Banded (Part 1)
By: bandingfan (bandingfan@hotmail.com)
[GAY] [TESTICLES] Other:
A 30 year old farmer with a banding fetish gets more than he
bargained for when a new farm manager comes to play.
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BANDED (Part 1)
It’s late Saturday afternoon on the farm and I’m flicking though a
paperback waiting for Erik to arrive. Stories of men and torture
are my favourite. A couple of weeks ago I’d ordered a Badboy book
on castration from the catalogue section of a gay magazine. It had
arrived in this morning’s post and I hadn‘t had a chance to look
until now.
Wow. The stories look really hot. I don’t have a lot of time so I
scan for any reference to elastrators or banding - guaranteed to
give me a hard on. One story has a vet in it which automatically
catches my eye. For the whole 30 years of my life I’ve worked on a
200 hectare farm - my parents raised beef cattle so castration of
bull calves has always been a routine chore throughout the year.
Now my parents’ve moved into the city and I’m in charge. Me and
the new farm manager, Erik, run the whole operation.
Retribution is the name of the story with the vet. I’m good at
speed reading erotic fiction and it doesn’t take long to find the
passages I’m looking for. The vet’s son has been raped and
tortured by a farmhand drifter. Now the vet’s tracked the farmhand
down leaving a saloon, knocked him unconscious and taken him to a
remote shack. He’s got the guy spread--eagled in the cabin when
he starts to wake up. My concentration starts to focus on what’s
about to happen.
“When the vet turned to face the captive, he held a small implement
up for the other to see, pleased to note the bobbing motion at the
farmhand’s throat as fear forced the big man to swallow hard. The
vet chuckled harshly. “You know what this is, don’t you?” he
asked. He brandished the small, pliers-like device close to the
farmhand’s face, allowing his prisoner a good look before slipping
a small, heavy ring of green rubber over the prongs. As he
squeezed the handles, the loop stretched approximately an inch in
diameter.
“Oh I’m a very modern vet” he continued in response to the
farmhand’s horrified expression. “When I’m called to work on a
bull calf , I don’t cut his balls off any more. I just clamp one
of these little elastrator rings around the base of his sac and it
does the whole job. For a steer it’s much less painful than the
old-fashioned method of castration, but maybe that’s because the
steer don’t know what’s happening to him. ’Course you will.
You’ll know exactly what’s happening as this little piece of rubber
bites down, cuts off all the circulation to your balls. You’ll see
the sac shrivel up, turn purple, then black before it rots away
and finally just falls off...”
This is the sort of stuff I’m always searching for. The scene
where one male is about to castrate another male, geld him,
forcefully take away his manhood and make him weak and docile. And
banding is my favourite castration method - so simple, so easy, so
economical. And so effective.
My dick is throbbing and I start to stroke it gently, but then put
the thought of any premature jerk-off out of my mind. Erik should
be here any minute and tonight we’re going to have some fun. I
reluctantly put the book down and go to find some appropriate
clothing for the night’s events.
Erik MacDonald. Thirty-three or thereabouts. Single, bi, fit and
a true alpha male. As soon as he came to the farm to ask about the
vacant position of farm manager I knew he had potential. It’s not
hard to spot a guy that just oozes testosterone - and I knew that
getting-off was never going to be far from his mind. So I figured
what the heck, and offered him the job on the spot. Two weeks
later he’s moved in to the small farm-manager’s lodgings about two
kilometres down the track from the main farmhouse.
Tonight is going to be when Erik proves his value. Last week-end
had been the test and he’d passed, with more than a few surprises
up his sleeve.
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It’s April 2000 - spring in the northern hemisphere and the busiest
time on any farm. We had around 50 calves ranging in age from 1
week to 4 months, and some hangover bulls that had already reached
10 months. Last week-end I figured there were a couple of
outstanding jobs Erik and I ought to tackle - and banding the bulls
was high on my list. A perfect opportunity to test the water and
see what fetishes lay just under the surface of this stud’s mind.
Dad had always been very careful to elastrate the bulls as young as
possible. He’s a stickler for following rules and the instructions
that originally came with the elastrator say the rubber rings are
intended for use on calves no older than two weeks and lambs and
goats no older than 30 days. I should know, the instructions that
came with the elastrator are practically ingrained on my mind.
