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Ayzintion City - The Stringmaker This story forms yet another tale in the series that has come to be known at Ayzintion City. The series is written in such a way that it doesn’t really matter which story you read first, yet even so, they all form the tale and they are all written about the same, magical place that is found only in my mind. As a reminder, Ayzintion City is a place like no other place on earth. It is city where the slave traders come, and the slave buyers come, and the entire city with its ancient buildings and associated businesses are all linked to the trade. It is a place where the Eastern Province and the Southern Province converge, and sometimes the slave auctions will trade as many as a thousand boys in a single week. Ayzintion City has existed since the first maps were drawn, and while it is well known among those that deal in human flesh it is almost unheard of outside of that elite circle. The city is hidden in the mountains, and it is surrounded by water and deep ravines. Unless you know the way into the city, you would never be able to find it. The majority of all slave trading that is done has its roots to Ayzintion, and if you are interested in buying or selling or you need to find a boy to own it is there that you will be drawn. My name is Bacus Viticas, and I make the strings. Some call them gut strings, and other’s refer to them just as “ties,” but whatever you call them they are the key to a successful castration and in Ayzintion City my business is booming. I am well known, as are my strings, and I take pride in their construction and I get a great deal of joy in watching them being used. My trademark is the dye, as I dye them in two colors once they have been made. The blue strings are for the younger boys, the ones whose scrotums are tender and soft, and the red strings are for the older ones, whose balls are bigger and whose scrotal skin is thicker and more resistant to being tied. When used properly in the hands of an experienced cutter there isn’t a scrotum on any man or boy that my strings cannot strangle. Sometimes just the sight of one of my strings is enough to panic a slave, and I’ve watched more boys than can be counted with their eyes wide and begging, as they pull against the straps that spread their legs and fight to keep one of my strings from being looped up and around their bags. They don’t like that! I especially enjoy those few seconds, just before the ends are pulled and the slave’s bag is cinched closed, where the struggling slave is aware that one of my strings is around his balls, and that soon it will be closed tight and his manhood then will be stolen from him. Oh the power of a single tie! If the boy can see his balls he will stare at the string there, and as he does and feels it and waits for it he will struggle like there is no tomorrow coming. For those few seconds, my strings are the most important thing in the world. Yes, my strings are legendary, and they work and work well. I use only the finest leather and I make them all from the tanned hide of bull cattle. I think it is appropriate that the strings have come from an animal with balls, and so I always get my leather from the biggest and most powerful male animals I can find. The blue strings are thinner than the red ones, made from the layer of skin along the backbone to which we add in a few strands from the rubber plant. There is a soft resilience to it once it is finished, so that it stretches when it is pulled like no other material on earth. When looped over a boy’s scrotum and pulled tight, the leather stretches as the tie is made, and when the ends are released it snaps back, cinching down on the balls and noosing them completely. In a way, as soon as one of my blue strings has been knotted, the boy is all but castrated, as his balls are separated from their blood supply and are effectively dying even before the knife is brought into play. The blue strings can be broken though, especially by an inexperienced cutter, and they are softer than the red ones and are less suitable for the bigger sets of balls. You can’t jerk the ends too hard for one thing, and so when you’re looking at nutting big scrotums stuffed with hen-sized eggs then another string is called for. For those bigger sets of balls I manufacture a red one, and it is designed to use when taking the balls from a fully grown man. I make the red ones from the outer layer of animal skin, where the leather is thicker, and then I dry it carefully and shape it right to give it the texture that will insure success. The red strings are sometimes just called “loops” because they are thick enough to retain some shape to them, and usually the cutter will form the loop and lay them over his hand as he goes down the line and does the big slaves one after the other. Unlike the blue ties, the red strings have no embedded rubber and therefore no stretch to them, and you can pull on the ends as hard as you want and they will never break. Never! Many a grown man has felt his balls being snapped closed with a hard jerk of a red tie. When it is done it will usually cause a shudder to run through the man whose nuts are being noosed, and they will usually arch their back and toss their heads to the air when they feel its bite. Most cry out too, with a deep primal almost inhuman cry when they feel one of my red ties digging into their balls. Once they feel it they can’t believe it of course, and I’ve seen enough castrations to know that it must hurt like hell. No man likes to lose his balls, and yet when their bags are introduced to my strings lose them they do! Since the red ties do not have any stretch, they are sold wetted, in a brine solution, so that when the tie is made the water is squeezed out of the tie as the knot is closed. The result is that the leather will start to shrink as soon as it’s been done, and as that happens the knot will close even tighter. In the dry air of the market the knots will close upon themselves by a factor of three, and that process starts immediately as the knot is made. Most of the shrinkage takes place in the first hour. Of course, the slave’s balls are usually long gone by then! Depending on how his bag has been emptied it is possible that all that will be left between a slave’s legs is the small knot of skin still held closed by the leather. My ties don’t come off, and I take pride in watching how well they do their job. There are other string makers in the city of course, but mine have the color trademark and are the most popular. Occasionally a cutter tries to save money and use an inferior tie, but things can go badly if a bound scrotum becomes loose, and more than one slave has bled to death when a tie has come off before it is time. My ties are known to stay knotted, and they will crush the top of a scrotum completely, and consequently there is rarely any blood at all. My shop is small, but busy, and I use a dozen slaves to tan the leather and to make the ties. My workers are all eunuchs, as I think that only a worker who has felt a tie himself and knows what it can do can truly understand its importance. Besides, for whatever reason a eunuch is always interested when a man’s balls are to be taken, in a way that a man who still has his balls is not. Perhaps that accounts for the high quality of the ties. I do know that my workers make every single one very carefully, and the quality control I insist on has never been compromised. I love watching my strings being put to use, and it is actually good entertainment too. It’s very exciting watching a struggling male losing his balls and it can be interesting in many different ways to watch it being done. Most men enjoy such a show, at least as long as it’s not their own balls being tied. I spent yesterday at the market, like I generally do when it is busy, watching the boys and older men getting nutted and enjoying the site of my strings being brought into play. It was a typical market day, and close to three hundred slaves lost their balls yesterday. I was there early and watched much of the action. The multiple purchases are always my favorites, and the day started off watching one such group of four boys being nutted. I like watching it when a group of boys who have been purchased by a single owner are all being done one after the other, and so I took the time to watch them all be done. They were bought as