Becoming An Unwilling Piss Slave

 

From high school wrestling star to pathetic piss-bitch, it’s been quite a rapid descent for Card Stevens. In less than a year, he’s gone from big man on campus to a human urinal who spends his weekends in the bathrooms of a gay bar, sitting naked in his own piss while downing load after load of stinking bladder wastes from dudes he used to scorn as disgusting perverts. And even though he’s already swallowed enough pee in the last six months to float a battleship, he still blushes like a little girl every time a dude he knew in high school steps up, unzips, and unloads his stinking urine down Card’s frantically gulping throat. He’s an honest-to-God piss-bitch now but that sure as hell wasn’t the future he saw laid out in front of him when he first ran into his Master, when he first met Jackson Anders.

He didn’t know that the dude sticking his hand out and introducing himself as his new roommate was going to be his Master. No, Card didn’t have a clue what the larger boy had in store for him. He took Jackson Anders for what he purported to be, a fellow wrestler, another scholarship student destined to help out State’s fabled wrestling team win another National championship. Little did he realize that behind the placid demeanor Anders presented to the world lurked a brutal sadist who took particular pleasure in sexually abusing and degrading other jocks, turning them into cowering, pathetic fuck-toys who would submit to any sick perversion Anders’ mind could devise. But Card’s epiphany was not long in coming.

They’d only been roommates two weeks before Anders made his move. The two of them had gone out after classes were over on Friday for a few brews. Card was surprised at what seemed to Anders unlimited capacity, but he tried to keep up with the bigger boy. By the time they called it quits, Card was finding it difficult to focus and he never would have made it back to the dorm if Anders hadn’t been there to help him.

And Anders continued to help him once they got back to their room, helping Card doff his clothes, though at times it seemed that his lands lingered a little too long on the smaller wrestler’s body. However, it wasn’t until Card was completely naked that the true nature of his roommate’s interest in Card’s body became apparent. Card felt Anders’ fingers running up and down the cleft of his ass. “Dude,” Card asked, trying to shake Anders’ hand off his butt, “what are you doing?”

But instead of removing his hand, Anders fingers stopped at Card’s puckered sphincter and began pressing a rigid digit against it. A second later, Card was shocked to hear Anders ask, “You cherry, Card? You ever been fucked?”

“What the fuck you talking about, dude?” Card exclaimed, trying to move away from his roommate. In just seconds, the two of them were grappling with each other, tumbling onto Card’s bed. Even sober, Card was no real match for his larger roommate but in his inebriated state, the fight was over in less than two minutes. Card was still struggling underneath his roommate when Anders ripped off his own briefs and jammed them into Card’s mouth, muffling the smaller boy’s screams and protests. And there, on Card’s own bed, Anders raped his smaller teammate, destroying the boy’s asshole, turning it into his own personal fuck-cunt.

Anders kept fucking him the whole night. Or at least it seemed that way to Card, who passed out around three in the morning while Anders was plowing away at his hole for the third time only to wake up hours later just as his roommate’s creamed the boy’s aching pussy-hole yet again. By the time Anders finally yanked his cock out of the ruins of Card’s sodden asshole, it felt to the smaller boy like his roommate had fucked him with a blowtorch, his ass burned and hurt so much.

Card was lying on the bed utterly exhausted by the ordeal he’d just gone through. But even though he’d spent the better part of the night coring out Card’s no-longer-virgin boycunt, Anders didn’t seem tired in the least. Instead, he reached down and grabbed a shock of Card’s hair and yanked the boy to his feet. “Come with me, bitch,” he said imperiously, “we need to get you cleaned up.” The next thing Card knew, he was being pulled out of his dorm room and led, by his hair, into the dorm-suite’s showers. And there, as two of his suite-mates watched in stunned disbelief, Anders proceeded to shave Card’s ass, his pubes, and his pit-hair, explaining to the other two boys that, “I like my bitches nice and smooth where it matters.”

In retrospect, Card realized that then was the time he should have protested, should have told his suite-mates that Anders had forcibly raped him, that Card wasn’t a willing party to what was happening. But whether it was the shock of having been violently and repeatedly raped the night before or the sheer humiliation that overwhelmed him as his pubes and other body hair were publicly shaved off, Card failed to make any objection. It was therefore not surprising that when Anders, having finished shaving Card’s most private parts, proceeded to violently fuck the boy again, right in front of his two suite-mates, neither of them made any attempt to intervene even when Card began squealing and shrieking in pain. And when, after he had finished fucking Card, loudly screaming as he shot a fresh load of Man-cum up the teenager’s aching shitter, Anders pulled the boy by his hair back to their shared bedroom, it took less that five minutes for the rest of Card’s suite-mates to learn that Card was a faggot who was serving as his roommate’s fuck-bitch.

Anders kept Card naked, in their bedroom, for the rest of that first weekend. And when he wasn’t brutally fucking the boy’s ‘cunt,’ he was training the boy in his new role as the bigger boy’s fuck-whore. “The rules are simple, bitch,” Anders told him, “you do whatever I tell you to do and you do it without any hesitation or any backtalk. And understand, failure to do so will result in immediate and severe punishment. Do you understand, bitch?”

Card was kneeling before his roommate, a fresh load of Man-scuzz dripping out of his battered boy-bung. “Yes…yes, sir,” he replied, now terrified of his roommate, not wanting to do or say anything that might set him off. But all his meek acquiescence gained him was a sharp slap to his face. “You will address me as ‘Master Jackson,’ bitch, because that’s what I am – your Master.”

“Yes, Master,” Card quickly amended, his face flaring both from the slap and the profound humiliation he felt at his abject submission to the bigger boy. But even his immediate submission did not serve to keep Master Jackson from roughly hauling the boy over his lap and administering a brutal ass-spanking that left Card’s ass-cheeks a fiery red and left him sobbing just like any little boy who’d recently been punished for his misdeeds. And it was merely the first of many ass-thrashings that Card had to endure that first weekend.

And it wasn’t only Card’s ass that was the focal point for Master Jackson’s discipline. Card’s balls and cock – his boyvaries and boy-clit as he was instructed to call them – were squeezed, twisted, and pummeled so much that Card began to view them as merely a source of pain and agony rather than one of pleasure. But even the way Card’s boy-junk was manhandled paled when compared to the mistreatment his poor nipples – his boy-tits – suffered.

Card’s little nips had always been particularly sensitive and, sitting the way they did on Card’s well-developed pectorals, it wasn’t long that weekend before they came in for their own abuse at Master Jackson’s hands. And once his new Master discovered how sensitive they were to pain, they became his favorite way to inflict pain on his bitch, something he seemed to enjoy even more than fucking the boy. Master Jackson squeezed and twisted and pinched Card’s boy-tits mercilessly, bit them voraciously, adorned them with weighted alligator clips until Card was shrieking in agony. And when Card, almost insensate from the pain shooting throughout his body from his tortured boy-tits, was reduced to begging and pleading with his Master for mercy, Master Jackson would laugh at him and add more weights to the tit-clamps. And those hated tit-clamps were all Card was allowed to wear when, on Sunday afternoon, at his Master’s direction, the boy went door to door in his suite, telling his suite-mates to please feel free to fuck his ‘faggot cunt’ whenever they got the urge. Two did, right then and there, and it didn’t take more than a week later before all of his suite-mates had come round to routinely fucking Card’s pussy whenever they got the urge.

But if Master Jackson was definitely aroused by the pain he could inflict on his new bitch, he was even more excited by humiliating the boy, particularly when he could do so in public. Master Jackson forced Card to dress in the most revealing clothes for his classes – cut-off tank-tops that barely covered his perky and swollen boy-tits, shorts so tight they looked they had been sprayed on. And Card was never permitted to leave the apartment without wearing a stainless-steel chastity cage complete with a multi-balled butt-plug that forced him to groan in discomfort every time he sat down.

Master Jackson even made Card wear his chastity cage to wrestling practices, forcing Card to out himself as a pathetic fuck-bitch in front of all of his fellow-jocks. Card’s entire body was blushing a brilliant scarlet that first day as he lowered his shorts in the crowded locker room to reveal the metal cage encasing his boyhood and then, as he’d been instructed, go over to Master Jackson and ask his Master to ‘please remove my clit-cage so that I can put on my wrestling singlet.’ The initial round of shocked gasps from the other wrestlers soon gave way to derisive jeers and insults as Master Jackson unlocked the cage and removed it to expose not only Card’s pubeless groin but the large butt-plug that had been wedged up the boy’s fuck-twat. And when, a few seconds later, a large effusion of Master Jackson’s ball-scuzz began trickling past the boy’s swollen cunt-lips, absolute bedlam ensued. “Get that faggot out of here,” one teammate shouted while another, calling Card a ‘disgusting piece of homo-shit,’ literally spit on the boy’s face.