That sheet had some pretty graphic photos of the bands being put to
use and a few quirky rules. I particularly remember that the
makers assumed castration was a man’s job (“Calves can be castrated
held in a sitting position, with the back legs lying on the ground,
and the fore-legs held by one man while another man applies the
rubber ring...”). They also followed the standard 100% painless
line (“When released calves show no sign of pain or suffer any
setback.”) Yeah, right!
The problem was that I’d let things slide when I was looking for a
farm manager and some of the bull calves had grown way too big to
fit the elastrator bands. I didn’t want the trouble of running a
herd of mature bulls so had two choices - sell them and lose money,
or call the vet and have an expensive castration fee.
It was only by chance searching on the internet that I came across
a site for the eze-bander. Latex tubing, instead of rubber
elastrator bands, allows you to easily band larger animals. And
after 15 years with an elastrator fetish I was keen to see how a
bander, that tightens a latex loop slowly around the scrotum, would
compare...
Three weeks later the eze arrived in its red carrier bag along with
plenty of instructions and a 10 minute video. Didn’t take me long
to slip it into the VCR - some great footage of scrotums being tied
off by farmers keen to show how quick and easy the whole process
is. Not surprisingly the banded bulls on the film all looked
undisturbed and wandered about as if nothing had happened. Still,
the audio had been cut when one of the banding farmworkers
commented on the bulls’ reaction. From what I can make out he
seemed surprised, and another guy said “oh yeah” agreeing with his
observation. Still can’t get that out of my mind. Sure, to start
with the bulls don’t seem to notice the band. It’s only just
sealed off the neck of the scrotum so there’s not a lot of pain.
Wait a few minutes though and those bulls know something serious
has happened to them. Probably can’t make out exactly what, but
that band starts to make its presence felt. My guess is the
farmworker figured out the castration process isn’t as painless as
the makers of farm castration equipment would have you believe.
Wasn’t long after that Erik had come to the farm, so my banding
week-end would be the first time I could try the eze out. Erik was
keen to give it a go, so he took the video home the Friday night.
The next day was cold and overcast. Erik and I both wore standard
khaki overalls and farm boots and were ready for a couple of hour’s
work putting the bander to use.
“No problems about the bander - I’ll do the castrating op” Erik
smirked as we ran the first big bull into the race. “Video was
short ’n sweet. Had the girlfriend over for dinner and we watched
it four times to make sure I got the gist.”
I’d seen Erik with a woman who helped him move in, so it didn’t
surprise me to hear he had a girlfriend. Though watching a
castration video didn’t seem like a regular thing to do on a date.
“Yeah? What did she reckon?” I quizzed, curious about what
happened.
He hesitated for a second, then grinned. “Said it was so simple
I’d better not cheat on her or she’ll put it to good use on my
sac.” He reached down to stretch a rubber ring over the spreader
bar of the tool and continued. “Yeah, that’s Brenda. Always
making threats about me playing around. Figured I’d call her bluff
and said ‘now’s your chance to practice’”. Erik’s eyes flicked up
to make sure he had my attention. “Well, the video said to
rehearse the process several times short of doing the actual
castration. So, y’know. I figured why not. It’s supposed to be
painless and all that, and I had my knife handy to stop meself
being steered for good.” He shrugged as though it wasn’t a big
deal and pulled the rubber ring open over the shaft hook so it was
wide enough to slip over the bull’s scrotum.
“ ’Sides, I was interested to see just what them bulls today are
going to feel” he went on. “Ever thought of giving it a go
y’rself?”
I tried to hide my surprise at what he was telling me. “Sure, it’s
occurred to me once or twice. Problem is I’m alone, so unlike you
I’ve got no one to help me out.”
Erik seemed to consider this for a second as he ran his hand over
the bull’s scrotum and manoeuvred the triangular stretched rubber
ring as close to the testicles and as far below the belly as
possible. “Yeah, definitely easier with someone else there” he
grunted. “Man was Brenda keen on the idea! The thought of having
my balls under her control was enough to keep us going all night!”
He stopped talking while he held the scrotum forward and pulled
back on the tool. The latex ring snapped off the spreader bars and
closed comfortably around the bull’s scrotum. “So?” I coaxed,
watching Erik perform his handiwork like an experienced
professional. “You tried the eze out then?”
