is our only chance.
We must not let up, lest we be destroyed once and for all. I never wished
this, believe me. But they have left US no other choice._
Xyn cringed at the new form of address, finding that he did not like it much.
It carried a great deal of weight, and his shoulders slumped as Jayk held him.
_Were it only so simple,_ he sent to them both. _Would that I could simply
vanish into the Ruins and close the door with only Jayk and our books and our
runs through the old towers. But that is not to be,_ he admitted sadly,
watching the small figure of the Lady with the Torch and Book becoming larger
and larger just ahead of them.
Then he felt Shar’s Mind literally jump as she received news from the Psions
in the ships attacking the New City Main. “The battle turns,” her voice came
over the communications channel, “Duncan cannot hold off the efforts of repair
that the Approveds are making. They have restored power!”
From high above them, down through the very clouds, a thick beam of blazing
red light descended. It struck the Flats and threw a huge explosion of dirt
into the air.
“Comm-Tell is back up!” Shar cried. “The orbital defenses are rebooting!”
Chriss switched on a monitor on the craft’s console, as did the Hunter in his
own, and they saw the lights of the New City beginning to light up the
darkening sky behind them. Another small screen filled with images of ‘talking
heads’, reporting on the battle. The air above the City was filled with smoke
and the small lights of the fighting ships that dodged here and there and
fired upon one another. All of the Psions could feel the welter of emotions
coming from that battle, and Xyn stood up. His blanket fell to the floor, and
he stretched. Jayk gasped, staring at his carefully toned and maintained e-XY
form.
“I need a new suit of body armor,” Xyn snapped, “And a blaster. Chriss,” he
ordered in uncharacteristic heat, “Come in tight to the Lady of the Flats.
Adam, I need for you to flatten off the highest of the spikes on her great
crown. Can you do that?”
Adam’s eyes were wide, but he nodded and focused his Bomber abilities to a
fine edge. As Chriss swung the craft about with the Hunter’s veering down,
then away towards the Ruins, the young Bomber Mutant neatly flattened the top
spike of that crown smooth. A bit of smoking rubble fell away from it, and the
surface he revealed looked smooth and new.
“Give a guy a title and he goes nuts,” Chriss joked.
“Xyn, what are we doing?” Jayk asked, their Minds no longer joined.
But Xyn shook his head, dressing himself as Adam stripped off his own armor
and handed it to him piece by piece. “I am going alone,” he told Jayk in a
calm tone as the torso piece adapted itself to his body. “I have a plan.”
“I’m going with you!” Jayk informed him.
Xyn shook his bald head, putting on the helmet. His hand lingered on the
visor, then he pulled Jayk close and kissed him rather seriously on the mouth;
he deftly avoided the fangs as Jayk returned his kiss in surprise. Another
beam of red light shot down from the sky, igniting the Brushline.
“WILL you two stop that!?” Chriss called. “They’re targeting the Ruins! They
know if they can knock it out, and the Old City, that we’ll probably fall!
Time’s running out, Xyn! Whatever you’re gonna do, DO IT NOW!”
Xyn then pulled away from Jayk and opened his Mind to Chriss. The Pyro’s jaw
dropped, but he nodded dumbly. He then carefully made the craft hover very
closely over the Lady of the Flat’s crown that Adam had shaved off square. He
couldn’t get as close as he wanted, with the winds buffeting the small assault
craft. It was still a long drop as he hovered. A small escape hatch then
opened in the floor at Chriss’ command, and Xyn held up a gloved hand. His
other held the hilt of his blaster. “Pick out a book and keep the chair warm
for me,” he told Jayk.
He then stepped backward and fell through the hatch, landing on his feet as
his armor absorbed the shock.
Chriss carefully moved the craft away as a proximity alarm went off. Dead
astern, another small assault craft was closing upon them, its fuel all but
exhausted. It fired several times, and one of the blasts sheared away several
of the protective hull plating tiles near the engines. Xyn looked up, feeling
Adam’s Will building again as Chriss moved away slowly so that the exhaust
from their engines would not blow him off of his perch. He shook his head and
drew his blaster as Abrams’ hard-used craft came about to defend them. Fast as
they were, Xyn was fast. He aimed the blaster, focusing his Psi upon the pilot
and Adam as well. _Just the canopy,_ he sent to the young Bomber, who ripped
it off deftly. Xyn then opened fire, vaporizing the pilot. The craft veered
sharply up and back, then tumbled to explode on the Flats at the Lady’s feet.
High overhead, the atmosphere began to ionize with the bursts of radiant
energy of the Comm-Tell System’s weapons. Clouds began to gather, and the
winds picked up and stirred them. Lightning began to flash with rolling
thunders, and the Storm gathered strength as another bolt struck the
Brushline, very close to the edges of the Ruins. Jayk screamed as Chriss went
to maximum acceleration, but Kefe knocked him down and sedated him as they
made for safety with Abrams’ craft right behind them.
V
The Alpha and the Omega
He watched them go.
Standing alone atop the crown of the Lady of the Flats, Xyn watched the
gathering Storm overhead; unsure of what to do, he stared at the huge moon
that had risen. Another bolt of energy rained down from the Comm-Tell
satellite, staining the moon red as he stared while the wind whistled around
him. He gasped in surprise as the bolt of energy tore up another huge chunk of
earth, and he watched as the moon slowly returned to its normal coloration.
For some reason, it seemed angry, almost raging, and he wasn’t sure that he
didn’t feel the same way. He come so far, sacrificed so much, and as he stood
atop that ancient Lady’s neatly beveled crown, he wondered whether or not if
in the end, any of it would really matter.
He’d never felt so alone in all of his short life.
He turned after a bit to watch a Storm of another kind back to the East. He
could feel the Minds of the battling Approveds and Outcasts. He could feel the
Minds of the Authority and Government Troops. And he could feel the Minds,
filled with fright, of the innocent Civilians in the New City as the
Unapproveds did their best to lay it waste as the Approveds fought to get
their defenses back online.
_They don’t understand,_ he thought, almost wanting to cry but finding that
he could not. _They didn’t want this to happen. They didn’t know this could
happen. All they did was to follow the status quo, believing it to be right.
The Approveds must not be held accountable for the crimes of the Government
under Kadens’ Descendents. Surely a few of them, but not the little ones or
their parents.
Did we learn nothing from the BioGenic Wars? Was not the near-Extermination of
Mankind not enough of an object lesson? Must it be repeated? Why?_
And what of the Unapproveds, the Outcasts of Kadens’ Society? Is it too much
to ask for equal treatment? How are they so different, in that they aren’t
allowed all the luxuries or the lifespan? Why are they treated so differently,
and why are the Approveds so surprised to learn of it? How could they not
expect a Revolt?
Xyn shook his head, his helmet rubbing at his bald scalp. He made sure his
visor was down, and then tried something that he’d never really done before.
He began to feel vast and without form again as he let his Psi loose. Sweat
began to drip inside of his body armor, which held the wind at bay. He let it
range over the Flats, his Mind’s eye seeing the Ruins and the Old City, and
the New City as well. He saw the fighting, felt the panic, and he took it all
in. He assimilated it, and he drew strength from it. Very slowly, as the
lightning danced from cloud to cloud above him and the ships fired upon one
another and bombs fell upon the Innocents, Xyn Psion slipped into every single
Mind that he encountered.
He felt what they felt, and he reassured him. He called upon that gift that
the other Mind had told him that he had. He remembered the battle over Tym,
and he recalled the love that had come – unbidden - the first time that he’d
seen him. He let that love flow out of him at that moment, once he felt that
he’d insinuated himself into enough Minds for it to work.
_You seem to have this strange ability to love, and to be loved,_ someone had
told him before.
He felt the battle slow a bit, and he felt confusion. _What is this?_ the
millions of Minds seemed to wonder at once. _Who are you?_
Then he thought of the grief he’d felt when he’d laid Tym to rest at the roots
of the great tree in their own private wild place near the waters. He sent
this image to them all, waited for a moment to catch his breath, and then
projected his grief and suffering as he’d turned to go. He opened his eyes and
looked down at his empty hands.