Card thought he’d die of shame the way they ragged on him, throwing one obscene epithet after another at him, and it wasn’t until two of the coaches came into the locker room that some semblance of order was restored. The coaches looked at Card with undisguised contempt, shaking their heads. Finally, Rock Stranger, the head wrestling coach, spoke up. “Get dressed, boy,” he roughly ordered Card, “we got a practice we need to get to. I’ll deal with you, later.”

It was a practice unlike any Card had ever experienced before. None of his opponents held back in the slightest and while most of them seemed to go out of their way to squeeze and molest his junk in ways that would never be permitted in an actual match, the coaches never called any of them on it. It wasn’t surprising, considering the constant mauling it was undergoing, that Card’s boy-clit was totally boned up during the entire practice, actually dribbling pre-cum that was staining the front of his singlet, which, of course, generated no end of slurs and caustic comments from his fellow-wrestlers. Card was sure the was going to be cut from the team and, by the time the practice ended, even he thought that might be the best resolution possible.

During the practice session, Card had noticed that Master Jackson in frequent conversation with Coach Stranger. He had no idea what was going on, though things became perfectly clear once the practice ended and they all trooped back into the locker room. Once they were all inside, Coach Stranger told the wrestlers to gather around him. When they did, the coach turned to Master Jackson and said, “go ahead, Anders, tell them what you’ve already told me.”

Master Jackson look around for a moment and then stared directly at Card. “Okay, bitch,” he ordered with a smirk, “strip.” His whole body once again flushing a bright red, Card did as directed, having already learned what failure to do exactly what his Master told him would result in. Card couldn’t believe how humiliating it was, stripping while everyone else snickered at him. And it didn’t help matters that his boy-clit was still fully erect. Once he was totally naked, he looked at Master Jackson and waited for his Master to continue forcing himself not to try to cover up his embarrassing erection, knowing that Master Jackson would be furious if he did so.

Master Jackson was grinning as he took in his bitch’s obvious embarrassment. Then, he turned to speak to his fellow wrestlers. “As most of you already know, I discovered this weekend that my roommate, Card Stevens, was a pathetic little faggot fuck-whore. I’d had practice dealing with fags before, so I knew exactly what to do – I fucked the living crap out of his faggot-pussy and started training him up to be a respectful faggot-bitch for Real Men to use and enjoy.”

At this point, Jackson Anders paused and looked around the room. “Now I know a lot of you have never fucked fag-pussy and some of you may be put off by the idea of it. But let me assure you that once you try it – and please feel free to fuck the bitch’s pussy whenever you want – you will enjoy it. As they say, a pussy is a pussy. And the thing about fag-pussy is that you don’t have to worry about the fag. You can fuck his pussy as hard as you want. And, if it hurts him, so what? He’s a fucking fag. Who gives a shit? I sure don’t. And you shouldn’t either. So please, all you guys, feel free to fuck my new bitch after every practice. Just like I’m gonna do right now.”

And with that, Master Jackson began shrugging off his singlet and in just seconds his big cock was buried balls-deep in Card’s still-sore boy-cunt, as Card squealed in renewed pain as the bigger boy began jackhammering his tender hole. By the time his Master had once again creamed his tortured cunt, a line of horny wrestlers had formed up behind him.

Over half his teammates fucked his pussy that first afternoon, and by the third practice session every one of Card’s teammate had tried out his ass-cunt at least once. They all pretty much still treated him like shit when they weren’t fucking him, which wasn’t surprising since that’s exactly how they treated him while they were fucking him. He wasn’t their teammate anymore – he was the team’s faggot fuck-bitch. And Card, who before had always looked forward to these practice sessions where he got to pit himself against his fellow wrestlers quickly learned to dread them.

But as bad as being bitched out to all of his teammates was, it wasn’t the worst thing Master Jackson did to Card. Not even close. Because as Master Jackson had discovered early on in his training of his fag-bitch, the one thing that Card hated the most was being forced to drink his Master’s pungent urine. At least when he was being used as the team’s cum-dump, Card could appreciate the sexual pleasure his teammates were experiencing as they pounded away at his boycunt. It was incredibly demeaning lying there as one dude after another jammed his cock up Card’s back-hole and used his pussy to get a nut, but Card could at least understand the pleasure they felt when they used him that way. But to serve as another dude’s urinal, his piss-hole, seemed to have no purpose other than to humiliate Card, to degrade him, to emphasize how far away from being a Real Man Card really was. The pleasure a man felt in pissing down Card;s throat didn’t come from his own sexual release but in Card’s total degradation and humiliation. There was nothing else that Master Jackson did to him that disgusted and embarrassed him nearly as much, nothing that Card hated more. And, unfortunately for Card, Master Jackson understood this. And so, sadist that he was, Master Jackson determined to turn Card into a groveling piss-bitch.

Twice every day, Card was required to crawl naked, as he always was kept in the suite, from room to room and beg his suite-mates to be allowed to drink their pee. The looks of shock and contempt that greeted this request the first time he was forced to make it made Card literally shake with humiliation, but that was nothing compared to the shame that overwhelmed him when one of his suite-mates took him up on the offer and peed down his throat, literally snorting his disdain as he did so. As the days passed, one by one, his suite-mates took him up on his offer and, in less than two weeks, he had become the urinal of choice for all of his suite-mates.

It wasn’t long after that that Master Jackson made Card drink his pee in front of all his fellow-wrestlers, laughingly telling them that he hadn’t used the porcelain urinal in his dorm suite in three weeks. “Why bother?” he asked rhetorically, “when I’ve got a human piss-hole right at hand to take care of it whenever I want? And all you guys,” he added as he zipped up, “should feel free to use the little whore the same way whenever you need to take a leak.” Within days, the wasn’t a single teammate who wasn’t routinely using Card’s mouth whenever he needed to take a piss during practice and, by the time any practice ended, Card’s belly would be visibly bulging out his singlet with all his teammates’ bladder-wastes.

But the worst of it all started a couple months later. Card knew something was up the moment Master Jackson returned from the post office carrying a large cardboard box. He recognized the gleam in his Master’s eye as something that always presaged some new humiliation that was about to be inflicted on him. And the moment his Master began removing items from the box, beginning with the large metallic funnel, Card understood what it would be used for.

Card knelt in front of Master Jackson, blushing furiously, as his Master affixed the metal contraption to Card’s head. It had been cunningly designed to keep his head in an upright position that forced Card to look straight up at the funnel that led directly down to his mouth. And as Card watched in humiliated horror, no sooner had Master Jackson fitted the gag firmly over his mouth than he unzipped his pants and proceeded to aim a torrent of his rancid pee into the funnel and down into Card;s frantically gulping throat. The disgusting taste of his Master’s piss was still permeating his mouth when Master Jackson ordered Card to make the rounds of their suite so that their suite-mates might have their own opportunity to try out Card’s new piss-gag.

Card had been serving as his dorm suite’s piss-hole for a couple of months now, but even though he couldn’t even estimate how many gallons of his suite-mates’ piss he’d downed during that time, he still found it repulsively demeaning every time he did it. And his new piss-gag seemed to make it somehow even worse. It made Card feel not merely that he was serving as a urinal but that he actually WAS a urinal, that being their human piss-hole now defined him even more than being their faggot cum-dump. Before, as a practical matter, Card had served each of his suite-mates as a piss-pit individually, kneeling before each boy as he emptied his bladder into him. It was disgusting and demeaning to be sure, but there was still an element of a personal relationship to the act. But the funnel at the top of his piss-gag allowed multiple boys to simultaneously pee into it. And that’s exactly what they did – two or three boys standing up and pissing together into the funnel, laughing with each other, enjoying the bonding experience of mingling their piss into the same hole, while Card just knelt there almost ignored, desperately swallowing as fast as he could, watching his fellow suite-mates enjoy an experience that seemed to exclude him even though he was literally at the center of it. It made serving as their collective piss-hole more dehumanizing than it had ever been before.

But it wasn’t until that weekend that Master Jackson truly unveiled the full depths of the degradation he had planned for the boy. Card knew something special was up when Master Jackson fitted his thighs and calves with multiple metal straps and then affixed his ornate metal cock-cage/butt plug onto his boy-clit and up his pussy. From past experience, this only happened when Master Jackson was taking him to a wrestling team party, where he would serve as the group’s entertainment. When Master Jackson ordered him to bring the box containing the piss-gag with him, Card’s heart sank since he was sure that this meant that all of his fellow wrestlers would be using him as a urinal the same way his suite-mates now did – with the piss-gag fixed firmly on his head and in his mouth.

