I never thought I would write story for Eunuch Archive, let alone a mostly true story (characters and events have been condensed). It all happened so fast. I was a middle aged divorced male, white, 5’8’, 165 lbs. I have two wonderful children. I raised them alone after my wife left because she decided she didn’t want to be married. Before I was married I had many girlfriends and a few after I was divorced. I though being gay was repulsive.
That suddenly changed within the last eighteen months. It started with the Internet, as many things do today. I was always a fan of porn and the Internet made it readily available. Never went to any web pages that you had to pay for though. I loved to look at pictures but especially loved to read the stories. Cannibalism stories fascinated me, and I read as many as I could find. Somewhere along that time I found the Eunuch Archive. These stories truly turned me on. I fantasized about being a eunuch or nullo. In one bulletin entry I found a reference to the Extreme Genital Modification Page. This was great. I was becoming more and more turned on by looking at men. I was also becoming obsessed with always being naked while at home. I began completely shaving my body except head hair.
I then became so bold as to put pictures of my body on the Extreme web page with a profile that I wished to be a nullo or castrated. Then it started to get serious. I found myself thinking about what it would be like to be screwed my another man, what it would be like to suck another man’s dick and swallow. When I jacked off I often ate my own come. I decided I wasn’t ready to be castrated and became interested in the large balls and dicks the pumpers had modified. I sent messages to several and one responded. This was the beginning.
We switched to meeting online privately. He showed me how to use a web cam and for the first time I was showing my naked body to another man in live action. This led to him leading me through ordering pumping supplies and starting to pump my dick and balls. I was now obsessed with having huge balls and a huge dick and was getting there. My balls were large and I loved it. Something else was happening at this time, he asked me to jack-off for him and I did. I kept jacking off whenever he asked me. He led me to the pumper’s page, where the chat room has a live cam feed. Now I was showing my package to a chat room of total strangers. It was fantastic; I had never felt so turned on.
The conversation started to be more about gay sex. I found my self-asking to be fucked. I wanted my balls to be pumped large and then I wanted to be fucked. I could just feel those big dicks fucking me. He invited me to his town. He said we could pump and he would help with saline injections, which would make my balls really huge. I wanted this and I wanted to put pictures on the web page so others could see me. I was following a path that would change me forever.
My new friend showed me dildo’s he had on hand. He said we could try these. One was shaped like a large dogs dick. This I found very interesting. I looked up bestiality stories on the net and became turned on by the idea. My friend mentioned slave master relationship and having read many stories in the Archives I was turned on with the though of being a slave. Things were escalating. I dreamed of being in a dog collar and leash and nothing else. I dreamed of being fucked and sucking dick. And really strange I dreamed of being held by a large dog and fucked by a dog. These dreams were closer than I could imagine.
My friend invited me to his city and amazingly I accepted. Me the straight stud who never even thought about gay things until the last year. I made arrangements for a suite and took some vacation time. I brought my pumping equipment and lots of rubbers. I was finally going to get fucked. How much and by how many I could not have guessed.
I arrived and we met at a restaurant. We had dinner then we went to his condo. He had a partner who was not home at the time. After some conversation we got down to the nitty gritty. We both had seen each other naked many times on the web cam but this was up close and personal. He was hairy but not too much as compared to my totally smooth look. After we were naked we immediately set our pump session. I was totally hard and could barely fit in the pumping tube. We pumped for a few hours till we were pretty large. It was great to have someone besides myself massage my balls during the breaks.
I was harder than I have ever been. At one point we were very close, as need be, when he leaned over and kissed me. A man had never kissed me before it was frightening but I began to love it. For the first time in my life I was the passive party, I was the bitch. Our tongues intertwined, it was wonderful. The next thing I knew he was pushing me gently down his chest, I licked and sucked his nipples, he groaned as I moved on down. Then it was there, my first dick up close. I licked it, the taste was not gross. I took it in my mouth; it was so smooth and silky. I liked the pre-come and tasted it on my tongue. Finally I sucked it; I took as much as I could in my mouth. I did the things I know I like. I licked the under side right behind the head. Slowly I sucked and licked until, again for the first time, another man came in my mouth. I swallowed it all, it tasted great. I felt this was right for me.
I stood up and we kissed more. His hairy body against mine felt wonderful. We went back to pumping until we were both huge. The rest of the evening we relaxed and talked. He said tomorrow things would get serious. I arrived early the next day. He took me to the living room and said take off all your clothes, which I love to do anyway. After I was naked he walked behind me and placed leather studded dog collar around my neck. This would be all I would wear that day and many other days. A leash was hooked and I was led to the bedroom where we pumped up for the day to come.
It was that afternoon, after we pumped, he hugged and kissed me again and gently led me to the bed. On the nightstand was plenty of lube. He laid me on my back on the bed. He lifted my legs and lubed my ass. I had never had anyone’s fingers up my ass before, it felt good. He placed my legs on his shoulders and his dick at my ass hole. Ever so slowly he entered my ass. It was a little painful at first but it felt so good I quickly became adjusted. Slowly he pumped me, I came on my stomach without being touched. I know this was right for me. He picked up speed as I became more comfortable. We both were moaning as I began to feel his cock swell, when I realized he hadn’t put on a condom. I didn’t care at this point. Then he moaned loudly, thrust hard and he came in me. I was amazed I could feel him coming in me. He stayed in me and held me for a while. I loved the feel of his hairy body on mine.