He saw a Book there – a supple leather-bound Volume with gold letters on the
cover.
Lightning struck somewhere very near the Lady, and he fell to his knees. In
his Mind, however, he held tightly to that Book and stared at it. He let what
he felt flow into the Minds that he had reached, continuing to search for
more. He began to tremble, his Psi threatening to overload and shut down, when
he heard a scraping sound. His eyes began to close just then, in exhaustion.
There were too many of them. Again, the sound – but he didn’t care. If the
Lady was hit or fell over, what did it matter?
It was simply too much for him, and he didn’t know what to do with them all
now that he had them. His grip upon them was tenuous at best, and he was so
tired. His back hurt, the burns from the blaster wound that torn open his body
armor beginning to sting again as the ointment that Jayk and Kefe applied to
it began to wear off. He sank to his knees.
_I’ve failed,_ he thought sadly to himself, desperately wanting to just lie
down. _I’ve failed and Humanity will destroy itself over these sins of the
past._
Suddenly there were hands – large hands – lifting him up. Through the confused
welter of the emotions of millions of other Minds, Xyn opened his eyes to see
a helmet with visor down staring back at him. He reached for his blaster and
gasped, losing his link to tens of thousands of Others. And then he heard a
familiar voice through the cacophony of confusion that he’d created, briefly
lulling the battle.
_No, Xyn. You can’t give up. Not now._
The visor of the one who held him slid open, and Xyn stared into the face of
The Hunter.
_I told them I’d catch you!_ He exulted, his smile broad and his Psi blazing
as he hoisted a rapidly tiring Xyn up onto his armored shoulders. He bounced
him a few times, much like a proud Father would his own little one. Xyn’s
helmet rattled a bit, and he laughed as the Hunter’s hand firmly held his. His
Psi slipped into Xyn’s, and the young Mutant felt himself restored.
“How did YOU get here?” Xyn cried, his head beginning to spin as he looked
down.
“Don’t DO that!” The Hunter advised. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s
working, Xyn! Just think about Tym. Think about Jayk. Think about what that
other Mind told you – WHY it wanted you! Use what they gave you. Use that
inborn ability of yours. Don’t think about stopping them, Xyn, that’s the key!
Just concentrate on this – why did you ‘adopt’ Tym? Why did you go after Jayk?
Why did the others go with you?”
“And above all else – Why did Tym lay down his life for all of us?”
And once again, even though he’d thought he’d run out of tears, Xyn Psion, who
would later come to be called ‘Kadens-2, The New Unifier’, began to cry. Not
only his eyes wept, but also his Psi wept as well as he stared down at the
precious Book he held in his shaking hands. His Mind was full of the horrors
going on below them, in the air above them, and the panic that everyone
involved felt. They were not, however, tears of sadness and personal grief;
they were tears of sympathy and of hope.
It didn’t matter that only he could see the Book. It didn’t matter because
every Mind that he touched COULD see it as his Psi swelled and simply overran
them. And they could feel it. Very gently, he opened that Book and turned to
the first page.
Rain began to fall as his Mind began to read to them all. The battling crafts
above the New City stopped and simply hovered. Out on the Storm-raked Flats,
the converging ground forces all stopped and parked. As it had in that wild
place where he’d gone with Jayk and later with Tym, Time itself lost all
meaning. Xyn himself lost all meaning as well as his Mind read from the Book.
And through it all, he thought of how much he loved his friends and everything
that they’d done for this little stranger who’d come straggling into the
Forest one night so long ago.
When he’d finished, Xyn closed the Book and stared at it. His Psi felt a
massive wave of relief passing over them all. There was confusion, regret, but
most of all – there was trust. No weapons were firing, no bombs were falling,
and the ground forces had never even met.
The thunder rumbled off into the distance, and the Storm began to break up. No
more beams of angry red light fired down from the sky, and only the smoke
rising up from the New City Main could be seen in the dim light of the last
flickers of lightning. The Hunter lowered Xyn, who raised his visor and smiled
weakly.
“I think you did it,” he said softly, pulling him close.
“What are YOU doing here?” Xyn asked, his voice hardly a whisper as he stared
into the Hunter’s strange face.
“You were created for a reason, Kadens-2. And I was created to protect you.
Funny, isn’t it? When Abrams announced your true Identity, something clicked
over in my head. I think it must have been implanted in my Upgraded Approved
chips to trigger at a set time. I couldn’t leave you here alone to face this.
Face it, son, you’re stuck with me.”
Xyn thought for a moment, his Mind all but exhausted. It didn’t make much
sense, but it was a bit late in the game to question him.
“Please, don’t call me that,” he groaned, as his head slumped down to rest
upon the Hunter’s shoulder and he fell asleep in his arms.
His soft boots made almost no sound on the old tiled floor as he made his way
down the long underground corridor. There was only one thing on his mind, now
that he’d returned from his trip and rested. After the short War that he’d
stopped, he’d slept for weeks in the Infirmary; he’d awakened only now and
then to find someone hovering over his bed with a worried look on his or her
face. Many times, it had been the face of the man who’d raised him. It seemed
that he was always there, had always been there, and always would be.
Oftentimes he wondered if he were dreaming, thinking that he could hear him
reading stories and holding is hand.
He smiled as he thought of them all and everything they’d done together. He
wondered at what he’d done, at what he was, and even WHY he’d done it.
Shar had reunited with her son, Dan. Kefe the Nightstalker had promised not to
expose him to any more bad habits, after their ghastly account of the raid on
Wilson’s house. Adam and Chriss had taken ‘R’ in, and Rick Abrams had – after
a great deal of Maintenance and Repairs, adapted to life in the Ruins. It had
been a close call at first, but the Adult had pulled through the various
Leftovers and Remnants that had attacked him upon his arrival. He’d taken up
residence just down the hall from Xyn’s room, and he spent a great deal of
time in deep philosophical discussion with Shar and Duncan-2. Dan and Edward
IV became the best of friends, and much to Abram’s and Shar’s dismay, they
took to hanging out with Kefe at night as he patrolled the rooftops.
And then there was the Hunter, who almost never left his side.
He paused for a moment as he thought of the little one who hadn’t come back,
and his step was a bit slower when he finally continued. He’d tried so hard
not to think about it. They’d buried him in the Forest once the opposing
forces had all gone home, under a great tree near a blue berry bush. He
remembered it, as he would for the rest of life. They’d shared so much, he and
that strange little Mutant that they’d never put a proper title to. There had
been musings for thousands of Cycles, he’d read, about the Soul of a person.
That somehow, even though the carnal body was in death, the Soul lived on in
some better place. Yet as hard as he’d tried, scanning the Forests and beyond
that day, he’d not been able to find it. He’d been to a better Place himself,
with him, and that had been where he’d died.
He was almost sick with guilt as he walked on down the corridor.
His Mind was a carefully guarded place now, and he thought to himself alone,
_I did it. I had to do it. I was created to do it. Maybe so that no other
little ones will ever have to grow up like he did._ But he sighed, trying to
convince himself that he was right. He shook his head and rubbed at the fuzz
there, making a mental note to find some more gel and shaking his leg now and
then as he walked. He still wasn’t used to how he felt when he walked, but at
least he wasn’t wearing armor.
In the New City Main, and in all of the others, the fires had been put out and
the Authority reorganized. The Facilities had all been shut down, and the
little Inmates sent to Maintenance Centers for Upgrading and Restorations –
and later Adoptions. In the Old Cities, the same was happening for the masses
of Unapproveds. Very suddenly, there was work to be done and not enough
workers to do it all. There were Resources to be found, redistributed, and a
massive breakdown of Arms for Recycling. There was also a great deal of
rebuilding to do.
None of this mattered to the one who walked down the corridor at that very
moment, however. It could all wait. There were others to oversee the efforts;
others that knew that the instigator of these changes could check in upon them
from more than half a World away, if need be, to make sure that things were
being done to his liking. He smiled at that thought. "They made me, now they
have to put up with me," he mumbled.