But it wasn’t a party Master Jackson was taking him to, it was The Last Stop, the most notorious gay leather bar in town. Just walking into that bar was an agony of embarrassment for Card, dressed the way he was. Heads turned, wolf-whistles and catcalls greeted him as he followed his Master into the back bar, barefoot and naked except for his metal cock-cage and the metal straps around his thighs and calves. Master Jackson walked right up to another man who was standing behind the bar.

“This is the bitch I told you about,” he said.

The dude looked Card over and then just shook his head. “I never would have figured a boy like him would be a piss-queen, but I guess it takes all types. Okay, get him set up in the bathroom. Just remember, he cleans up any mess that he’s made at the end of the night.”

“No problem,” Master Jackson replied. Then, turning to Card, he said, “C’mon, bitch. Let’s get you ready to show all these Real Men what you’re really good for,” and then headed off towards the bathroom, leaving Card to follow behind.

Once inside the bathroom, Master Jackson directed Card to kneel between the two urinals. Then he took the box from the boy and began fastening the piss-gag onto the boy’s head. “Oh, please, Master, please,” Card started begging. “Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Please, Master, I’m begging you.” But Master Jackson just ignored Card’s plaintive pleas and they were soon cut off as the gag was jammed into his mouth. Once the gag was properly in place, Master Jackson ordered Card to sit his naked ass down on the floor and to spread his legs apart, blocking access to the other two urinals. That way, bar patrons would have no choice but to use his funnel when they needed to relieve their bladders.

“You’re here for the duration, bitch,” Master Jackson advised as he unzipped his pants and began whizzing into Card’s piss-funnel. “And remember, any mess you make, you’re gonna be cleaning up.” Card was still gulping down his Master’s accumulated piss when the Man zipped up and headed towards the door. “Have fun, bitch,” Master Jackson sarcastically added, as walked out.

Master Jackson hadn’t been gone thirty seconds before the door banged open and in walked a biker wanting to take a piss. “Holy Fuck!” he exclaimed when he saw Card on the floor with the funnel from the piss-gag sticking into the air. He looked around for a few seconds, uncertain as to how to proceed, but finally just shrugged his shoulders and walked up to Card, pulled his cock out and started pissing. “Drink up, faggot,” he sneered, as Card began swallowing convulsively. The biker hadn’t even finished washing his hands before he was joined by another patron.

“Motherfuck!” the new man exclaimed as he took in the sight of Card, naked except for his cock-cage, on the floor. “What the fuck’s going on?”

The biker at the sink, chuckled loudly. ‘Looks like we got ourselves a human piss-hole for the night.”

“God,” the second dude replied, “that’s disgusting. What type of sick pervert would want to spend the night downing other dudes’ stinking pee?”

“One sick motherfucker, you can count on that, bro,” the biker opined. “But, I figured, if that’s what floats his boat, that’s his problem. There’s a lot of really twisted pervs in this world. He’s a good looking dude, but who knows what else he’s into. Probably eats shit, too, sick motherfucker. But I figured. when you gotta piss, you gotta piss so I gave the little bitch just what he wanted – a hot load of my bladder juice.”

“Well, he’s welcome to mine, too,” the second dude said, walking forward and unzipping. “I gotta piss something fierce.” And with that he started whizzing away into the funnel leaving Card with no choice but to swallow as fast as he could. And even before he’d flicked off the last few drops into the funnel, yet another dude came into the room wanting to take a piss. “What the fuck,” the new dude muttered as the guy who had just finished peeing down Card’s throat turned to explain things to him.

And so it went for the first couple hours as Card sat there naked on the bathroom floor. Dude after dude would come through the door, express his surprise, and then his contempt, and then use Card for the obvious purpose that he was there – as a human urinal. For Card, it was an unending nightmare of abject humiliation as he had to listen to all their exclamations of surprise, contempt, and disgust and then still had to swallow their stinking pee, thereby seemingly validating every vile thing they’d said about him.

And, as time went on, things only got worse. It was bad enough when he looked up and realized that a dude was peeing into his mouth for a second and then a third and fourth time, but what was even more embarrassing was when, as happened on a number of occasions, Card recognized the dude pissing into him from one of his classes – and the dude recognized him, too. Knowing the way the news spread on twitter and other sites, Card realized that virtually all of his classmates would have heard about the disgusting display Card had put on in the bathroom of The Last Stop before he even made it out of the bar.

Roughly two hours after Card had started serving as the bar’s urinal, he reached the point that he’d been fearing from the very beginning. His belly was bulging, the multiple loads of piss that he’d down obscuring his abs, his stomach extending so far forward that it protruded well beyond his pecs, the need for him to piss almost unbearable. The breaking point came when three dudes joined in filling his piss-funnel to the very top. Card’s control over his own bladder finally gave way and he began pissing himself on the floor, to their raucous amusement and his own excruciating humiliation. Card pissed himself a good five minutes and, by the time he finished, he was not only guzzling down other dudes’ pee, he was sitting in his own.

From that point on, Card pretty much lost all control over his own bladder and he was pissing himself constantly throughout the rest of the night. By the time the bar closed at 3:00 a.m., nearly half of the bathroom floor was covered with Card’s recycled piss. When Master Jackson finally came in to collect him, Card knew he stank exactly like you’d expect a urinal to.

“You have fun, bitch?” Master Jackson asked contemptuously as he finally took off the piss-gag that Card had been wearing for the last six hours.

Card just stared at his Master, all the accumulated humiliations of his long evening forcing tears to his eyes. But when Master Jackson raised an eyebrow in a way that Card had learned to fear, Card knew what he had to do. “Yes, Master Jackson,” he replied. “Thank you, Master.” Just saying those words, thanking his Master for inflicting upon him the worst night of his entire life, crushed any last remnant of manhood that Card had somehow managed to retain through all the other degradations he had endured.

A huge smile lit up Master Jackson’s face. “I’m glad to hear that, bitch, cause you were a real hit tonight – everybody was talking about the piss-bitch in the bathroom. So much so that they’ve asked us to come back tomorrow night. And,” Master Jackson continued, the raw humor making his voice almost cackle, “assuming things go as well, you’re gonna be a permanent weekend fixture here from now on. Isn’t that great, bitch? Isn’t that great?”

Card didn’t want to cry in front of Master Jackson – he knew how much his Master enjoyed making his bitch cry like a little boy. But Card couldn’t help himself and the tears just started cascading down his face. Yet even as he was audibly sobbing Card forced himself to respond, “Yes, Master. That’s great, Master.”

His triumph now total, Master Jackson’s grin grew even bigger. “Okay, bitch. Now you need to get his place clean. And you know exactly how a bitch cleans up a mess he’s made – with his tongue. So get slurping, bitch. Get slurping right now.”

And as Card knelt down and began slurping his own recycled bladder wastes from the bathroom floor of a seedy bar, the tears kept flowing uncontrollably. He was a piss-bitch now. A human urinal. That was the life that now awaited him. And even with everything else that had already happened to him, Card couldn’t imagine a worse fate.

Afternoon Castration

Placing Castration Bands with Elastrator

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.

