Be Like Ken

It started ten years ago. Well maybe earlier. I remember when I was younger being fascinated with my sister's Ken doll. I would stare at Ken's perfectly smooth body jealously wondering why I was burdened with a penis when Ken was spared such an ugly protrusion. My fantasies of Ken stayed in the back of my mind in until college. Then one day during a class discussion of slavery in the Roman Empire I was surprised by a leaking erection. My final paper on the subject received an A and a compliment from the professor on the thoroughness of my research. Little did he know that what I studied by day became my fantasies at night. From that time on I collected all I could on the subject of eunuchs, hoarding my collection under the bed like porn. During school I floated from boyfriend to boyfriend. Afraid to tell them of my desires, I soon lost interest in sex and they in me. As graduation neared, the Internet and S/M novels replaced scholarly books.

After graduation a friend of a friend got me a job at start up. Work began to take over more of my life as I started to rise in the company. The pay was poor but the options flowed freely. When the company went public I became a wealthy man. But dot.com boom went to dot.com bust and I was the one charged with closing the office and selling what assets we had. I was luckier than most, I ended well off but unemployed with a wounded ego.

I figured I worked hard so I decided I needed a vacation, some time to decompress. After a few weeks I was suffering from a full-fledged depression. For six months I did nothing but watch TV and surf the net. I read the Archive daily, its stories providing the only sex life I had.

The night of my thirtieth birthday I sat alone in my apartment chatting with strangers over the net. I had not gone outside for two weeks surviving on a cache of junk food and soda. About eleven o'clock I began drinking vodka straight form the bottle. By midnight I was passed out on the living room floor. The next morning I awoke with one of the worst hangovers of my life. I got up and headed to the bathroom but was stopped by my reflection in the hallway mirror. My shirt was stained with food and vomit while the beginnings of a beer belly showed through gap between my shirt and pants. I was disgusted and I knew I had to do something.

The next day I joined a gym and began working out. As the months went by the fat burned away and my muscles toned. A year latter I was proud of my body but I still did not have the look I wanted. Too much hair, I was not smooth enough. Laser treatments solved this problem. As I stood admiring my body in the mirror I realized the bulge in my crotch was the only thing left to fix.

I found my solution on the web, a Thai surgeon that would remove my dick no questions asked. Inquiry lead to a medical review and a flight to Bangkok. Three hours after I hit the ground I was being prepped for surgery.

Two days latter I lay in my bed watching a videotape of the surgery. If it weren't for the pain between my legs, I would have thought I watching someone else. The recording began with the nurse inserting a catheter in to my soon to be detached dick. She then cleaned my groin with antiseptic. In the corner of the screen an anesthesiologist injected something into my IV. The moment I was unconscious, the doctor began. First he cut around the base of my penis; digging deeply to insure that no root remained. Satisfied that the organ was free the doctor slid it down the catheter and dumped it unceremoniously into a tray. Next he moved on to my testicles, moving them into my body before trimming away my sack. The surgeon finished by rerouting my urethra to a hole between my legs then he stepped aside to allow the plastic surgeon to close. By the time he was done it was hard to tell that such drastic surgery had been performed.

I spent the next two weeks in an isolated beach house recovering in the company of four of the doctor's other special patients. One was a young nullified Thai slave who talked endlessly about his life as one of many pets in harem of nullos kept by wealthy industrialist. His garrulousness was a contrasted by the two bears from Vermont who had themselves castrated to insure fidelity. For the first few days of their recovery the couple was very friendly but they became withdrawn and argumentative as the last traces of testosterone left their systems. The fourth patient was a penectomized German slave in a thick leather collar. The slave had been lost to a Japanese businessman in a bet between two masters. Having never met his new owner, the slave was left to wonder what sort of servitude awaited him in Japan.

The bandages came off the day before I departed for home. Looking down on my now empty crotch I knew that I finally had the body I wanted. Two weeks on my back followed by seeing my nullified body made me incredibly horny. I instinctively reached for my dick to relieve myself but there was nothing there. I would have find release some other way.

My first day back I bought a vibrator. I barely inserted it before my body shook with pleasure of my first post surgery orgasm. But that was months ago. Now the vibrator is not enough and tonight I am going out on my first date as a nullo. But before I get dressed I pause before the mirror to admire my thin, smooth, sexless body.