Certainly, he had NO intentions of turning Adam or his little protégé loose
upon anyone who stepped out of line; but it was a good threat, and sadly, had
been demonstrated for a select few in the Government who could not accept the
fact that there was a new Unifier in the World. When the Governor of Far North
had been blasted into thousands of tiny chunks of smoking meat, it had gotten
a LOT of attention. He shook his bald head and smiled again.
‘Rick’, as he had decided to call ‘R’ in namesake of his friend Abrams, had
been a bit overzealous in his defense of Xyn. He had been reluctant, he’d
admitted, remembering the ordeal with the dead tree at the abandoned church on
the way to Far South. However, when the Governor of Far North had threatened
to launch a full scale attack upon “the ridiculous, sick joke of a new seat of
power” – as he’d called the Ruins, ‘Rick’ had simply had a vision of his new
home going up in a huge fireball and struck him down.
Kadens-2, as everyone preferred to call Xyn now, had scolded him accordingly,
sending someone to find him a mop and bucket to clean up his mess. Of course,
the live telecast of the revelation of his true Identity and his installment
at the head of the Government had been watched all around the World, and when
little ‘R’ had let go in true Bomber Mutant form, almost everyone on the
Networks had seen it live. They also had seen the armored and scowling form of
the Hunter hovering protectively over their new Leader.
_Perhaps not the best way to introduce myself,_ Xyn mused, stopping outside
the door of his destination. He reached for the ancient brass knob and turned
it slowly, his Mind entering the room just a bit before he did.
And he was there, waiting.
He saw the brick walls and the bright, warm light from the overhead
chandeliers. He gazed upon the rows and rows of old books, and sniffed the
slightly musty smell of the antique rug. He closed the door behind him,
locking it, and kicked off his short boots to walk barefoot across that old
rug. He stopped to strip off his clothes in front of the very large mirror,
and stared for a moment at the young one who stared back at him with
glittering blue and gray eyes. He stretched himself again, his hand lingering
at the place where some of his XY-Parts were missing.
His head was bald and his skin not too white. His body was lithe and almost
muscular, and he stretched his long arms and sighed. He turned to face the big
bed, looking at the worn blankets and many pillows longingly. His eyes then
wandered to the old, overstuffed chair that shed a bit of its fillings now and
then on the floor, following the sound of a crinkle of very old paper.
It was the sound of a page turning in an old book.
That sound made him think of something, and he looked down at his empty spread
hands. He saw a beautiful leather book there, and crossed the room to move his
empty hands up to the rows and rows of books and place it at the end of the
shortest. He smiled.
“I’ll never forget,” he whispered.
“Having a Psionic moment?”
He nodded.
“It’s going to hurt for a long time. Trust me.”
He nodded again.
“You’re late, you know.”
“I just got back from Far North, and I’m tired.”
“Not too tired, I hope! I had plans.”
Xyn finally smiled as Jayk lowered his own book. Jayk smiled back at him, his
sharp fangs flashing in the bright light and his black eyes glittering. He
glanced at the bed, one of his raked back eyebrows raised. Xyn held out his
hand, and Jayk stood up. He shook his head, and his long, black braids
rustled.
“First you stop a War. Then you sleep for weeks. Then you run off with the
Hunter to get ‘R’ all patched up and take over the World! You were supposed to
be back three days ago, you know!” Jayk reminded him.
“It’s not MY fault that we had to stop in Mid North to find a cybernetic eye
for him,” Xyn countered, smiling broadly. “Besides, we also got the chance to
put in an order for some XY-Parts replacement for him too. AND Adam.”
“He’s only 8 Cycles old!” Jayk exclaimed. “It could have waited! Well, maybe
Adam couldn’t wait. How’s he doing?”
“The Replacement went fine. He should be functional within a month.”
“I still think it could have waited.”
“The Hunter put in a Request too. We’re looking.”
“What about the hormone issue and abilities, headaches and stuff? Won’t that
mess them up?”
“We’ll find a balance, I’m sure. Mr. Rick has some contacts in Maintenance,
you know.”
“Hide me, then!” Jayk muttered.
But Xyn knew that he was joking. At least he hoped that he was. He touched the
scar under his own penis and smiled back at Jayk, taking in the perfection of
his full e-XY shape. “Want me to book one for US too?” he asked innocently.
Jayk looked Xyn up and down, and embraced him. He took his lips with his own,
kissing him as if he were starved for affection. “That all depends on how well
we do, you know,” he whispered in his ear, brushing his gleaming fangs over
Xyn’s small, round ear. “As I recall, we have some advantages in that area
that not too many others do.”
Xyn smiled at him, looking at the big bed again. It had been a very long time
since he’d shared that bed with Jayk, and his Mind was suddenly full of the
memory of the Forest, sun-scorched Flats and taste of blue berries and purple
fruits. He ran his hands over Jayk’s flat stomach, his fingers brushing at the
place where Jayk’s XY-Parts had been removed so many uncounted Deca-Cycles
before. He shivered, and he slowly grew erect.
Jayk laughed, and Xyn flushed as he touched him there. “I wouldn’t fix it if
it isn’t broken.”
The problems of the entire World fell away in that touch as they rejoined
after so long of a separation.
_I love you,_ that one Mind said to Itself as the two bodies that were
Xyn/Jayk laid down upon the bed in a lovers’ embrace that had, and no doubt
would again, shake the very World.
** _ _THE END__**
* * * |
Carry Castration Queen Part I | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | man goes to night club, dance club and awakens in a strange place. soon to learn his fate | James awakens in a dimly lit room. He feels uncomfortable and
realizes quickly that he is suspended in the air. His arms are tied
to a beam hanging form the ceiling. Both wrists are cuffed with
leather restraints about 3 inches wide. He soon realizes his feet are
also cuffed with like devisees and are spread apart with some type
of bar connecting them and keeping them apart. He is groggy and
remembers that he was last at a night club with strippers and the
last he can remember is a beautiful woman bringing him a drink. She
was very beautiful about 5’03” 100 pounds with blond hair and blue
eyes. Her measurements were about 38d, 26, 36 her hair came down
about waist level.
The longer he is awake the more he realizes about his
surroundings. He begins to make out objects on the walls, strange
objects that he has no idea what they are used for but soon he,
unknowingly will find out. Just then he heres a door open, he can
make out the shape of a female moving towards him but can not tell
who it is because of the light from the doorway. Then the females
close the door and adjust the lights in the room. Now he can make out
the female. It’s the woman who brought him his last drink. She walks
towards James and says My name is Carry. You now belong to me and I
will do with you as I please. Now to let you know why you are here.
You see long ago when I was in High school I was raped by a man who
looked much like you. I know you’re not the man but I have sworn to
take my revenge on all men. Since you look so much like the man who
raped me you are going to suffer severely. I am going to castrate you
but only after you have begged me to do so.
As James’s eyes adjusted to the light he realized the Carry
was naked from the waste up. She had on a black garter belt and
stockings form the waste down. With this James’s cock began to rise.
Carry did not miss this and said I see it is time to begin your
treatment. Even with the information I have given you You still
manage to get your cock stiff in my presence. With that Carry went
over to the wall and brought back a ball gag. She places the gag on
James and told him. With what is to come you will need this to keep
you quite. With the gag in place she went back to the wall and
brought back a riding crop which she quickly brought down on the tip
of James’s cock. James felt sever pain like the tip of his cock was
on fire. Carry watched to see what James’s reaction would be. After a
few minutes when the pain had gone away some what she walked be hind
James. James could no longer see her but could feel her presents
behind him. This scared James as he had no idea what was to come
next. The he felt a hand grab his balls. It felt good and the hand
massaged his balls and stretched them and kneed them like cookie doe.
James was getting in to this. Carry was aware and wanted James to
feel the pleasure and kept pulling and massaging James’s balls. James
was relaxing and starting to make noises through the ball gag letting
Carry know he was enjoying the treatment. James’s cock had grown and
was now back a full erection. Carry knew it was time to react and the
grabbed tight onto James’s balls squeezing tighter and tighter. James
upon feeling this was rudely awakes and felt as if Carry was about to
crush his balls in her grip. She continued to tighten her grip and
sweat soon broke out on James forehead. In his mind he knew she was
going to completely crush his balls. Then he her Carry say. You liked
this before what’s wrong big boy cant take a little squeeze. Well
don’t worry IM not going to crush them now just make you suffer. IM
going to wait for you to beg me to remove these balls. You will you
know to get ride of the pain IM going to cause you will beg me to
take them you wait and see.