Urinal Boy 5: In The Bushes

Bryan Marshall was only on his fourth beer, but Chip and Ronnie were pretty much wasted at that point. They were all sitting on the hood of a beat-up, abandoned Gremlin by the side of the railroad tracks, smoking, drinking and having a good time for themselves. Ronnie was leaning over on Bryan's shoulder, and kept drunkenly repeating the same question over and over. "Yeah, Marshall, but what did she smell like?" "What the fuck do you think she smelled like? She smelled like pussy! Aint you ever smelled a pussy?" Bryan was starting to get a little irritated at his inebriated friend. "Course, I smelled lotsa pussy, but what I wanna know is what this particular pussy smelled like!" "Smelled like a fuckin' pussy, you retard! I bet you never smelled one. Hell, Ronnie, I bet you never even SEEN one!" "Now I really gotta take a leak!" Chip exclaimed, jumping off the hood of the car. He landed wrong and twisted his ankle. "Oh fuck!" he moaned. "Have another beer and you won't feel a thing!" Bryan laughed. "Yeah, I'll have another fuckin', uh, whatever the hell this godawful piss beer is!" Chip limped off into the bushes to take a leak. They all had been pissing in pretty much the same spot in the bushes the whole time, and all the leaves on those bushes were wet with piss. Chip drunkenly aimed a heavy spray at some mountain laurel bushes and then staggered back to the railroad tracks where Bryan and Ronnie were still arguing about what a pussy smelled like. What Chip was too drunk to notice was how close he came to spraying the excited faces of two young boys who were hiding in that same mountain laurel bush. *** Nervously, we ducked into one of the mountain laurel bushes to avoid being seen. Who was there? Did they see us? Randy and I clung to each other, breathless, our hearts beating in sync. The fear, our warm bodies meshed together, the desire to protect each other. I think I fell in love with him then. We didn't realize until it was too late what a stupid idea it was to hide in that bush. An older boy, about my brother's age, came crashing through the bushes. When he came to our bush he stopped. Randy and I were terrified. Had he seen what we had just been doing a few minutes ago? Then I realized that the guy was drunk, so drunk he didn't even see us hiding in the bush two feet in front of him. Then he started to unzip his fly. Things were really starting to get interesting for me and Randy. Our tongues were out and ready. He sprayed the leaves and it spattered all over our faces. We both tried to angle our faces to take turns getting as close to the piss stream as we could. It didn't really matter, we could lick the piss off each other's faces once the boy left. Then the boy stopped pissing. Shit, I thought. He saw us! How were we going to explain this one? Randy looked up in horror at the older boy. The older boy staggered a bit and then tried to focus his eyes on Randy. It was obvious to me that the two of them knew each other. Then the older boy looked over his shoulder to the abandoned car near the train tracks where his friends were drinking. "Hey Marshall, guess what?" "What? You pissed your brains out?" "No dude. This is like so random! I just pissed all over your little brother!" "What? What the fuck are you talking about? Randy's in school. Shut your pie hole. You're fuckin' drunk." "No, I'm serious, Marshall. I just pissed on your brother! I was taking a leak in the bush and pissed all over him. He was hiding. And he's got a little friend in here, too. Come over here and see!" Then we heard someone else come crashing through the brush. It was Randy's brother. He looked at Randy. He looked at me. He looked at his friend. "Hi Bryan." Randy said nervously. "I guess you're right, Chip," Bryan shrugged. "You did piss on my brother. Knowing him, he probably enjoyed it. He's weird like that." Chip was perplexed. "Whaddya mean, `he's weird like that'?" "I dunno. He's just always tryin' to suck my dick, but I won't let him. I caught him sniffin' my dirty underwear once. He always does that kinda weird shit. We're all pretty sure he's gonna turn into a fag, if he hasn't already." "Wait a second, Marsh," Chip said. "I'm pretty wasted right now, so maybe I really have no idea what the fuck is going on. Please explain this to me. Do you mean to tell me that you sleep in the same room with a cock sucking little faggot? The one I just pissed on?" "Watch it, Chip! He may be a cock sucking faggot, but he's still my little brother, and I love him! Don't you ever say anything bad about Randy again!" "No, no, I'm sorry, Marshall. I guess that came out wrong. What I meant to say was, like, um, dude, you had this cocksucker in your bedroom every night, and you like never once let him go down on you? Hot damn! If I had a little brother who was queer for my cock, I'd be bustin' a nut in his mouth every chance I got! Course, a little sister would be better, but beggars can't be choosers. I can't believe I'm saying this, but holy fuck! Dude, if he wants to blow you so bad, why don't you just let him have it?" Randy and I were still squatting in the bushes, covered in Chip's piss. We had no idea what was about to happen. Actually, that's not true. We had a pretty good idea of exactly what was going to happen next. Bryan Marshall looked at the two of us still crouched in the bushes. "Why don't you two guys come out of there? Yeah, it's okay. Randy, who's your friend?" "Uh, this is my friend Jaden. From gym class." "Hi," I said shyly. "Hey kid. So you two cut class and decided to get freaky with each other in the woods, is that right?" Randy and I nodded. "So are you guys like, all done?" Randy was confused. "Whaddya mean, all done?" "You know. Did you guys finish what you started?" "Uh, no," Randy admitted. "We kinda got interrupted," I explained. "Dude, this is awesome!" Chip exclaimed. "Marshall, we got two cocksuckers for the price of one. And three cocks that gotta be sucked. See what I'm sayin'?" Then he looked at us. "You two will go down on us, won't you?" Randy looked nervously at his brother. "Uh, Bryan? Please? Can we?" "Sure, Randy, what the hell? I'll let ya do it just this once. I know you've been wanting it so bad. Now I don't need to get you nothin' for your birthday," he said as he began rubbing his crotch, "cuz I got your present right here." Randy approached his brother and gingerly reached for his crotch. "No, Randy, I'm taking you guys back to the tracks where we were hanging out. Gonna let Ronnie the virgin use you first. He ain't never had anyone play with his dick, so it's gonna be a real treat for him." We marched over to the railroad tracks where the abandoned car was. Ronnie was passed out in the back seat, his legs hanging out of the passenger side, which was missing a door. "Wake up, Ron," Chip said, trying to rouse his friend out of his stupor. "We got some nice pussy for you. You're gonna get your dick sucked now." "I know what pussy smells like, I smell it all the time," Ronnie moaned drunkenly. "That's right, Ronnie. Stay where you are. Just relax and enjoy your blowjob." "I can smell that pussy right now." "You sure gotta nose for pussy, Ronnie. Okay, now this chick's gonna take you someplace you never been before. She's gonna give you the best blowjob of your life!" Chip sort of grabbed Randy by the scruff of his neck and pushed him down towards Ronnie's crotch. "I'm sure you know what to do, kid." Randy got on his knees on the hard gravel that lined the train tracks and began to unzip Ronnie's fly. Chip, Bryan and I watched curiously as Randy obediently took Ronnie's soft cock out of his jeans and began to gently lick it to erection. I was getting horny again, and I know everyone else was, too. Ronnie's cock had an interesting shape. Since I had sucked plenty of my dad's friends' cocks, I had pretty much seen every kind of cock there was. The kind Ronnie had was one I rarely encountered but especially loved. It was short and really fat, with a very tiny, uncircumcised head. The shape was almost conical. I was sure Randy wouldn't mind if I tried to get in a few licks. It was as if Randy could read my mind. "Jaden, come here!" he motioned eagerly. I knelt down beside him. He pulled down the foreskin of that thick, fat cock to show me. "Look at that!" he grinned. There was quite a large accumulation of cock cheese under that head. "Have some," he urged me. I bent my head down into Ronnie's crotch and licked a big gob of cheese off of the head. Instantly, my mouth filled with the wonderful taste of pure, unwashed boy. Randy began licking the cheese off of the other side, and then our tongues met in the middle. It was a very special moment. Just then, I felt one of the guys pulling me away. "Hey! Ronnie can't have all the fun!" Chip yelled. "Sorry," I apologized. Chip was leaning against the side of the car, waiting for me to get on my knees and service him. I eagerly got into position, unzipping his jeans and taking out his medium-sized cock, which was already hard from all the excitement. I didn't even bother with any preliminary licking. I took it as far down my throat as I could and held it there for a minute. I reached my hands around and put them on his ass cheeks, loving the feel of the warm denim of his jeans in my hands. I gently pulled him towards me, hinting that I wanted him to fuck my face, and fuck it hard. Chip got the message. He shifted from the position of leaning against the car to a standing position, and began to start fucking my face. I hate to admit it, but I was a little bored. I guess after years of servicing my father and brother, drinking their piss and serving at their depraved little slut, an ordinary blowjob was boring to me. But who was I to complain? My job was to satisfy any man who wanted to use me. So I continued with the blowjob. Then something interesting happened. I could hear Chip clearing his throat, but I wasn't paying much attention. Then he tried to hock a big, thick loogie on the ground. Only he missed the ground, and I felt the slimy loogie sliding down my cheek. Instantly I got hard again. My brother always liked to spit on me, and it always really turned me on. "Oh shit! Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to do that." Chip reached into his pocket and tried to carefully pull out a handkerchief without letting his dick slip from my mouth. Instead, I did take his dick out of my mouth. Before he had a chance to wipe the loogie off my cheek, I wiped it onto my finger and put it in my mouth. I then smiled at him, said "More!", closed my eyes and opened my mouth. "You're fuckin' gross, kid! That's nasty!" "Please?" I begged. I still had my eyes closed and my mouth open. I didn't know whether he would do it to me or not. Soon, I felt a slimy gob of mucus on my tongue, sliding back towards my throat. I could taste the cigarettes he had been smoking mixed in with the taste of his mucus. I was pleased. "Thank you!" I said, and then happily went back to sucking him off. While I was sucking him, Chip called to Randy's brother. "Hey Marshall, check this out!" Bryan had been watching his brother suck off his passed-out friend. He came over to where I was working on Chip. "Watch this, Marshall. Hey kid, open up!" I stopped sucking Chip's cock and opened my mouth again. Chip hocked another loogie into my mouth. I swallowed and smiled. "Shit! He's even nastier than my brother!" I snaked my hand up to tease the bulge in Bryan's jeans. "I can handle two at once, you know." "Fuck, this is crazy!" Bryan said, shaking his head. "What the fuck am I going to think when I sober up?" Still, he made no effort to stop me from unzipping his fly and pulling out his massive cock. I now had one cock in each hand. Gently, I licked Bryan's cock. Already half hard, it sprung to attention at the touch of my tongue. I guided the two older guys closer so I could get both heads into my mouth at once. I stretched my mouth to accommodate both cocks, rubbing them against each other to increase the friction. Then I felt something land on my hair. Chip was spitting on me again. I revved up my sucking. "See, I told you he digs it. Go ahead, spit on him. It turns him on!" Then I felt a gob of spit from Bryan hit the side of my face. It felt so good to have those guys spitting on me. Every few minutes I would take their cocks out of my mouth so they could replenish my spit with theirs. Bryan spat on his cock right before it went back in my mouth. Randy came over to see what I was up to. "Hey, get back to work on Ronnie over there!" Bryan scolded him. Randy shrugged his shoulders. "That guy already came. I think he's unconscious now. Looks like all the action's over here!" Without saying a word, Bryan reached over and pinched Randy's nose, causing him to involuntarily open his mouth to breathe. Bryan bent over and hocked a loogie into his little brother's mouth. "Thanks, bro. How did you know I always wanted you to do that to me?" "Well, your little friend here seems to really dig it, so I figured you would, too." I let go of Bryan's dick and offered it to Randy. As Randy got on his knees to suck off his big brother, I knew that his lifelong dream had come true. I've never seen a boy so happy as Randy at that moment. Many gobs of spit later, Randy was treated to his first taste of his brother's cum and I was treated to Chip's. Once it was all over, the two guys woke Ronnie up and tried to get him home. That left me and Randy to go and wash up by a nearby stream. "You know, at 1:30 today, I went to the boys' room to secretly taste some piss. I thought I was a freak. I couldn't tell anyone my secret," Randy said. "Little did I know I was going to meet you, and that my life would change in an instant. This has been a very special day for me, Jaden. Thank you." And then he kissed me. His mouth tasted of everything we had shared: piss, spit and cum. "Things are never gonna be the same between me and my brother, that's for sure!" "You know, Randy, I feel the same way as you. For years, I never had anyone to talk to about the things I do with my dad and my brother Adam." Randy was aghast. "You mean you've done your brother before? And your dad?! Omigod! Fuck! I'm so jealous! I had no idea!" "I guess I've got a lot to tell you, Randy. It's a long story. Why don't you ask your mom if you can sleep over tonight and I'll tell you everything." "Great idea. You know, after all that, neither of us had a chance to get off yet. I'll come over and we'll finish each other off in your bed." "Sounds good to me."