His partner was coming home that evening and I was in for more new experiences. I was naked all day except for my collar and leash. My friend helped me shave my body, reaching places I could never get to, my back and ass hole. It was a great feeling, I was hard constantly. My huge balls hanging out bouncing against my thighs was so great. I found it very erotic that my friend was dressed while I stayed naked. His partner came home to find me naked and leashed. While he wasn’t as interested in me as my friend, he was very nice. After dinner we went on-line to the Pumpers page with the live cams.
There we showed ourselves and pumped along with others. Many liked my smooth look and when during a pump break some noticed I was semi hard asked me to jerk off. I was too shy but my friend took charge and much to the delight of everyone watching he jerked me off, another first for me. I though my dick would burst it was so hard. We signed off and moved to the bed. My friend again gently pushed me downward, I took the hint and moved to his dick and began to suck. As I was doing this my ass was naturally in the air and soon I felt lube being applied as his partner slowly eased his dick into my ass hole. I was being fucked at both ends and loving it.
They both picked up speed and finally thrust into me and held me tight as they both came in me seconds apart. Again we forgot the condoms but who cared it felt so good. I could feel and taste the come. I spent the next day naked with my collar while we pumped till our dicks and balls were so big we couldn’t have fit them in any of our underwear. In one weekend I went from a heterosexual man with children and some fantasies to a naked, gay, bottom, that had been fucked from both ends and loved it. I couldn’t wait to get back the next weekend. My friend had some new things in store.
Finally the next weekend rolled around and I drove to my friend’s city. I didn’t bother with a hotel room this time. As soon as I entered the door off came my clothes and on went the collar. After dinner he said he had a big surprise for me. We were going out! Since I was naked it might be a problem. My friend had this solved. He put a graduation type gown on me. The collar and leash still showed as he led me to the car. We pulled up in front of a gay bar. My first time in a gay bar and I was basically naked and being led around on a leash. I should have said naked because as soon as we entered the gown came off. I was totally naked in a roomful of gay men. I was also totally erect, almost painful I was so hard. With my pumped up balls I was freakish. I was also very popular. Everyone was touching me as my friend, or should I now say it “Master” led me through the crowd. God I was turned on. We sat a table in the back as my Master talked quietly to many of the patrons. After a while he pulled my leash and we went to a special room in the back. It had a padded table in the middle with some towels and a bottle of lube. I was laid on the table and my Master rubbed me down then lubed my ass.
Then men started entering the room four and five at a time. I was fucked on my back flipped over and fucked on my stomach doggie style (which I liked the best). While I was being fucked dicks were stuck in my mouth and I sucked till my jaw hurt, swallowing loads of come in all flavors. Of the dicks in my ass some had condoms some did not. All I knew was come was running out all over my ass. I came several times by men jerking me off while they fucked me. I have no idea how many men fucked or I sucked that night but I was very sore. My Master, in anticipation, was thoughtful enough to have brought a diaper since I no longer could hold anything in my stretched ass hole. We went back to his house where he cleaned me in the shower gave me a big kiss and put me to bed.
The next day since my ass hole was already stretched my Master tried the dog dildo on me. It was very long but the knot just would not go in, it was too big even for my used ass hole. The length and strange shape did feel good. We pumped again, I can’t get over my huge balls, and I returned home sore but satisfied. I couldn’t wait to get back the next weekend.
The weekend started the same, enter strip, collar. After dinner the gown was put on and in the car we went. This time we drove out into the countryside. We pulled into a long drive leading to a secluded house. This was a friend of my Master, we left the robe in the car and I was led naked to the house. We entered and sat for some small talk. After a while my Master’s friend said let’s get started and I was led into a large den type room where I saw him. Him was a large dog. I don’t think he was a pure bred anything just a large dog like a Rotweiler or something. Buster was his name. I was placed over a small padded bench in the middle of the room, resting on my stomach my ass sticking out. The Master’s friend rubbed something on my balls and ass. As soon as he opened the jar the dog perked up and smelled the air. “Buster” moves to me and began to lick my balls and ass. I was rock hard at the thought of what was going to happen. My master slipped his hand between the dog and me and lubed my ass hole. It was going to happen, after all the stories I read and videos I watched on the Internet that turned me on so much I was about to fucked by a dog.
You cannot imagine how good it feels when the dog lays on your back with his very warm and furry body. It is like a living blanket. My own dick was about to explode when the dog’s owner lined the dog’s dick up with my ass. I want to tell you it is not very easy to be fucked by a dog. Their dick keeps slipping out as they hump very fast. With a little help from the dog’s owner he managed to keep the dog’s dick pumping in me pretty well. It is a fantastic feeling because the dog moves so fast and generates so much heat. My ass hole kept trying to suck the dog dick in me and keep it. Remember I could not take the canine dildo’s knot so I thought no way a real dogs knot would fit. However with the owners pushing and the knot being slightly smaller combined with plenty of lube the knot went in me.
You might not know this but after it enters the bitch it sort of turns sideways to stay in. It didn’t hurt for it to do this but there was no way it would come out without ripping me apart. Just after the knot turned and locked the dog in me, the dog began to come. It was more than I could have dreamed, it thinner that people come, and it just kept squirting. I felt so full. The dog then turned around swiveling his dick in me till we were ass to ass. I had to stay this way for about thirty minutes till the knot turned around and the dog could break lose out of my ass. The dog come then gushed out of my ass for about a minute and a half. I was so satisfied and happy. I hoped to do this again many times. It was especially great when the dog licked my dick and ass clean.