With this she released James’s balls to his relief. But soon
she returned with an object that she attached to his balls. If fit
snuggly around the ball sack and had chains hanging form it. She then
started adding weights to it. As the weights increased so did the
pain in James’s ball. He soon realized the pain was becoming more and
more intense. Then Carry said you don’t think IM going to finish you
today do you. No No it will be weeks before I even give you the
chance to beg me to remove your nasty balls. For now IM going to come
back every few hours and add weight to this ball stretcher and make
you suffer. Now as for tomorrow IM going to have a surprise for you.
Not that you will like it much but I promise you I will love every
minute of it. That’s all for today James except for the new weights
that is. This is how you will realize our session is finished for the
day each day. Oh are you looking forward to the time I let you beg me
to cut off your balls. Think about it. I’ll be back soon honey you
just hand there for me ok. |
The Lycian Prince 59 | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Anthonius loses friends. | ` Chapter 59 – Retributions `
{for Tom}
(September 291 A.D. – 6 months until Anthonius’ nullification [?])
After Lysus had finally calmed down after discovering his subjects’
disloyalty, he went to pay his respects to the commander of the Roman
garrison, now fully appreciating how much his throne depended upon its
presence. The new King was as nauseatingly obsequious with the Roman officer
as he had been with the Roman Emperor, especially when offering his soldiers
the opportunity to acquire a large amount of money for only doing what comes
naturally. The commander was only too happy to accept, on behalf of his men,
the chance to earn a substantial bonus, as long as they did so in off-duty
hours. The first large eager contingent, led by a centurion, was arriving as
Anthonius was being reluctantly escorted by his friends towards the door of
the public latrine. Most of the soldiers had brought dogs, their own or
borrowed, in the hope of doubling their rewards.
The six 14 years old boys, armed only with knives, were no match for the
professional, heavily armed, soldiers and they quickly found themselves under
arrest and being dragged to the walled citadel that formed the garrison’s
headquarters. The two Lycian guards were dismissed, to be replaced by twenty
Romans surrounding the public facility, and the servants were ordered to
resume their work whilst Anthonius was returned to the urinal. The centurion
and his men were determined not to allow the diversion of a failed rescue
attempt deflect them from securing their welcome bonuses. The former Prince
was to be anointed with military and canine urine remorselessly overnight and
throughout most of the next day as the Roman garrison enriched itself with
much Lycian gold. The boy’s half-brother was delighted to be told that two
fresh chests had to be collected from the treasury in order to keep up with
demand.
Anthonius did not only suffer urine falling on top of him as some soldiers,
aroused by the sight before them, also masturbated. The boy’s acute shame was
exacerbated when he came once himself. One Roman had deliberately directed his
piss at the lad’s engorged cockhead, producing much laughter from the soldier
when he saw an arc of semen gush out in response.
Meanwhile, the six young erstwhile rescuers were to be questioned about their
actions. Long unused chambers deep in the bowels of the citadel were
reactivated for the purpose. Much dust and many cobwebs had to be brushed
away, and several large families of rats dispersed, before the boys were
placed in chains in individual cells. The central torture chamber took longer
to return to full working order, with a number of military craftsmen needed to
restore the various equipment to functionality. The ancient rack, unused for
almost a century, had to be almost completely rebuilt by carpenters. However,
with typical Roman army efficiency, full interrogation facilities were ready
by the time that the urine-drenched Anthonius joined his friends in the
dungeons at dusk on the following day.
The soldier charged with eliciting true confessions from the pretty 14 years
olds was expertly practised in the art, having seen similar service in several
of the Empire’s trouble spots. The first terrified boy, identified correctly
as the likely ringleader, was hauled into the torture chamber, and stripped.
His anus was checked, as the torturer did not want the death of a virgin on
his conscience for it displeased the gods. The man had no intention of killing
the lad just yet but accidents did happen and the youngster would have to be
raped if he was discovered to be virginal. However, only one of the six had
not yet consummated his pedagogic relationship with his older suitor as his
true beauty had blossomed late and he was still deciding whom to choose from
the many candidates.
Having been found to have anally accommodated a man, the ringleader was bound
firmly to the restored rack. Several turns of the wheel that activated the
device soon had the boy’s naked body fully stretched. The torturer was pleased
to see that his crying victim sported the usual full erection despite his
obvious agony.
The soldier began his questions, centring round what precisely the plotters
were hoping to achieve and who else was involved. When he was unhappy with the
answers, the wheel would be turned fractionally, usually securing a loud
scream, heard throughout the dungeon complex, before a hesitant verbal
response. The man himself eventually heard cracks as first shoulders and then
ankles were dislocated.
The boy was now literally at breaking point, for another turn of the wheel
would produce the sound of skin tearing. However, the questions still came for
the torturer was not yet entirely satisfied as to the fulsomeness of the
information gained. Another turn of the wheel opened large bloody wounds in
the lad’s ripping armpits and saw a fountain of sperm spurt from his engorged
throbbing penis. The amused soldier rubbed the white fluid into the moaning 14
years old’s chest, belly, scrotum and upper legs, where the creamy substance
had come to rest. His young victim managed one final answer before another
turn of the wheel made him faint. The tormentor did not bother reawakening the
tormented as he was finally happy that he knew all that he wanted. It was time
to confirm this fact by attaching Anthonius’ five friends to the device.
Anthonius, soaked body hurting not only with shame but also with intense pain
as the stiffness caused by his many hours chained in a demeaning posture was
to take many more to diminish, heard his friends’ agonised shrieks throughout
the night. The former Prince, hands chained behind his back, shouted through
the bars of his filthy cell, begging for mercy for the boys, but his desperate
entreaties went unheeded and he had to give up when his voice finally went,
reducing his utterances to barely audible croaks. The smelly piss and semen
covering his body had dried, forming scum marks over much of the skin, by the
time dawn arrived and the awful screams finally came to an end.
Anthonius finally slept for the first time in two days when quiet descended,
his only consolation for recent events being the fact that he had heard
yelling from only five of his friends. He hoped that the sixth was to be
spared being put to the question. He was not to know that that was not his
half-brother’s intention when he had the beautiful 14 years old removed to the
palace. The new King, who had come to the citadel to watch the delightful
torture of his sibling’s friends, had kindly decided to give personal
attention to depriving the one virgin amongst the sextet of his innocence.
Prodicus was given the task of preparing the appalled Vinius for his royal
master’s bed by bathing the younger boy and greasing his virgin anus. The
tearful 14 years old was shivering in fright when placed on top of the royal
bed to await Lysus’ arrival, despite the best efforts of the royal page to
calm him. The virgin did not have to wait too long for the eager King or for
the man’s cock to invade his previously pure rectum. Tears and squeals flooded
the bedchamber as the lad was readied to enjoy the pleasures of the torture
chamber.
Lysus was thoroughly entertained by Vinius’ deflowerment and was looking
forward to similar amusement when the boy was placed later on the rack.
However, the King first needed some sleep before experiencing further delights
and the debauched hurting lad, the lustrous curves of his gorgeous bottom
besmirched by blood and semen, found himself trapped face-down under the
obnoxious fat sweaty odorous form of the snoring monarch, softening adult cock
still inside him.
Lysus woke several hours later. It was mid-morning and sun streamed through
the window of the bedchamber. The King was surprised to find that the no
longer virgin 14 years old was not still lying on the bed as he had not given
the brat permission to leave his company. The monarch’s surprise turned to
fury when he subsequently discovered that the boy seemed to have disappeared
into thin air. The Roman soldiers, now charged with guarding the personage,
assured him that they had not seen the lad leave the royal quarters, a careful
search of which by them and Prodicus finding no-one hiding.
