My name is Ken. I was castrated 6 years ago on a stupid bet. The details still pain me to think of it. Since then I have had artificial testicles put in and other than an unusual seam in my sac, you would be hard pressed to see I was ever cut. I was living in Las Vegas at the time. It was the 1996 World Series. I went to a bar every night for the series. The Atlanta Braves won the first two games easily over the Yankees. Being extremely drunk I made the comment that they were unbeatable. Of course this sparked some controversy and fans of each team started yelling and insulting the others. It was just normal fan loyalty. Finally I made a comment you could bet your balls on this series. The Braves would win. There was a woman Vicki, that took exception and said the Yanks would come back. I said yeah right. Put your money where your mouth is. She fumed. I said if the Braves won she had to give me a blowjob in front of everyone. This set the place berserk. She was fuming. She asked what if the Yanks won. I said I would suck her off on the bar. This made her really mad we all started laughing harder. Then I said anything you want babe. She glared at me and said ok, it’s a bet. Well, before the week was over I was wrong. I’ll remember that day forever, Saturday October 26, 1996. The same crowd was there and we were all wasted and insulting each other. The Yankee fans were having a fine time of it. The Yankees had come back and were trying to win the last game. They were ahead in the 9th 3-1. Then the Braves scored to make it 3-2. But that was it. They lost to the Yankees. Vicki came over and said time to collect. I was drunk, the whole gang there was drunk. I just laughed and said did she want her pussy eaten there on the bar. This was followed by laughter and she was fuming again. “No asshole,” she said, “I want your balls!” I just looked at her like she was crazy. “You said you would bet your balls. Then you said anything I wanted, well that’s what I want” All of a sudden it wasn’t so funny. Then I heard someone say, “Yeah, he said anything she wanted”. Someone else said, “He said he would bet his balls”. There was more mumblings. “C’mon guys lets show this jerk we don’t welch on bets here!” Vicki shouted. I tried to turn and run but was met by a wall of people. Some guys grabbed me and held me. “On the table guys!” I was put on my back on one of the tables and held down. I tried kicking away but two other guys grabbed my legs. I felt my pants and then my shorts pulled down. I was screaming, “Let me go!” but nobody wanted to help me. They all seemed more interested in seeing what was going to happen. Then Vicki picked up a knife from behind the bar. It was a big one. She smiled at me and said, “Time to pay up asshole!” and she grabbed my balls and tugged. I felt the knife edge under my sac then a sudden pull and cutting. It really didn’t hurt much, more like a tugging and then a release, but I screamed. I guess that sobered everyone up fast. All of a sudden everyone was running out. Vicki, smiled at me a last time and took off with her prize. I doubled up grabbing my groin and rolled off the table. I felt the wetness of the blood. I just cried doubled over like that until the paramedics arrived. There were cops there too, but I didn’t hear anything they were saying. They managed to get me on the gurney and had to force me to lay down and tie me down. They looked at my mangled crotch and put some towels over it. I remember being wheeled into the hospital emergency room. I could hear the paramedic telling the nurse, “He’s been castrated and is hemorrhaging profusely.” Those three words always stuck in my mind. “Castrated”, “hemorrhaging” and “profusely”. They rushed me into surgery and that’s all I remembered until I woke up later. I was in the hospital for 3 days. I guess I lost a lot of blood and they kept me there to be safe. It was the most humiliating time of my life. Doctors would come in and inspect the area that was cut. I saw young nurses going by and giggling at me. The older nurses just shook their heads as they passed by me. When they washed me, I could see them staring at the area what was now sewed shut. I never felt so embarrassed in my whole life. I was in a room with two other guys and they overheard what had happened to me. I heard them whisper to their families and friends what happened to me, and when they left they all looked at me on the way out. Some smiling others giggling too. It was just a very embarrassing time. The police were there and asked who did it and why. I just said some bitch named Vicki. I didn’t know her last name. I didn’t know any of them very well. Just a bunch at a bar. They brought a bunch in after I was out of the hospital, but I didn’t recognize any of them as the actual participants. Vicki had disappeared. Nobody seemed to know her. Then I had to go through psychological therapy, hormone treatment and a variety of other rehabilitation programs. Always the same embarrassment knowing and talking about being castrated. Knowing they knew was the most worst. Knowing that everyone knew, the assistants, the nurses, the receptionist, everyone knew. Finally a year later they said I could have replacement testicles so I would look normal again. They showed them to me. They’re saline prosthetics like breast implants but much smaller. They felt mushy but the doctor said you couldn’t tell the difference once they were inserted. It was another painful time the next few months. They insert a kind of balloon in your groin and keep adding air to stretch the skin. It gets big enough and they remove the balloon and put in the testes. Again a very embarrassing procedure and recovery. Everyone knowing what your treatment is and then the hospital stay again. Then afterwards all the gawking and examinations to see that they look alright. I still take hormone treatments but I don’t have much desire for sex anymore. I’m told it’s psychological. I have masturbated and can have an erection and orgasm. I haven’t had sex with anyone for this entire time. I always think they will know. I have since moved from Vegas and nobody other than my doctor, and probably his whole staff, knows about my condition. But I learned a valuable lesson. I no longer bet on anything and if I do, its strictly cash.
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