We alternated situations like these for several months, it was great. I had huge balls, was regularly fucked and I loved sucking dicks. But things were about to change and this is why this story is in the Eunuch Archive. It started a few months ago; I was living a regular life in my town and my weekends in my Masters city getting fucked and pumping. I began to feel soreness in my balls. They became very sensitive. I finally had to see an urologist. I chose to find a doctor in another city since my new lifestyle may have factored in to my problem. As luck would have it the doctor turned out to be gay and was very understanding.
The catch was my sore balls had nothing to do with my life style. It was a congenial birth defect something about my cords being tensioned. He said it was amazing that it didn’t bother me before. My balls were not getting enough circulation and constant pain would be the result. It would be like being kicked in the balls all the time. The remedies are heavy use of pain killing drugs with their side effects or double orchiectomy (take out my balls). They could put fake balls back in my sack so I would not look different and I could take testosterone to keep my masculinity. I thought about this and discussed it with my Master. Remember at the beginning of my saga reading about castration was a turn on for me. Now I had to make a choice give up the huge balls I get from pumping or constant pain. I decided to give up my balls.
Now the decision was how, when and where. The doctor was great he understood my dilemma and would help in anyway. The only way he was allowed to operate was thru the abdomen and besides that was the only way to remove my cords which were the real problem anyway. The doctor helped big time in two ways. First, he agreed to save my balls and return them to me even though it is against medical rules. He also contacted a plastic surgeon in the gay community to remove my sack and make me smooth below my dick. It helped that the urologist owned his own clinic with a surgical suite. I scheduled the surgery and took a months vacation and sick leave. Another handy thing was since it was a medical necessity to remove my balls my insurance was paying for it. The doctors agree to manage the plastic surgeons fees in the bill to insurance. My Master agreed to help me recover. My children thought it was hernia surgery.
Now I come to today, two months later. I am officially a eunuch. My stitches are gone and were my balls used to be is a fine little scar with still a little redness. My Master and I decided no hormones. My dick has already shrunk to the size of a big clit, no more fucking for me (like the look however, just a little button at the top of my groin). My hips are rounder and easier for my Master and others (including the dog) to grip. And another part I really, really like is my little breasts. They are so pretty. My nipples have gotten much bigger and I get so turned on when they are sucked. It is much easier to keep hair off my body since it has stopped growing dark and coarse. My whole body seems more sensitive. My weight has dropped to about 140 lbs. If I wear something tight I have the body of a girl.
I still live and go to work in my city. Nobody knows my secret, they think I was sick and lost weight. I wear baggy clothes to work. On the weekends I go to my masters. I am still naked and collared as soon as I enter. He still likes to fuck me and I like to suck him. We go to the gay bar about once a month, where they really like to feel me up. I don’t think as many want to fuck me as before. I must look too much like a girl now. I would like to dress like a girl but my Master pretty much keeps me naked so clothes aren’t necessary. I really love more than ever being fucked by the dog (or dogs I should say there have been more since the first). I do sometimes miss my pumped up dick. I can come rubbing my nubbin dick but it’s not the same. I don’t get that feeling when the come shoots out. But other sensations make up for it.
So that’s my story up to now. I started out being turned on by eunuch stories, moved to pumping and big balls and being fucked. Then in a round about way ended up a real gay eunuch and loving it. I want to get pictures posted on some web page soon so everyone can enjoy me.
Oh by the way, my Master brought my balls home in a jar and prepared them, then sautéed them and I ate one the he ate the other. Tasted good had the consistency of liver but was a delight anyway. I only regret I could only eat them once.
Thanks for sharing my saga.
I’m a 35 year old bodybuilder who abused steroids in my weight training for many years. I achieved the body I wanted, but eventually developed serious problems which required my stopping the injections cold. Deprived of the drug my body had come to count on, my testicles went into overdrive, producing double the normal amount of testosterone. It sent me through the roof, causing aggressive behavior and an inability to control my sexual desires. Morning till night, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but sex. Work suffered, as well as, my relationship of ten years. As months passed, I believed that things would return to normal, but after several confrontations, my partner announced that he wasn’t going to tolerate my behavior any longer and would leave if I didn’t get help.
I went through several drugs meant to control hormone production, including those used in chemical castration of sex offenders. The side effects totally took me down, basically leaving me unable to function at work, the gym or at home. Frustrated with my options, I asked the question I had avoided for months. “Castration would solve the problem, right?” My doctor recoiled at the mention of the “c” word. He answered, “yes”, but that it was absolutely not an option he would consider as a treatment. I was on my own.
I sat with my partner that evening and I explained what I was considering. I told him that castration would eliminate the rage and since I had been on steroids for many years, the thought of hormone replacement therapy didn’t really bother me. Avoiding the obvious pun, this was going to fix everything and I had decided castration wasn’t the worst thing that could happen in my life. Lots of guys have lost their testicles to cancer, prostrate trouble and they’ve done just fine.
I was surprised by his calm reaction. He listened intently, then said, “I don’t know what to say, that’s a serious move, one that can’t be undone. I mean I’ll support your decision without question – but that’s a hell of a sacrifice.” From that I figured I had his approval. Now I just have to figure out how to “do the deed”.