Other Parts of the Urinal Boy Series: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

 

Originally posted on https://statdig.com

Banded

 

I was always a farm boy, although I think I thought of myself more as a rancher than a field worker. We raised crops for sure, corn mostly, and I’ve been working in the fields since I can remember. But what I liked best were the animals, and I have always enjoyed that part of it far more than tending crops. Yeah, I’ve loved animals as long as I can remember. My dad raised cattle, hogs, and sheep, which is an unusual combination, but he liked the variety and if the price fell for one of them then our market losses were often offset by having the other breeds to sell.

I was probably eight or nine the first time I saw a bander being used, and by the time I was a thirteen year old I was an old hand as castrating livestock. It wasn’t so much that I enjoyed it, as it was just a chore that had to be done. Still, when you are slipping thick rubber bands around a young bull’s scrotum or nutting the young hogs one after the other you are certainly aware of what you are doing, and I’d always get hard when it was going on. I don’t know why, but I did, but it wasn’t so much that I was consciously thinking about it. I mean, it’s just a chore. If you aren’t gonna breed them, then if they’ve got balls you nut them, plain and simple, and the bander is the easiest way to do it. Just put on the band, and after that it does the work and within a couple of weeks their balls literally fall right off. I’ve castrated pigs, calves, ponies, and sheep, and I’ve done more scrotums in my lifetime than I can count. Of course, I never thought I’d be banded, never thought that in a million years, although we sometimes would joke about it when we were out doing the animals.

But I think every farm kid alive is aware of the device, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if you put one of those bands around a teenager’s balls, it would do the same thing to him as it would do to any other animal. Of course, animals don’t have any idea what you are doing to them, and they really don’t fight it because they don’t understand what’s happening. My dad uses an EZY, because it’s fast and works well, and it didn’t take me long to master it. All you do is load the device with a pre-made latex band, sized for the animal you are nutting, and then you can do it in less than twenty seconds. It’s a one person deal—and there are no hassles with trying to stretch the band while castrating because the band is already stretched in the device, so it’s a simple matter to slip the scrotum through the spread band, and then just slide it off the jaws of device, clip the band, and it is done. The animal doesn’t even react, and within a half hour or so it’s nuts are numb and after that they just slowly die. Of course, if you ever did a human it would probably be different, cause for one thing a guy KNOWS what his balls are for, and he sure as shit isn’t ever gonna spread his legs and let some guy put some rubber ring around his sack. No, no sane guy alive is ever gonna allow someone to do that. At least, that’s what I thought.

Now, before I describe what happened to me, I guess I should at least talk about punishment on the farm, cause when you misbehaved where I was growing up, you got the strap. Plain and simple, if you screwed up, it was a trip to the barn, and that’s where you bent over one of the low hog fences inside the barn, which was typically about waist high. Then you had to grab and hold onto the lower rung of the fence while dad painted your bare bottom with the strap. At our farm it was a big razor strap, about three feet long and about 1/8 of an inch thick, and that fucker burned like a fire when it was being ripped into your bottom. Now, I know in this day and age that seems cruel, but it was just the way farm boys were punished, and you got used to it and that was that. If you didn’t hang onto the lower rail while you were taking your licks, then dad would use a leather horse rein and tie your wrists together, and then with your hands tied then you bent over the rail, and he looped the leather around the lower rung and after that you weren’t going anywhere no matter how hard you squirmed. Usually when one of the three of us was getting strapped, the other two had to watch, and I’ve watched my older brothers more times than not hanging over the hog fence, their balls swinging as my dad worked that leader strap up between their legs and across their bottom until both cheeks were flame red.

We didn’t get strapped all that often; so it’s not like it was an everyday thing. Dad didn’t strap any of us until we turned thirteen; he said the strap was a man’s punishment and if you didn’t behave as a teenager then you had it coming. Thomas got the strap at sixteen when he got caught smoking. Jeremy got it at 13 for stealing, and again at 14 for lying to mom. He always got his hands tied when he took the strap, cause he would always let go and grab his ass instead of laying there with his legs spread while the strap taught him the lesson.

When Thomas got caught fucking his girlfriend at 19 he got the strap again, and I’ll never forget the way my dad worked that thing on his ass that time. Yeah…sex outside of marriage was one of the big ones, and he strapped my brother’s ass for a good ten minutes. I remember that time well, because my brother’s dick was hard while he was being strapped, and that only infuriated my dad even more.

As for me, I got the strap twice at thirteen, but after that I just behaved myself and never had to feel it again. Still, when I was watching my older brothers get their bottoms lashed I usually grinned, and there was something sort of primal about the way they would jerk and pull and struggle as that piece of leather painted their buttocks cherry red. You didn’t forget a strapping after you saw one, or worse, felt one, and it did cause you to change your behavior that’s for sure. As a farm kid we just learned to respect authority, and I said “yes sir” to my dad without even thinking about doing anything else.

I was one of the good kids, as I wasn’t stupid, and I just figured out it was easier to behave myself, and so I somehow avoided the strap. But I feared it, that’s for sure, as did all of my friends.

Yeah, most of my friend’s parents also used the strap, because in school we would all swap stories, but my best friend in all the world had it worse than any of us. I had the chance to find that out for myself when I was sixteen; that’s when I got to see my best friend get it. I was over at the Kramer’s farm playing with Michael—we had gone squirrel hunting without any luck. Michael’s dad had died when he was a baby, but his mom ran their ranch with an iron fist and she was one woman everyone feared. She had hired a few hands to help her run things, but for the most part she knew what she was doing and she was a woman not to be fooled with.

I had always been polite to her, and been careful, and I was over there a lot because Michael and I were best friends. On the day I saw her strap my best friend it was all over his chores; when we went hunting together he had skipped out on his chores to do it, and so when we got back his mom was less than pleased. I watched him get strapped right in front of me, and I’ll never forget that because he was sixteen and I remember that I was staring and watching him as his mom took care of business.