a group, and went to the table that way, each of them dragged to the table and tossed up onto it, flat on his back. The crowd was giddy watching them, and the interest was keen as each boy was given his turn, lashed down to the table and then unmanned. The first of the four was the youngest. He was only starting his trip into puberty, with only a thin short little prickle, and a small, insignificant scrotum. To me he seemed to be eleven or maybe twelve at the most, and he was cute as hell. I especially liked his little boy dick, and his smooth chest and tiny nipples that emphasized his youth. He was just a boy. His dick was about the size of a man’s little finger and to me it seemed somewhat insignificant and did not hold the crowd’s attention. I’ll admit that it certainly had a few years of growing to do before it would thicken and look like a man’s, but I liked it just the same, and I kept my eyes on it as it bobbed up and down. Of course, without it’s balls, it would never be the prick it would have been, and as I watched it bobbing there on the boy, it certainly didn’t seem to be very important. Perhaps from the boy’s perspective he didn’t see it that way, but nevertheless I failed to see why he fought so hard. All he had was that thin little dick and those tiny balls, and they just didn’t seem worthy of the struggles he displayed. But, admittedly, he was at that moment still on the path to manhood, and there were a few wispy strands of hair starting to grow above his pole to prove it. His small sack of balls was just a boy’s bag though, and for the most part was totally smooth, and his chest and even his legs were as smooth as if they had been shaved. Almost as if to emphasize the insignificance of his small balls, he had a high pitched voice, and until they stuffed the rag in his mouth he was screaming like a scared little boy. I wanted to laugh when he saw my tie. Of course, it was one of the blue ones, and when he saw it being made into a loop he raised himself upward, so his head and shoulders were off of the table and he could better watch what was being done to him. Because it was early in the morning and he was the first one cut, he had no idea what was happening or what the string of leather was for, and I could see in his expression he was trying to figure it out when the cutter slipped it over his balls. He was staring downward, between his legs, and his eyes grew round when he watched the loop as it was placed over his balls. He figured it out then of course, and when he did he screamed into his gag. He was still screaming then in his high-pitched voice while the cutter pulled hard on the ends and cinched off the top of his sac. The boy grunted and shuddered as the knot went tight, and then in front of everyone his little prickle went fully hard, a cute little erection that bounced up and down as his balls felt the bite. The cutter hefted his tied sac then, and manipulated it within his hand. The boy thrashed as he was feeling that being done to him, fighting with all he had as he waited to be unmanned. Finally, using the tip of his curved knife, the cutter sliced into the boy’s bag and excised the boy’s stones one by one. The kid went crazy as he was being castrated, thrusting his hips upward into the air and jerking like a wild monkey as it was being done. As the cutter made the first cut the boy shuddered, and the end of his pole grew round and purple. I thought he might spill his seed, but he did not and I’m not certain he was cable of shooting any. Of course, without his balls he never would be, so his opportunity was lost when his balls were taken. The entire thing happened pretty quickly, and it only took a few seconds to steal his little stones, after which they pulled him from the table and dragged the next lad onto it in his place. As he was dragged away I noticed the long two ends of my tie that were now only noosing his empty bag, still hanging between his legs. In a very real way, it was one of my ties that unmanned him, and that made me smile. The second boy done was older, probably around sixteen or so, and his scrotum was much larger and filled with nuts that made his bag bulge to about the size of a fist. His prickle was longer as well, and it was laying flat on his belly when he was strapped to the table. Compared to the first boy the second slave was well on his way into manhood, and his patch of pubic hair was thick, although it was limited to a single small patch just above his pole. When the cutter picked up his bag and fondled it, the boy yelled into his gag, his voice much deeper than the first boys and it was clear to me that his voice was already being fueled by his balls. He was clearly a young man, well into puberty and with a powerful teenage body to match. But, like the boy before him, he too bent his neck and looked downward, watching the cutter as his nuts were being handled. When he saw the blue tie string he went into a panic, and unlike the younger boy who had just been neutered, it was obvious he knew what it was for long before it was looped over his scrotum. Having just seen what it could do, he was fighting with all his strength as it was brought into play for him, jerking against the restraints that held him fast to the table. He never stopped jerking with all of his might, at least not until the loop was made and the ends were pulled tight. Boy he sure didn’t like it when that was done! He screamed and his eyes went wide as he felt his balls being noosed. At the same time his prick rose off of his belly, and within a few seconds the boy’s teenage dick stiffened and was soon bouncing to his heartbeat. It seemed to quiver there, poised even, almost as if it was anxious, or excited perhaps, eager for the knife and for what was to be done. That all changed when the cutter sliced into his bag though, and as soon as he felt the knife he slammed his head back into the table, arching his back and screaming into his gag. At that same instant his dick squirted out his wad of boy jism, his seed shooting out in five white lines of cream up across his flat little belly. He ejaculated with a vengeance, even while his balls were being stolen, shooting out his last and final wad as a teenager. By the time his bag was empty his load was finished, and he collapsed then and was only semi-conscious as they dragged him off of the table. The third boy brought to the table was also in his teens, with bright blue eyes and blond hair. I guessed him to be fifteen or so, and he was probably from the western province. He had a thick prickle, which was proud and stiff even before he was lashed down. Of course, he had watched the other two being unmanned, and what was interesting to me about that was that his prick had grown stiff from doing so. Watching the others getting castrated had obviously excited him, and even when his own balls were being noosed his prick bounced and the end grew wet with anticipation. It was almost as if his cock wanted the balls below it to be taken. While his cock may have been eager, the boy who owned it was not. In fact, he was shaking his head side to side, staring at the cutter and looking around at the crowd, shaking his head and with his eyes wide and begging. Still, his prick was oh-so-thick, and for a teenager he had a hell of a bag and it was clear he was already quite a man. I felt it was a shame to nut him, as I think the slave boy would have made a good breeder. But his owner wanted him nutted, so he was nutted. When the cutter picked up his bag and laid the blue string around his nuts, the boy's pole bounced up and down, and started to ooze precum out the end like a man's cock does when poised at the entrance to a waiting pussy. I've never seen a boy more excited! His boner got the attention of the cutter too, and for whatever reason the cutter paused, and took the time to skin back the boy’s foreskin, exposing the end of his pole for everyone to see. The cutter then flicked his thumb over the tip of the boy’s dick, in a circular motion, sliding his thumb through the slime that was oozing out the single eye at the end of the boys prickle. The boy tossed his head back and moaned, pushing his hips upward and almost thrusting his pole into the cutters fist. When he did that the cutter just gripped the young man's teenage rod and pumped it, for a few quick strokes, and when he did that the boy’s pole squirted, just from the touch of the cutter’s hand