The options for castration are pretty limited- cutting, clamping or restriction. I immediately ruled out surgery because it required a third-party cutter – an outsider I wouldn’t know or trust. Cutting my ball sack open really bothered me. I figured this was something I had to do myself, so I searched the web for options which came down to a Burdizzo or an Elastrator. I found information on their use, effectiveness and recovery. I figured I had to go with a bloodless method and tough out whatever pain was associated with it.
In retrospect, I guess I must have had some hesitation, because I ruled out the Burdizzo. It would be quick and over with one 30-second crush. Definitely no turning back once you started, plus I wondered if would I be able to hold the grip if the pain was intense. So I opted for the Elastrator which came with a bag of 100 green castrating bands and a “cat claw” band cutter. I looked at the bands and thought, “Which one of you guys gets to do the deed.”
I examined the instrument, loaded a band on the four prongs and squeezed the jaws open. It worked simple enough, over the sack and let it go. My heart began to race. What would it feel like? Could I really go through with it? I decided to test it out. I stripped off my pants and shorts – my ball sack was now vulnerable.
With the Elastrator fully extended the band formed a nice square which easily slipped over my scrotum. I slowly released my grip letting the jaws and the band close around my ball sack. It was uncomfortable, but then I realized the prongs were sticking me. I worked the band off the first prong and then the second, third and finally free from the Elastrator. The band restricted into my sack but felt more comfortable than before. I can’t say it hurt, more like a strong pinch with a really strange feeling beginning to build. After only a minute or two, my scrotum turned red which meant the band was doing what is was designed for. I reached for the band cutters, I took a deep snip and the tight green band came free. As the stabbing pain of blood rushing back into the testicles and scrotum hit me, I realized that cutting it off hurt more than leaving it on.
Later that night when my partner came home, I showed him the Elastrator and explained how it worked. He immediately asked, “Have you tried it?” After I described my experience, he answered, “Doesn’t sound like you’re exactly ready, but if, and when, the time does comes, I’ll be here.”
In the next couple days we had a lot of sex, mostly because my hormones were continuing to race and we both realized my rampant desires were going to come to an end soon. Afterwards, it always came back to the same thing – we’d start talking about “doing the deed”..
I was becoming more comfortable with idea. Especially after I had met a guy on-line who claimed he had been castrated with a Elastrator. His first-hand account was pretty graphic which made me think it really was his experience. He told me about the “sick” feeling in the lower abdomen which let you know the testicles have been deprived of blood and the most difficult part for him – waiting for the damn things to fall off. All-in-all, it didn’t sound as bad as I had feared. I was even more determined to proceed.
It was late Friday night and we were almost asleep when my partner got up and left the room. I heard the bath tub running which struck me a odd since we both shower. Ten minutes later he came in and said, “I think this is the night to do the deed. We’ve got the weekend to deal with whatever happens as a result of tonight.” His logic made sense and I was relieved to follow his lead.
There in the bathroom my razor, shave cream and several towels where neatly laid out. He said, “Strip down and I’m going to shave your balls.” I asked if that was really necessary. “Probably not, lets just say this is for me.” He knelt in front of me and proceed to lather and shave my ball sack. He took his time which meant he was really enjoying this.
When he was finished, I added hot water to the waiting tub and sat down trying to relax. He commented, “A loose sack and balls will make it easier for the band to take a good hold from the start.” I looked at him, “Sounds like you’ve been doing a little research on your own.” He flipped back, “I have.” He then produced a 30mg Restoril. “Take this, it’ll help you relax and get to sleep later.” I took the pill and continued to soak, my freshly shaved scrotum floated freely in the water.
As the sedative kicked in, he knelt down by the side of the tub and started talking to me in a low, calm voice. “I told you from the beginning that I would support you through this. This has been a huge emotional strain to get to this point…for both of us. I picked tonight because we either need to get this done or drop it. It’s totally up to you if we continue or not, but if we do, I need to hear your commitment that once the band goes on, it doesn’t come off for any reason until it falls off. Frankly, I don’t think I can go through this again.”
I responded that I couldn’t agree more.
I dried off and he brought me my favorite workout shirt. The warm bath did it’s trick, my scrotum was loose with my two balls clearly defined and hanging low in the sack. He put one hand around me and opened a draw. There lay the Elastrator, loaded with a band. “Let’s make this real easy, I’m going do it for you.” I nodded with relief. It somehow seemed easier knowing I wasn’t doing this to myself, but that my partner was going to castrate me, which he now seemed quite determined to do.
He gripped the Elastrator retracting the band to its full capacity. “It’s going to be okay”, he assured me. As he moved the instrument up under my scrotum, it slipped through the square made by the extended band. As he released the grip and the band closed in, he pulled my scrotum down to insure a tight fit to top of the sack under my cock. As before, I felt the prongs of the Elastrator sticking me. One by one he worked the band off the first three prongs, then stopped for a moment and looked at me. Remembering my commitment, I nodded my approval and the band slipped from the final prong embedding itself into my skin. The constriction was more intense than the first time, the loose sack did make it easier for the band to bite in and take hold.
The Elastrator immediately went back in the drawer and my partner put his arms around me and took me into the bedroom. “It will be better if you lay down.” That strange feeling was starting to come over me. My ball sack and testicle wanted to retreat, but the band restricted their once free movement. As I laid down the feeling crept into my abdomen just as I had been advised. A queasy belly ache – not really pain, but very uncomfortable none the less. Even with the sedative, it was difficult to relax. My body wasn’t happy about what was happening as the band continued to restrict tighter with each passing minute.