Now, she didn’t exactly strap him herself, but she might as well have. For the deed itself she went and got one of the hired hands, and this big guy about twenty-five with forearms the size of hams came in and did the job. Yeah, that hired hand burned my best friend’s naked bottom. She had Michael toss his school jacket over a hog fence in their barn, then lay down over it, in about the same way my own dad did it to my brothers. The hired hand secured his wrists together too, just like my dad did, and then he secured them to the bottom rail.

It was all eerily similar to what my brothers got at home, except that when that guy started on my best friend’s naked ass he did it while his mom was yelling and cussing, and he worked that strap right across his cheeks, and into the recess of his crack as well. I’ll never forget watching that, watching Mike’s teenage balls swing as he struggled, and it wasn’t long before he was begging. I tried to leave, but she had insisted I stay, and so while I watched that man burned his naked bottom with that strap with a vengeance. Mike was totally at his mercy, and with his hands tied to that lower rail he was exposed and there was nothing left to my imagination. In a lot of ways his body was the body of a young man, but even so at sixteen he was crying by the time it was done like a ten year old, and I’ll never forget the way his ass bobbed up and down, almost as if he was fucking that fence rail right in front of his mom and me. That hired hand knew exactly what he was doing, and at the end he flicked the tip of the strap right against his hole about six times in a row, and I think that caused Mike’s entire body to jerk and shake, and then he tossed his head back and his eyes went really wide. His hole started to wink at all of us, and as it did he started grunting then, and when he did that she just laughed, and then right after that the hired hand just tossed the strap over my friend’s ass and walked out of the barn. What they knew and what I soon discovered is that Mike had shot his spunk at the end, and I’d never seen a punishment like that, never in my life, and compared to what my brother’s got Mike’s punishment was in a entirely different league. When I went to untie him that’s when I saw it, that he had ejaculated onto his jacket during his punishment. He was so humiliated, and his face was as red as his ass. I didn’t say anything but we both knew what he had done and I got him a rag to wipe up the goo.

When I went home I jacked off just thinking about it. I didn’t see him for a couple of weeks except at school, but the next time I was over at his place he mentioned it, and then we were just staring at each other in a strange sort of way. I’m still not sure what happened next but I told him that I didn’t mind that he had cum, and I admitted that I had jacked off afterwards after I had watched him shoot his spunk. I don’t know why I shared that with him, but then after I did the next thing I knew he asked me if I liked guys, and I hesitated, and then nodded very slowly. That’s when he said: “I figured you did.”

Then he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down to my knees. Things just happened then, and he unsnapped his jeans and his cock sprang out and then without any hesitation I just sucked him off until he spurted his jism and I swallowed his teenage seed.

He didn’t return the favor, so I jacked off while he watched. I went home and didn’t know what to say then, but after that he was on my mind constantly. At school he didn’t say anything, and so I wasn’t sure where things stood. I knew it was one sided, and he had a girlfriend at school and they seemed to get more serious right after that, and soon he was dating her whenever he could so I wasn’t sure where we were going.

Finally, after a couple of weeks I invited him over and he came, and when we got together in my barn and were finally alone I asked him if he was mad at me. He said: “Mad? Nope…not at all.” Then, sure as shit, he asked me to suck him again, and I did, and after that it was soon my favorite game. I begged him to suck me, and he licked me once, for a few minutes, but then all I could get him to do was to jerk me off after I had sucked him dry.

Still, it was something. He was always talking of his girlfriend, and how he was going to fuck her soon, and yet whenever we would get together he wanted me to suck him off. Sometimes he would close his eyes and pretend I was her, calling me by her name. That always pissed me off.

I would be sucking him, and he would roll his head back, and with his eyes closed he would say: “Yeah…that’s it Kathy. Yeah…that’s it. Suck it…yeah…just like that. Oh yeah baby….suck my cock. Suck my cock and make me cum!”

I didn’t like him pretending I was his girlfriend, and I almost stopped sucking him because of it. But, I liked the feeling of his dick when he shot, and I loved the taste of his jism even if I was just playing out his girl fantasy as he was enjoying his blowjobs.

He didn’t acknowledge our game, and at school or everywhere else he just acted like nothing special was going on between us. Now, this wasn’t something we did all that often, mostly because we were both too damn busy with our farm chores and didn’t live all that close together. Now, we both knew it was wrong of course, I mean, guys just don’t do stuff with guys, but that didn’t stop either of us from wanting to do stuff whenever we were together, and by the time we were seventeen we had the game pretty much figured out. I would suck him dry, and he would pretend I was his girlfriend. Now, I had this weird idea that I wanted to fuck him. I had never fucked anyone, and didn’t have a girlfriend, but as a farm boy I was constantly aware of all the animals and their fucking, and doing “IT” was certainly on my mind, probably the way it is on the mind of every seventeen year old teenage boy who has ever lived. But he wasn’t into that, and so it was just this fantasy, this need that could not be truly satisfied by jacking my cock with my fist.

Then, when he was seventeen and a half he ask me if he could borrow two hundred dollars from me. He was working on a set of wheels, and I figured if he got a pickup I’d have a chance to see more of him, not less, and I had the money saved so I loaned it. But when I did I said to him, “I’ll give you the money, but you gotta pay it back to me by my birthday. If you don’t, then you bend over and I get to fuck you.”

He had laughed, but agreed, and after that it was sort of this unsaid thing we both shared, and I would kid him about it. He was working chores to pay me back, and he had the full intention to do so, and so I didn’t honestly believe I’d ever mount his hole. But I wanted to, and I fantasized about it. Well, a week before I turned eighteen he had the money, but then he wrecked the farm tractor and his mom was really pissed. She took his money to get it fixed, all of it, and his dream for his pickup went into the trash. And, with only a week before my birthday things were looking up for my fantasy to become reality.

Now, he and I were both teenage boys, but we were as different as night and day. For one thing, he liked girls, and I liked guys. For another, he was growing the beginnings of a beard, with hair on his chest and a thick patch above his groin. His thick pubic hair accentuated a fat cock, and he was well into manhood. His nuts were always tight and pulled up in his sack. In contrast, I was still going through puberty, and I wasn’t shaving yet and except for a sparse bit of hair above my cock and two little patches under my arms I was as smooth as a much younger boy. My cock wasn’t all that big either, although it was long enough. But even at six inches, it was thin, like a boy’s pole instead of a man’s and I just hoped it would get thicker eventually. But I did have a good set of low hanging balls, that would swing beneath my legs like a bulls nuts swing, and I was proud of them. But except for my big set of nuts, I was somewhat embarrassed about looking like a younger teen, but still I had sex on my mind and I liked jacking off a lot and my bullocks seemed to produce a lot of seed. When I came I would always shoot a big load, and I loved grunting it out.

As for fucking my friend, of course he tried to beg his way out of it, saying he would get me the money but needed a little more time, but I wanted him bad, and I wasn’t into letting him off. I looked him right in the eye and said: “Michael, you made the deal, and a deal is a deal. I want the money, or you. I’m coming over next Saturday, on my 18th birthday, and you pay up one way or the other.”

Now, farm boys have a creed, and paying your debts is one of the rules, even if it means bending over a bail of hay and letting your best friend mount your ass. Yeah, even that. And so, on my eighteenth birthday, I got to do what I had wanted to do since I could remember thinking about it. Now, before he took off his pants Michael made a big deal to tell me that he had just fucked Kathy the previous weekend, and so this didn’t mean anything. But I could have cared less how many girls he had fucked. His ass was mine, and I wanted it. He looked at me, and bit his lip, but then he said: “OK…OK. I’m gonna let you do it, because you’ve been wanting it for so long. It’s just because of the money I owe, and I’m not a welcher. But this is a one time deal. Just go slow—I don’t want it to hurt.”

OH FUCK. God I got hard. Rock hard. It was just him and me in his barn, and I was smart enough to know that if he was getting it with his girlfriend I figured he wasn’t gonna need my lips on his cock much longer. So, this was a real treat and opportunity, and as I stood there looking at him I was rock hard and more eager than I had ever been. He surprised me even more because he sucked me for a few minutes until I got even harder; yeah, I’ll never forget that either, and then I literally jerked off his jeans and within a few minutes I had him over a bail of hay. I used a lot of udder cream for lube, as it was handy, and then I slowly pushed my slicked up cock into my best friend’s ass. Soon I was slowly sliding in and out of his oh-so-tight ass, my big teenage nuts slapping against my best friend’s hole. He had his head arched back, grunting as he took my thin six inch pole all the way to the hilt.

