I awake with a jolt when several intruders invade my bedroom and pin me to my bed.
The blankets are taken off me, and my underwear is pulled down. Someone has me in a head lock, others have my arms pinned, and yet more have my spread legs securely immobilized.
My ball bag is squeezed by a merciless hand and yanked violently down toward my thighs. I feel as though my testicles will be pulled right off my body because my scrotum cannot be stretched any more. My balls instinctively attempt to find refuge in my lower abdomen but they are held captive by the intruders.
All I can see are the shadowed forms of my assailants in the soft glow of a nightlight plugged into the wall near my bed. I count at least a half-dozen of them.
I feel the cold sharpness of a knife blade press against my scrotum and I discern a sawing motion there as my nut sack yields to the blade without resistance. And suddenly I realize that I am about to be castrated right there in my bed! I squirm and attempt to wrestle free, but I am held firm. I cannot stop what is about to happen. I surrender to the inevitable: I am going to be emasculated!
The one at my head hisses fiendishly, “You know what this is about, don’t you?”
Of course I knew. I had been warned that if I ever went public with the details of my brief same-sex affair with a male celebrity, I would be compelled to surrender my balls as payment for my disclosure. I knew the eventuality of this, but I never actually dreamed it would really happen!
But here I was, legs spread, naked, my genitals exposed, vulnerable and unprotected, and my balls about to be excised from my crotch. It was really going to happen! I was really going to lose my balls! My testicles were actually going to be taken!
As I contemplate my impending castration, my mind frantically mulls over the events leading up to this moment…
I met Armando “Marty” Martinez (his stage name) when I, as a cable repairman, was summoned to his home to run a diagnostic check on all his cable junction boxes.
It was the last service call of the day. Marty answered the door in his bathrobe and explained that he was about to take a shower when I knocked.
When it was obvious to Marty by the look on my face that I was trying to place his familiarity in my mind, he grinned and said calmly, “I know, you think you’ve met me before. I was on that TV show back in the 90s. You’probably seen me on TV.”
Of course! That’s why he looked so familiar. Truth be known, I had a crush on Marty when I watched that show. I’m sure that I, along with many a female teeny-bopper, fantasized about being with him naked.
He showed me where the junction boxes were; living room, dining area, and bedroom, and then hit the shower.
I quickly ruled out any problems in the two junctions boxes in the front rooms, and so focused on the one in Marty’s bedroom.
Once there, however, I gaped shamelessly at Marty’s beautiful nakedness in that shower! He had not bothered to close the bathroom door, and was on full lustful display in my line of sight where I worked on the junction box. It’s as though Marty wanted to be seen.
I chose to pursue this career because it seemed the macho thing to do. You see, I am a closeted queer scared to death that my homosexuality will become known to others, and I pump iron, keep in shape, and talk about my exploits with women so that no one will know my secret sexual identity or compulsions. But when afforded the opportunity to look at men or check out the guys, I can’t help myself. I give in to my lusts and unrestrained fantasies every time.
I am also attracted to women, but my most powerful urges and desires are for men. And so when I caught furtive glances at Marty’s nakedness, I was captivated in a way difficult to describe! Not only was he a great looking guy, he was famous!
I surveyed his olive-toned skin. I lusted over his genital region remarkable for its thick black pubic hair, uncircumcised penis and dangling nut sack. When Marty turned toward the shower head to rinse off, his backside was in full erotic display for me. I became fixated on his butt, the sensuality of his crack, his strong leg muscles and his chiseled back muscles. He kept in shape; beautiful statuesque shape!
I fumbled with my tools as I shot glances at him in that shower.I don’t recall now if I even fixed the problem with the cable I was so obsessed and distracted by his nakedness.
Occasionally, we made eye contact, and Marty smiled. Even though I was embarrassed to be caught looking at him, I was drawn to him and that smile I’d seen a dozen times on that TV show.
After his shower, he wrapped a towel around his loins and offered me a drink. I declined, telling him I was on call and couldn’t risk a DUI. He then offered me a soft drink, which I accepted.
As we talked in the dining area where the bar was, he kept fidgeting with that towel. Occasionally it slipped down a little and I caught a glimpse of a cheek, or a small bit of pubic hair. He even once pulled it all the way off and re-wrapped himself with it, giving me a full view of his beautiful naked body.
He told me that after the show was canceled he cut a few albums, and did bit roles in some movies, and was lately highlighting a midnight show in Las Vegas. He was 38-years-old, two years my senior.
I have to admit that I enjoyed being in the presence of this famous guy and didn’t really want to leave. He seemed interested in knowing about me, and asked questions about my job, my family, and future plans.
After about 45 minutes, he looked me square in the eyes and asked, “Did you like what you saw in the shower?”
I was floored! Damn straight I liked it! But I sheepishly looked down and barely muttered, “Yes.”
He stood up and let the towel fall to the floor. He sat next to me on the sofa and began unzipping my pants. Within seconds I was as naked as he was! Even though I was reveling in what was happening, heady that this was a famous celebrity, and eager for what was going to happen next, I was aware that I had worked all day, and that I didn’t smell very good. I mentioned it to him.
“Not at all,” Marty responded. “I sometimes enjoy the male scent of a working man: his musky under arm aroma, the faint fragrance of his sweat, and the unabashed smell of his crotch.”
So there it was: I was being hit on by a famous celebrity! And I was enjoying it to the hilt!
We soon ended up in Marty’s bed where he was brutal and aggressive in his seduction. While I enjoyed sucking his penis and caressing his masculine features, Marty seemed more interested in using me as a sexual plaything. He pounded his erect cock into my anus, stabbed my butt hole with his finger, and forced his aroused penis into my mouth so far I thought the back of my throat would be pierced by it. While he penetrated my eager anus, I feared his thrusting would rupture my rectum and my prostate. I attempted a time or two to resist, but Marty became more aggressive.
So I relented and allowed this man to have his way with me. While I was alarmed and shocked a few times at his muscular mastery over me, I also wanted him in the worst way. Not only was I being fucked by a famous man whom I had lusted over a decade and a half ago, this was my first same sex encounter!
Yet when we tangled in those bed sheets and worked up a sex-saturated sweat, Marty seemed to be performing to an unseen audience, and some of the things he said were not directed toward me as much as to an anonymous personality not there in the room with us. It occurred to me then that he had put something in his drink to enhance his libido and his energy.
When I was able to be dominant, I wanted to discover his anus. Common folks like me are always curious about the rich and famous: do they have pee holes and butt holes? Do they piss and shit? Do they react like normal, regular folks?
I had him on his belly sprawled out on the bed. I gently parted his to-die-for cheeks, and exposed his secret little puckered anal slit. Its circular shaped was brownish in color. I was overcome with lust and slid my finger in. He groaned in pleasure so I removed my finger and stimulated his famous anus with my tongue. Marty groaned again, more appreciatively.
I then wanted to satisfy another curiosity: I wanted to have this famous man’s aroused penis in my mouth again. I wanted to suck his nuts dry. I wanted to comb his pubes with my teeth. Marty climaxed powerfully in my mouth without warning. He pumped spurt after spurt of sperm into my mouth and onto my tongue. While my mouth eagerly accepted his cum, I was somewhat repulsed by the salty, slippery texture of his sperm. Even while the taste and warm feel was objectionable, I tried to savor it and then I swallowed it because I wanted to see what a famous person’s cum tasted and felt like. It burned my throat as it slid down into my belly. I resisted the compulsion to spit due to the after taste of his sperm because he was famous and I wanted to experience every aspect of this.
Finally, Marty was ready for my climax. But instead of masturbating me, or offering me his anus, his grabbed my nut sack and squeezed it tight, telling me, “You’d better enjoy your last cum because once you’re through squirting, I’m going to cut your balls off!”
He had me get on my hands and knees again, and yanked my balls back so far I knew he’d be able to stuff them up my asshole. So there I was, my butt facing Marty, my balls pulled tight in his hands, facelessly being compelled to cum so that he could cut my balls off! And yet, there was a thrill and excitement to this moment I have a hard time describing. My balls were at his mercy. He was threatening to castrate me once I climaxed. I was naked, my butt hole was exposed before him, and my hard cock was dangling between my legs. I looked up and saw our reflection in the mirror. What a rush! He was kneeling behind me taking possession of my testicles, threatening me with their removal, warning me to enjoy it because it was my last, and I did not want to stop it, full well knowing what he was threatening to do!
“If you don’t cum now, you never will,” he said warningly. I reached down and took firm hold of my penis. I began stroking it. At that moment, Marty slid his finger into my anus and began poking my prostate. Between the pleasurable sensations on my penis, the violating naughtiness of my anus being penetrated, and the menacing finality of Marty’s strong grasp on my squeezed testicles, I shot a powerful and prolonged stream of sperm all over Marty’s bed sheets. I pumped and pumped and pumped while Marty encouraged me with, “That’s right, give it all to me. Empty yourself. Pump your nuts dry. I have your balls in my hand and while you are having a climax right now, I hold in my hand all your future orgasms.”
I shot until I was sure I was dry, and then collapsed on the bed. Marty turned lose of my balls and slowly removed his finger from my anus. I shot another spurt or two of cum as he did.
