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"Come with me," June said as she led me down the hall to the elevator.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Down to the procedure halls--otherwise known as 'the dungeons,'" she said with a wink. As the elevator rode down to Basement One, I admired my friend's body. She relaxed up against the elevator wall, displaying herself well. She had a delicious figure, just as she described herself--tall and slim with an opulent bosom--almost like an over-developed teenager. Gazing at her, I plotted ways to seduce her into some girl-on-girl play and hoped that she would not reject me because of my thicker, rounder body. The door opened and June led me into a white tiled hall that seemed to stretch for a city block. Secure-looking doors flanked it on both sides. At either end of the hall stood a pair of black-garbed guards. The tough-looking women wore tight-fitting body armor with studded knee pads and stun guns. One of them smiled at me as we walked by. "Did you notice the knee pads?" asked June as we paused in front of a door marked A-3. "Yes," I answered. "Can you guess what they're for?" She asked with a smirk. I thought for a minute, then winced in sympathy pain and covered my crotch with my hands. "Ooohhh," I moaned. "I bet that smarts." June opened the door and we entered a chamber that resembled an operating room. It was empty save for a table on which a man lay restrained. It was not an ordinary table, for it featured a menacing vice fixed to its surface. The vice had been clamped onto the man's balls, which glistened deep red in the hot light. We stepped up to the side of the table. The guys must have been about my age. He lay with his eyes closed and his teeth clenched. His face looked strained. I could smell his sweat. "Hi Arnold," June said, placing a palm on his damp forehead. "Oh . . . June," he groaned. "How long has it been?" June glanced at her watch. "Twenty minutes, Arnold," she said as she curled several strands of his chest hair around her finger. "Only twenty minutes . . . good," he said, looking relieved. "That means you aren't going to tighten the vice again, right? Who's the cutie you brought with you?" He managed a weak smile. June's nostrils flared. "You never learn, do you?" she said, icily, as she stepped away. "Your wife put you here for flirting with other women . . . and yes, I am going to tighten the vice!" "No, June, no please," he cried as she gripped the handle with both hands. As she turned, Arnold's face blanched and he screamed. I watched as the jaws of the device closed in tighter, putting a strain on his testicles. They must have been sizable before June flattened them, but now the blood vessels looked as though they might split open. I didn't notice the moisture in my crotch until we left the room. "He's a repeat offender," June said, shutting the door on the cries of pain. "My instructions are to apply pressure until his eggs pop," she told me. "His wife's request was that it be done slowly, so I'm going to take all day. Believe it or not," she added, "that vice has never been used to rupture a pair." "Will I get to see it when it happens?" I asked, an edge of eagerness in my voice. "Of course, " June said. ----------- "Now we'll go to your first castration," June said, walking ahead of me. I checked out her behind as we went--it was a cute tight thing with just enough rhythm. "Uh, I don't think I'm ready to cut yet, June," I protested. "No, Dear," June gently assured me, "you're going to observe a cutting." We stopped in front of a door marked A-7 and June opened it. Like before, the chamber resembled a well-lit operating room. Unlike the last room, however, its walls glistened and gleamed with wicked-looking implements. A man hung by his wrists and ankles spread-eagled on a table tilted almost vertical. He was naked and his cock stood at full-mast. A redhead wearing the standard uniform stood next to the table. She turned to us and smiled. June introduced us. "Sandie, this is Megan," she said. "Hullo," Megan offered, extending her hand. I took it with a smile. Cute freckles adorned her porcelain-white complexion and the little I could see of her cleavage. Her hair glowed like fire, and she spoke with a subtle accent. "Sandie's here to observe you castrate this man," June announced. "Wonderful," Megan chimed, "But I think ye might want to rough him up a bit, June. He looks a wee bit too comfortable for my taste." The man's face grew pale and his eyes widened. He didn't make a sound, for he had been gagged, but I imagine he wanted to scream. June approached him. "I suppose I should inspect you," she murmured. She drew up close to him and bent over. "Damn," I cursed under my breath. That pretty ass staring me in the face was the last thing I needed. How could I focus with that in front of me? I wanted to reach forward and fill my hands with that firm callipygian flesh but I contained myself. Instead I stepped forward to get a better view of what my friend was doing. She stared at his package, her nose almost touching his sack. "Yes," she said. "I think your apricots would benefit from the abuse." With that, she cupped the tender fruits in her hand and squeezed hard--so hard that her fingernails dug into his scrotum. The man strained at his bonds. If not for the gag, his scream would have rattled our spines no doubt. I watched with pleasure as June loosened her grip and twisted the ballsack again and again like winding a watch spring. It was such a thrill to watch her work. She released the 'nads and looked up at the man. His face shone red and tears streamed down his cheeks. Next June positioned her knee between his spread legs, gazing into his eyes. He shook his head back and forth in a pathetic effort to discourage her, but it did him no good. Swift as lightning, June yelled and snapped her knee up, driving it into the man's s fruit bag. I exhaled sharply. I could feel my nipples hardening. June kneed him again and again and again--six times in all, each strike punctuated by a throaty exultation. By the time my friend had finished her assault, I had soaked the pouch of my G-string with my juice. I was grateful for the shave as my pubic hair would have shown right through the skimpy fabric. "That should do it," June said, catching her breath and brushing the flaxen bangs out of her eyes. The guy's ballsack had swollen awfully, red as a tomato. "Would you like to stay and watch me do my stuff?" Megan asked. "Why not," June replied, moving away from the man to give Megan room to work. Megan strode toward the table on alabaster thighs. She came up to one side and grabbed hold of a crank, which she turned, tilting the surface back so that the table lay horizontal. Next, she went over to one of the walls, selected an elastrator, and loaded it with a blue band. She leaned over onto the table, elastrator in hand, and slid the band up as far as it would go, then let it snap. Next, she walked over to another wall and selected a garden shears. "Come one," June said, leading me by the arm. "This is something you have to see up close." June and I stood on either side of the man as Megan centered the blades about the mistreated scrotum. She looked at us with a conspiratorial gaze, then squeezed the handles together. The blades closed, snipping through the sac and cords while the man strained in agony. Because of a heated surface on one side of the blades, the wound cauterized instantly. Blood oozed freely from the dismembered sack. Megan fished out the balls and held them up for all to see. I had expected the sight of fresh-cut testicles to sicken me, but instead I felt an intense excitement and heat in my loins upon viewing the gory orbs. "And that," said Megan, addressing her victim, "is what happens to a guy who fucks around on his girlfriend." The man, who had been staring wide-eyed at his severed orchids, passed out. We all laughed. Other stories by this author: Castration Quickie One - Three Coeds Discover Penectomy Porn Cyber-Bitch Technologies: The Constrictor Memoir of a Student Teacher Two Guys Really Get Fucked
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