I don’t now how long we fucked, but not all that long, and I just didn’t have a lot of control as it was my first fuck of my life. I wanted it to last, but I was unprepared for how tight he was or how hot he was, and so suddenly I just shot my wad, filling up his ass with my jism, and as I pumped it out I savored the feeling. He too ejaculated, and we came together he and I, my load shooting into him as I felt the rhythmic contractions of his groin as his own nuts spewed out his seed and squirted into the bale of hay he was laying over.

Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, we both heard the distinct sound of a shell being chambered in a pump 12 gauge. I spun around, still buried to my balls in his ass, and the same hired hand that had strapped my friend at sixteen was staring down the barrel. For a second I was certain he was going to blow my head right off. I screamed “Don’t Shoot!” and pulled out, and he took in my dripping cock and my best friend’s just-just fucked hole. I knew right then I was dead meat.

I tried to talk, but she said “SHUT THE FUCK UP QUEER BOY!”

Time seemed to stand still, and I had no idea what to do. I raised my hands up high, hoping like hell he woudn’t pull the trigger. Michael stood up and started yelling: “He fucked me! I didn’t want him to…but I owed him. I owed him money and he made me! He made me!”

I was so stunned I didn’t know what to say!

Then Michael went for his jeans, but the hired hand said: “Don’t bother Michael. You’ve earned a strapping, as has your friend. You can put them back on after I’ve burned your bottom.”

I tried to turn, I think to run, but he yelled “DON’T MOVE YOU PERVERT—YOU MOVE AND I’LL KILL YOU!”

I tried to talk then, even if I didn’t know what to say, but he told me to shut the fuck up. Then, he looked at my friend, and said: “You OK Michael?”

He nodded, and said: “Yeah….it was a bet. I didn’t have any choice! It’s not what you think! I owed him two hundred dollars, and, and I had to pay or let him.”

He looked at him, and then at me. Then he said: “I don’t think your mom would be too pleased bet or no bet. “Get the rope…tie his writs together, and then he’s gong over the fence, cause he’s got a strapping coming. I’m gonna strap the skin right off of his ass. And your’re getting it too, unless you want me to call your mom instead.”

I was scared shitless. I didn’t know what do! I hadn’t been strapped in a damn long time….but at the same time I figured that if my dad found out I’d for sure be getting the strap, and so the idea of being strapped for fucking my friend for sure didn’t seem all that out of line. And, while I knew it was going to be a strapping to be remembered, I figured maybe, yeah maybe, if I was really lucky my dad might not hear about it, especially if the hired hand didn’t call Michael’s mom. So, I let my best friend tie my hands, while the hired hand watched and made sure he did it tight, and then he bent me over the hog fence, so that my hands were down near my ankles and that’s where he tied them, to the bottom rail. After that I didn’t have many options.

Then, the hired hand said to Mike: “OK…you too. Over there, in the corner. Over the fence, and get your ass perched up nice and high. You’ve got a strapping coming that you’re not ever gonna forget!”

I couldn’t see all that much of Michael as the fence he was leaning over was across the barn, but I could hear him as he bent over the fence, and the man who was going to punish him tied him in place. With my head near my knees I could just make out the top of the fence, and I had a view of Mike’s upturned bottom, totally exposed and now, like mine, just waiting for the strap. But there was a bail of hay in the way, so I couldn’t see all that much. But it didn’t matter. We were both gonna get our ass’s blistered, and that was pretty fucking obvious.

Then, the hired hand came back to me, with two shorter ropes in his hands, and he put one loop around each ankle, and tied my legs out so that they were in an inverted “V”, spread apart, which exposed everything of course and made it crystal clear that I was totally exposed for a very thorough strapping. I had never seen that done before, and it was not a good feeling, but at that point there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

I said: “Please mister…please man. It’s not what you think. I swear.”

Then he said: “Shut the fuck up. I know what I saw. I’m gonna burn your fag ass, and I’m not gonna listen to you beg like a wimp.” Then, he reached down and pulled my right sock off, and shoved it in my mouth. Then he ripped off a long piece of duct tape, and wrapped it around my mouth, and after that I was pretty much gagged and the only sound I could make was a mumble. After he had gagged me he stood back and looked at me, and that’s when he said: “There. Damn. Look at those balls. Fuck, your hung, just like a bull calf. I’ll have to give you that, you’ve got an impressive set of balls. Well, too bad you don’t know what there for. Enjoy the gag–I don’t want to hear you yelling when I’m strapping you.”

From across the barn I heard Michael: “Thomas…listen. IT was just a bet….I lost. I…I mean…I don’t think that you…”

“SHUT UP MICHAEL. GUYS DON’T FUCK GUYS! I either handle this, or I get your mom. You got that? Do you want your mom to know her son opened his hole for a faggot?”

I heard Mike say “No…oh God. Please man…just don’t tell mom. Please don’t tell mom!”

Then the hired hand went back to where Mike was tied over the fence, and he said: “OK Michael, I think you are right. Cause if I tell her what I saw today I think it would kill her. I thought you had a girlfriend? You queer too?”

He shook his head. “No man…I’m not. Kathy’s my girl…you’ve met her man! I’ve fucked her twice man! I swear! Hell, I just fucked her last Saturday! Oh please…OH GOD. It was just a bet. It was his idea man, and I had to let him…I had to! I’m not a queer!”

“Well, OK. But I know what I saw. I’m going to strap you, and I’m gonna strap him and I owe your mom enough to teach both of you a lesson. You’re gonna get burned boy, and so is your friend. I know what I saw, and he fucked you…he fucked you like a girl and you had your legs spread!”

Then, he said: “You’re getting your socks stuffed in your mouth too. I don’t want you guys yelling…your mom might hear and I don’t think we want her in the middle of this mess. I’m gonna strap you hard, and you need to keep quiet. Some things just need to be handled by a man.”

He gagged Michael then, and I could tell it had been done because Mike was mumbling and it was clear he was eating his socks just like I was. Then, that having been taken care of, the big man picked up the leather strap, and whipped it through the air, and it seemed to sing. Suddenly, he brought it down onto Mike’s upturned ass, and as he did it literally lit him on fire.

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

“URGHHHHHHHHH!” Mike yelled into his gag, and after that the blows just started raining down, one after the other. I could hear the fence shaking, and Mike begging, his cries muffled and yet it was clear he was begging even so. His strapping went on and on and on. I couldn’t see it, but I could tell my friend’s bottom was getting redder and redder, and there was no mercy at all in his strapping. By the time it was over Michael was whimpering like a baby, a well spanked little boy and totally defeated.

Now, it was my turn.

The hired hand came to me, and his face was painted in anger. I was gagged, spread and tied down, bent over the fence and with my ass exposed and ready to be punished. It was not a good position to be in when you have just turned eighteen. It is not a good position to be in at all.

He didn’t keep me waiting.

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

I’ll never forget that strap, and the way he slammed it into me. He struck every single inch of exposed skin, and I jerked and thrashed and twisted and turned while that red neck ranch hand burned my bottom. It just went on and on and on, and eventually the tears came and even so there was no let up. He strapped my buttocks, and he strapped my inner legs. He strapped my entire ass until it was cherry red, and he finally strapped my hole, again and again and again, until it too was puffed up and thoroughly punished. He knew just how to flick the tip into that spot, with a well-practiced motion, and I think if I hadn’t just shot my wad into my best friend’s ass I might have even ejaculated again. But thankfully, I didn’t. Finally, it was done. I just lay there with my eyes closed, the tears flowing out, sobbing and with the snot dripping from my nose. I was well spanked, and my entire ass was on fire.

Suddenly, I felt him fondling my big sack of nuts, and before I even knew what was happening my scrotum was in his fist and for a second I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I opened my eyes, and because the way I was bent over I was staring right between my legs, and there, in his fist, was my set of balls. Hanging from his wrist was an EZY Livestock Castration Tool, and his fist was holding my scrotum and I could see he had already slipped the loop of rubber up and over my scrotum as he had grabbed it. OH GOD HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING AND HE WAS GONNA BAND ME! I tried to scream, but my socks were still stuffed in my mouth, and I started shaking and jerking and pulling against the ropes that held me spread-eagled. He was going to geld me like a bull calf! OH GOD!

He laughed, and then he winked at me, and as he did he moved his wrist and there was this SNAP, and suddenly the band was free of the jaws of the banding pliers, and as it snapped closed above my balls it cinched off the blood supply in that single instant just exactly like it was designed to do! HE HAD BANDED ME! OH FUCK! He was really doing it! He was castrating me! I had banded my share of animals of course, and I knew exactly what was happening. I could see the little rubber donut there, all cinched down now and literally killing my balls, just as I had seen it kill so many animal scrotums over the years I had been on the farm. It was designed to kill the balls on a bull calf up to 350 pounds, and there was no doubt at all that it if stayed around my nuts then it was definitely going to do my own balls in and that was a certainty. OH FUCK! NO! NO! I was surprised, as it didn’t hurt all that much, but I KNEW what it was doing, and I fought with every single muscle in my body. I tried to scream, and I shook my head side to side, but he just patted my rear and said “It’s ok little guy…don’t worry….you’ll be better off without your balls and by morning you’ll be a steer. Your days of boy fucking are over.”