I showered before I left that evening. But Marty had me sign some form he said protected him from “kiss and tell” lovers who exploited him and then made money on revealing details of his private life. I signed the form without reading it because I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell anyone I had a queer encounter with an actor! Not even my parents knew I was a gay man.
Thus began an affair that lasted for several weeks. During our sex times, Marty became more and more verbal about castrating me, a threat I found curiously exciting and exhilarating. I can’t explain it, but when Marty yanked my balls as far away from my body as my scrotum would allow, and then announced passionately that my balls were his and were free for the taking, I became powerfully aroused and desirous of the extreme nakedness and exposure these utterances invoked in me!
I harbored a deep desire for Marty to take my testicles and keep them. The thought of being castrated at the height of an orgasm was powerfully arousing! Losing them at the precise moment of my most prolific ejaculations make me feel so naked and exposed, I dripped precum from my pee hole even when Marty wasn’t around.
As our sex play evolved, Marty revealed to me his own castration compulsions. He demanded that I bite his balls as hard as I could prior to his orgasm. He ordered me to suck his nuts right out of his sack! He said he would slice my nuts off if I didn’t bite his off! Such talk was so erotic and abruptly sensual, I just couldn’t get naked enough to satisfy my lusts. I enjoyed such encounters immensely. But yet, when we were sexing together, Marty just seemed to use me for his jollies and I never felt that my affection for him was requited. I had feelings for him that I didn’t think were mutual. It just seemed that I was a boy toy for him. Yet I couldn’t stop my descent.
I asked him once what he’d do with my testicles if he ever took them.
“I’d mount them on a plaque and openly display them as a warning to future lovers who are tempted to ‘kiss and tell,'” he said.
He insisted that I stay at his house full-time. He wanted me to remain completely naked 24/7, and be ready and available for his sexual needs at a moment’s notice.
Before long, I was beginning to see why famous people were so much different than us regular folks: they didn’t have to punch a time card and occupy their waking hours with the duties of keeping body and soul together. Marty’s demands on my life, my time, my anus and my mouth, began to interfere with my job.
I was soon fired for calling off so many times, and as my bills piled up and my rent was overdue, I became desperate.
My desperation was only met with more aloofness from Marty, who took a “wham-bam-thank-you-man” stance with me. When it became clear that I could not keep up with his sexual compulsions, Marty kicked me out of his house and told me not to return. I was barely able to get some clothes on my back before being shown the door.
Unemployed, hungry, pissed off, and resentful that I had been used and abused, I decided I was going to retaliate. But how? Then I remembered Marty’s “kiss and tell” fear. I called a tabloid newspaper and negotiated an exclusive story that netted me several thousand dollars. In the story I related how Marty had seduced me, was a flaming homo, enjoyed castration play, and was into some BDSM as well.
Yet, Marty’s career potential only escalated from that point on. He was a guest on talk shows, nailed down another recording contract, and was cast for an upcoming new movie that was sure to be a box office success. And in the days subsequent to the tabloid’s appearance in the supermarkets, I was struck with the fact that scandal only seemed to enhance a famous person’s career! That’s another way celebrities are different than the rest of us. Things that would normally obliterate us were the very things that elevated the famous into stellar heights!
I finally had to take a job as a waiter in a nice restaurant, and tried to put my experiences with Armando “Marty” Martinez (stage name) behind me.
Several more weeks passed before the midnight visitation by armed assailants.
As the blade begins its brief journey through my scrotum I relive all these events and come to understand that that form I signed in Marty’s house gave my consent to my castration. I realize that Marty is really going to take possession of my testicles and be the owner of all my future orgasms as my masculine orbs are removed from my crotch.
Sweat breaks out on my forehead as my breathing becomes labored. I mumble through my attackers’ hands to please halt. He removes his hand from my mouth. Knowing there was no persuading these intruders to abort their mission of castrating me and delivering my balls to Marty, I say in manic desperation,
“As long as you’re going to cut my balls off, would you please allow me to cum one last time?”
In the darkness of my room, I discern that the intruders are looking at each other and wordlessly considering my request.
“What harm would it do?” Says one. I see in the soft darkness another one nod his head. They still keep my legs pinned to the bed, but one of them frees my right arm.
“Okay, you’ve got five minutes, but we’re going to keep the knife at your balls and if you don’t cum within that deadline, we’re just going to slice them off and you’ll be denied your last cum!”
I frantically and feverishly begin working my soft penis over. It doesn’t respond. In my fear and panic, I worry that I’ll be denied my final orgasm out of the shear horror of my impending emasculation.
I hear the impatient sighs and breathing of my captors. Two minutes pass and I’m not even hard yet!
“Could you help me?” I ask plaintively.
“What?” says one of them.
“Could you insert your finger into my anus and stimulate my prostate? I think I might be able to get this over with quicker if you do.”
One of them jokes, “Can you believe this guy? He’s about to be nutted and he begs us to help him get off one last time!”
I am so desperate and desirous of one last cum that I am reduced to begging my cutters to help me cum before they nut me! I am driven by not only a compulsion to shoot my final load, but to request that my castrators help me with my final shoot! And I am perfectly willing to wank right in front of them and have my sperm eruption be a public event!
Yet even in my disbelief, I am enormously aroused when one of them pushes his finger into my anal hole all the way to the knuckle. My penis leaps a little. I envision that the finger is Marty’s aroused cock seeking a rectal orgasm and my penis grows again. My assailant probes my butt hole and pumps my prostate. My anal ring tightens around his finger and I’m able to wrap my hand around my hardening penis.
I wank for all I’m worth as the clock ticks towards my impending castration. I relive some of the sex encounters with Marty, and his castration play and threats. I recollect his beautiful nakedness, his pulsating penis and spurting sperm. I savor the memory of his lovely puckered, wrinkled anus and the taste, aroma and feel of his butt hole as I tongue him out. I feverishly stroke my fully-hard penis now as I reflect on Marty’s threats to deball me as he yanks my balls as far from my crotch as my stretched scrotum will allow. My butt cheeks are exposed and have been invaded by my assailants. I am as naked now as I’ve ever been. I am strangely enjoying this ordeal having accepted its inevitability.
Just as I’m about to erupt in a seismic orgasm, I feel the knife begin to work again, its sharpness slicing through my soft scrotum, my-soon-to-be-excised testicles at the mercy of the blade. My anus compresses around the finger of my nutter tighter than its ever been. My mind becomes blurred with orgasmic, hypnotic ecstasy. The knife continues my emasculation. My hand works my penis more feverishly now. Deep in my bowels I sense the combination of anal penetration and prostate pounding as my sperm convulsively makes its way from deep within me to my throbbing cock.
I feel the blade about half way through my ball bag as my first spurt of sperm shoots out about a foot in the air and lands on my belly. My cutter pulls on my scrotum harder and I feel as though my balls will be pulled off before they’re cut off. A second and then third voluminous sea of sperm erupts from my penis. My senses are heightened. My breathing sporadic. My eyes become glazed over as the inevitability of my orgasm gushes forth with a torrential flow of cum, simultaneously aware that my balls are being cut from my body at that precise moment!
The severing is complete.
I am all climaxed out now. My balls are held up by my cutter and I see my nut sack and its precious masculine contents in the soft glow of the nightlight. I have been rendered nutless. I am not the man I used to be. I am a eunuch now!
As I contemplate my emasculation, I fully relax my body in an after-orgasm let down. The man’s finger is slowly removed from my butt and the sensations of anal violation prompt me to squirt another small drop of cum. It dribbles from the tip of my softening penis, and streams down my fist which is still wrapped around my male member. The sperm on my belly begins to cool.
Now that I’m unmanned, I’m not a threat to my assailants. They turn loose of me and I sink down deeply in my bed, my hand still holding my penis.
A towel is placed at my crotch to staunch the flow of blood. I am still breathing heavily as I watch my assailants place my severed testicles in a sandwich bag.
“The boss will want to see them,” one of them mutters.
They all exit my room as I lay panting on my bed. I look down at my chest and belly and in the soft glow of the nightlight, I see the glistening globs of my final orgasm pooled there. I have no balls any more, hence I’ll have no more sperm, no more sexual urges, and no more obsessions. But then, it was my obsessions that got me into this predicament, I realize.
Nutless and naked, I contemplate whether getting my rocks off with a celebrity was worth getting my rocks cut off. I conclude that it wasn’t. But the ride I was on that ultimately resulted in my testicles being taken was such a rush, I know I’ll relive the pleasures, the pain, the erotica, and the recollections of it for the rest of my life!
Now that my testicles have been taken, memories are all I’ll have left!
I rise gently from my bed, and dial 9-1-1, remembering what Marty said he’d do with my testicles if he had to take them: mount them on a plaque in his home to display for future lovers who may be tempted to “kiss and tell.”
Castrated. Damn…hard to believe, but it happened, sure as shit it did, and I’ll never forget that slice of the knife as long as I live. Nope, that is imbedded in my brain like it was yesterday.
It all started over a girl, like a lot of things I suppose. My girl. The boy’s name was Dakota Jennings, and he went after my girl and she fell for the bastard and I don’t know why. But after she dumped me, I was mad as hell, and when you are mad and a horny teenager and missing the senor prom because some jerkwad has stolen your girl then sometimes you do what has to be done.
