BANDED (Part 3)

By: ANONYMOUS (mail will go to the Eunuch Archive) (bandingfan@hotmail.com)

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[GAY] [BI] Other:Elastrators & EZE Banders


A nasty suprise for the narrator in the final part of this story.

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BANDED (Part 3)

“Ah, you’re keen to be banded, ain’t ya” smiles Erik, standing in 
the doorway and admiring me in the castration outfit.  By the tone 
of his voice he seems almost surprised that I’ve gone along with 
his plan so easily.  “Nice, real nice”.  He comes up to me and runs 
his big hand down the front of my body, gently squeezing the nylon 
as he reaches my groin. “Y’r little fellas are just ripe for the 
picking now” he laughs, squeezing the nylon mesh around the neck of 
my scrotum and forcing my balls down as low as they’ll go.

His deep voice is sexy compared to mine and I enjoy the feel of his 
fingers around my sac.  I can almost taste the alcohol on his warm 
breath next to my face, but I can see nothing.  The black hood I 
manoeuvred over my head a few minutes ago has stretched tightly 
against my face now and is keeping out every bit of light.

I encourage him since it’s pretty obvious that me in a body 
stocking is part of his fantasy.  “It’s a good idea to wear 
something like this.  Sorta takes my identity away, reduces me from 
your boss to a male body wrapped in silk.  You like that do ya?  
Just another eunuch-wannabe with a pair of balls to remove... ”  I 
reach out for his gym pants to test his excitement.

Erik likes it, no question about that.  He forces me backward 
toward the sofa.  “Where do ya want it done?  Your choice.”  The 
EZE bander is still sitting quietly in its red carrier bag beside 
the wall.  “Here?  The bedroom?  Or....”

My mind is running over the options faster than a wild animal 
cornered in a yard.  This is the first time Erik and I have been 
together.  It could be the first of many if things go well.  I need 
to come up with somewhere really erotic to keep him interested.  

“How about....   out in the yard?  If my balls really feel like a 
bull’s balls in this silk outfit, then why not put my head in the 
headlock and band me just like a bull at roundup time.”  As soon as 
the words  leave my mouth I realise how hot that scene would be for 
me.  My dick is fully erect and held tight against my body by the 
nylon stocking.

“Ohhh yeah” Erik responds in a tone similar to his orgasmic moan 
half an hour ago.  “Nice idea buddy.  That’ll work just fine”.  I 
stand still as he picks up his sports bag and the EZE Bander kit, 
then comes back and lifts me effortlessly over his shoulder.  “I’m 
gonna make it as easy as I can for ya.  Just relax.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Five minutes later we’re out in the yard and he drops me to the 
ground.  I’ve had more time to think now and doubts start to echo 
in the back of my brain.  I’ve only known this guy for a month and 
I’m about to let him trap me in a headlock and band my sac.  How do 
I know Erik isn’t some Nazi psycho who gets off mutilating gays?  
But the testosterone pumping through my body doesn’t want me to get 
distracted.  Erik is a 33 year old, fit alpha male who shares my 
castration fetish.  This isn’t someone I come across every day.  I 
have to take a risk.  After all, even if it doesn’t go well I’m 
going to be able to use tonight as a jerk-off fantasy for the rest 
of my life...

“Come on little fella, let’s get you sorted out.”  A phrase I’d 
heard Erik use on the bulls as he drove them into the small yard 
with the headlock at the end.  This time his hands were on my 
shoulders and he was marching me towards the metal construction.  
They build these things to hold any sort of farm animal - from a 
small calf to a wild bullock - and the lever to widen the head gap 
was going to be well out of my reach.

“Ok, bend over.  Slowly, yeah that’s it.”  He guides my head 
through the metal gap.  “Now hold still for a sec”.  Suddenly 
there’s a loud metal thud as he releases the lever and pushes the 
metal doors closed around my neck.  When they close tight against 
my skin Erik snaps the lever into place, holding them 
firmly.  “How’s that, can you move alright?”

I stretch my neck and pull back.  There’s room to move, but no way 
can I get out of this thing without that metal gap being 
widened.  “Fine.  Fuck this is hot.  I’m all yours now pal.  Just 
like one of those bulls last week.  They say  banding of large 
bulls does not stress them” - I nervously joke, repeating the 
cowboy’s reassurance on the EZE bander video we’d watched earlier -
 “but what they don‘t say is how banding is a great way to get off.”

An amused “hmmm” is the only response I hear as Erik turns his 
attention to my arms and legs.  There are leather straps on the 
bars at the side of the yard to hold the cattle legs in place if 
they get too aggressive.  He threads one around my left ankle and 
pulls it out against the left fence, then does the same with my 
right against the right fence.  I’m spread-eagled now, my legs wide 
apart with my balls dangling invitingly in front of Erik.  His 
final job is to take care of my arms.  “I know you won’t give me 
any trouble but I might as well make use of these cuffs” he 
sniggers, snapping each of my wrists into them behind my back.