and the anticipation of what was going to be done to him. The boy’s wad was thick and copious, but the cutter just ignored it then, dropping the boy’s ejaculating dick and going for his balls without any hesitation. As the boy struggled with renewed vigor and pumped his wad out of his dick, the cutter cinched the blue tie closed, and then the knife was brought into play and it was done. It probably only took twenty seconds to remove his stones, and as I watched it being done I kept looking at the boy’s seed that he kept pumping out across his belly. I think he ejaculated the entire time he was being castrated. It was a hell of a wad, but one wasted of course, the boy's final load of cream shot for nothing, although for those of us watching it added to the entertainment value of what we were seeing. The fourth and last of the four slaves was a beautifully handsome young man, with bright red hair and a freckled face that caught your attention. He was older, and I guessed him to be nineteen or twenty. From the reaction of his owner it was soon obvious he had been purchased with a different purpose in mind. I stared at the slave, and he started fighting hard as soon as they came for him. He had strong, defined muscles, and was pretty much through puberty, with a big, thick cock and low hanging balls. He was a man in every real since of the word, but unlike the boys who were destined for the kitchen and the house this one was going to the bedroom and would be spreading his legs and opening his hole. His owner made that clear when he had paid for him, and now with that knowledge the red headed slave was struggling with every single muscle he had. In fact, I think that he fought harder than the other three combined. In the end they got him down anyway and secured him to the table. He had a big sac, really big, and the cutter very properly used a red noose on his balls, and when the ends were snapped closed you could almost hear it the way it crushed and bit into the top of his sac. He grunted really loudly, and his eyes registered the shock. The way he was screaming it was clear that his balls meant a lot to him, and it occurred to me that he was so handsome that he was an obvious girl attractor, and in all probability he had almost certainly had the opportunity to use them on several occasions during his lifetime. His prick too was hard and stiff and eager as he took the tie. The owner then said to the cutter, quite loudly, “I want this one totally smooth, and make sure you take his bag. He’ll be spreading his legs for my sons, and for me, so I want him to know what we have taken from him. Also, it’s important that he shoots his cream before you take his balls. I’m no sadist, so when you do him do it quick, but I want to make sure he knows what he has lost so I want his balls empty then you steal them!” The cutter looked up and nodded, and then he dropped the boy’s bag and lifted his prickle in his hand instead. That surprised me, because I wasn’t expecting it. But then as everyone watched the cutter took the lad’s pole in his hand and pumped it up and down, milking it quite rapidly until the young man arched his back and shot out his cream. That only took thirty seconds or so, and I had to wonder how long it had been since the slave had been allowed to have that feeling. It has been a while I figured, because he came quick and shot a hell of a wad. As the red-headed youth pumped out his jism it was obvious that the slave was rocked with pleasure, his eyes wide and his toes curled inward as he pumped out his last load of cream for all of us to see. You could see how much he enjoyed it, and there was little doubt that in the years to come he would remember that moment and long for the feeling he would never have again. After his wad had been spilled on his belly, the cutter smeared the slave's wad through his patch of pubic hair, and then over his tied balls. Then, using the edge of his blade he shaved it off, even scraping the sides of his balls until they were as smooth as a silk purse. The lads sex hair came off easily, like a beard is removed from a man's face, and it was clear that the knife was razor sharp. Afterwards the slave looked like a much younger boy, and his cock looked funny growing out of a bald mound. Of course, as the cutter was shaving the young man's balls the youth was struggling hard, feeling the knife sliding over his nuts, and up and down and around them as the cutter twisted and turned his knife to scrape the skin and shave it smooth. After a few minutes the entire scrotum was as smooth as a baby's ass, and then with a different motion of the blade suddenly and without any warning the cutter made a deeper slice and in that instant he was castrated. In the end the actual castration was done with a single, quick slice below my tie, so that the slave’s entire shaved scrotum came off with one cut, his two orbs still trapped inside of it. The slave felt it as it happened of course, and he screamed, his eyes going as wide as two saucers when he saw his smooth bag in the cutter’s hand less than a second after the knife had been moved. I’ll never forget his expression, or the way my red string did its job so well. I don’t think he could believe it had been done, but yet done it was, and the look of disbelief on his face was something I’ll remember for a long time to come. I did lunch at one of the many eateries at the market square, and after a plate of fried balls and a beer to wash them down I was ready to see some more slaves being nutted. During lunch I learned of some prisoners the military was going to castrate, so after my meal I wandered down to the prison yards. Sure enough, I got there in time and was able to watch two soldiers lose their balls. That doesn’t happen very often, and so I was lucky to see it be done. I always get a kick out of seeing big, powerful men, who are built of solid muscle being unmanned. These two were deserters, and the law dictated that they be nutted. They were strong men, huge men really, with muscles that rippled and their hair cropped short and neat. According to what we could learn they had deserted their unit before battle and then raped a couple of young girls in one of the border towns before they were caught. I have little sympathy for soldiers who run from their posts, and no sympathy whatsoever for soldiers who rape the women and young girls of their enemy. I am not alone. The crowd was big, and we were all anxious to watch them get what they deserved. I got there just as they were being tied over a rail, side by side, and I always enjoy watching it when it is done from behind. What amazed me about these two was the strength of their legs, which were covered with bristly hair that accentuate their manhood. Their powerful legs were pegged out, wide apart, forming the big inverted “V” and exposing their scrotums for everyone to see, and of course making them easily accessible to the cutter’s knife as well. They weren’t gagged, and instead were left to yell and holler as much as they wanted while they waited for their nuts to be noosed. But, being soldiers they did not cry out, which I suppose is the expectation when a brave man is being punished. I could tell they wanted to act brave, and initially they said nothing and instead had a stoic expression all but painted on their faces. Still, I knew they were men with balls, and I wondered if their bravery would last when the knife started its work to take them from them. After the soldiers were tied down over the rail they were left there then, waiting for the arrival of the cutter and the end of their manhood. One of the soldiers was married, which was an additional surprise, and his family had come out to watch his punishment and was pushed to the front of the crowd, so they were standing just behind his ass. From the expression on his wife’s face she had no sympathy for him, and she even appeared anxious to watch justice be done. The man couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but his face was red with the humiliation of knowing she was there. After they were tied in position, the military announcer read the list of their crimes and their mandated punishment. He confirmed that each of them was both a deserter and a rapist. I kept looking at the wife and two boys, standing behind the married one, and it made for quite an image in my mind. It seemed strange in a way, but married or not, he had