Now, I wasn’t stupid. I knew enough for example not to try to capture the bastard by myself, because he was one hell of a strong kid and I sure as hell knew enough to know that. He was a swimmer, with that perfect body of a developing adolescent and the real truth was that I envied him. He was a jock, plain and simple, while I was a lanky 130 pound 18 year old with a pencil dick. I had acne too; not too extreme I suppose but still there non-the-less, and I grew my hair long and it covered my ears. Dakota on the other hand had that clean cut short hair all American look that pissed me off, and which the girls seemed to craze. He had perfect blue eyes and a perfect orthodontic smile and a set of six-pac abs, and along with all that he had perfect grades, and I hated him.
He and I had shared a senior gym class, where the jock ruled and I was the laughing stock, and while I hated every minute he seemed to relish it. One thing I knew from that class was that he was hung too, at least in the balls department, and I had seen him in gym enough times to know the kid had a big set of bullocks. Huge would be a better description! God, when he pulled off his jock after sweating through class they literally swung between his legs, like two big plumbs ripe for the picking! I think it was the fact he was so proud of them, and also because of the way they seemed to emphasize his manliness, that I decided to take them. I knew enough to know that once he’d lost is balls his interest in Linda would dry up in a hurry, and from my way of thinking, she’d come back to me once I turned her new boyfriend into a eunuch.
I knew why she had taken a liking to him. Hell, all the girls liked him. And next to Dakota I looked like a boy. For one thing, I was rail thin, and I didn’t have much in the way of the muscle department. I tried to compensate by going over to the EMO look, with my jet black hair and deep brown eyes. I had a tongue piercing, and two earrings in one ear, and I was looking at tats and hoping to get one in the near future. I had been in trouble a few times with the law, did some drugs and got caught at it, and also had ripped off a few homes that only Linda knew about. So, I guess I was a kid going nowhere, while he on the other hand was heading for college and an oh-so-perfect future upper-class life.
It was all so unfair! And, it even went so far as sexual development. At 18 I had two little patches of black hair under each armpit, and another small little patch above my five inch dick, but other than that I was as smooth as a ten year old. My legs were for the most part devoid of hair as well, and there wasn’t even a thin line between my navel and my dick. My chest was totally smooth, and my flat stomach didn’t have a sign of muscle. Shit—to be a senior in high school with a little boy look was embarrassing as hell, and I was certainly humiliated by the way my body was turning out. It didn’t help my balls were small, at least they were next to most of the guys in gym class, and of course I got laughed at regularly. Dakota was a jock, a man in every since of the word, with a big cock and a massive set of nuts and that oh-so-perfect body all guys wish they had. Then, he took my girl, and after that at night I would jerk off my thin cock to the thought of castrating Dakota, and I’d shoot my watery load onto my chest to the fantasy of stealing his nuts. It slowly became an obsession, and I worked out the details, and I was living for the day when I would cut off his nuts and make him envy my balls, as unimpressive as they were.
My plan wasn’t very sophisticated, but from my perspective it didn’t have to be, and I put it in place shortly after the school year had ended. I knew Dakota worked at a burger joint after school, trying to earn money for college, and it didn’t take much to figure out when he worked and more importantly when he got off. I set it up for a Saturday afternoon, as his shift ended, and paid off three guys to get him tied down for me. I didn’t tell them I was gonna castrate the fuckwad, no, I didn’t tell them that. I just told them I wanted to teach him a lesson, to whip his ass with a belt, and I needed him tied down and helpless so I could do it to him. I knew the kids from a YMCA camp my parents had made me go to the previous summer, which had been attended by a few inner city kids that I had gotten to know. They thought it was funny as hell, and for $20 each they grabbed him after he left work and dragged his ass out to the edge of town, at a place we all just called “the pit.” It was next to a catfish pond, and there was a junkyard of sorts there, which included a number of worn out washers, dryers, and even a couple of old refrigerators. The place was abandoned, except on occasion a guy would take his girl there to park, or to smoke some weed. But for the most part nobody went there, and I knew on a Saturday afternoon it would almost certainly be unattended.
After they had kidnapped him, they drove back into town and gave me a call, and I left immediately and drove right out to the spot where they had left him planning to do the deed. When I arrived they had tied the nineteen year old jock over an oven that somebody had tossed in the dump, so his two ankles were tied to the front legs and he was bent over it, his arms tied to the oven door handle on the other side. He was already naked when I got there, his big bullocks, heated by the sun, hanging down towards his knees and swinging as he struggled. To me, they were just hanging there waiting, waiting for me and the knife. I had brought my Gerber just for the purpose, and it was razor sharp and I knew his balls would be no match for the steel. I wore a stocking cap I had, with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth, and I knew that with it on he would not be able to identify me. As I walked up to him, and he tuned and saw me, initially he started to beg me to untie him. But then he took in the mask I was wearing, and at that point he was smart enough to know that letting him go wasn’t in the plan. I saw his eyes go really wide then and that’s when he went crazy and jerked against every rope that held him.
I looked at his pile of clothes, and decided to go through his pockets. For one thing, taking his cash I figured would perhaps make the authorities think a robbery had been the main intention, but as luck would have it there was less than twenty bucks in his billfold. There was a nice picture of Linda thought, and in his right side pocket of his jeans was a lubricated rubber, and on the package it said: “Ribbed for Her Pleasure.” Right then that’s when I got the idea to fuck him. I had never fucked a guy in my entire life, never wanted to for that matter, but as I saw him bent over and his legs spread, his hole seemed to wink at me. I hadn’t fucked anything but my five-fingered friend for more than two months, ever since my girlfriend had dumped me for the jock now tied before me, and suddenly his hole looked inviting in a way I can’t really describe. I know for certain my dick went rock hard, and I figured it wouldn’t take that long and I’d enjoy nutting him a lot more after I had fucked his hole and shot my wad as I emptied my balls.
I took out the rubber, and when he saw it in my hand he went crazy then, and was jerking and straining so hard every muscle in his perfect body was pulling against the ropes that were spreading him wide and forcing him to open his hole as if he was begging for it. He started screaming for help, and I knew right then it was well past time to shut him up.
I picked up one of his socks, which was in the pile next to his jeans, and stuffed it into his mouth, and then took some duck tape I had brought and finished the gag. While I didn’t mind him grunting, and I actually enjoyed listening to him, I just didn’t’ seem to think that letting him yell out was all that good of an idea, even though I knew that nobody was around that could hear him. Still, once he was gagged, I was a lot happier. After I had him so he couldn’t yell, that’s when I pulled down my own pants to my knees, and then rolled the ribbed condom over my rock hard dick that was jutting up at the sky. I didn’t really need the condom, but I didn’t think it was too wise to leave a load of sperm in his ass that some enterprising police office might trace to me. Anyway, as soon as I had rolled the rubber on my dick, I moved up against him and prepared to mount him like a whore.
He went even more ballistic, and started thrashing back and forth, and I could see his powerful thighs tense up as he struggled to pinch close his hole and to protect the entrance to his bowels. The condom was lubed, but even so I spit on my latex covered dick to add some more, and then I pushed my dick up against his hole, and then, as I felt the lips of his ass accommodate the head of my teenage dick, I pushed forward and leaned into him. With a slight bit of pressure, I went all the way in then, with a single thrust, until my erection was buried to the hilt and my small bag of nuts were up against his ass.
He tossed his head back and grunted in shame, and that’s when I smiled and started to fuck him. Each thrust slammed into his prostate, and that made him grunt, and the ribbed condom really stimulated his hole and I could tell he didn’t like it. I hadn’t said anything to him, nothing at all, and he had no idea who was fucking him, or even why. Still, I fucked him, and I savored every single second I was pounding his hole. He grunted and struggled and jerked and tried to twist, but no matter what he did it made no difference. I loved feeling his struggles, and that only made me increase my thrusting, and soon I was slamming my cock in and out of his ass, and I wanted to laugh as he took it like a woman. His hole was tight, very tight, and his body temperature warmed my pole almost exactly like a woman’s pussy. He was a hot fuck, yes he was, and I fucked him like he was my girlfriend, fast and deep, and soon my balls were churning and I knew I was going to shoot my wad.
I would have loved to fuck him for a long time, but I didn’t want to put off his castration any longer than necessary, and I wasn’t trying to make him feel good either. That said, I did slow down though, just before I shot, long enough to take out my Gerber so he could see what I was gonna use to nut him. I laid the open knife right on top of the oven he was tied over, so he could see it there. As he took in the knife, and the razor sharp blade, I started to thrust my cock deep into him again, slamming into him hard enough to rock the oven he was tied to. He was grunting again, right away, and so was I, and then as my balls started to churn again and I prepared to shoot my wad, I whispered into his ear, working hard to disguise my voice as I did so.
As he stared at my knife I said: “You feel my cock? I’m gonna fill you with my sperm, and then I’m gonna use the knife and castrate you. Get ready, cause you can kiss your big balls goodbye. Here comes my wad, right NOW!”
As I said those words I was probably less than a second from ejaculating, and that’s when the oven door came off.