Vinius’ disappearance was a mystery that Lysus was never to resolve. The
incensed King had to be content, one week later, with executing just five of
his half-brother’s friends, a spectacle that was to be the culmination of the
new monarch’s coronation in the temple of Jupiter, at which the Roman
commander and Ebana were the principal foreign guests. Three wooden crosses
were laid on the ground at the foot of the temple steps, with exceptionally
sharp stakes, about the height of a normal man, firmly embedded into the
ground on either side of the middle crucifix. Six blunt stakes were positioned
further into the plaza with another solitary one in front. The whole scenario
was heavily ringed by Roman soldiers.
Anthonius, still naked but body washed for the occasion by the youthful black
eunuch, was first to arrive. He was chained to the front solitary stake,
facing the others and the temple. His five injured nude friends followed,
dragged from the citadel as their dislocated limbs made them incapable of
walking. They were chained spreadeagled between the six blunt stakes, also
facing the temple.
Anthonius felt physically ill when he saw the state in which his wonderful
beautiful heroic friends were now presented, bodies displaying their wounds
and faces their agony. The bloody scabs under their arms particularly sickened
the former Prince. Roman soldiers, wearing only loincloths and holding vicious
whips, took up position behind each condemned boy. The torsos of the powerful
men rippled with muscles.
Various entreaties for mercy had been made to Lysus for the youngster’s lives,
not least from their important noble families, but they had fallen on deaf
ears. A determined attempt to rescue the boys from incarceration in the
citadel led by some fathers, older brothers and lovers had been bloodily
thwarted, causing the Roman governor to declare martial law. This capped
unrest amongst the wider populace for now. However, no citizenry felt
obligated to celebrate the coronation of their new King. When the crowned
monarch emerged at midday with his few guests onto the top of the temple
steps, it was to see the city’s main square empty apart from soldiers guarding
and waiting to attend to Anthonius and his friends. However, Lysus’
disappointment at the Lycians’ attitude was not going to stop him from
enjoying the spectacle of observing Anthonius watch his friends being put to
death in front of his young eyes.
Lysus signalled to the officer supervising operations at the bottom of the
temple steps and the Roman responded by issuing an order. Anthonius’ friends
soon felt the agony of the whip being laid with vigour across their rears.
Screams echoed round the plaza as the skin of the boys’ backs, bums and legs
gradually became a bloodied pulp. The victims had to be resuscitated from
faints several times whilst the flagellation proceeded.
The sobbing Anthonius constantly shouted useless pleas for pity for his
friends at seeing their plight, which only added to his half-brother’s
rapture. The former Prince’s begging intensified when the soldiers moved their
attentions to the boys’ fronts, including their genitalia. One of the lad’s
scrotums was split open and another’s cockhead was partially severed as the
evil sharp leather struck them.
The flogging took almost an hour to complete, the irreparable damage terrible
to behold to Anthonius.
However, even worse was to come as his half-dead friends were unbound and
dragged to where they were to die. Three were laid on the crosses, the
ringleader on the middle one. Several soldiers crowded round each victim to
order to secure them to the wood. The relevant wrist cartilage, through which
the large square headed nails had to be hammered in order to prevent the arms
from tearing away from the crossbeams when the crosses were raised, were
expertly located. Further awful shrieks indicated that mallets were being used
to drive the spikes through the tissue. The yells reached a crescendo when
larger metal spikes were hammered through the boys’ crossed ankles,
overwhelming the sound of many bones being crushed. Young human attachments
complete, the crosses were then raised, the vertical beams sinking into pre-
prepared relevantly-sized holes dug into the ground.
Meanwhile, the other two boys were each lifted off the ground by four soldiers
holding their sanguine striped legs. The lads’ sphincters were lowered onto
the tips of the spiked stakes and their legs pulled downwards, causing the
extremely sharp wood to make inroads into their anuses, which started to spurt
blood. Heavy weights were suspended from each foot to encourage the gradual
advance of the stakes into the lads’ insides.
Despite their suffering, all five boys now approached their lingering deaths
exhibiting hard-ons. Anthonius was now silent, mortified at the crucifixion
and impalement of his young friends, who had so loved him that they were
prepared to risk their lives in his rescue. His mortification was brought to a
peak when ladders were placed against each cross to enable soldiers, each
holding a knife, to climb the rungs. They cut open, without ceremony, the
crucified lads’ scrotums, exposing the contents before slicing the membrane
retaining the testicles so that they fell onto the hard soil below. All five
youngsters spurted semen as they were unmanned. The former Prince vomited when
he saw the first small bloody testis land. Ladders were not required to
castrate the impaled victims. No action was taken to stem any blood loss,
which would eventually stop when the blood congealed.
The sight of the concluding action and Anthonius’ reaction caused Lysus’ smile
to broaden before he eventually led the coronation party down the
righthandside steps and back to the palace for a celebratory banquet. The new
King relished the thought that this would be his last sight of his half-
brother, left to watch his friends die very slowly and agonisingly. The man
hoped that the delicious vision would be retained vividly in his memory for
the rest of his life. He was to be granted his wish but not for personally
desirable reasons.
A distraught crying Anthonius observed his friends’ breathing become shallower
and shallower over many hours as their ends crept nearer. The crucified
victims gradually suffocated as fluid accumulated in their lungs, whilst the
bodies of the impaled duo were slowly lowered further onto the wooden stakes
by the force of gravity, their anal wounds getting bigger, more terrible and
finally fatal.
It would be late afternoon by the time death came mercifully to the last of
the five boys. The tearful traumatised former Prince was then packed into a
wagon, escorted by Roman cavalry, to return with the youthful eunuch to
Patala, from where the Nubian galley would leave for Alexandria in Egypt on
the following afternoon’s tide. Meanwhile, Ebana was enjoying the new Lycian
King’s coronation feast. He would not leave Xanthus until the morning, after
sharing Prodicus’ sexual favours with his host overnight, but took the trouble
to send the eunuch on his way with a generous message for his ship’s crew. As
the Nubian King would not be requiring the white boy that night, they could
enjoy him in any way they wanted as long as he was not permanently damaged.
The black monarch liked to keep his servants happy.
Prodicus did not learn of what had happened at the foot of the temple of
Jupiter’s steps until after the event. He was duly horrified at what had
occurred and also deeply saddened at hearing that Anthonius had already been
despatched to Patala, denying him the chance to see his friend one final time.
It was whilst he sucked Lysus’ obnoxious cock in the royal bedchamber, after
agonisingly entertaining Ebana earlier in one of the palace’s guestrooms, that
the 16 years old decided on his own act of retribution.
The following night, the royal page was as usual lying naked on the royal bed
waiting for Lysus to enter the bedchamber after dinner. When the King finally
arrived at about midnight, the nude boy, displaying an alluring smile and
rigid erection, rose from the bed. He noticed that the monarch had brought
some toys to play with, a spiked dildo and a riding crop. The man was
obviously in a mood for sadistic sex that night. Prodicus’ penis extended to
the vertical and began to ooze precum at the realisation.
Lysus grinned wickedly as his catamite approached to collect the playthings
and aid his disrobing. He had little time to wonder why the boy was holding
his right hand out of sight behind his delicious bare body before he saw the
glint of metal and felt a blade enter his heart. The new King was dead before
he hit the floor, his consecrated reign having lasted just over a day.
(To be continued in chapter 60 – ‘Alexandria’)
* * * |
Heinrich, Stefan (Stephen) & Karl (Carl) Part 4 | WARNING, BI, TESTICLES | The year is 1939 and Heinrich is in for a few surprises; and falls even deeper under the sway of the SS General | ` As an absolutely dedicated follower of the SS General, Heinrich did not take
very long to start ingratiating himself with the man. Having demonstrated how
ruthless and brutal he could be, the SS General decided to see whether these
traits would carry through into other "dirty" tasks with which the SS was
dealing. Within a few months the SS General knew he had chained and tamed a
monster for nothing he told Heinrich to do was uncompleted. People
disappeared, others were blackmailed, women were raped and every now and then,
Heinrich performed personally for the SS General. `
There were several manfestations of these performances but the favourite of
both was when the SS General hosted small dinner parties for his intimate
friends.