Erik frowned for a moment, concentrating on whether the loop was
sitting in the right place before the started to pull it
tight. “Sure. Never had so much fun. Y’know I’ve read somewhere
that one of the things the Japs did during the War was to tie our
men’s hands behind their backs and give them a sample of the rubber
ring method. They said they had never suffered anything so
painful. But hey, if you’re sure you can get the bands off they
can be pretty handy. For keeping it up I mean. If you‘re in to
trying out new things I’d recommend it. ”
I laughed casually and watched as he held the side handle of the
eze steady and pulled the handle at the rear sharply as far back as
he could. The latex ring sprung up through the metal clip and
along the shaft of the tool, tightening hard around the neck of the
scrotum. “Gotcha my friend” he said as he reached down to crimp
the clip and cut the rubber ring from the tool. With a final tug
he pulled the tool away from the clip, leaving the banded scrotum
swinging wildly between the bull’s legs. “No problems at all.
Happy chappy, ain’t ya, little fella.” We both backed away from
the race and gave the bull a whack on the side, encouraging him to
exit into the yard and prepare for life as a steer.
“Hmmmm. Well done. Looked easy enough. And the little guy
doesn’t seem to be suffering” I said, catching Erik’s eye. “You’d
have thought castration like this would hurt like hell, especially
since he’s practically fully grown. Look at him. These bulls’ve
been mounting each other for the last couple of months. They’re
definitely going to notice something’s wrong eventually.”
“Oh sure” said Erik, stepping nearer the yard and watching the new
steer intently. “For the first couple of minutes it’s fine. But
look at em now, starting to flick his tail and move his head
about.” Erik slowly leaned over the fence and I had to consciously
draw my stare away from his muscular form to see what was taking
place in the yard. “Pain comes pretty quick, take it from me.
After last night I know exactly what that guy’s going through.” He
looked at his watch and smiled knowingly. “We gave it three goes
last night. First time I didn’t know what to expect. As soon as
I’d got Brenda to crimp the clip I set my stopwatch to see how fast
my sac would go numb.”
“And...?” I encouraged, relieved that by me also leaning against
the fence my hard-on wasn’t quite as obvious though the farm
overalls.
“First five minutes, no problem. I could feel the band tighten at
the start but it was only a sharp pain and went away pretty
quickly. After that, not a lot of feeling - the band was there, I
knew it was there, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“At 10 minutes I could definitely feel a pinching but the pain
wasn’t too bad. A bit of a dull ache, but if I kept myself still
there were no real problems. My ballsac had turned fairly red at
that point but there was still some feeling there. Probably that’s
where the little fella is right now.” He pointed to the steer who,
I had to admit, did start to look uncomfortable.
“At 15 minutes my body temperature had risen and there were a few
pains in the abdomen. Not a lot different to 10 minutes. The
pinching of the band was a bit sharper.
“By the time I reached 20 minutes the pain was there all right.
The circle of skin beneath the band was noticeably sore. A bit of
a pain in the upper groin too. I was tempted to cut the band off
at that point, but Brenda reckoned I should rough it out a little
more. My balls were cold - had no feeling - at that stage. And my
body temperature was starting to rise.
“When the stopwatch reached 25 minutes I was starting to feel
unwell and uncomfortably hot. That band really had to go - so I
grabbed my farm knife and freed the sac. A couple of seconds later
and wow - the blood-flow was back and I was as horny as hell. At
30 minutes, well, let’s just say Brenda and I started to get the
full benefits from the eze...”
I was excited by Erik’s recount of the night’s events and impressed
that he hadn’t hesitated to tell me what went on. “God damn, who
would have thought!” was about all I could say as he turned and
looked me straight in the eye.
“Yep, pays to play around sometimes to find out what works for ya”
he mused. “You really should give it a go sometime”.
“Perhaps I’ll give you a call when I feel up to it. What do ya
think? Two guys. Hey, at least I could trust you to unband me
since you already know what it feels like. Right?” His openness
had encouraged me to take liberties. And why not? I was the
employer after all. And from the way I’d read Erik up to now he
wasn’t one to get uptight about anything.
“Sure. Guys night in. I’m cool with that”. Erik’s face broke
into a wide grin as he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed
gently. “Brenda’s away next week end, so if you’re around...”
We both turned our backs on the steer, not noticing him or the pain
he was starting to feel. For the rest of the morning we banded the
remaining bulls and spent our time in small talk or discussing farm
work. But after what had just happened my mind kept jumping
forward to the following week-end and imagining what activities
Erik and I could get up to...
(to be continued...)
Any comments? Let me know - bandingfan@hotmail.com
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