I never saw it coming. One second I was fucking him and about to cum, and he was struggling and grunting as my cock slammed in and out of his hole, and the next he had literally jerked the old oven door completely off of its frame, tearing out the rusted hinges with the power of his desperation. I suppose that the combination of fear of being castrated, along with the humiliation of being fucked, just joined together to give him the strength necessary to tear that oven door off of those hinges.
What I know for certain was that he jerked that oven door straight up, over his head, and since his wrists were still tied to its handle it was almost like it was an extension of his arms. He tossed the big thing right over his head, and it came down and slammed right into the back of my head, hitting me so hard I almost passed out. I staggered, and fell back and as I did my cock popped out of him, and I landed on my ass on the ground. I had no idea what really had happened. I started to get up, and was up on one knee and about to stand when he swung his torso, slamming the entire oven door sideways this time, so that the big steel door struck me right across the left cheek. There was this blinding pain that shot through my jaw, and I hit the ground, hard, the entire sky spinning as I crumpled from the intensity of the blow.
I do not know exactly what happened next, not precisely anyway, but I remember everything was blurred. He managed to get to the knife that was still laying where I had laid it out, right in front of him, and soon he had cut himself free from the ropes that had tied him. I know I saw him doing that, from a somewhat dazed point of view, and I know that I rolled over on my stomach and tried to crawl away from him. I was bleeding out of my mouth, and I noticed when I spit that a couple of teeth had been knocked out of me. The left side of my face was numb, and it was pretty clear that the oven door had done a number on my face. I was desperate to get away, but he picked up that oven door one more time then and slammed it into me, hitting me with it flat on my back right about where my shoulders were. I crumpled like a rag doll then. Still, I never passed out, but I sure as hell was stunned, and as far as being able to fight him that was never in the cards. From the first hit of the oven door, I was at his mercy.
He jumped on my back then, and pulled my two wrists back, behind me, and then he tied them together, so damn tight I thought he was gonna cut the circulation off. Then, after he had done that, he rolled me over, so I was on my back and looking right up at the sky. My jeans and underpants were still at my knees, where I had pulled them down to fuck him, and my cock was still covered with his condom, although my erection had for the most part disappeared at that point. He sat right on top of me, on my thighs, straddling me, and that’s when he ripped off his gag and spit out the socks I had forced in his mouth. Then, he reached down and pulled my hooded stocking cap off of my face.
As he took in who I was he said “FUCK! FUCK ME! YOU! OH FUCK MAN, YOU ARE DEAD MEAT! DEAD! YOU HERE ME! YOU ARE A FUCKING DEAD MAN TANNER! YOU FUCKED ME! YOU FUCKED ME! GOD DAMN! YOU WERE GONNA CASTRATE ME TOO!!! OH MAN…TANNER, FUCK. FUCK YOU! WELL TANNER—ILL TELL YOU ONE THING. YOUR FUCKING BALLS ARE HISTORY! HISTORY!”
I tried to beg him, to tell him I was sorry, but my mouth wasn’t working and as it turned out later my jaw had been broken. I could taste the blood in my mouth, and as I stared at him and he looked at me he suddenly jerked my pants down, and off, and then he pulled my legs apart and lifted me up, by my thighs, so that he was under me, he on his knees and my legs straddling him. I looked down and saw his cock then, and it was up and eager and juttig. A few seconds later I felt it, as he pulled me down onto it. I tried to beg, and tired to move, but the reality was there wasn’t much I could do and I was still in so much shock from getting hit with that oven door that I was definitely not at my best form. The next thing I knew his dick was in me. I had never seen him with a boner before, and his cock was big, really big, and I did not think it was possible to slide his massive erection it into me. But I was wrong. But when he shoved his fat cock into my hole it literally brought tears to my eyes and I felt like it was splitting open my hole. Fuck it hurt! No! Suddenly, the roles had been reversed, and the fuckee was now the fucker, and I was the whore! NO!
There was nothing I could do at that point, nothing at all, but grunt and stare into his eyes as he fucked me. We faced each other, and I felt him impaling me, ramming his huge cock in and out of my ultra tight virgin hole with a vengeance. He used no lube at all, and it hurt like hell, but even so after a while I felt this strange feeling, the way his cock was ramming into my prostate, and my dick went rock hard and was soon jutting, even as he slammed his own cock in and out of my hole. When I got hard he reached down to my dick and pulled off the rubber, so my cock was jutting up at the sky, the big purple end of it round and full, the single eye dripping with precum. My hands were tied tight beneath me, and all I could do was stare at him and my stiff cock as he fucked me like a girl. At some point as hard as it is to believe my nuts started to churn, and I don’t know why, and then a few minutes later I started to shoot my cream and it all came out in white ropes of sperm, squirting in lines up my stomach and onto my flat chest. The first shot of my sperm hit my chin. I came and came and came, and in hindsight it was probably the biggest load of my life. All total, I think I shot about 5 lines of cream, emptying my balls as his cock forced it from me. At some point while I was cumming he too ejaculated, his entire wad of hot seed jetting into my hole, splashing up against my prostate and filling me with his load of seed. I could feel his hot load shooting into me, and it was my worst nightmare, and as I lived through the feeling it was so humiliating it cannot be described.
It was then, after he had cum, and my own wad was splashed on my stomach, that he reached up with my knife in his right hand, and grabbed my balls with his left. He was still rock hard, still imbedded in my hole, and he had a grin on his face then like a schoolboy. I managed to get out a “NO!” as he laid the steel blade up against my own small scrotum, and then for a second he hesitated, and time seemed to stand still. Then, he laughed, and I tried to beg him, but I couldn’t really talk and it didn’t matter anyway. He jerked outward with his left hand, pulling my nuts out from my body and stretching them. At the same time he started to move his right wrist then, moving my knife back and forth, and as he did this tremendous pain shot through my groin and after that for the next few seconds I just lived through my own castration. He sawed my balls off with my own knife, and as it was being done I felt so weak, so humiliated, so ‘bested’ and so beaten it cannot be described. He unmanned me, literally, and it was clear when I had been done and it was over that I was nothing compared to him. The truth at that point was that he owned my girl, and my balls.
As soon as he had nutted me, he laughed, and then he started to thrust his cock in and out of my hole all over again, fucking me with a renewed intensity, almost as if the act of castrating me had reinvigorated him. He was rock hard, and his big rod impaled me, and I cold feel the head of his cock sliding in and out of my hole, each thrust deep and made with a vengeance. He was into it, really enjoying fucking me, and I could see the way he looked at me that he owned me. What was even more surprising I think was that he ejaculated all over again in less that a couple of minutes. The message was clear. He was a real man, a stud, and I was a nothing. Almost to emphasize that point, my own cock shriveled to a worm as he fucked me, and by the time he shot his wad and squirted his seed into me my own pole was small and unimpressive. Limp and nut-less, I felt his DNA shooting into me one more time, and at that point I was beaten and there was nothing left to fight for. As soon as he had squirted his second load of cream and deposited it deep within my ass, he picked up my severed balls and held them right up to my face, making sure I could see what I no longer owned.
That’s when he said: “Pretty small set of balls if you asked me. Well, too bad for you Tanner. You don’t deserve them. I know it. Linda knows it. And so do you.“
Then, with a toss, he threw them over the bank, so that they landed in the catfish pond. I heard them splash, and there was no doubt that my nuts were fish food at that point. That’s when he leaned down to me, his big cock still buried inside of me, and then he said: “You kidnapped me, tied me up, fucked me, and tried to castrate me. Just remember, the police can’t give you your balls back, no matter what. But if you tell the police who did this to you, everyone’s gonna know everything. I swear. Including what Linda has told me about your antics, and those houses you broke into earlier in the summer. So, I suggest you just live with it. You know what you did, and unfortunately for you, it didn’t quite go the way you had planned. Now, you better deal with it—you only have yourself to blame for getting yourself castrated.”
Then he pulled his still hard cock out with a slurping sound, and laughed. He slid on his underpants, and stuffed his big rod inside, and then pulled on his jeans after that. After he put on his shirt he rolled me over and cut the ropes off of my wrists, and then he slid his middle finger up my hole one last time. As he did he said: “Your hole was tight. Almost as tight as a virgin pussy. And one more thing. If you get horny and need a fuck, bring your hole over anytime and I’ll fuck it raw. You’re nothing but a bitch now, so get used to it.”
I wanted to cry. He pulled his finger out with a pop, and then he pocketed my Gerber, as a souvenir I suppose, and then he left me. A few minutes later I heard my truck start up, and after that he was gone. I was in pretty bad shape, but got to the highway and eventually a guy stopped and picked me up and I caught a ride home, and then from there I went to the hospital. My truck was already there, almost as if he knew I’d be going there. Still, for some reason, I didn’t feel like driving it for a while anyway.
Of the things he had said, he was right of course, and so I had to stick to the story that I had no idea who had nutted me. The doctors fixed my jaw, but they couldn’t do much to fix my missing scrotum, and while they could stitch up the cut they didn’t have a magic set of nuts to replace what I had lost. I thought about my options, and in the end I didn’t tell them I had been raped, or what had happened, or what I knew. Consequently, they never took any DNA swaps from my ass, and since I didn’t tell them all that much they didn’t look very hard for who had attacked me. They knew I knew more than I was telling them, but with my prior record and EMO look, I don’t think they really cared.