Erik steps away to fully appreciate how far  I’ve let him take 
control of my body.  “If you knew how hot this is going to be, 
pal...” he stops himself before he finishes the thought.  “Ok, 
let’s get this band on.”   

By now Erik is fairly adept at using the EZE.  I stand there in 
silence as he reaches for one of the metal clips and pushes it over 
the shaft hook and in the hole at the front of the castration 
device.   Next he lifts the EZE under his arm, places a rubber ring 
over one of the spreader bars and pulls it across to the tip of the 
second spreader bar.  To stretch the band into an open triangle he 
finally pulls one side of the rubber ring from the bottom of the 
loop over the top of the shaft hook.  Now he can squeeze the 
trigger which slowly pulls back the shaft hook and increases the 
size of the triangle.

I can’t see what he’s doing but in my mind I travel back to the 
previous week-end when he used the EZE on the bulls.  The grating 
sound of Erik squeezing the trigger tells me that he’s ready to 
slip the band over my sac.  This is it, what I’ve been waiting for 
all week.  His big warm hand comes up between my legs and starts to 
massage my balls.  Lower and lower he pulls them, teases them.  
Finally he decides they’re ready.

“KEEP STILL......”  there’s tension in his voice as one hand pushes 
my scrotum forward and the other pulls back on the EZE.  With a 
dull snap the rubber ring comes off the spreader bars and closes 
comfortably around the neck of my scrotum.  “Got you!”  Erik’s free 
hand grips the handle and he starts pumping the trigger, which 
pulls back the shaft hook and tightens the rubber ring around my 
sac.

One, two, three, four... I count the pumps as they grate in my 
head.  Just like with the bulls, Erik’s pumps tonight are slow and 
deliberate.  I imagine what the scene looks like - a big young man 
in white t-shirt and gym pants cranking a tool against the genitals 
of a bound hooded figure wearing a black body stocking.  I picture 
the contract shearers watching us like entertainment in a 
nightclub, cheering Erik on to finish the job.  Castrate him!  
Tighter!  Tighter!  Geld the bugger once and for all! they’d shout, 
enjoying the sight of one male weakened sexually by another.   One 
less pair of testicles in the world could only be seen as a good 
thing by real men.  More chance for their own genes to survive and 
dominate.

Erik stops temporarily at 10.  “You’ll start to feel the band 
tightening  now” he warns me “but don’t worry,  by the end you 
won’t be able to feel the band at all.  The sheer nylon in the suit 
will help stop the pain.”  And he’s right - as my counting reaches 
20 the castration band is as tight as it’ll go and the pinching has 
stopped.  With a few sharp tugs Erik crimps the clip, cuts the 
excess band and pulls away the tool.

His first move, just like with the elastrator band, is to grasp my 
trapped balls in his hand and feel the tightness.  This time though 
he says nothing.  “How are they?” I ask, wondering what’s going on 
in his mind and what his next move will be.  It dawns on me that 
this body stocking  isn’t exactly designed for butt-fucking and I 
wonder if he’s going to cut it off me now that my balls are bound 
in silk.

“Oh yeah, they’re good alright” he replies.  “Just where they 
should be.”  There’s a change in the tone of his voice.  It’s 
harder now, angrier.  “You were easier than I thought you’d be, 
faggot.”   The last word hangs in the air and it takes me some 
seconds to associate it with the changed tone in Erik’s voice.  
It’s not the sort of thing I’d expect from such a liberal kind of 
guy.  My first reaction is panic.  How could I have so seriously 
misjudged him?

Then I realise what Erik’s doing and a wave of relief washes over 
me.  He’s going to act out a scene.  He’s into power and this time 
he’s going to get off by abusing me.  Ok, fine.  If that’s how he 
want’s to play it...

“Yeah, I’m a faggot” I admit behind the rubber mask.  “Weaker than 
a butch guy like you.  Inferior.  I deserve to be castrated.  Go 
ahead, fuck me.  Be a man.”

I wait for his reaction.  Slowly I hear a noise.  It gets louder.  
Laughter.  He’s laughing!  “Too easy, queer” he sniggers.  Then I 
hear a beep.  Electronic.  It’s like..... a phone.  A mobile 
phone.  What is he doing?

He starts walking away and I yell out as loud as I can.  “Erik!  
What the fuck are you doing?  You and me.  That’s all this is 
between.  No one else, understand?”

He doesn’t reply and I can’t hear him any more.  I curse under my 
breath.  My arms and hands are useless.  And even if I manage to 
get a leg free how would it help?  The headlock would be impossible 
for me to open.  A wave of heat and panic surges through my body.  
What’s going on?

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later.  My balls are starting to ache and I hear a 
farm truck pull up on the metal outside the yard.  A voice in the 
distance, Erik I think.  And then another.  I can’t make it out.  
They’re coming closer and the voices get louder.  I listen, could 
it be... a woman?  Shit, it is a woman.  He’s brought his fucking 
girlfriend along!

“So here’s the fag who wants to be a eunuch” she announces in a 
deep southern drawl.  Erik says nothing as Brenda strides straight 
up to me and tugs at my ballsac.  “Good job, you’ve outdone 
yourself this time.”  She turns to Erik.  