Throughout these occasions, Heinrich served only the SS General whilst other
handsome young male members of the SS served the other guests, usually
predominately male but almost always there were some women present. Heinrich
and his serving colleagues were dressed very simply. Each was naked but for a
black bow tie and a small black leather g-string similar to the cod pieces
worn by male ballet dancers but with the startling lightning fashioned SS
blazoned on the front of the bulge of the male gentalia these pieces of attire
constrained. At the end of the meal Heinrich alone stood close by the SS
General's chair and when so ordered turned to face his master and unclipped
the black leather cod piece, letting it fall to the floor. The SS General then
reached out and fondled Heinrich's balls, saying to his guests at the same
time "This equipment might hang between the legs of this young man, but
believe you me I own it. Don't I Heinrich ?"
"Absolutely sir", was Heinrich's invariable reply, after which the SS General
invited his guests to similarly examine and fondle any parts of Heinrich's
body they chose. For his part, Heinrich adored preening in front of the guests
and was highly sexually aroused as hands glided over his relatively hairless
but beautifully formed body, hefted his scrotum and probed the cleft between
his beautifully rounded yet muscular buttocks.
The finale for the evening occured when another naked young man was brought
into the room and the SS General invited his guests to gather round a large
rug expecially placed well clear of the dining table to witness what was to
follow. Heinrich's task was to stalk this young man and wrestle him to the
floor on the rug - and as Heinrich was invariably stronger and larger than his
opponent this usually took but little time. The spectacle was then one of nude
male wrestling with the only apparent difference between the two combatants
being that Heinrich invariably had an erection by the time he had wrestled his
opponent to the floor; whereas the genitalia of the terrified young man who
was his opponent had usually by this time shrivelled in fear.
Following the SS General's instructions, Heinrich always put on a good mock
bout for the guests. For fifteen minutes or so he wrestled his opponent, got
him into seemingly hopeless positions but then let him escape. By this time
both combatants were covered with a sheen of perspiration and at a nod from
his boss, Heinrich moved in for the finale. Throwing his young opponent to the
floor once again, but this time on his stomach, Heinrich grabbed his arms and
locked them behind his opponent with his own. Then using his knees and legs he
forced those of his opponent apart. When his target was clear, he then
gradually lined up his fully erect penis with his adversaries' rectum and,
once placed at the entrance, with a mighty thrust penetrated him.
Invariably his opponent screamed with pain and outrage but try as he might, he
could not escape this brutal sodomy. As he was always by this time highly
sexually aroused, Heinrich took little time to reach his climax - but this was
not the end of the affair for his unfortunate opponent. The young man beneath
him was by then completely demoralised so it was an easy matter to flip him on
his back and pin him supine to the floor. Heinrich then positioned himself so
that whilst still holding his wrestling opponent in a position from which he
could not move, Heinrich was able to bring his mouth to the young man's
scrotum. Sucking this into his mouth, Heinrich looked up to the SS General and
at his signal, brought his teeth together and ground them as powerfully as he
was able. He knew he could not sever the young man's balls by simply one
savage bite; but he also knew that his teeth could do so much damage if ground
together that within a few minutes he would be able to rip the young man's
ball filled scrotum from his body with a twist of his jaw.
So it transpired and as his bloodied opponent writhed on the carpet on the
floor, Heinrich stood up, approached the SS General, knelt down in front of
him and opened his mouth so as to present his gory trophy to his boss. "Well
done Heinrich" was the invariable response and with that took two bloody
remnant of scrotum and its two contained testicles and placed them on a silver
salver on the sideboard.
But other events also impacted on Heinrich's life. In the Spring of 1939 he
returned to his father's Prussian landholdings to find that Ilse had gone and
that, for a time nobody would say anything to him about the matter. Eventually
he prised the story out of her brother Hans. When she realised she was
pregnant, Ilse did not know what to do; and when her puritanical father
inevitably found out about her situation, she refused to tell him who had
fathered the child she was carrying. She emphatically denied it was the eunuch
Claus as she dreaded the prospect of having to marry a creature without the
means to satisfy the lust she had experienced with Heinrich.
Thereafter Isle's father took matters into his own hands. Ilse was kept locked
in his home until baby Stefan was born. Then, as soon as she was fit to
travel, he took Ilse and the newborn with him in the dead of night so none of
the locals could know what was going on. Travelling first by train to the
coast of Holland and then by boat ferry to England, this small family group
then embarked in a steamer at Tilbury docks London and at the age of two
months, Stefan was on his way to Australia. There they disembarked at Adelaide
and travelled into the wine growing district nearby where some of Ilse's
father's people had settled decades before. Ilse was then promptly married to
a middle aged Lutheran pastor and baby Stefan put up for adoption.
His adoptive parents knew nothing of the baby's background - but by a quirk of
fate decided to name him Stephen.
We shall learn more about the adult Stephen in future.
End of Part 4
* * * |
Lost Penis In Accident (personal anecdote) | I am 23, 185 cm, black hair, slim, like travelling, reading newspaper,
listening music. Studying civil engineering. I have lost my penis at an
accident with my motorcycle 4 years ago. The accident happened in
summer. I weared a pair of short slags only, no safety dress, when I
made a short ride with my motorbike in our village. A car hit me and I
came below my bike. My lower body got contact with the chain and foot
rests. I can't remember these things, but police suggested this way.
Additional to the direct injury there occured an infection one day later
because of dirt.
That time I got seriously injured and survived only due to good medical
help in a nearby hospital. The penis could not be rescued however. The
shaft with all erectile tissue had to be amputated due to the infection
and strong damage. It has been removed completed. No erectile tissue is
left. The urethral opening was relocated between scrotum and anus. Only
a short piece of the urethra could be saved by the doctors due to strong
damage during accident. Also the bladder had been injured. The closing
muscle does no longer work well. So I have to go to bathroom often
times. All wounds have healed so far. The testicles are working as
hormone producers, so that I have not to take hormones externally. My
sexual drive hase decreased strongly however after the accident.
Erections are no longer possible. Soft massage of my balls etc. is a
wonderful experience for me. I am very shy now.
First time in hospital I had a catheder after the surgeries. But after
one week I had to lern to use my new pee hole. In the beginning it was
very painfull because of wounds. It was difficult to do the job without
too much spray. Nowadays I can handle it quite good. Due to the very
back location of the opening I have to remove my slags for urinating. I
have to sit down for this business of course. Only this way I can pee
without spray Nude. I can use the urinal toilet with special pose only.
Practically I use the sitting toilet where no one can watch me. Because
of strongly reduced capacity of my bladder I have to pee quite often
since the accident.
For me the accident was a big change of life. Before that I had been
never thinking about such a handicap.
There are so many problems physically and mental. I was 18 yrs old when
it happened. At that time I was living with a lovely girlfriend. First
time she gave me good support already in hospital and later at home. But
after 6 months she went away with another boy.
I had several injuries, also broken legs. But that is all okay now.
"Downstairs" some organs had been badly hurt. Testicles (contusion),
urethra (rupture, shortened), bladder (rupture) and prostate (removed)
got much damage. Errections are no longer possible, there is nothing
left to grow and get hard. Only in my dreams I can have it, and it
happens. Generally my sex drive has reduced much. I have no more
ejaculations. Only from time to time, mostly at night, some liquid is
coming out of my pee hole.
In former times I enjoyed sauna and nude swimming. But nowaday I am shy
and try to avoid to show my genitals to others. The time in hospital
when I got a lot of treatments after the injury was horrible. Many
nurses and female doctors saw me.
I am still a human beeing, even without cock. But education of boys from
childhood on, gives the a feeling of importance of having a (big) penis.
That's why it was a big shock to me. |
||
Stonehenge 3 | BI, TESTICLES, MINOR | Bladud comes across several sets of threesomes. | ` STONEHENGE `
By Pueros
Chapter 3 - Threesomes
(The Great Bog, Salisbury Plain, England, April 1850 B.C.)