It was my fantasy come true. My Master, (we’ll call him Darren for the sake of the story), was moving back to my town and coming to live with me.
I had been ordered to clean the house from top to bottom ahead of his arrival and ensure the cupboards were well stocked with food and drink.
I had done all of this and rushed home after work on Friday evening, as he had told me that the first weekend would be dedicated to training me in ‘how it was gonna be from now on.’
I was very excited (and a little nervous) as I entered my house. He was already there, having arrived about lunchtime.
I took off my clothes at the foot of the stairs as I had been instructed and waited, facing the wall, for him to come down to me.
After a few minutes, I heard him come descend the stairs and halt behind me. Without speaking, he fitted the leather mask over my head and did it up tightly. The zips were fastened and I was suddenly in a world of darkness.
“When you come in,” he spoke at last “You will put on whatever you find at the bottom of the stairs. If there is nothing, you will be naked. Do you understand?”
“Yes Master” I replied.
He led me into the bedroom. “This is now the dungeon and my sleeping place,” He said. “Where you sleep depends on my mood.”
I was made to stand in the centre of the room while he began to tie restraints around my wrists and ankles. These were tied off to hooks above and below so that I was forced into an ‘X’ position.
Then I felt him stand close up behind me. His warm hands caressed my cold skin, gently at first. His hand moved between my legs to grasp my balls from behind and he gripped then tightly.
“This is where it begins,” he whispered. “You will never touch your cock & balls again,” he said more sharply, “Do you understand?”
“When you are out of the house, you will always be in chastity and I will have the only key. You will only be released in my presence. These are mine now.” And he flicked my balls, painfully. “They will be emptied, only when I think you deserve it. That could be daily, weekly or monthly. It depends how much you please me.”
He moved round to stand before me and grasped my nipples. I winced slightly. “These, I will have pierced. And I think it is high time you were tattooed. Not a mans tattoo like mine, but a sign of your slavery. A barcode, perhaps?”
I nodded again.
“All this hair must go.” He said, tugging at the hair under my arms and around my groin. Hair is for men. You will be smooth all over. Your head will be shaved to grade 1 each week.”
I felt him untie my wrists but he quickly re-tied them to my ankles so I was bent over. Shocked, I felt him poke a finger between my ass cheeks. “All this hair needs to go, too. Smooth ALL over.” He said, chuckling. “It gets in the way” and I felt him push something firm between my cheeks. He continued to apply pressure until it slipped inside me. It was a butt plug.
“You will wear this when around the house unless I remove it” he said. Then he stood me back up again and fitted a collar round my neck, over the hood, and a strap around my cock and balls. Working quickly, he fitted a chain which ran down my back and between my legs, connecting the two, tightly.
It had the added purpose of ensuring I could not remove the butt plug.
“You wanted to be my slave,” he said “Well this is what it means.”
It was true, I had wanted this. My stiff cock showed that, despite my humiliation at the hands of this man, I still did.
I felt a sudden sting as he brought a whip down across my bare ass cheeks.
“Now for some duties” he said.
He proceeded to outline what my tasks would be each day – and between each one, he struck me with the whip and asked me if I understood.
· To get up at 7.00am each weekday and get ready for work quietly.
· To bring him a cup of tea and a cigarette before leaving for work.
· To call him at lunchtime to seek any orders or shopping requirements for the day
· To return straight home after work (unless given permission otherwise)
· To strip off on return and wear whatever was put out for me
· To immediately seek out my Master and attend to his needs
· To cook and clean to my Master’s satisfaction before being allowed to eat
· To submit to my Master’s plans for the evening’s entertainment.
· To obey all orders without question
· To help prepare my Master for bed before I was put to bed for the night.
This last task made him laugh and he released me from my bondage and dragged me over to the bed where he said he would give me a demonstration of how to fulfil that duty.
Still hooded, I heard him unzip his jeans and felt the zip on the hood open. Immediately, he forced his solid cock into my mouth and told me to suck.
“Your last job of the day will always be to clean my cock,” he instructed. “You will worship it with your tongue and ensure it is clean. You will swallow whatever comes out of it” and as he said that, I felt his warm urine begin to flow. I began to pull away but he shouted “Drink it, bitch” and thrust deeper into my throat. I had no choice but to swallow. He kept pissing and I kept gulping, thinking I might choke or vomit at any moment. But I didn’t and eventually he finished. But my ordeal wasn’t over.
“Now show me some queer slave boy sucking” he ordered and his cock remained in my mouth. I began to work it as best I could and before long got a rhythm going.
I felt him tense and moan softly then suddenly, he exploded in my mouth, filling me with his salty cum.
“You better swallow every last drop” he said. I dared not disobey, licking his dick clean of the stuff.
“Good boy” he said. “Now for your reward.”
I was pleased at this and waited to be released. The chain was removed and my wrists and ankles freed but the butt plug remained.
He stood me up and I felt him begin to wrap me in soft bandages. First my legs then my arms then my body until only my cock and balls were left sticking out.
I must have looked quite odd but I was still hooded so couldn’t see myself.
He lay me on the bed and I felt him rub my bollocks gently. I groaned with pleasure but he stopped. I wondered why but in a few moments, I knew. He had rubbed toothpaste on them and I could feel them burning already.
I groaned again, this time in pain.
“See you later” he called and left the room. I was alone with my balls burning from toothpaste and mummified from head to toe. I couldn’t move an inch.
I waited. And I waited. Although the burning sensation eventually died away, it left my balls aching and my cock, rock-solid. The plug was still buried deep inside me and was a constant reminder of my status.
I was alone in a dark world of my own. My thoughts wandered and my imagination played tricks on me. It felt like I was being watched but I heard him moving upstairs and I knew I wasn’t. After what seemed ages, I called out “Master! Master!” But there was no reply. I desperately wanted to cum. SO desperately that I began to sob. “Please Master!” I called. But there was no-one to hear me and eventually I drifted off into a sleep of sorts.
I awoke with a warm sensation on my cock, which had softened. It was pleasant, like someone breathing on it perhaps? My balls felt like they were being tickled by something but I couldn’t tell what.
My dick instantly stiffened again. “Master?” I wasn’t sure but I guessed he must be with me and called out. He didn’t reply.
Over what seemed like the next hour my cock & balls were subjected to various sensations. Some of them were pleasant, others bordered on painful. Sometimes there was a pause of several minutes between and sometimes it went on uninterrupted. It was completely outside of my control. I could not stop it or resist – even if I wanted to. But my cock was now throbbing, so intense were the sensations.
Still he had not spoken and I began to wonder if it was him. Could I really feel anything? Could I be dreaming or imagining all of this?
“Master?” I called again but again there was no response.
I began to struggle but it was useless as I was tightly secured. I screamed out my safe word. But then I remembered – I had said there was to be no safe word from mental torture. I was utterly powerless. I felt like I would go insane from the things going on in my head at that moment. Intense pleasure mixed with intense suffering; confusion, helplessness, humiliation and desire all blended together in an intoxicating mix.
Then it stopped. Completely. Nothing happened. Minutes ticked by. My dick, still throbbing, was untouched. I hadn’t wanted it to continue – but stopping was worse.
“Please, Master,” I begged, realizing that I was almost crying. “Please finish me”.
Then I got a reply. It was a laugh, not spoken words, but it was a reply and I was overjoyed. My Master had laughed at me. Deep down, I knew he had already broken any resistance or dignity I might have had. I had become little more than a dog, craving its master’s attention.
I heard him strip off and felt him climb into bed beside me. He reached out for me but I could not respond, mummified as I was. I felt his warmth through the bandages as he held me. Felt his hand brush lightly over my cock. I couldn’t bare it any longer. “Please stop now” I said in the most manly voice I could muster.
But he laughed again. “Oh no” he said. “This is only a taste of what is to come. Or not to come,” he added laughing at his own joke and stroking my meat. “I am naked beside you” he said. I struggled and strained once more but I knew it was in vain. I could not escape.
“One more thing,” he added. “Something for you to think about before you go to sleep. You are 100% mine which means no running off to your best mate’s when he calls.” I tried to protest but his hand stroked my balls lightly. “I though about theat problem and I came up with a brilliant solution,” he went on. “I told him what I was doing with you. He knows. He understands. He is glad cos it means you wont be pestering him every two minutes. I have agreed to let you undertake jobs at his request and release you when he asks. He will help me control you. In fact, he is coming round tomorrow to see you. To see you like this.”
The words took a while to sink in.
“I told him everything and he thinks it’s what you deserve. So now you have no reason not to be here at my beck and call. Think about that, slave,” he said, “Goodnight” and with one last sharp tug of my cock, he turned over and settled down to sleep.
I awoke the next morning after a night of broken sleep and intensely sexual dreams. The first thing I realized as my mind began to focus on reality was that I had a hard-on and my balls ached from the need to be emptied. The plug was still inside me and uncomfortable when I moved.
As far as I could tell, Darren was still in the bed beside me. I felt a soft movement over my cock and groaned from the exquisite pleasure and yet suffering.