“Just the way you like it, baby.”  From what I can make out they’re 
both turned on by my predicament.  Looks like I’m just a toy, here 
for their sexual enjoyment.

“I’m not into playing out other people’s fantasies.  Undo these 
fucking cuffs and let me get the band off” I growl.  I’m angry 
enough over Erik leaving the band on so long without even staying 
with me.  Now the presence of a woman has really wrecked what was 
going to be the basis for many jerk-off sessions.  “And if you 
don’t do it right fucking NOW you can damn well kiss your job 
goodbye!”

“Aggressive little steer ain’t ya” Brenda chuckles.  “Don’t think 
you understand the situation here.  You aren’t in no position to 
give us orders.  I’m in control now and I say it’d be better if you 
just kept nice and quiet for a while.”  In a few seconds she’s 
standing in front of me.  I can’t lift my head up to see what she 
looks like though I can see she has something in her hand.  
Suddenly she’s forcing it in my mouth.  A ball gag!  She loops the 
attached cord behind my head and ties it firmly.  “No more noise 
from the steer tonight.  Right, lets get this little task underway.”

All I can do is listen to Brenda and Erik prepare for the 
premeditated cutting.  Brenda sterilizes the blade of a sharp knife 
while Erik opens a pot of what I recognise instantly from the scent 
to be pine tar.

“Damn good use of the EZE” Brenda smiles, reaching down Erik’s 
pants and slowly stroking his hard-on.   “Going half way with the 
bands doesn’t work.  But cutting the banded sac off a weakling like 
this.  That’s what has to happen.  Do him good.  Do us good too 
Erik.”  

Erik smiles.  He knows Brenda is a hot dominant woman as long as 
she feeds her thirst for emasculation.  And she’s smart enough to 
find victims with a castration wish.  That way he keeps his balls, 
he and Brenda have an unparalleled sex life, and he gets to have 
some elastrator fun with guys like this poor fag before Brenda nuts 
him.

Now it is time.     

I’ve almost passed out with shock when Brenda slices through my 
scrotum with the blade.  She’s done this job many times before and 
is quick to tie up the end of the nylon pouch holding my sac and 
pop it into a preserving jar filled with yellow liquid.  “Another 
souvenir” she smiles to herself, looking up at Erik’s lusty eyes.  
He did a good job tonight.  Using the headlock in the cattle yards 
was inspirational.  She wonders, briefly, whether he realises what 
she is thinking.  Sure, another eunuch.  Another pair of balls for 
their collection. But also another white male Erik has helped her 
feminize.  He does it so willingly, driven by the anticipation of 
the sexual rewards she will give him.  And it’s that testosterone 
drive that blinds him to her mission.  Feminising men.  White men.  
Weak men.  And ultimately one man.  Erik.

My sac was numb enough to prevent me feeling too much pain as the 
knife cut through my skin.  Now, in my semi-conscious state, I am 
aware that Brenda has taken my balls.  A woman castrated me while 
her studly partner watched.  And Erik had enjoyed letting a female 
geld me, humiliate me.  Now I feel his hand between my legs rubbing 
pine tar into the wound to prevent infection.  He gently caresses  
the skin around the band.  

“There, that wasn’t so bad.  You got what you wanted.”  Erik is 
playing with me, teasing me, knowing that my castration fetish 
focussed on men, not women.  He knows Brenda had done more than a 
physical castration.  She has stolen my sexual fantasies as well as 
my testicles.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later and Erik and Brenda are in my house searching for 
anything of value they can steal before heading to another State.  

“And you’re sure the livestock truck is coming tomorrow?”  Brenda 
asked distractedly, searching through the study drawers.

“Yep, the trucker Dwane is coming to pick up some steers in the 
morning.  He’ll find our eunuch friend easily enough, don’t worry.”

As he goes to join Brenda a book catches Erik’s attention in the 
lounge.  

“Ah, here it is”  he says smiling.  “Our castration paperback.  The 
bait for our little eunuch-wannabes to swallow.  Let’s see what 
story he was up to.”  Erik flicks through the pages until he comes 
to the bookmark.  “Retribution, my favourite!  Good old elastrator 
story.  Remember?  The vet bands a guy’s nuts because he thinks he 
raped his son...  turns out he gets so excited with torturing the 
guy the vet has a heart attack.  The guy’s left tied up with a band 
around his nuts in the middle of nowhere.  Sexual punishment at its 
best I reckon... ”

“Yeah, well in the last week three more guys who have bought an EZE 
bander on the internet have also bought that castration torture 
book on the net.  So three matches mean three more serious 
candidates for a castration fetish for us to follow-up”.  Brenda 
smiled.  Her computer hacking skills came in handy.  

“Great” called out Erik from the lounge.  “I band them, you 
cut ’em.  What a team.  I‘ve got the balls, you‘ve got the brains!”

Brenda laughed to herself.  “Damn right Erik, you’ve got the 
balls.”  But for how long?


THE END





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