been sentenced with the other man to be castrated, followed by imprisonment of not less than ten years at hard labor. Of course, by law, his marriage would be ended when his balls were taken, and the older boy in the family would become the decision maker. While we waited for the cutter I watched the two men, and the woman and her son’s that were waiting with the crowd for it to be done. The boys were around twelve and fourteen, and it was obvious they fully comprehended what their father’s punishment was going to be. The older of the two had a wisp of a mustache growing across his upper lip, and in many ways he looked like a much younger version of the big man tied over the rail. It occurred to me as I looked at the two boys that soon enough they each would be far more of a man than their father would ever be again. Their mother had obviously brought them to teach a lesson, and no doubt they would see first hand the consequences of their father’s misbehavior. Being a military operation, the entire thing lacked the efficiency of the market square. In fact, we all waited for about fifteen minutes, and there was no explanation for it. It was interesting to me as I stared at the men spread over the rail that the entire time they waited the two men said nothing, although you could watch them pulling on their restraints and testing the bonds that secured them in position. When the military cutter finally arrived she was a woman, and that surprised me, as well as the men who were tied and waiting for her. The crowd burst out laughing when she appeared, and there was quite a bit of applause when we saw her. Of course, no man wants to be nutted, especially in front of a crowd, and it’s a hundred times worse when it is a woman who is going to do it. Both of their faces went red when they saw her, and it was obvious the humiliation of being nutted by a woman was adding to their misery. To make it even worse, this woman was young too, just a petit little woman that seemed fragile even, and if they had not been tied she would not have had the ability to do anything to them. She couldn't have been much older than seventeen. She had a big chest though, and she was dressed in a leather halter that seemed to lift and separate her tits, making them very pronounced and emphasizing to the men that she had something neither of them would ever enjoy again. She came around in front of them and stared each in the face, and when the married man glanced at her tits that single look was enough to cause his cock to rise from his groin. She noticed it immediately, and reached out and lifted it, holding it in her flat hand and just letting it rest there. As she did that it continued to grow harder and was soon jutting upward from his body, stiff and eager and growing straight upward from his nest of pubic hair right in front of everyone. His cock thickened too, and it gave the impression he was ready to mount her, although of course those days for him were long over and it was all a wasted effort. But his boys saw their father’s big boner, jutting there in the girl's hand, and I could see the two youngsters staring at it in amazement. She grinned at the two boys, and then dropped their father's rod and went to the man next to him. She picked up his dick, just like she had the married man’s, but it wasn’t hard and instead stayed soft resting like a wet noodle on the flat of her hand. His face went snow white and he look petrified. She ran her fingers across it, feeling it, touching the skin and hefting his pole but still it did not stir. Even thought she fondled it for quite some time there was no movement and it did not enlarge or thicken. Finally, she frowned, a look of disgust on her face, and then she dropped his wilted pole as if it was a piece of trash. After that the cutter walked around until she was behind the two men, and as she passed by the younger unmarried soldier he followed her with his gaze, so that as she went behind him he was bending his head around, watching her with his eyes wide. As she walked up behind him his face turned even whiter and the fear went through him and he was on the verge of panic. Even though I could see him staring at her tits as she reached up under him and placed one of my red loops over his nuts, his prickle hung down soft, the fear so great he was shaking. Her small hands seemed funny next to his big bag of balls, but they held one of my red ties and they knew what they were doing. The other man, the married one, had a full fledged boner. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to watch though, so instead he stared at the dirt in front of the rail, almost as if he was trying to concentrate on something, anything, to keep his mind occupied while the man next to him was done. His face was red, and perhaps his boner embarrassed him. I noticed that he bit his lip, hard, and my guess was he was trying to do what he could to keep from crying out. The man on the right was in his twenties, and he seemed surprised when the young girl reached for him and took his nuts into her hand. He started to speak to the cutter as she hefted his nuts, but his voice cracked and he didn’t get many words out before she snapped the ends of my tie hard, cinching off his sack, and cutting off his words in the process. “Listen.....don’t....please don’t! Let me talk to the commander...PLEASE! WAIT! GIVE ME A CHANCE! WAIT I SAY! PLEASE.... WAIIIIT... OH... OH.... NO! Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” he screamed, bucking his hips and swinging his soft pole through the air as his tied nuts swung between his legs. He bucked his hips so hard his soft cock slapped upward and hit his belly. The woman slapped her hand upward too, into his swinging sac, which made him grunt and got a good laugh out of the crowd. Then, with a laugh of her own she slapped his ass, hitting right across the left cheek of his ass after she had tied his balls. She made it clear she was in control and that seemed fitting to me. She then reached up under him and squeezed his bound bag, and as she did she said “Listen you limped dick bastard, you deserve this, so accept your fate. Don’t embarrass yourself! You’re all but nutted, so show a brave face and let it be done!” I thought for a second the man was going to vomit, and he squeezed his eyes shut and his face blanched white. Then he pissed himself, just losing control of his bladder and emptying it between his legs like a horse. He was as scared as any man I’ve ever seen. She held onto his bag while he urinated, shaking her head in disgust as she watched his stream. Finally, when he had emptied himself totally, she dropped his nuts and turned to the two boys who were standing behind their father. She smiled at them, and said “At least your father hasn’t pissed himself.” Then with a wink she moved to her left and hefted the married man’s balls, with a new string in her other hand that was meant for him. The married soldier was about forty, and like the first one as soon as she touched his bag he lost it then, and started begging. I had never heard of a soldier begging, even when they were being nutted, so having both of them beg like that really surprised me. Still, I suppose the realization of what was going to be done was just too much for them. “Please..........oh GOD...PLEASE! Don’t...DON’T! DON’T CASTRATE ME!!!! My wife....my wife is here and I have two sons! Please... PLEASE DON’T DO THIS---NOT IN FRONT OF THEM! PLEASE---PUNISH ME BUT NOT IN FRONT OF THEM!” The female cutter just grinned, and for an answer she snapped closed my red tie, hard, and as she did so the top of his balls slammed together into a single point, the leather tie perfectly noosing his nuts and separating his bag from his body’s blood supply in that single instant. The snap of the leather cut his words off in mid-sentence, just as they had for the other man, and it was obvious the shock of being noosed was more than either of them expected. The boy’s father stopped talking, but at the same time he started struggling so hard I thought the veins in his neck would pop. God he fought hard, jerking with every muscle to try and pull loose! He sure didn’t like his balls noosed like that, and his face flushed red with the humiliation of knowing it was being done with his wife and sons watching. Then, in a surprise move the young cutter took her hand and grabbed his stiff pole and pumped it one or two times, because