My partner laid down next to me stroking my chest and abdomen and finally reached down to my crotch and stroked my captured balls. “You doing okay?” It was hard to speak, I just nodded. I knew he couldn’t resist seeing his handy work and after about thirty minutes he took a look. “It’s definitely doing the job. Your sack is dark purple.” The ache had intensified and the pinch of the band had started to throb. I figured this was probably it, the point of no return and I tried to clear my mind of what was happening. As I rolled on my side, I could feel the ball sack had turned cold as it lay against my thigh. It already felt foreign, not a part of my body. With my partner spooned on my backside, his arm over me as a protector, I did manage to fall into a daze.
When I woke the next morning, I found my partner standing over me looking down at my crotch. Eight hours had passed since the band had been secured and pretty much the “deed” had been done. The ache in my belly had subsided and the only pain was from the compressed skin just above the band. I reached down for the first time and found my scrotum cold and without feeling. I worked my fingers around my testicles which produced no sensation either. I looked up at my partner and asked the stupid question, “How does it look?” His somber expression told me all I needed to know, but he answered anyway. “Well, it’s pretty black. I think it’s safe to say their finished. The band has cut into the skin to the point I can hardly see it.”
I spent the next two days in bed. My body was worn down by the trauma. But even by the morning after I realized that my over charged drive was gone. The band had done it’s work alright, cutting off the blood stopped the flow of testosterone. That perked my spirits. I had accomplished what I set out to do. But this black cold lump of dead tissue was starting to bug me. It had been more than two and a half days since I was banded. There seemed to be some uncertainty how long it would take to fall off on its own, but I wanted it gone now. So I called my doctor and made an appointment.
When the doctor came in I was wearing my baggy workout pants. He asked what was up and I flatly told him that he wasn’t going to be happy to see me.
When I pulled down my pants he grimaced at the sight. “I took things into my own hands. Now that it’s done, I want to have it rest removed…today, if possible.” He shook his head and said, “Unbelievable, you actually did it.” With great reluctance he groved his hands and began feeling around my black ball sack. I could tell the testicles had started to become mushy as I watched him probe around, but no feeling whatsoever. “I’m going to call a surgeon friend about this. This needs to be removed above the band and sutured closed to avoid serious complications. Under the circumstances, I’m sure he will see you today. It will be a fairly easy in-office procedure. Then I suggest you find yourself another doctor.”
It’s been five years since the banding and I haven’t regretted it for a day. My partner and I have built a strong relationship which really started that night when he releasing the band from the final prong. He will always be the guy that “did the deed” for which he takes full responsibility. I know it sounds sadistic, but that’s a bond that will always be there. And just to remind me, he comes home every so often and greets me with, “How’s my gelding?”..but only in private.
A permanent commitment is a very serious one. I need to trust that if you are making such a commitment, that you will be doing everything in your power to ensure that I will never again be a free man. I would hope that, should you become unwilling or unable to keep me as your slave in the future, that you would attempt to make other arrangements to ensure that I remain the property of a suitable master for the rest of my life.
A permanent arrangement assumes that I will become your property for the rest of my life, in other words, forever. I can only make that sort of commitment if I am sure that all reasonable efforts are made to ensure that it forever truly means forever.
While it’s a lot to read, there’s a story on this site which has inspired me. It’s about a guy becoming a permanent slave, and you can tell that from day one, he knew that his commitment truly was forever, that he would never escape.
For me to feel like I’ve become a permanent slave to you, I would like you to take all reasonable steps to ensure that if something is meant to be permanent, that it feels permanent. An example is the collar that you lock on me at the beginning of our commitment.
It’s my dream to have a collar permanently attached to my neck. There’s a company that makes a permanent collar, but it’s also possible to rivet, weld, solder, or even use a bit of JB Weld to close most collars permanently.
The Only Requirement To Make Me Your Slave Forever
While I’m laying out on these pages some of the things I HOPE will happen, there is only one requirement that I have (other than what appears on the limits page). If you desire to make me your slave for the rest of your life, you will ensure that the collar placed around my neck is permanently attached. While we might not start with a metal collar on day one, we can make it a top priority to obtain one.
With most non permanent collars, you could simply cut the lock to remove it, if it’s permanently attached, it can’t be removed, not by me and not by anyone else. It’s there forever. Because it’s permanently attached, my mental need to feel that it is there forever is satisfied because it truly is.
My biggest fear in this whole thing is that at some point in the future, a situation will occur in which you are unable to keep me as your slave, and I will be sent out into the world with no resources, or worse yet, starve to death because you died in a car accident or something.
That is not to say that I fear dying in this situation. If I agree to give you complete control for the rest of my life, that assumes that at some point (hopefully many many years from now) I will eventually die. With the example of the collar above, I know that if it is permanently attached, that I will die wearing it. Without trying to sound morbid, I look forward to that day, as it tells me I truly gave my entire life to you.
I realize that I could potentially live another 50+ years, and that that is a big commitment to make. I would ask that shortly after you have taken permanent control of my life that you begin to make some contingency plans in case of emergencies.
From the moment the collar is attached to my neck I am literally and figuratively handing over control of my life. I ask that, if some day in the future, perhaps 10 years from now, you find yourself in a situation where you need to end our relationship, that you make every reasonable effort to sell or give me to another suitable master.