“Oh, my slave is awake is he?” he said. Before I could answer, he rolled over on top of me and undid the mouth zip on the hood I was still wearing.
I thought it was so I could speak but instantly, his semi-hard cock was in my mouth. “Suck it clean, bitch, ” he commanded. I did as I was told, savouring the smell and taste. He had been very clever really. Had I been allowed to cum by now, I would probably have not been in the mood for games first thing in the morning but so desperate was my need for relief that I would do anything at this moment.
I hoped by pleasuring him, he would reward me.
I was disappointed. A few minutes in, he withdrew his dick and redid the zip before getting up and without speaking, leaving the room. I heard him in the bathroom then I heard him upstairs.
I was left alone for some time and began to drift back to sleep, despite my discomfort, when he suddenly returned.
I was de-mummified and the hood was removed from my head. I blinked in the morning sun.
“You may remove the but plug and you have 15 mins for shit, shave, shower. Then I want you upstairs wearing this” he said, flinging the slave pouch at me. “But before I let you go, I need to put this on to make sure you don’t play with yourself.”
He produced the CB3000 chastity device which he quickly fitted and padlocked in place. My cock was now encased in a tough plastic prison and out of bounds.
“15 mins – Go!” he snapped and I dashed past him to the bathroom. He slapped my ass as I ran by.
Once alone, I was able to take care of my toiletries and freshen myself up but I couldn’t so the one thing I really wanted to do – wank!
15 mins later, I stood before him once more, wearing the slave pouch as instructed. He was sat on the sofa wearing my dressing gown and smoking. He had the Cat o’ nine tails with him.
“Very good,” he commented, looking at the clock, “Now in the kitchen and make my breakfast. I will have coffee and egg on toast. You will have bread and water.”
I nodded. “Yes Master” and set about my task.
I could hear him on his mobile phone as I worked but could not hear what was said. I wondered if his threats about Jim from last night were true but didn’t think my best mate would go along with something as cruel as that.
When I returned with a tray bearing our breakfast, he was off the phone and seemed pleased. I put the food down and he made me eat mine on the floor. After breakfast, I was made to wash the dishes as he whipped me for every fault he could find. Then I was sent down to the bathroom with orders to prepare a bath.
I did so and shortly, he joined me. He put the hood back on me and then dis-robed and climbed into the foamy waters.
“Now, slave, clean me!” he ordered. Carefully, as I could not see anything, I began to soap up his muscled body and wash him all over. If I had not been hooded, it would have been a horny experience. The fact I was hooded, made it 10 times more horny. I could feel every bulge of his muscles in my hand but could not see! Real torture beyond anything I had experienced before. My cock strained against its plastic prison.
When he was done, he ordered me to towel him down then he left me alone, temporarily, whilst he dressed.
When he returned, the hood was again removed. He had assembled various tools and it was clear I was to be shaved and trimmed as he had explained the previous night. The CB3000 was removed and my pubic and body hair was shaved along with my head whilst Immac was spread between my ass cheeks and left to do its work. Five minutes later, I was made to get into the bath – the same water he had used which was now cooler and bubbleless – and I cleaned myself off. He watched me carefully to ensure I didn’t touch my cock.
When I was done, he ordered me to stand in the bath whilst he applied baby oil all over my hairless body. The touch of his hands on my smooth skin sent my cock into overdrive and I felt I would cum from the feelings alone. But I didn’t and before we left the bathroom, he reapplied the CB3000 and hood. I was taken back into the dungeon and forced into the cage.
He locked it shut and I was left once again in the dark and unable to ease the pressure in my aching bollocks.
I again drifted off to sleep, despite being cramped and having only a single blanket to wrap myself in. My uneasy dreams were full of dark happenings and I awoke several times. At one point, I imagined Jim and Darren were stood laughing at me in my humiliation.
Then I awoke. It was not a dream. Although I couldn’t see, I could clearly hear Jim’s voice. He was here, in the room, alongside my Master.
“Get him out” I heard him say and then heard the padlock being opened.
“Out” Darren commanded. Reluctantly, I obeyed. I didn’t want to play – not in front of Jim. It was too humiliating. Too embarrassing.
I was stood before them, naked but for the chastity device on my cock and the hood over my head. I guessed this made it easier for them to look at me for they didn’t have to look into my eyes but, knowing they were seeing me like this, didn’t make the humiliation any less for me.
“What can we do with him?” Jim asked
“Anything you like” Darren replied. Then he snapped “On the bed, face up”
I was half pushed into position and quickly my wrists and ankles were secured so I was spread-eagle. The CB3000 was removed and replaced with the studded parachute. Darren explained to Jim about the tiny spikes inside then I felt pulling on it. It hurt and I winced. Jim laughed and I felt more force on it. Then I heard rattling of chains and they somehow managed to secure a constant upward pressure on it meaning my balls were continually subjected to dozens of pin-like pricks. I moaned in pain.
“What do these do?” I heard Jim ask, wondering what he was referring to. I soon found out as I felt clamps applied to each nipple, biting hard and deep. This time I yelped with the pain but that seemed to encourage them.
“Try this” I heard Darren say. I braced myself for whatever was to come.
Suddenly I felt a searing sensation on my chest, making its way down towards my navel. I cried out in the mask, guessing Darren was introducing Jim to the delights of hot candle wax on my body.
“Try it on his balls” Darren suggested.
I yelled “No!” but it was too late. The hot wax covered my balls and I screamed.
My mind was clouded with the pain but my cock, also now being coated in hot wax was harder than steel. Here I was, a worthless piece of meat, providing entertainment for two men. And why shouldn’t I? That was all I was fit for. They were men, it was their right to use me in whatever way they desired.
The pain was now intense in my balls, my nipples and from my cock.
“Want to make him really suffer? Watch this” Darren said.
I was ready to scream. I was ready to shout out my safe word, though I didn’t think it would do any good. The nipple clamps were removed and the relief was overwhelming. The studded parachute was removed. It felt amazing to have my balls free. Something cold soothed the burning sensations of the hot wax.
Why had he stopped hurting me – or was he just building up for the big one?
I tensed up and prepared for massive pain. And felt nothing, Nothing except his hand on my balls. And then on my cock. His hand, covered in baby oil. Working me. Slowly. Gently. I writhed on the bed. Fuck this was beautiful. He teased my balls, gently squeezing them in his hand. He knew I liked that.
“Ohhhh Fuckkkkk! I exclaimed, my mind on another level with so much pleasure after so much pain.
“You like that?” he asked, softly.
“Yes Master” I replied, squirming and pushing myself up off the bed toward him.
“Pleeeeaaaaasssssseeeeeee” I begged, wanting him to go harder, faster. Wanting him to let me cum. But he continued at the same slow, steady pace.
“What are you?” he asked.
I paused for a moment then replied. “I am yours, Master. Whatever you want me to be. I am your slave, your toy, your piece of meat. I will do anything for you Master, please…”
He laughed and stopped all contact with me.
“No…Master!” I begged, “PLEASE!”
“See how easy it is to control a fag” he said to Jim, who also laughed.
“Do you want our cocks?” Darren asked me and I replied instantly
I didn’t even realize I had said it until Darren pointed it out. “It seems you are now also his Master, Jim”
Jim laughed again “fuckin’ queer!” he exclaimed.
I heard Darren unzip his jeans and then heard Jim do the same on the other side of me.
“Our cocks are out” Darren said, “Here they are” and I felt something brush passed my hand on Darren’s side. Of course, my hands were tied to the bed and I couldn’t move them but it didn’t stop me straining against the bonds.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Jim, that’s massive” Darren said, laughing.
I had no way of knowing whether they really did have their dicks out or not as I was still hooded but my imagination had taken over.
“PLEASE!” I begged again.”PLEASE MASTERS! PLEASE HAVE MERCY”
”What do you want?” Darren asked. “Tell Jim and me what you want”
With no thought of my dignity, I pleaded to be allowed to suck them both off. For them to fill me with their spunk. To be fucked. To be spit-roasted. To be ridden like a bitch. To be made to satisfy their every fetish and desire.”
I was now so desperate to cum and to be used by these two men, I really would have done anything they demanded of me.
Instead, they left me to one side and both climbed onto the bed next to me. I heard various muttering and laughing and I felt a faint thud thud thud. I strained to hear, from inside my hood, what was going on.
I heard gasps and moans of pleasure and whispers of “Yeah, that’s good”
Like a bolt of lightning it hit me! They were wanking each other off! Of all the tortures I had endured today, this was surely the worst. Not just two young, fit, straight guys wanking each other off but THE two fittest guys in my life, doing it here, right next to me. And I was too well restrained to move a muscle, let alone join in and too well blindfolded to see a thing. But I could feel the bed shaking with their movements and hear their gasps of pleasure and delight. And I cried! I cried in frustration and desperation. I cried real tears and lots of them. I sobbed and yelled and struggled but they ignored me, too far gone in their own pleasure no doubt. Pleasure that should have been mine. Despite my agony, I calmed myself as I could hear from their sounds that one or both of them was getting close to cumming.
And I SO wanted to join them.
Then I heard a shout and felt warm liquid splatter across my cock and balls. I yelled out in disbelief. “PLEASE” I shouted, “PLEASE – LET ME HAVE IT!”