she could, and as she held his dick she said “You are a randy one....but you should have saved your pole for your wife. Well, it’s too late now, so enjoy your erection soldier; it’s your last one!” When she dropped his pole is was even stiffer then, jutting up really, a thick, proud cock that seemed to emphasize his masculinity. He had a good nine inch erection, as hard as an iron rod, and it bounced up and down to his heartbeat. She ran her hand along the inside of his crack, toying with the hairs there, and as she did that he started to babble really, begging like a boy in a desperation I could hardly believe. She reached below him and grasp his scrotum, with a firm, hard squeeze, and as she did she said: “You gonna piss yourself too soldier? No? Well, just shut the fuck up and be brave for your boys. You deserve this, so be quiet and act like a man while I take your balls.” The man bit his lip then, and stared at the dirt in front of him, and his voice cracked one final time and after that he just whimpered, a soft heaving cry almost. She held onto his bag, and he bucked his hips wildly and seemed to hump the rail in his desperation. The other one struggled then too, perhaps inspired by the man next to him. I stared there, along with the crowd, watching the two big soldiers bucking their hips and fighting the feeling of having their nuts cinched closed by my ties. They grunted and struggled, fighting with all of their strength to avoid the knife that they knew was coming to open their bags and to steal their stones. There was quite a contrast between them. The married man on the left was in his forties, twice the age of the younger soldier, and as he struggled his thick boner jutted into the air, the purple end exposed and dripping. His face was red with shame, and he stared into the dirt. The man on the right was younger, with a hard, firm body, but his face was white and he was looking all around, in a panic and trying to follow the cutter and watch her every move. Unlike the man next to him his dick hung down and swung between his legs, flopping like a wet noodle from the fear that was consuming him. It was probably the boner that prompted her to decide to do the married one first and so she ran her hands over his rear, and then hefted his balls one more time. Then, without any comment, she pulled the knife from the scabbard on her waist. It was a very small knife, with a seemingly insignificant blade, but even so it was big enough to do in the strongest of men. She was holding his balls in her left hand then, with the knife in the right. Then, just before she pushed it into his bag, she turned to the man’s two sons, and said with a grin: “Boys, I’m going to steal your father’s balls now, and you should learn from this. Watch where you put your prickles, and obey the law. Otherwise, this is what could happen to you.” As she said the last word she pushed her blade right into the left side of their father’s big scrotum, twisting her wrist and opening up his bag with a single movement. I’ll never forget his expression when she did that, or the expression on his two sons that were watching it be done. The big man threw his head back and yelled “FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK” as she did it to him, and the boys' mouths dropped open in shock as they saw their father’s unmanning begin. The man being castrated started humping the rail even harder as she was nutting him, thrusting his cock in the air as if he was fucking a woman. He knew it was over then, and the look of fear was obvious and the desperation he showed was total. I thought it funny that his wife grinned as he was being castrated. At the very moment the cutter popped his left ball out of his bag the man grunted, and right afterwards his big prick ejaculated his wad, pumping out his jism and squirting it into the dirt between his legs. I don’t know why some men shoot their wad when they feel the knife, but more than a few do and he was no exception. His older son’s eyes went wide open when he saw his dad shooting out his jism, the man’s white spunk pumping into the dirt in white lines of cream. It was obvious to me that the boy knew and understood what he was seeing, and it occurred to me he was probably old enough to be jerking himself and shooting is own wads on a regular basis. The young boy seemed more surprised, with a questioning look, so I don’t think it had happened for him as of yet. In any event, I think both boys were surprised to see their father’s spunk. And, needless to say, the man’s wad was wasted of course, and there would be no more brothers or sisters for these two boys. As their father shot his last wad the cutter fished out his left ball and snipped it off without any hesitation, dropping the egg sized ball in the dirt. Then, she moved the man’s half-castrated scrotum in her hand and grabbed it at a new angle. He was jerking his head side to side and up and down, shaking it in disbelief as he was being castrated in front of his family. Without any hesitation she pushed the blade into the other side of his scrotum, and with a flick of the knife she opened up his bag with a quick well-practiced slice, and then fished out his last remaining ball. He had big nuts, and his right ball looked huge in her small hand. She moved her wrist, and as she did he tossed his head back one final time and screamed, and as he screamed the woman took his remaining ball, leaving him neutered and empty and after that it was done. She dropped his right ball in the dirt next to the left one, and there they were, between his legs lying in the puddle of spunk he had just ejaculated. The younger soldier who was still a man watched it all, and he went ballistic then, fighting so hard that the rail he was tied over even shook. His balls were also big, and hung down between his legs, loose and swinging, like a bull’s balls hang when the sun is high and the air is hot. Unlike the man next to him his prickle though was still hanging, hanging down like a long wet noodle, limp with his fear. His face was even whiter than before, totally pale, and I thought he might faint. His dick just hung, his hose swinging, and he didn’t show even the first part of an erection. It stayed soft, like a worm, at least it did until she grabbed his scrotum for the second time. This time, when she did that his eyes went wide open, and he tossed his head back, and from his expression it was obvious he knew then it was over. He sure didn’t want to lose his balls! As she held them and brought the knife up to them his voice cracked, and then in desperation he started to babble with a voice that cracked like a pubescent boys: “Wait! Oh GOD...please.....WAIT! PLEASEEEEEEE! For God’s please, at least give me another minute to remain a man! You’re a woman----OH GOD DON’T DO THIS TO ME! OH...OH.....NO! NOOO! OH GOD....OH...OH...do it quick!” I expected her to just push in the blade then, but instead she hesitated, and then she grinned. Then, very slowly she reached around, in front of him, and felt his scared pole. Taking it into her fist, she slowly began to fondle his soft tube of flesh, and as she did she said “Ok soldier boy....OK. Do it quick? Hahahah! I've never had a man ask me to do that! Never! Well, I'll tell you what, I'm going to let you feel a woman’s hand one last time. I'm not going to nut you until you squirt your load, but then, when you do, then I want you to beg me to take your balls. You got that? So go ahead, show the crowd here you’re a man, and make yourself hard and pump out a wad. Yeah! Go ahead, put on a show, but after you squirt remember you will beg me to take your balls!” He gasped, as he felt the woman’s soft hand on his limp cock. Then as she started stroking his meat he swallowed and his eyes went wide. I don’t know how long it had been for him, but it was obvious the feeling was intense and powerful. Still, he was scared shitless, and I didn't think he would go hard. But I was wrong, and with her soft touch his cock started to respond, and soon enough it thickened into a man-sized rod. His mouth was open, his eyes wide and staring, and I’m sure he didn’t want to grow hard, knowing the consequences and her promise to castrate him. But it was equally obvious he didn’t have that kind of control, and so even though he knew it would cost him his balls his dick grew stiff and hard, and the end soon flared big and purple. Once he grew hard it was all but over. He shook his head and struggled against his bonds, straining I think in hopes of holding off what no man can really control. In spite of his efforts, he lost the battle within a couple of minutes, and when the feeling overwhelmed him he closed his eyes and tossed his head back, and that’s when he shot out his wad. He grunted it out, a big powerful load of white jism just shooting out of his pole. She milked him until he was empty, and then she dropped his erection and without any hesitation she then pushed her blade right up and into his sac. He tossed his head back and screamed, and she laughed then and rotated her wrist and with a single motion popped his left ball out of his bag and into her hand, leaving the cord still attached to his body. Then she said “OK BOY....YOU SHOT YOUR WAD. NOW...EVERYONE'S LISTENING, AND IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO BEG ME TO TAKE YOUR BALLS!” He shook his head side to side, and yelled out “NO! OH NO! PLEASE... PLEASE DON’T CASTRA...... ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” She pushed the tip of her blade into the ball she was holding, twisting the tip inside of it, and as the same time she was squeezing the orb that was still attached to him with its chord. He screamed with a shrill, primal scream, that was almost animal like, a cry that was more than a boy's cry, and something less than a man's. Then, he tossed his head back, and with wide open eyes he yelled: OH... OH..... OK... OK..... OK..... Take them! OH GOD....JUST DO IT! PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE, CASTRATE ME!!!!!! DO IT QUICK!” When he said that she laughed, and flicked the knife and his ball fell into the dirt. Then, she stole his other ball, just as she had promised him she would do, and in only a few seconds it seemed his balls were no longer his and were hers instead. He collapsed over the rail after his balls were stolen, defeated, the two eunuchs resting there side by side, their excised balls in the dirt as testaments to what they had been. They were dragged down off the rail then by their fellow soldiers, and as I saw them being taken away I knew the next years in prison would not be good for either of them. Just before I left one of the military men who had been watching saw me, and knowing I made the ties he ask me if I wanted to see a group of opium dealers that had been introduced to my ties on a very personal basis. Being curious, I of course said “yes” and since I have grown nervous of the drug men’s influence within the city I was intrigued to find out what was being done to those that had been caught. He seemed excited to show me, and the next thing I knew I was soon staring into a cell where a half-dozen men of Slavic origin were being punished. As I looked at them my escort said: “These men are from Valanstina, in the eastern lands, and were caught smuggling a shipment of drugs into Ayzintion. The council has ordered their punishment, and all except the teenager will soon be slaves.” I stared at the men then, and they were staring back at me from their prison cell. I felt the anger well up inside of me, and my eyes flared with my hatred. I hate nothing more than men who deal drugs, and as I stared at them I felt the hatred build. They were all naked, and their arms had been tied behind their backs. What caught my attention wasn’t their nakedness as much as it was the red string that was tightly tied around the top of each of their scrotums. All of their balls were flushed crimson, a dark sinister shade of red that revealed that they had been noosed for a while and were no longer getting the blood they needed. I could hardly believe it, and as I took in the scene a smile crept across my face. None of the men were tied down, and they were not over the rail or pegged out on a castration table. Typical of drug traders, I’d guess their ages were mostly in their mid-twenties, with the oldest of the group probably thirty or so. There was a single teenage boy in the group, a kid who I was told was just eighteen, and he was staring at his balls with wide open eyes and tears running down his cheeks. The teenager had a small confined patch of pubic hair, and it seemed to accentuate his youth. None of them were too happy, which was understandable since they were in the process of losing their balls. The boy held my attention, as he had a smooth chest and a thin cock, typical of a teenage boy who was coming into manhood. What made him especially stand out was that he was the only one in the group that sported an erection, and it looked funny jutting up from his tiny nest of hair. The men were all free to move about, and really the only apparent thing that had been done to them was to have had their balls noosed, and their hands tied behind their backs. My eyes took in every one, and sure enough every single one of them had their scrotums cinched closed with one of my red ties. It was obvious they were in pain. And, it was obvious too that with their nuts tied the way they were they each knew they were slowly being unmanned. They all had that look of desperation, the sense of loss and depression that only a man being slowly castrated can fully understand. I figured they had at most an hour left, if that, before it would be too late and their balls would be dead. Unless their ties were removed quickly then their scrotums would eventually turn black, literally, and soon enough each of them would have a sac of dead balls hanging down between their legs and at that point of course they would no longer be men. My smile turned into a grin and my grin turned into a laugh. I found it thrilling to see, and I really enjoyed seeing that my strings alone were costing these drug men their balls. As I approached closer to their cell to get a better view they turned to me, and started to beg me but when they saw my face and heard my laugh they quickly realized there would be no sympathy coming from me. I laughed even louder when I looked closer at their noosed balls, and then after that I just stared and grinned. There is nothing like seeing a deserving man’s balls being noosed to death, and this time it was only my ties that were doing the work. Up until that moment I had never seen a man tied and left with the tie in place, without someone opening up his sac and taking his stones with a knife a few minutes after it was done. I found it very interesting to watch, and it was obvious that they were in great discomfort and yet there was nothing they could do to undo what was happening to them. One of the men, with dirty blond hair and who seemed to be about twenty-five or so, was trying anyway, kneeling on his knees, and then falling flat with his legs spread. As I watched he tried to scrape his tied balls across the dirt in his cell, which gave the impression he was humping the ground as if to fuck it. His naked ass went up and down for several minutes, as he tried to rub his testicles around on the floor, seemingly oblivious to us that were watching. I suppose he was trying to break the tie and somehow free up his noosed balls, but I knew it was a wasted effort and there was no way one of my red ties can be broken. Unless he had a knife to cut it off, his balls were as good as dead and after only a few minutes he figured that out. I think the rest of them had already given up, but they watched him anyway, perhaps hoping he would be successful. After a few minutes though they one by one turned their attention back to the pain between their legs, and after that they just stared there, watching their balls darken by the minute and helpless to do anything but to watch it happening. The youngest of the group, the teenage Slavic boy with jet black hair, was whimpering, staring at his darkening nuts and with the look on his face of a much younger, scared little boy. He had probably been drafted as a courier, and now he was paying for it. He was a young man, sexy as hell in a multitude of ways, and as I looked at him, I turned to the soldier who had escorted me, and asked, “What about him? Is he too going to be made a slave?” The soldier laughed, and then he said “No...he’s the lucky one. He was hired as a courier, to carry their drugs and to deliver them where they are wanted. The council has decided that the boy will still be a courier, but the next package he will carry will contain his black scrotum, along with the severed balls of his