Bladud’s resistance to the gentle manual attentions being paid to his upper
legs by both Boudda and Aethel was pitiful for two reasons. First, he did owe
a debt of gratitude to the twins for rescuing him not only from the ooze of
the great bog but also from his pursuers. The latter, after recapturing the
young escapee with the aid of their hunting dogs, would have returned him to
Stonehenge for undoubted awful punishment, prior to later emasculation into
the priesthood at the altar of the great temple. Second, the desires of his
loins, embarrassingly displayed earlier when he sported a fulsome erection in
front of the girl, not only remained unrequited but had been reactivated by
the pleasurable handling the 15 years olds were performing. It was therefore
no surprise when the 13 years old compliantly allowed his clean borrowed tunic
to be slipped off his delicious body for his renewed genital excitement to be
exhibited once more.
“Lay back, do nothing, just enjoy!” were Boudda’s persuasive instructions as
her hand, and those of her brother, now encouraged the boy to adopt the
required position on the clean fresh bedding her sibling had readied
previously. The discarded tunic of the twins’ guest, now on the floor of the
warm comfortable roundhouse, illuminated only by the flickering flames of the
central fire, was soon joined by those of the hosts. The naked 13 years old
now found himself flanked by a pair of nude 15 years old of both sexes, who
were running their hands all over his delectable young form.
Bladud noticed that Aethel’s smooth hairless cock, much bigger than his own
and crowned above with a small fair hirsute tuft, was also hard. This helped
him to overcome his inhibitions and instead just lay back to enjoy the twins’
careful fondling, which was becoming increasingly delightful, causing the 13
years old to begin moaning quietly in pleasure. Meanwhile, his own penis grew
to a throbbing size he had not previously known.
Lips eventually sought out those of Bladud, who had closed his sensuous eyes
in his reverie of sexual pleasure. Again, the boy did not resist the intrusion
and a long bout of passionate kissing took place, without the 13 years old
knowing whether the other slightly older mouth resting against his, or the
tongue exploring his oral cavity, was male or female. He simply did not care,
as the seemingly well practised exploration of his body by four hands
continued relentlessly, frequently paying particular attention to his smooth
genitalia.
The original lips were then withdrawn to be replaced by others and again
Bladud did not bother to open his eyes to see who his latest paramour was,
being simply too intent on enjoyment to be bothered with a quest for
knowledge. The manual handling continued remorselessly, frequently skilfully
bringing the boy to the brink of obvious orgasm before carefully letting his
passion subside a little.
Bladud had never experienced such delight previously and was therefore very
disappointed when the activity eventually game to a halt. The 13 years old
opened his eyes to find that Boudda’s lovely face was just above his own.
Boudda’s blue eyes looked down into Bladud’s brown, now glazed with lust. She
quietly announced, whilst gently running a hand across one of the boy’s rosy
cheeks, “Aethel would like his reward first. I’m afraid that it might hurt a
little at the start but, don’t worry, it’ll soon turn to enjoyment and,
afterwards, you can give me my reward, which will only provide you with
pleasure!” The 13 years old briefly wondered how the girl knew that the former
event would initially produce some pain but then quickly dismissed the
question from his mind when the answer dawned.
Although a virgin priestling, Bladud was not naďve about matters of the flesh
and fully appreciated the ways in which the twins wanted to be rewarded for
his salvation. The boy did not particularly want to be the subject of sodomy
but his current gratitude at his apparent successful escape from either death
or awful atonement and possibly fatal emasculation, along with his present
unsatisfied needs, caused him to turn over and splay his legs obediently
without further ado. As the 13 years old made this manoeuvre, he had to be
careful not to harm his erection, now oozing precum, by squashing it on the
bedding. He therefore gave some careful attention to repositioning his hard
penis, pointing it downwards, before completing his bodily movement.
Bladud’s unexpectedly rapid response to Boudda’s request made the girl at
first wonder whether the boy was accustomed to being buggered. However, as she
prised apart his bumcheeks in order to begin to grease his pink sphincter and
rectum carefully, with material from a nearby pot and in readiness for her
keen brother, the 15 years old was able to confirm the 13 years old’s
maintained purity in this particular part of his anatomy. She therefore
commanded her sibling, substantial cock at its fullest size in eager
anticipation of the delightful reward to come, “Go easy. He’s a virgin!”
The attentions of Boudda’s forefinger, cautiously inserted inside him to
prepare his rectum for the imminent large invader, caused the boy’s low moans
of delight to resume and the dribble of precum from his cock, clearly visible
on the bedding between his splayed legs, to become greater. The girl then
stroked the magnificently rotund orbs of Bladud’s buttocks briefly, causing
the 13 years old’s groaning to become more audible, before removing her hands
to allow her brother access to the now readied young guest. It did not take
long for the now desperate young male host to take up position, straddling the
inviting posterior curvature. However, Aethel’s subsequent enthusiastic
progress into the escaped priestling was tempered by a hard smack across his
own bottom. “Don’t forget, go easy,” his sister reminded, “he’s a virgin!”
Boudda knew that her beloved twin would want to try to keep Bladud’s hurt to a
minimum but she also knew, from experience, that sometimes his fervent passion
could overcome such good intent. She was determined not to permit this to
happen now and was pleased to observe that her brother had seemingly taken the
hint. He was lowering himself downwards very slowly and with great
deliberation, painful remembrance of this requirement evidenced by a red hand-
mark on his own very pleasant right buttock.
Bladud felt Aethel’s cockhead, damp with precum, gently pressing against his
sphincter, seeking entry. The 13 years old, keen to satisfy this particular
reward as quickly as possible, tried to help by pulling sideways at his
bumcheeks but his anal opening maintained its resistance to the would-be
intruder. The 15 years old, wary of Boudda’s instruction and not wanting
another smack, was struggling with his attempt at deflowerment without causing
too much distress, when suddenly his sister literally gave a hand to assist
progress.
Aethel felt Boudda’s fingers grasp his cockhead to point the desperate
projectile directly at the centre of Bladud’s sphincter, whilst suggesting
“Push now but with care!” The girl’s intervention worked by directing her
brother’s efforts more accurately and soon, after a low yelp from the
recipient, the 15 years old’s cock slowly slid inside the 13 years old.
Bladud quickly felt the whole of Aethel’s smooth and magnificent body resting
on top of him, with a large throbbing invader, which had induced much pain,
filling his rectum. However, the 15 years old did not begin his thrusting of
the deflowered 13 years old aperture straight away, as he was again being
reminded by Boudda “Go easy!” The female twin was relaying this suggestion
whilst now stroking the male twin’s lustrous posterior, just before making her
own intrusion, with two wiggling fingers, into his insides.
Boudda was still manually teasing her brother when Aethel eventually decided
he could wait no longer, as his twin would soon bring him to climax inside
Bladud without any effort on his own part. He therefore whispered into the 13
years old’s ear to ask “Are you ready?” Having secured an affirmative reply,
the 15 years old then carefully withdrew his erection towards the anal
entrance of the escapee priestling before gently reinserting the throbbing
member and repeating the action, thereafter gradually building up a
considerate momentum.
Boudda’s promise to Bladud that the initial pain from his deflowerment would
transform to enjoyment now materialised, as his rectum became more accustomed
to the size of the cock filling it and the tickling of his prostrate gathered
pace. The girl smiled when she again heard the 13 years old’s moans of
pleasure, and saw the look of anguish on his face transmute to one of delight,
as her careful supervision of her brother brought their young host his own
reward for sacrificing his anal virginity. Meanwhile, she maintained her own
presence inside her twin.
The mixture of penile and anal pleasure, induced by Bladud and Boudda
respectively, soon engendered Aethel’s own groaning as he was brought towards
climax. The boy did not want the immeasurably pleasant sensations flowing
through his superb young body to end but this desire was overruled by the
needs of his genitalia to explode their contents into the now willing young
recipient, almost delirious in his own sexual reverie. The 15 years old soon
found himself screaming “Yesssssssss!”, as his cock flooded the insides of the
13 years old with many spurts of creamy white fluid.
Aethel then collapsed on top of Bladud in satiated exhaustion, a position that
he was unable to occupy for long as Boudda again tapped his bottom, although
this time without causing anguish, and announced, politely with sisterly
friendliness, “You’ve had your fun and it’s now my turn. So please move!”