Some things I would hope become permanent
While I only truly ask that my collar become a permanent attachment to my body, there are a few other things that you may consider doing at some point in the future. Again, these things are optional, but are things I would truly like you to consider.
Another story which has inspired me greatly is the story where the main character becomes a human urinal and is locked into that role for the rest of his life. While it may be unfeasible for the actual act of being a urinal to be a 24/7/365 arrangement due to health issues, There is no reason that, like the main character, the doors on the cage are closed forever. The cage doors could be sealed in much the same way that the collar would be sealed around my neck. If the doors were welded closed, I would know that I was locked inside forever. With the appropriate cage, there should be no issues.
The final issue is one which MAY be a bad idea, perhaps better left in fantasy, but it’s something I’ve fantasized about for well over 25 years. When you make the decision to make my slavery permanent, with no possible means of escape, I would like you to consider forever taking away my ability to cum at the same time. This can be accomplished by permanently attaching a chastity belt in a way it can never be removed, or through simple castration (I have the tools required). The first keeps me horny for the rest of my life, the second removes my sex drive. You may have other reasons for NOT fulfilling this request, but forever taking away my ability to come gives you complete control over me physically and mentally.
The night after castrating and sending my former slave off to his fate, I slept well, knowing that I had done the right thing. Now, however, I was without a slave. Good slaves, the kind one keeps, are difficult to find. I resolved to select very carefully this time.
My search began on the ‘Net. Using my access to the highly secure “Masters Only” website, I posted a “Slave Wanted” notice. After a few weeks of no replies, I decided to check the usual haunts in the city – a none too enticing prospect. However, to my good fortune, I was greeted with the sight of a slight young Asian man moving into my building. He looked to be perfect slave material. He was in his early twenties, slender and very feminine in his movements and gestures. His attitude suggested a wealthy upbringing. Often, wealthy Asian families “exile” their gay offspring to New York City, where they fit into the culture readily. At home, they would be an embarrassment, causing loss of face and scandal. This young man was just moving in. It was mildly amusing watching him order the moving company personnel around with his effeminate gestures and high-pitched voice.
Later, I asked the doorman which apartment he had taken. I was told “11C,” in a tone that indicated displeasure, probably over an insufficient gratuity, certainly not over his sexual orientation.
I let my candidate settle in for a few days, and then prepared a note which read “If you want a good master, be in the lobby on Friday at noon wearing a red kerchief around your neck.” This, I slipped under his door after I had seen him leave the building with his dog. I waited the few days until Friday, then went down to the lobby at noon. He was there, a blazing red scarf wrapped around his slim neck. I walked over, smiling. His face lit up. “I was hoping it would be you,” he said. “Come with me. Now,” I told him firmly. Obediently, he followed me into the elevator and, after the ride up, into the foyer of my apartment. I explained the necessity of a blood test before he was initiated. This he understood and agreed to. I tied off his right arm, painted the inside of his elbow with antiseptic, punctured one of his veins and withdrew several tubes of blood for testing. He let me do all this without resistance. I packaged the tubes, called the lab for pickup, then had the doorman come fetch the package from outside my apartment. The results, which I hoped would be negative, would be phoned to me tomorrow morning. That out of the way, I began to explain what was expected of him. Absolute obedience without any discussion was the first requirement. No matter how unpleasant the task seemed, he was to undertake it immediately and without argument. As my slave, he would be well cared for but his unwavering devotion was expected at all times. Displeasing me would result in long, painful punishments the like of which he couldn’t even imagine. I explained to him what I had done with my previous slave. He understood. I also explained that I would be removing his balls as soon as the test results came back. At first, a little fear blossomed in his eyes, but that was soon swept away by a look of complete submission.
Ordered to strip, he did so quickly. He pirouetted, spread his butt cheeks for my examination. His balls were medium sized, hung in a small sac just below his uncut penis, which was none too large in length or diameter. His body was slender and firm, his skin was healthy. His hair was a bit too long for my taste. The overall impression was one of a restrained urge to please in any way possible. I approved. If the tests worked out, he would make an excellent slave.
To my question about how he had come to move into my building, he answered that one afternoon his father had caught him in the throes of passionate lovemaking with a boy from his school. He and the other boy had been beaten unmercifully. Because his partner was of the lower classes, his punishment had been less severe. To avoid embarrassment to his wealthy family, he had been taught English by a female tutor and had not been allowed in the presence of any other male, except his Father, while he was being educated for his exile to our country. He told me that he had missed his friend, but that he realized that there was no way for him to have any such relationship in his country. His family had set up a trust fund to cover his needs, purchased an apartment for him to live in and told him never to try to get in touch with them again. His father was looking forward to being notified of his death from AIDS. He went on to say that he had long dreamed of being subjected to the will of a strong male and that he hated his testicles and wanted them removed. In all, he seemed the perfect slave candidate.
I explained to him that he was always to address me as “master” and that I would always address him as “slave,” since I would have only one slave at a time. He accepted this with a “Yes, Master.” We retired to separate rooms for the night.
The lab called the following day to let me know that he was negative for HIV and other venereals tested for. It was time to get to work.
Several years ago, I had had a soundproof room constructed in my apartment for the purpose of disciplining slaves without disturbing my neighbors. The room had an adjustable restraining table, a small surgical sterilizing facility, a video camera, TV and VCR for recording, a microwave and other equipment, such as ceiling and wall hooks. The room had its own plumbing. It was painted in white enamel and all the hardware was of stainless steel. Clean and efficient. Over time, I had castrated a number of other masters’ slaves as well as two of my own.