friends. Yes, in just a few days he will be returning to Valanstina as a eunuch, and when he goes he will carry the balls of the entire group here, and hopefully deliver a message to the individual that sent them this way.” I stared at the boy, and I licked my lips. For some reason I felt my dick stir in my pants, and I felt an erection growing that was hard to explain. I think it was his eyes, and his smooth chest and tiny nipples, along with his hard teenage cock that grabbed my attention. I wanted him. The soldier who was escorting me noticed, and grinning from ear to ear he then turned to me and said “The boy is eighteen, and would make a good fuck. You can see he’s been noosed, so his balls are dead for all practical purposes. You can fuck the boy if you want, right now even. The council has ordered that his hole be well stretched and full of cream when he carries the package back to the men that sent him, and so the more men that fuck him in the next few days the sooner he will be ready for his journey home. If you would like, you can be the first, and there is no doubt that his hole will be tight.” I stared at the boy who had been listening, and having heard what was just said, he stepped away from me, moving backwards across the cell with a face of fear. I felt my dick throb in anticipation, and as I went fully hard the thought of filling his rear was very appealing to me. Looking at the boy it occurred to me that he might have even had a girl or two, and for some reason that made me want him even more. I hadn’t had a fuck in a month, and while generally boys are not my thing he was a young robust teenager, with a hard body, and I knew he would be tight and I was all but certain his ass would grip my rod and give me pleasure. I hate the drug trade, and so I found myself nodding, and then as I watched they went into the cell and dragged the naked teenage boy out of it, down the hallway and into another cell where a platform with a straw mattress was waiting for him. He screamed, protested, and begged, and started blabbering about having a girlfriend and being a man and this not being fair. Nothing he said made any difference, and they quickly tied him down, so his legs were wide and his hole was exposed to me. His arms were still tied behind his back, but they added a length of rope from his bound wrists that went up and around his neck, so his hands were held high, away from his ass and making him incapable of interfering with what I was going to do to him. Then, my escort said “He’s yours senor, so have your fun with him. When you are done, I’ll be at the cell waiting. Then, without another word, he was gone and I was alone with the teenage boy. I didn’t hesitate. The boy was spread out wide, his legs tied apart and his hole exposed and open and waiting for me. His thigh muscles strained against the ropes that tied him, and he bounced on the bed as he struggled. As I approached him the boy turned his face and looked at me over his shoulder, and started to beg me not to mount him. He sprouted a wisp of black hair across his upper lip, and as I noticed it I had the thought that with his balls dead it would never thicken. “No! NO! Please.....I’m a man! I’ve got a girlfriend, and she wants to marry me! You CAN'T fuck ME! OH GOD...PLEASE DON’T FUCK ME!!!!” Then, I leaned over and put my lips against his ear, and as I did I reached up between his spread legs and hefted his tied teenage balls. I felt my string there, cinching off his scrotum nice and tight, the little knot formed perfectly and the noose doing exactly what it was designed to do. As I hefted his balls I gave them a squeeze, and noticed that they were cool to the touch. He was for all practical purposes already castrated but he didn’t know it. Then I said “Quite boy....hush your voice! Be glad you are only losing your balls. They could have crucified you. You're balls are cold, and I bet they are numb. Aren't they boy? I thought so! Well, your not a man, not any more, and your woman will not want you now. Instead, you're going to be my woman now, and I’m going to fill your ass with my cream and you will not cry out. Instead, you will accept my pole. Do you hear me? You will accept my pole the same way your girl accepted yours! You got that? You’re not a man, not any longer. I want you to open your hole like a pussy and you will do it too. And I had better feel your ass muscles gripping my rod. And, when I’m ready, you will enjoy my seed, and afterwards you will thank me for it.” His eyes were wide open, staring, taking in my words with a look of horror as the truth was said to him. Then, I opened my pants then and pushed my cock to his hole. He continued to look over his shoulder, and stared at me as I slid into him, slowly pushing my cock all the way until I was up against his ass, my balls literally touching his tied sac. He didn’t cry out, but instead stared with wide open eyes. I don’t think he could believe that a man’s cock was inside of him, and combined with the deep ache coming from his numb nuts it was too much for him. As I started moving in and out he gasp, and then he grunted as I fucked him, calling out “ugh.... ugh..... ugh..... ugh...... ugh” with each stroke I made. I pounded into him, enjoying the tightness of his hole, and I kept at it until my balls churned and then I tossed my head back. He felt so damn good! He was gripping my rod, his internal muscles literally squeezing my cock in rhythmic contractions as I was fucking him, and the feeling overwhelmed me. His face flushed red from the humiliation of what I was doing to him. Then just as I started to shoot he buried his head in the bed and yelled out “ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH!” As he did I ejaculated into his bowels as his hole gripped and squeezed me again and again. God he felt so damn good it was as if he was milking me dry! Afterwards, when I pulled out of him I could see his hole there, filled with my cream. He had a wispy ring of sex hair around his hole and it seemed to wink and pucker at me. I couldn’t help but notice that his balls were much darker by then, and I knew just looking at them that they were dead. He knew it too of course, and there was no doubt that his days of being a man were over. When they pulled him off the bed I noticed his mop of pubic hair was wet with slime, and it occurred to me than that the boy too had ejaculated and the rhythmic squeezing I had felt had obviously happened as he was squirting. You could also see where he had spilled his seed into the mattress as I was fucking him, and somehow that seemed fitting to me that his last load of cream was forced from him while he was being fucked in the ass by a man. Yes, somehow the fact that I had added to his punishment gave me a deep satisfaction that I can’t really describe. They tossed the boy back with his friends, and I went down the hall and cleaned up in the chamber room. When I went back to the cell he was curled into a ball on the floor, shaking, with the tears running down his face and my cream still running out of his ass. His friends were just as I had left them, staring at their balls, and the look of total defeat registered on all their faces. They knew their fate now, and from the boy’s experience they knew without any doubt their own legs would soon be spread. They would all be fucked regularly, and if the council wanted their holes stretched wide there was no doubt that it would be happening. No doubt what-so-ever and it was good to have been the first of many to teach them that lesson. I found the entire scene entertaining, and I was glad the council was taking action against the drug dealers. I stayed for about an hour more watching justice being done. While I watched I ask about what would be happen to the others. My escort said: “Senor, they will be left the way you see them, tied like steers and fed like dogs in bowls placed on the floor. Within a week or so their dead balls will drop off and after that they will be going to the quarries to be harnessed as work animals while the young one delivers their manhood back to where they came.” “Except for the boy, they are destined to turn the shaft that drives the water wheel that keeps the quarry dry. They will be lashed to it, and will spend their days pulling it around in circles, and they will do that every day for the rest of their lives. In the evenings, they will be strapped down with their legs