The first wave was quickly followed by more until my cock and balls were dripping with thick creamy straight-boy spunk. I writhed and shivered in unbelievable ecstasy but at the same time sobbed and cried in frustration.
I felt some of it being scooped up from across my balls and then the zip was opened on the mouth slit. Fingers were pushed into my mouth and greedily I sucked – on yoghurt!
I heard the two of them laughing loudly at me, no doubt finding humor in the way I had completely humiliated myself before them. Thinking it was all real, imagining them with their cocks out and wanking, I had promised them anything and everything in return for a share in their fun. I had debased myself and it had all been a big joke.
I felt utterly defeated. Worthless. Useless. Inferior. My dick now lay limp and lifeless though my balls were still swollen and aching. I didn’t deserve to cum. I had been used and abused by two straight guys and I felt broken and sub-human.
I began to cry again as they left the room, still laughing at me.
I must have cried myself to sleep because when I awoke, I was being manhandled. The restraints round my ankles and wrists were removed and I was told to stand by Darren. The hood was not removed but the eye slit was opened and I was half dragged to the toilet where I was told to do whatever I needed.
I could not see or hear Jim. I had no idea of the time or how long I had been asleep though it seemed to still be daylight.
It was difficult to use the toilet whilst being watched but I managed somehow, taking every opportunity to stretch and flex my stiff limbs and muscles.
I was then led upstairs into the lounge. Jim was there, sipping from a can of beer.
He stood up and came towards me, zipping the eyeslit shut before taking me completely by surprise by grabbing my balls sharply and squeezing them. I winced.
My cock instantly leapt to attention. I was shocked. This was the first time, to the best of my knowledge, that Jim had ever touched me in that way. He seemed to enjoy the reaction and flicked my knob, causing me to wince again and wobble slightly. I had no time to enjoy this latest development before Darren said “Cuff him, then” Almost at once, Jim yanked my arms behind my back and I felt solid steel handcuffs around my wrists. My feet were bound together, also by Jim, I guessed.
Then, what I guessed was a duvet, was wrapped around me tightly and secured with rope. This in turn was lifted – complete with me inside – into some kind of large bag or sack. I felt the top of the sack being tied and I was then hoisted into the air with some effort.
All sounds were muffled inside this new prison and I was still wearing the hood so it was extremely dark. It quickly became very warm too.
I dangled for a few moments as I heard Jim talking to Darren, he seemed to be explaining something.
Then I felt a blow to my side, cushioned by the padding surrounding me. Then another. And another. Some laughing, some talking; then another blow followed by a series on various parts of my body. I was being used as a human punch bag.
Although I was protected, some of the blows were quite hard and I felt them, even through the duvet.
I was getting hotter and sweating. Breathing was difficult and several blows had partially winded me. I didn’t know when or where the next one was going to land so I couldn’t prepare for it.
This went on for ages and despite my protests, they continued, turning the music up to drown out my cries.
Eventually, I felt myself lowered and I dropped to the floor. I was released from the duvet. They examined me for bruises, laughing at the marks on my battered body.
I was then released from the cuffs and fitted with a collar and lead around my neck. I was given the leather chastity belt to wear but Darren made an adjustment so that a long piece of string was tied around my balls first. I was then locked into the belt but he gave a sharp tug on the string, telling me that was their signal if they wanted me for anything.
I was made to crawl to the kitchen, led on the lead by Darren, and told to make them both dinner whilst they were in the study, surfing the net.
I set about the task, grateful for some time on my own where I could move my arms and legs and was not being beaten or abused.
However, my cooking was interrupted by frequent tugs on the rope as they demanded more beer, biscuits, updates on the food and various other questions I suspected they devised simply to inflict pain on my poor aching balls.
Eventually, I finished my task and brought them two large plates of tuna & pasta bake with garlic bread. They made me sit at their feet and Darren hand-fed me scraps from his plate. Jim put his on the floor when he had finished and ordered me to lick it clean.
I was quite hungry so was glad to eat, though licking from a plate on the floor like a dog was a humiliating experience. Darren gave me a couple of slices of dried bread and a glass of water and told me I had been a good boy.
I began to hope that my ordeal was almost over. After dinner, I was made to wash all the dishes and clean the kitchen – which I was left mostly in peace to do.
Then I was hauled back into the lounge, again crawling on my hands and knees, and told I was to be a footstool and coffee table for them whilst they chilled out.
Hardly daring to move, they rested their feet, and an ashtray, on my back and chatted together. It seemed they were planning to go out to the pub and were debating which one.
Eventually, they decided and I was taken back downstairs and padlocked into the cage – the end of my ordeal, I hoped. I heard them moving about up and down stairs, getting ready but they didn’t bother with me anymore.
Locked in the cage, with my cock and balls inside a leather prison and a hood over my
head, I was far from comfortable. The pressure in my balls was immense and I couldn’t help but think about all that had happened to me over the last 24 hours which gave me an instant erection.
However, they hadn’t finished with me yet! I was dragged out of the cage. My hands and feet were tightly bound and I was placed into a sack or bag – without the duvet.
I was breathing heavily, not knowing what to expect. They carried me out of the house and put me in the boot of Jim’s car. Then the boot slammed shut.
Moments later, I heard the car doors slam and the engine start. A sudden jolt and we were moving.
Jim must have decided to take the bumpiest roads he could find and drive as erratically as possible because I bumped and banged around in the boot until I began to feel quite sick. My plea’s for mercy were drowned out by his stereo system.
Clearly, they did intend to go the pub because eventually the car stopped and I heard the doors slam again. The boot was briefly opened and a finger prodded me. When I responded, Jim laughed and said “He’s still alive”. Then the boot slammed shut and I was left alone.
I was cold and scared. I couldn’t sleep but I couldn’t move, either. I waited for what seemed like an eternity before they returned to the car.
They checked on me once more before setting off. The journey back was even worse than the journey there. Maybe Jim had been drinking or maybe I was just more bruised and sensitive but I seemed to feel every lump and bump in the road.
When I was eventually lifted from the boot and returned to the house, I was very relieved. I was removed from the sack and thrown into the bed, still bound. The light was switched off and I was left alone.
Despite my bonds, I drifted off to sleep very quickly, being both emotionally and physically exhausted.
Once again, I was awoken from my sleep by movement. Once again, I had lost all track of time.
It felt like my bonds were being removed. I stretched my tired muscles as soon as I was freed. Then, the hood was removed, too. It was dark in the room but for a single candle burning.
I was aware that it was Darren who had removed my bonds. He was lay on one side of me. To my astonishment, Jim was lay the other. Both were topless. I couldn’t see what else they wore as, like me, they were beneath the duvet.
I lay still, hardly daring to breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
My heart sank as I was once again tied, spread-eagled to the bed. I wondered what torture awaited this time and I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes – when would it end?
Softly, I heard Darren whisper “Poor slaveboy. He has suffered so much today. His puny body is battered and bruised.” And he began to gently caress my outstretched arm. I tensed myself, waiting for the pain – but there was none. He continued gently massaging my arm and I felt Jim do the same on my thigh.
Yet again, my cock stiffened, still in its confinement. So this was their torture. To tease me as they had done earlier. I tried not to respond but their firm manly hands working my sore and aching muscles felt divine. Darren’s hand moved to my chest and began to gently squeeze my nipple. I waited for him to pinch but he didn’t.
Jim’s hand moved to the top of my thigh and he stroked around the leather belt.
I groaned in pleasure – despite my attempts to hold it in – and threw my head back.
“PLEASE” I begged again despite knowing they had ignored all of my begging and pleading throughout the day “Please don’t tease me, Masters. Just do what you are going to do and get it over” My voice sounded weak and pathetic.
Jim replied, “We’re not teasing. You have done really well and you deserve this reward.” And I felt him fumble with the padlock on the belt for a moment and then it clicked open. He removed the belt and my stiff cock sprang up, my two heavy balls hanging large in their sac.
Darren continued to tweak my nipples as Jim’s hand grew ever closer to my balls. As he touched them, I arched my body in ecstasy. Darren had chosen that same moment to bite my neck – not to inflict pain but maximum pleasure. I felt my cock shoot out great strings of hot gushing semen. I didn’t want to cum so soon but my body was under their control. I yelled out “Oh Fuck! Oh God!” as I pumped out more and more of the sticky white substance, drenching myself in it. My body spasmed as waves of intense pleasure shot through me.
I think they were impressed at themselves and the effect they had on me. I was disappointed. I felt robbed of what could have been a much longer and more pleasurable experience.
I lay on the bed, shuddering for a moment until Darren grabbed a towel and cleaned me up. I was still tied and couldn’t move.
“Do queers always cum that easy?” Jim asked. I shook my head. “No Master” It seemed odd to call him Master but after what I had been through, I knew I would never be able to think of either of them as equals again. They had broken me and made me theirs.
I lay, looking at Darren, waiting for further instructions. To my great surprise (and pleasure), they picked up where they had left off. Darren began running his hand over my chest while Jim fondled my balls, no longer swollen or aching.