In preparation for harvesting his glands, I had my slave bathe in hot water to soften and loosen his scrotal skin. Using antiseptic soap, I washed off his entire body and carefully depilated his scrotum. He enjoyed this prepping and became fully erect as I escorted him into my special room. Forbidden to speak, he had given several gasps of pleasure while bathing and being cleaned. At the sight of the table, he let his towel fall to the floor and turned to me with a questioning look. Without a word, I turned him around to face the table, adjusted it to his height, inserted his erection into the hole provided and strapped his legs down firmly, spread apart so that his sac hung down and was easily accessible.
Because I like to operate in silence, there was an inflatable heavy rubber gag supplied by a hose near the table. This I took and placed into my slave’s mouth, on top of his tongue, then turned a stopcock to allow compressed air to inflate the gag. The valve allowed air to flow into the gag. Deflating it was accomplished by unscrewing another valve in the gag. Shortly, the gag filled his mouth. He couldn’t cry out and could breathe only through his nose. I applied the arm and head restraints. I moved the TV in front of the table and opened up the eye slot so that he could see the screen. Next, I positioned the video camera so that an image of his hanging balls appeared on the screen. Completely gagged and tightly restrained, he could watch his own castration.
From the way he was suggestively moving his butt, I could tell that he wanted me to fuck him. I decided to fuck him until he came, holding my own orgasm until he was fully my slave. Using jojoba oil as a lubricant, I inserted myself into his tight butt hole, slowly working my way in. It felt good. It took a lot of pressure to make his sphincter give way, and the slave gave a muffled cry as I suddenly advanced my full length up into him. With willpower, I held myself back, using my prod to massage his prostate until I felt it pulse repeatedly against my cockhead. Although I couldn’t see, I knew that his dick had jetted his last sperm-bearing load out onto the floor under the table. Pulling out immediately, I washed off my cock with antiseptic solution, then painted his dangling sac with antiseptic all the way up and back to his butt hole. Now he was ready. A hair dryer set at maximum heat provided the stream of hot air that loosened his sac and made his balls dangle far from his body. I made a small cut parallel to where his scrotum joined his body. With a small pair of surgical scissors, I snipped carefully around the sac where it joined his body, being careful to cut only the sac skin. When the circle was complete, I tugged his scrotum free, leaving his small balls dangling by their cords from his body. They looked like pinkish-gray cherries hanging there, waiting to be picked. Using my electrocautery needle, I sealed up the bleeders in the circular sac wound. To simplify his nutting, I twirled his balls around each other until the cords formed a single braid. This I sutured off as close to his body as possible. “Are you ready to give up your balls, slave?” He nodded his head. With a single swipe of the scalpel, I harvested his manhood. Working quickly, I cauterized the ends of the cords, then ran a suture in and out of the skin all the way around the open cut where his sac had been. With one finger, I pushed the cords back up into his body, then drew the suture very tight, closing the sac wound like a purse. I tied off the suture and spent a few minutes cauterizing any spots that looked as if they might bleed. When the wound healed, my slave would have a small roseate scar just below the base of his penis instead of a sac containing balls. A big improvement for a slave, believe me. I painted the area with antiseptic again. Now it was my turn. First, I loosened the straps that were immobilizing his legs. After painting my sac with antiseptic to avoid spreading infection, I inserted myself into his backside again and took my pleasure as the first man to have this eunuch slave. My pleasure was enhanced by his rapid movements, and, after a few minutes I emptied my balls up his ass with a great cry of release. A fully satisfying orgasm, one I would not soon forget.
I deflated his gag and freed him from the restraints. He stood up and looked at me expectantly. “Clean up the room. When you are finished, bring me your severed parts,” I ordered. After about twenty minutes, he presented me with his severed balls in a small stainless steel bowl.. My inspection revealed that he had done an excellent job cleaning up. Everything was sterilized and back where it belonged. An excellent job. This slave would serve me well. I picked up his dead balls. “Open your mouth, slave!” I placed his balls into his open mouth and closed it. “Now, chew and swallow.” He did so. So began his life as my eunuch slave.
Note: At this stage, this post is purely fantasy, based on an arrangement that almost was…
After actively searching for over 5 years, I believe that I may have found the right person, and if all goes as planned, I will become his full time slave within a few weeks.
It’s been a struggle weeding through those who were only seeking short term unrealistic situations, as well as finding someone with whom I could find a mutual trust and respect.
I’ll begin by describing our arrangement, and toward the end of this post, I’ll attempt to explain why certain decisions were reached in the hope that others will benefit from my experiences.
First and foremost, we understood that there is a major difference between fantasy and reality, but we needed to arrange a situation where both the fantasy aspects and the reality of life could live in the same space.
The first day that I arrive to become his slave will be the day where the most fantasy elements come into play.
He has agreed to make this first day fit as closely as possible to my fantasies, because from that day forward, I will have given up all choices, and my life will be entirely within his hands. I must trust that he will respect my limits
The day will actually begin the night before, when I will check into a local hotel for my last night as a free man. I will have all the gear and supplies ready for his arrival in the morning.
When morning arrives, the process of transforming me into a slave will begin. He is bringing a van, and an assistant, for reasons which will become obvious soon.