spread, to serve the other workers who may desire their holes. It's been decided that they are to be made examples of, and they are only getting what they deserved so there is no sympathy for any of them. I nodded, glad for it, and then I left and went back to the main square, where the action was busier and a drink could be had. My own balls felt so wonderful, the way they do when they have freshly shot their load and the fuck has been good. After a couple of beers, I spent the rest of the day, walking about, and stopping now and then to watch another bunch of slaves getting nutted one after the other. The youngest of the slaves really have no idea what they are losing, and while they don’t like being castrated they don’t understand the value of what is being taken from them. The teenagers on the other hand fully comprehend their balls and what they are for, and it is obvious that they are important to them. Older men and teenage boys fight hard to keep their manhood, and for the ones around fourteen to sixteen their pubescent voices often break into high pitched squeals when they feel the knife as it begins their unmanning. Most of them squirt out a load of jism too as they are nutted, but not all by any means. Toward the end of the day there was this Slavic youth whose jet black hair and deep dark eyes caught my attention. In some ways he reminded me of the boy I had fucked, but this one was much younger and was barely into puberty. He was really afraid, and was crying as they dragged him to the table and pulled him into position for his unmanning. He struck me to be about thirteen, just barely into manhood and yet far enough along to have a few short hairs above his cock. His prickle was thin, like it is on a boy, and it was hanging down like a wet noodle between his legs, resting against his scrotum. What made the sight memorable was that his purchaser was a woman, and she was dressed in fine clothes and when I got closer I saw the seal of the council. She was definitely a woman of power, and she knew what she wanted and while I did not recognize her she was obviously the wife of a councilman. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and she had bright blue eyes that seemed to burn through you when she looked at you. The woman was stroking the young slave’s hair as they tied him to the table, and she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead right after they strapped him down. The slave boy struggled, and fought extremely hard, and it was obvious to me he had seen enough slaves go to the tables before him that he knew what was going to be done to him. She insisted on standing at his side as he was nutted, and her interest in the lad was keen. To add to the spectacle, the cutter was young, in his twenties I’m guessing, and he seemed to be nervous and I could tell he just wanted to get it done and was less than pleased with her presence. But the woman insisted that he wait until she was ready, and she would not be hurried. Finally, as we all watched she lifted the slave’s young rod into her hand, feeling it, holding the boy’s soft pole and gently running her fingers delicately up and down his four-inch shaft. It didn’t take long until the teenager’s young dick started to grow stiff in her fist, and once it began the boy went rock hard and soon was as stiff as an iron rod. His cute little dick thickened, and perhaps gained as much as half an inch, and his boner seemed out of place on a boy of his size. Yes, he had a cute dick, and he stared at the woman’s hand who was holding it. The end glistened, and the boy looked very eager. After she had made him hard she skinned the boy’s rod back, exposing the little acorn on the end of his dick, and as she fondled it soon it was glistening with desire. The boy’s single eye in the end of his prick was oozing, and that wasn’t lost on any of us. I was surprised at the boy’s rod, for once it was filled with blood and stiff it seemed to bob with an eagerness that was fresh and exciting. It was apparent that he had never had a woman hold his pole, and his innocence was obvious to everyone. As she was fondling his dick he stared at her, the fear in his eyes obvious, but the look more than that. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her hand, and the way she held his dick and toyed with the skin, her thumb flicking over the tip of it and rubbing the slime there around in circles over the sensitive end. As she was doing that she said this to the boy: “You have a nice prickle boy...a very nice prickle. I think it’s bigger than my son’s even, although I’ve never seen my own boy’s when he was stiff. But I imagine his rod is the size of yours.” The boy looked up at her pleading, and said “Please madam....please. Do not unman me! I will do whatever you ask, but let me keep my balls! Please let me grow in a man! I’ll be a good slave, and I can work hard!” She smiled at him, and then answered the boy: “My son Peter is your age, just coming into manhood like you, and I want him to have a hole to use and to practice on. I’m sorry for you, but you will learn to live without your balls, and to spread your legs and to keep my boy satisfied. From today onward, you exist only for him, and for his pleasure.” As she was talking to him she started to stroke his cock, and the boy started to struggle and fight as her words registered. He jerked his head back and forth, protesting her words, and that’s when she pumped him faster then. As she did, she said “Go ahead boy...you know you want to do it. Be a man if you can, and shoot your wad. Shoot your last wad for me. Enjoy the feeling, and remember it. After today it will be your job to give the same feeling to my son whenever he desires it and however he wants it done.” The boy thrashed on the table, fighting as hard as he could to pull away from the straps that held him fast. Another minute passed, and his eyes went wide, and then he bent his head forward, staring at her and her hand and his dick that was within it. She pumped him faster then, her hand now a blur. He gasped, and yelled “OH..OH NO!!!!!!! Stop! Oh...OH PLEASE! STOP I SAY!!!!” and then he tossed his head back in frustration, and squirted, his jism squirting out with such force that the first squirt went all the way to his chin. He shot and shot, and she milked it all out until his young balls were totally empty, leaving the boy’s man-cream in lines across his chest and belly. When there was nothing left within his balls, she dropped his stiff rod, and said to the cutter, “Go ahead now, and steal his balls. I want them put into a jar when it is done, so I can show them to him if he starts to forget. The cutter then slid one of my blue strings up and over his scrotum, and with a quick hard tug he cinched it tight and trapped the boy’s young balls in his sac. After that, the cutter brought the knife into play. The Slavic youth screamed when he felt the knife, and his pole squirted another little shot of cream as the blade penetrated into his manhood. She held his dick up and out of the way while he was being castrated, and she kissed him again on the forehead while the cutter fished out the boy’s left ball and snipped it off as if it was nothing, dropping it into the bowl before he went for the other. The boy being castrated slammed his head back in frustration, and bucked his hips, trying to lift himself right off of the table. His jet black eyes went wide open as he felt his last ball being taken, and then just as it separated from his body he collapsed, like a rag doll, laying on the table as a new eunuch. She dropped his dick then, and it fell flat along his belly, his last erection already gone. I knew soon he would heal and then after that he would be on his knees, spreading his smooth legs and opening his hole for the hard cock of a coucilman’s pubescent son. I thought of the other Slavic teenager I had just fucked, and I wondered how this one would take to having a cock from a same-aged boy up his ass, feeling another lad’s young balls slapping between his legs as he was penetrated. He would soon learn to suck the sperm from a boy’s hose and drink his jism, tasting the salty seed that he could no longer make himself. I figured that eventually he would probably get used to it, and perhaps even savor it in the years to come. [Authors note: © Copyright October, 2005. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. --nathan9001@yahoo.com] |