My cock lay to one side, at rest, but I felt it begin to stir again. I lay back, savoring the moment. All the pain and all the suffering had been worth it for this. The two most important guys in my world, the two who now owned me, were pleasuring me.
Darren began stroking my neck whilst Jim’s hand ran lightly over my now hard cock.
I was determined to hold out much longer this time and make the most of this amazing experience.
Darren was tweaking my nipples again and whispering in my ear. Jim was stroking my cock, agonisingly slowly. I strained against my bonds – I SO wanted them both.
As if he had read my thoughts, Darren whispered “Do you want us to take you?” His breath in my ear drove me wild.
“Yes Master” I whispered back.
“Whatever the cost?” he whispered again.
“Yes Master, please”
They stopped for a moment, exchanged some whispered words, then I felt them swap places. Jim was now concentrating on my neck whilst Darren played more firmly with my dick.
“Would you like to taste the Jim cock?” he whispered softly.
I nearly choked there and then. “YES” I said in a definite tone. “YES MASTER”
”While Master Darren fucks you?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing
“YES PLEASE MASTERS”
“Whatever the cost?”
“YES PLEASE MASTERS” I repeated. I had got the idea in my mind and I wanted it more than anything else. I should have picked up on the ‘whatever the cost’ line which both had used on me – but I didn’t.
They re-tied me on the bed in an ‘on all fours’ position
Jim shuffled round in front of me and unbuttoned the fly of his boxers. He pulled out his dick which was semi-erect and already appeared large. He pushed it to my lips which I willingly opened for him.
It slid in and down my throat. I began to suck. It tasted even sweeter than I had imagined. Quickly, it stiffened and became fully hard. It was almost more than I could take. But I was determined to give him the blow-job of his life, even if it choked me in the process. I began to build up a rhythm and he sighed, as if in pleasure.
Suddenly, I felt Darren’s cock sliding between my spread legs. It hurt as he entered and I tried not to let the pain distract me from sucking Jim’s now huge cock.
I was finding it hard to breath with Jim’s cock in my mouth and Darren’s up my ass but I concentrated on getting synchronized so that as Darren pushed in, which pushed me forward slightly, I went down on Jim.
Ever since I had known them, I had fantasied about this and now here I was, getting spit-roasted, by my two former best mates – now my owners.
This was my sole purpose in life, this was why I was here; to serve these two young studs.
The pace quickened now as Darren’s relentless pounding became faster and harder. This caused me to push deeper down on Jim’s solid meat. I cradled his big hairy balls in my hand and he seemed to like that. Moments later, I felt him tense. Then he exploded. Hot spunk fired down my throat like a bullet from a gun and he gave a yell “Swallow it bitch!” I didn’t need telling. Greedily, I milked every last drop. Moments later, I felt Darren shoot his load inside me.
I didn’t care about humiliation anymore. Only men could be humiliated. I had gone past that. Why should a slave feel humiliation – it was part of my role to be used as their fuck toy, to take their spunk.
Darren slapped my ass cheeks hard as he continued to shoot inside me and Jim slapped my face as I licked the end of his knob clean.
They both withdrew and smiled at each other.
Again I was released and given a towel to clean myself up. My cock was still hard from what had just happened but I could see that having both cum, they were now interested in just one thing; sleep.
They tied me back in my spread-eagle position on the bed and settled down, one either side of me. I didn’t mind too much. What had just happened had changed everything. I felt sure it was to be the first of many such sessions and I would have the chance to cum again. How wrong I was to be….!
I slept long and deep that night and awoke the next morning to find myself being untied by Darren. I was ordered to make breakfast and perform various household chores – wearing the leather chastity belt, hood, collar and lead.
Dutifully, I carried out my chores, all the while, reflecting on what had happened last night. Once I had finished, I was given a cold shower and cleaned up by Darren who then informed me that he and Jim were going out. I was made to drink a glass of whisky and swallow four tablets and tied back in my spreadeagled position on the bed. They removed the chastity belt but tied my balls up so tight it made me gasp but I was already feeling a little light-headed as they threw a duvet over me.
I heard them drive off in Jim’s car and thought they had been a little quiet. As sleep overtook me, I wondered where they were going and what else they had in store for me.
My dreams were filled with strange sexual images, no doubt inspired by the previous night’s antics. I dreamt I was being pushed about and slowly realized that I wasn’t dreaming it but in fact I was being manhandled. As I fought to come to from my sleep, I realized that the hood was being removed..
Bright lights were shining down on me. My head was spinning.
I blinked and saw both Jim and Darren in the room. Both were wearing surgical gloves and various medical equipment was in evidence.
“Slaveboy,” Darren said in a somber tone, “You are accused of trying to make us gay by enticing us to get involved in sex acts with a male. We have decided that the only course of action to cure this is if you are NOT a male anymore.”
I guessed this was one of Darren’s mock castration specialties which he used from time to time to scare me. I felt sick from the whisky and tablets and I had a pain in my groin.
“I don’t feel well” I said. “I’m sorry but can we stop now?”
”I don’t think you understand the seriousness here,” Darren said. “You are going to be castrated”
“Yeah, I know the routine,” I replied, not in the mood for playing, “But I really don’t feel well. Its those tablets you gave me with that whisky. Can you let me sleep it off and we can play later?”
”We are not playing,” said Jim, pulling back the duvet, “This is for real”
I looked down and almost passed out from shock. My balls were swollen and black. They had been tied so tightly, that the circulation had been cut off. Even if they were playing, they had probably done irreversible damage. But I suddenly knew they were deadly serious. I freaked out and began to scream, still staring at my half-dead testicles.
Darren came over and stuffed a sock in my mouth, taping it over with duct tape.
I struggled and yelled muffled shrieks through the gag.
He put a hand on my forehead and spoke softly. “Didn’t you enjoy last night? Don’t you want to do it again?”
I stared at him, wild eyed, and he gazed back.
“We want to do it again. All the time, in fact. But we cant with a man – it would make us gay. But if you lose these,” and he put his other hand on my balls. They were cold and had no feeling. I knew they were almost ruined. “If you lose these, you can be our sex slave forever. You wont be a man so it wont be gay. And anyway – you agreed to it last night. We said ‘whatever the cost’ and you agreed”
I was shaking. Tears filled my eyes. But I knew it didn’t matter what I wanted. They were going to do it anyway. My two tormentors were going to become my two castrators. They were going to nut me, here in my own bed, in my own home, and I was powerless to stop it.
“We have entonox so it wont hurt,” said Jim, pointing to a cylinder by the bed. “And I have got a load of pain killers, antiseptic stuff a proper scalpel and some superglue so no need for stitches. A simple cut and it will all be over.”
They had it all worked out. A simple cut and it would all be over. My life as a male would be over. I would become a sexless eunuch. Their sexless eunuch; to be used for fucking and sucking whenever it pleased them.
It was my sweetest dream and my worst nightmare in one. I felt sick to the stomach. My head hurt, I felt feint, the pain in my groin had worsened and to add to it all, I had a raging hard on. Darren spotted it. “Look,” he said to Jim, “His dick has decided for him. Cut him.” And with those words, my fate was sealed.
I begged and pleaded with them through my gag but they took no notice.
Jim began to paint the antiseptic solution over my balls and my cock was duct taped to my belly to keep it out of the way.
Darren put the mask that would deliver the pain-relieving gas over my nose and mouth and switched on the flow.
They prepared everything and ran through a checklist before Jim picked up the scalpel. I was glad, in a way, that if anyone was going to nut me it should be my one-time best mate and now one of my two Masters.
Resigned to my fate, I watched – horrified and fascinated – as he located the area he would cut. And then, almost surgeon-like, he began to work with the scalpel.
As the blade cut into the tiny neck of flesh between my cock and balls, I came one long, last time.
It was the last time I would ever shoot my load and was probably the best one of my life. As my scrotum was separated from my body before my eyes, and my cock pumped out jism for the last time, I knew that this was what I wanted.
A life of slavery stretched before my eyes – of being bound and helpless at their mercy. Of being forced to perform for their pleasure and always denied that ultimate pleasure for myself. The only cum I would ever know again would be theirs. Being made to suck their mighty cocks or have them rape me when they desired. And all the time, being reminded of my status by the space between my legs where my balls had once hung.
I felt little pain thanks to the drugs and gasses. Jim’s cut was a clean one and there was scarcely any blood as they had tied them so tightly. He made a neat job of gluing my severed scrotum back together and he applied dressings in a very professional manner.
When he had finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork and to smile for the camera.
To my astonishment, I realised that they had filmed the whole thing. “We didn’t tell you as we didn’t want you to pose or act up. We wanted it all to be natural.” Jim explained.
“We are gonna put a trailer on the internet but sell copies of the actual video.” Darren added. “You will be famous”
“And anyway, its not something we can do again so we figured we needed a souvenir” Jim added, laughing.
I actually smiled back. Already, I was beginning to fall asleep again, the drugs and my emotions taking effect.
“You are gonna be out of action for about a week but when you are recovered, we will have a nice new plaything,” Darren joked. He bent over and kissed me on the forehead. “You have been a good slave today. Now get some rest and get better soon.”
I nodded weakly and watched them both leave the room before finally sinking into a deep sleep – my first as a eunuch.