I jerked to get free with every single muscle in my body, but the ropes around my ankles were tight, and my legs were spread and there was nothing I could do to get them free. Likewise, my wrists were secured well to the bottom rail of the fence, and I was bent over, my flame red ass up in the air, and now my banded nuts were hanging down between my legs and were literally being strangled. OH FUCK I WAS BEING CASTRATED JUST LIKE A BULL CALF AND THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO ABOU IT!

Then, he stood up behind me, and slowly started to run his right hand over my naked ass. He felt the skin, ran his hand up between the crack of my cheeks, and then hefted my banded balls and I could feel him there, fondling the individual testicles like plumbs ripe for the picking, which were now being starved of blood. He picked up my cock, and as hard as it is to believe I had a full boner. For some stupid reason my cock had gone hard as soon as the band has snapped around my balls. I don’t know why really, but my cock was as hard as a piece of steel, almost as if it sensed the need to get hard while it still could. OH FUCK I WAS HARD AND MY BALLS WERE DYING!

Then he said: “Wow…for a new steer, you sure have an eager dick! The end of it is slick with sperm—you’re dripping. Hell, I think you like being castrated.” Then he licked his lips, and then he said: “You know little fella, that little hole of yours seems pretty tight. Did your pencil dick like fucking Michael’s ass?”

As he said the word “ass” he shoved his finger into my hole, and I arched my back and grunted. Fuck! I had never had anything up my ass, ever, and when I shuddered it made him laugh. Suddenly he was unbuckling his jeans, and before I knew it his big cock, a monster cock really, sprang up and eager. Next to his massive rod, my cock looked like a boy’s pole. OH GOD. HE WAS GOING TO FUCK ME!

Then he said: “You know…I could never fuck a guy. Never in a million years. But you aren’t a guy anymore really; no…you’re well on your way to becoming a steer; and your hole sure looks eager for it. In fact, with your balls banded, it kind of reminds me of a pussy. I think you ought to at least learn what Michael had to suffer through, don’t you?”

I shook my head and screamed, but it didn’t make any difference. There was nothing I could do, and then, without really any warning, he just pushed the big head of his cock right up against the entrance to my bowels. And, a few seconds after that, he leaned forward, and then he slowly slid into me until he was buried to his balls.

I felt like he was gonna split me in two. God he hurt! He didn’t care of course, and then once he was all the way in then he fucked me, with long hard strokes, ramming his cock deep into me with each thrust. He fucked me like an animal, hard and fast, and as he was doing the feeling in my nuts was a mixture of pleasure and a deep primal ache. He fucked me deep and hard, and he was slamming me up against the fence as he penetrated the depths of my soul. Suddenly I was cumming, the sperm shooting out of my stiff cock with a vengeance, in what was probably one of the biggest orgasms of my entire life. I was coming from a man’s cock in my ass, and without anything touching my own dick! God! I wasn’t in control of anything, and my body seemed to just jet out sperm, in spurt after spurt after spurt, almost as though my cock was trying to fertilize something, while my balls were still half alive and able to produce a load of semen. My cock was so stiff and it was pointed right at my face as I was staring at it, so I ended up shooting my wad onto my own face, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. I didn’t want to cum, but I came anyway, and I shot the biggest load of my life, perhaps as if my balls knew that it was their last. Whatever the reason, I came and came and came, and as I was coming he felt the rhythmic contractions of my sexual muscles and they in turn stimulated his own cock and so as much as I wished it wasn’t so the reality was that it was my own orgasm that put him over the edge.

He tossed his head back and yelled “OH FUCK YEAH….GOD YOU ARE TIGHT! I’m CUMMING STEER BOY!” Then he opened his eyes and starting jetting his sperm into my hole even as I too continued to ejaculate. I felt so defeated, like a concurred enemy, my tormentor’s seed deposited into the depths of my being like my hole was nothing more than a cheap whore’s pussy, there only for his pleasure. He savored every single moment of his orgasm, his nuts feeling maximum pleasure as he shot his wad, while my own balls ached in a way I cannot describe, noosed off from my body and literally dying on the vine.

He stayed inside of my rectum for probably a good five minutes, until his cock softened and slid out on his own. He clearly had enjoyed every single second of fucking me, and it was so damn unfair! He laughed, and as he zipped up his jeans I could feel his sperm literally running out of my hole. He had filled me with his jism!

Michael couldn’t see what had happened, but he could tell something had, and he was grunting and mumbling in his gag.

The hired hand then said: “Shut the fuck up over there, unless you want another round with the strap. I mean it. You say one more word, and I’ll strap your ass all over again.”

Then he slapped me on my ass, and hefted my banded balls one last time. Then he said: “I’m gonna go do some errands, as I need to gather up some stuff. You boys just sit tight, and enjoy yourselves. Somebody will be around in a little while. For now, I think you need to savor the lesson I have taught you two.”

He left then, and after that I hoped for a miracle. I had the thought he would might come back and cut off the band, and so I just waited and hoped like hell he wouldn’t wait too long. It was something to hope for, that he had only wanted me to think he was going to really castrated me. But pretty soon my nuts started to go numb, and I knew time was running out, and so I jerked against the ropes and struggled as hard as I could to get free, but I couldn’t get loose and there was nothing I could do to stop my castration.

I kept hoping, while my own spunk dried on my face, but nobody came to rescue me, and so I stayed there over that fence, my legs spread wide and that rubber donut cinching off my nuts. With the socks in my mouth I couldn’t call out to Mike, and apparently he couldn’t get free either. The tears came, and I knew it was for real. I was being castrated, and I was powerless to stop it. It was a long night. Finally, I heard the roosters start to crow at the crack of dawn, and felt the chill of the morning air. My nuts quit aching long before that, and as I stared at them I slowly watched them turn a darker color, and by the time the sun was up it was clear they were dead. The band had done its job, just like it was designed to do, and it was clear to me that I had been nutted, just like all of those animals I had nutted over the years I had grown through adolescence. The truth was that as a new 18 year old, I’d never have the chance to be a man. Yeah, the sad truth was that there was no doctor on earth that could save my balls now.

I cried and felt sorry for myself, but there wasn’t anything that I could do. I was tied out and banded, and so I waited, like a young steer waits, his dead nuts hanging down like useless orbs, dark and dead and just waiting to fall off. It was a horrible feeling, and laying there knowing you’ve been castrated was a terrible feeling that really can’t be described. My dead nuts were right in front of my face, and I had seen enough banded animals in my lifetime that I knew it was hopeless.

Michael’s mom came into the barn around 8am and found both of us, and she screamed and started cussing, and then she untied Mike and then me from the fence. She was clueless, but she wasn’t stupid, and could tell we had both been thoroughly strapped. Of course she saw the band right away as well, and she knew I had been nutted and it was crystal clear to her that my balls were already dead. I wanted to cut the band right off, but she stopped me, knowing that I needed to go to the hospital and let the doctors do it. Of course she had a lot of questions. When I told her the farm hand had done it to me she called the police. I didn’t tell her why; I mean, I didn’t see any point in telling her that I had fucked her son, and as it turned out I never told anyone. I mean, what good would it have done, and Mike sure didn’t want her to know.

The other thought I had was that it was still possible if my dad found out then I’d probably get strapped all over again, even though I had up and got myself castrated. So, yeah, some things are better left unsaid. I ended up in the hospital, but they couldn’t give me back my nuts of course, and in fact they ended up removing the entire scrotum to prevent gangrene from setting in. And of course the local sheriff never found the hired hand. All his stuff was gone, and he wasn’t stupid and hadn’t stuck around after he had had his fun and banded me.

The weird part of all of this is that Michael and I stayed friends. And what’s even weirder I suppose, is that I still suck him off on occasion. I guess his girl isn’t into oral, and so when he gets really horny I will suck him dry, and when I do he calls me by his girlfriend’s name and pretends my lips are hers. Sometimes, if he is really horny, and she hasn’t been spreading her legs for him, he will mount me instead. I don’t know, but I guess as a ball-less eunuch my perspectives have changed somewhat, and suddenly that doesn’t seem all that wrong anymore. Just before he cums in my ass he usually yells out her name, and then he tosses his head back and fills me with his seed.