Aethel reluctantly complied as, after a little recovery time, he was sure that
he would be capable of enjoying himself with Bladud again. However, his
sister, whom he loved dearly in all senses, was right, as it was her turn to
experience the delights of their young guest’s body.
After Aethel had moved, Boudda now used a cloth to mop up the spilt cum and
grease in Bladud’s bumcrack, causing his still hard penis to add yet more
precum to a fairly substantial pool that had formed on the bedding just below
his cockhead. She then tapped the boy’s sublime bottom, as she had just done
to her brother, and declared “Now, young priestling, it’s time to do some work
in order to enjoy your first woman!”
Bladud had recovered sufficiently from the strange mix of pain and pleasure he
had just experienced during his deflowerment to appreciate the command and so
turned over. As he did so, Boudda lay on the bedding beside him and spayed her
legs. She then looked again at the boy’s beautiful face and into his lovely
brown eyes before enquiring with a smile “What are you waiting for?”
Bladud looked at Boudda’s wondrous shape next to him, at the magnificent sight
of her sublime slim form, the highlights of which were her still developing
but nevertheless impressively rotund breasts and her little patch of golden
pubic hair. The boy and his cock, hardening even more, needed no further
invitation and he soon found himself kneeling between the girl’s legs. The 13
years old, completely forgetting the discomfort in his rectum, now used his
right hand to direct his own throbbing erection towards a bodily orifice, this
time of a vaginal kind, whilst slowly lowering himself downwards. Meanwhile,
the observing Aethel’s own penis had risen again and so he started to rub it
whilst he watched his sister and his new young friend make love.
Bladud had often dreamed of laying with a female but, given his supposed
destiny to be an emasculated priest, alive or dead, in the great temple, never
believed that it would ever come true. The boy therefore conveyed a silent
prayer of thanks to the gods of his own people as his cockhead entered Boudda
and he began delectable copulation with the delicious girl.
The lips of Bladud and Boudda met again and soon tongues were exploring each
other’s mouths. The boy needed his left hand to sustain his weight as he
thrust in and out of the girl, with an erection pleasantly substantial for a
13 years old and certainly one that provided the recipient with considerable
enjoyment. Meanwhile, he used his right hand to explore the orbs of the girl’s
breasts whilst she reciprocated by fondling his lustrous bottom.
The whole sight was enentually too much for Aethel and his re-hardened re-
energised penis. The 15 years old remounted the 13 years old from behind, but
Bladud was too occupied in achieving his own sexual objective to complain or
even be bothered, especially as the additional sensation now only created
further rapture.
The threesome were eventually completely lost in their own worlds of ecstatic
pleasure, a situation that unfortunately did not linger for too long as
intense orgasmic gratification was almost simultaneously now enjoined by all.
Boudda experienced multiple orgasm as both her vagina and clitoris were
entertained by Bladud’s rampant genitalia, which in turn were being stimulated
from both the front and the back. The boy quickly followed, in response to his
obvious success in bringing the girl to euphoric climaxes, by beginning his
own to impregnate her with much semen. At the same time, Aethel again flooded
the young priestling’s insides with yet more of his reproductive elixir.
Afterwards, Aethel collapsed onto Bladud, who in turn fell onto Boudda.
However, the girl, recovering from receiving her enchanting reward and
becoming aware of the substantial weight on top of her, eventually suggested
politely but successfully, and with a sweet giggle, that the threesome, still
joined by intruding but now softening male members, should separate.
Boudda subsequently supervised the tidying up of three young bodies, including
applying some soothing salve to Bladud’s anus, and the dishevelled bedding,
stained with spilt precum and cum, before preparing some supper. No-one
commented that all three chose not to redress in their tunics but instead
remain naked. No-one also later remarked when only one of the three beds was
occupied that night.
Over the next few days, Bladud knew that he had to make a very awkward
decision. Should he accept the kind invitation proffered by Boudda and Aethel
to live permanently with them on their secret little island, being very well
cared for and enjoying good companionship and much sexual passion, or move on?
The boy eventually reluctantly concluded that the latter was the better, safer
option for all concerned. The great bog was simply too close to the great
temple and, if he was somehow found to be with the twins, the repercussions
for the threesome would be very unpleasant.
It was therefore with heavy hearts that, a week after his escape from
Stonehenge, Boudda and Aethel led Bladud to the southern edge of the great
bog, where beyond everywhere should now be safe after such a time lapse, so
that the escapee priestling could continue his flight. The twins had tried
their best to dissuade the boy from his course of action but he was adamant
that he would not endanger their wellbeing, despite their willingness to take
the risk.
Boudda had dyed Bladud’s tunic to disguise its origin. The garment was now a
dark brown instead of being a bright red. She and her brother had also
provided him with a fleece coat to protect him from cold and a large leather
satchel with all the provisions he possibly could carry in it. They also gave
him a knife for protection.
The threesome stood in the shrubbery cover on the edge of the great bog as
they made their tearful farewells, Boudda and Aethel also making one last
desperate entreaty to Bladud to stay. The boy almost succumbed until he
remembered what the people at the great temple would do to the twins if they
ever discovered that the pair had been hiding him. The selfless and brave 13
years old therefore maintained his stance.
“May your gods go with you and protect you,” Boudda wished between sobs. “May
they give you a long, prosperous and happy life, with a good wife and many
children,” she continued, whilst hinting at the future she had actually hoped
to enjoy herself with the escapee priestling. Aethel was too broken-hearted to
say anything, his crying and tears so fulsome. The two boys therefore just
hugged each other for a long time after Bladud had expressed similar heart-
rendering wishes for the twins’ future after hearing the girl’s declaration.
Finally, Bladud turned to Boudda and gave her a lingering embrace too, this
time accompanied by a kiss, before gently encouraging her to release her
desperate grasp on him. The boy wiped his own tears from his face, as he
turned to begin his journey south across the plain. He had not advanced very
far when he turned to look at the foliage from which he had just emerged. The
partly hidden twins were still present. Their faces were still lachrymose but
they now had their arms resting across each other’s shoulders, as they
despaired at the sight of the departure of the boy whose pleasant personality
and superb body had brought so much happiness to their otherwise rather bleak
lonely lives over the past week.
Bladud waved and received the same response. The boy so much wanted to run
back to them and say that he had changed his mind. However, the recurring
thought about the appalling consequences of discovery still invaded his
consciousness and so he continued his lonely advance across the plain, towards
unknown lands and an uncertain future. When the 13 years old eventually turned
again, he still saw from a distance the two sad 15 years old faces looking at
him. It was only when he crossed the brow of a gentle incline that not only
did the beautiful twin visages disappear from view but also the great bog
itself.
It was early morning and Bladud was intent on making as much progress as
possible in daylight. He was planning to walk to the great sea, somewhere he
had never seen, but with no particular purpose in mind after reaching that
particular destination, which he knew would take several days to attain at
least. The boy hoped that, by the time the first part of his journey was over,
he would have formulated a better strategy as to what he should then do.
However, his scheme, as well as his march, was quickly endangered when he
suddenly heard the ominous distant sound of barking dogs, coming ever closer.
Bladud began running in a continued southerly direction. If these were the
hunting dogs of the people who controlled Stonehenge, somehow still looking
for him, the boy had no intention of returning to the northerly protective
cover of the great bog because that might put Boudda and Aethel in peril.
However, the 13 years old’s sprint was slowed by the weight he was carrying. A
trio of large fierce growling hounds, jaws drooling copious phlegm and
revealing vicious sharp teeth, not only soon overtook him but also brought his
progress to an abrupt halt by surrounding him menacingly, in a well-trained
triangular formation.
Bladud considered using his knife in an attack on the beasts but he swiftly
dismissed the notion when the animal threesome was quickly joined by a human
threesome mounted on a threesome of horses. The petrified boy noticed that one
of the riders was a priest from the great temple, who would recognise him
despite the change of colour to his tunic. The tremulous 13 years old suddenly
began to appreciate that Boudda would not only be the first female whom he
would enjoy but also his last, even if he survived his now undoubted terrible
atonement for his attempted flight from gelding and entry into the priesthood
at Stonehenge.
(To be continued in chapter 4 – ‘Atonement’)
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Subsets and Splits