Upon his arrival, our first order of business will be to create a video. I will explain in this video that I am entering into this arrangement of my own free will, and explain the basics of what will happen, along with making it clear that I am giving complete control to my new master. This is intended to protect him should the need arise in the future.
The rest of the mornings events will also be filmed, for possible use at a future date.
After removing my street clothing and changing into a latex catsuit, steel cuffs will be secured around my neck, ankles, and wrists. This has a functional purpose in that it will always provide my master a quick and convenient anchor point for my arms and legs, as well as a convenient place to secure a leash at any point.
The intent is to begin with the leg cuffs, and after the screw that doubles as a lock is secured, we will use a soldering gun to cover the hole where the screw is located, which will have the effect of making it impossible to remove the cuffs without major effort (I have attempted to cut these with a hacksaw, and it is virtually impossible). Once soldered on, even if I got cold feet, I would have no choice but to wear these cuffs for the rest of my life.
Next my wrists will be cuffed, and again, welded shut with the soldering gun. Finally, a steel collar would be placed around my neck, and welded closed. At this point, I will have no choice but to continue my transformation, as even if I chose to walk away at this point, I would be collared and cuffed forever.
We will then leave the hotel, which will be prepaid for at least one more night, making sure to leave my cell phone behind in the room. It will be impossible to trace my phone to his location via GPS (should anyone attempt), and equally important, I will be leaving all of the information for my contacts behind. I am agreeing to enter into this arrangement as a lifetime slave, and part of that for me includes that no one I know should be able to locate me and attempt to “rescue me”.
Whether I find that this arrangement works for me, or I discover that I am unhappy, I will have no choice to terminate the situation. Once we complete the next stage of my transformation, it will be impossible for me to escape.
After the collar and cuffs are welded on, it will be time for me to enter the cage that we are having custom designed for our needs (the time and funds it takes to have this custom made are the primary reason that it will take us a few weeks to begin).
For this, we will travel in his van for a few blocks to pick up the cage at the store which is building it for us. We will place the cage into the back of his van, and I will enter the 4x4x6 cage (giving me enough room to sit up, lie down, and stretch my arms and legs outside the cage if necessary).
Once inside, the door will be closed, locked, and “welded” closed with JB Weld. It will take a few moments, but once the JB Weld cures, there will be no way to open the door, and I will be sealed inside the cage, with no way to escape, and no way for anyone to let me out. The biggest part of my personal fantasy was that my bondage be permanent and inescapable, welding the door closed ensures that I will remain inside the cage for the rest of my life.
The lock will also be sealed with JB Weld, and the keys to the lock will be tossed into the closest sewage drain grate, leaving no way to open the lock.
The trip to his house will then begin, and once we have arrived, him and his assistant will move the cage (with me inside) into his basement, where I will spend the remainder of my life as a urinal slave to him and the rest of his slaves (he has several)
The last major components of the first day will include locking a funnel gag on my head (as my primary job as a slave will be to serve as a urinal for my master, his friends, and the other slaves he owns) and fulfilling the longest running fantasy I can remember. Immediately after the cage door is welded closed, I will be restrained, and castration bands will be placed around my testicles. From that point, I will spend many hours in pain as the blood circulation is cut off from my testicles, and at such point as they are ready, my balls will be cut off.
From that moment onward, there are no specific plans, but everything will be in place for me to spend the rest of my life as the household toilet. From that moment on, “Toilet” is the only name I will ever know again.
His other slaves will ensure that I am fed, and that whatever personal needs I have, including removal of my personal waste and cleanliness are handled, but only so much as necessary to ensure health and safety are maintained.
It is understood by all involved that, because I will remain in the cage for the rest of my life, that there is the realistic situation that, at some point, I will die inside that cage. No one involved has any sort of desire for this inevitable end of life to come soon, so proper health and safety arrangements must be made so that, with any luck, that we can enjoy this arrangement for at least the next 30-50 years.
Throughout this process, I had what some people considered unrealistic expectations, most importantly being that should something happen where my master was unwilling or unable to continue to keep me as a slave (such as him becoming incapacitated in a car accident) that there was a plan for me to at least be safe, but hopefully continue my slavery with another person that he trusts. Those arrangements have been made, and there are back up plans should those fall through, so, I can feel confident that when I wrap up my current life (job, apartment, etc) that I am doing so with the reasonable expectation that once I enter the cage, and the door is welded closed behind me, that I do not need to fear a situation where my master becomes incapacitated and I end up starving to death.
I feel very confident I’m making the right decision, after literally screening thousands of interested people. I still have two major fears however…
First, I am afraid of getting cold feet. I am 100% certain that this is what I want, and that I will be happy with the end result, it’s a big change from my current “normal” life of having a job and making my own decisions. Part of the reason I’m posting this online is taking ownership of that fear, with the hope that if needed, others can reassure me that it will be OK
Second, I know that, once inside the cage, that, as mentioned above, it will be a major change. Again, I know that this is the right thing, but it will take time for me to change my thinking and state of mind. I’m a bit scared of going through that process, but I know that I will make it through, and not just because I won’t have a choice.
I’m excited and nervous about entering this next stage in my life, and I can only hope it will be as rewarding as I think it will be.
I had always hoped that I could find a permanent piss slave existence, and I believe that having a collar and cuffs welded on so I can be restrained, as well as being welded inside a cage so it is impossible to open from the inside or the outside is the best way to ensure that I will truly be able to fulfill my fantasy of becoming a sex slave for life.
Originally posted on https://statdig.com