Gangs, Balls, and Banded Sacs

Right now the gang members were gathered just because one of them had failed to live the code. To rat on a fellow member was unforgivable, and everyone knew it. Johnny Cramer knew it too, but somewhere along the line he had forgotten it. When the police had stuck him with four counts of dealing, he had crumpled under the threat of a long prison sentence and talked like there was no tomorrow to get out of it...squawking out the names and implicating his friends to gain his own release. If it wasn’t for the code it would have been understandable. Hell, he was just 21 then, and scared, and the cops had him and so he had sung like a bird he had oh he had. Shit...he knew it too and he also knew it was wrong. It had gotten him off though, with nothing but a misdemeanor, while two of his former friends were convicted and ended up in the “penn.” It had seemed smart, back then, but not now, and he knew the code and he knew he had broken it. He was scared shitless, and had been since the cops had let him go. It hadn’t taken the gang long to find him, and now he was tied, standing in the old warehouse on the little platform of a stage while the rest of his friends and fellow Scorpions were standing around him watching. His arms were stretched out and tied over his head, over the beam that ran through the warehouse ceiling. His t-shirt had been ripped, ripped as they had tied him, and while it still was on his shoulders his chest was exposed and the right armpit of the shirt was torn and hung open, exposing his armpit and entire right side. His jeans had been taken when they had strung him up, and now he was standing in his gap boxers, the oh-so-cool ones that he loved so much. Only he preferred it a lot more when he wasn’t showing them off to anyone. His hands were tied, his wrists bound together and his arms in the air. Otherwise, he could move and turn, and as he turned he didn’t see much sympathy in the faces that were staring back at him.

The leader of the Scorpions, Chris Harriman, was standing at the bottom of the little platform looking up at him, at the young man the gang all knew as Johnny. He was pissed, and while he at one time really liked the kid, as he thought of him, that was a long time ago. As he walked forward, and up on the stage, the other gang members stepped aside, making room, curious to see what would happen and knowing that the code required that something had to be done. All of them were pretty sure what it was going to be, and yet you could never be sure, not with Chris running things now. Still, there was the big gallon jar, in the “ready room” as they called it, and it was more than half full of the tied scrotums of guys that had been more than a little stupid over the years. The code said that when you joined the Scorpions you gave your manhood to the gang. If you left the gang, or were kicked out, then you left your manhood behind. It was a simple rule, but a powerful one. Needless to say, the Scorpions for the most part stayed, and their loyalty was total and complete. They were not a gang to fool with, and while they didn’t believe in murder as a rule some of the guys they dealt with probably wished they were dead after they had lost their balls.

As Chris came up on stage, Johnny began to speak: “Chris...Oh God...Chris...please.....please man....I tried to call you...I did...you know me Chris...we are friends...I mean I know I screwed it but please...oh PLEASE don’t take em....please..please not that Chris.”

The leader looked at him, and answered: ”Oh Johnny, you know, I was up at the Penn today. Went in to visit Bobby and Frank...and they aren’t too happy. Bobby got 5 years thanks to you, and Frank, well Franky boy was crying his heart out and from what they are tellin’ him he is gonna be in there a very long time. If you hadn’t fingered them you would have been out in a year or two. Hell, you are barely 21. Yep. Just barely a full fledged adult, and hell, they would have gone soft with you. It was your first offense man. You did wrong Johnny...you chickened and you broke the code. You know what has to happen, and so do I.”

“Please...Chris....I had to talk...I mean....they had me....they told me they would throw away the key man....OH GOD....don’t take em from me...Please Chris, you guys are the only family I have. I love you guys, and you know it. The Scorpions are all I have and you know I’ve been a good member. You know I have!”

“No Johnny, you broke the code. It can’t go unpunished, and you can’t stay. There is no room for you in the Scorpions now, no room at all. I promised Bobby and Frank that I’d take them myself, today, and it’s gonna be done and you know it’s gonna happen. You know it should happen too Johnny, you know it.”

Johnny started crying...the tears flowing from his eyes. He looked out at the gang, his friends for so long, and there wasn’t any mercy in their stares. He turned back to Chris, and then he said: “Ohhhhhhhhh, God. Oh not THAT Chris...I mean, not THAT. I’m only 21, you know I am..just turned 21 and you gave me the cake and the six pack and made such a deal of it. You arranged my party...oh PLEASE Chris, please! Remember? Please, don’t take em.....do something else. I’ll do anything man....I’ll pay you guys back somehow....I will. Oh pleasessssssssse. I wanna be a Scorpion. Oh please!”

Chris Harriman looked hard at him. The lad was young, good looking, with a firm, flat chest and strong, powerful muscles. He had that light blond hair and blue eyes that the girls died for, and he also had that hard body to match that reflected his youth and the time he spent at the gym building it up. His upper lip was growing a thickening peach fuzz, not quite a mustache but more than just nothing across the lip. His armpits sprouted small patches of hair, and right now the hair there was damp and he was sweating. It was a pity in a way to unman him, but something had to be done, and this was one man that had broken the code. With that thought, Chris Harriman reached out and grabbed his Gap shorts, and with a single, quick motion, he jerked them down, hard, until they came to the young man’s knees. His dick was hanging limp and scared, hanging down below his little patch of blond pubic hair. His balls were drawn up and his sac was firm and round. The young man gasped as his shorts were lowered, and he looked down, down at his own limp dick and the balls that he knew he was going to lose. His faced flushed red as everyone stared. He started whimpering then, and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his fear, and then, in desperation, he starting begging again, hoping for a miracle and desperate to delay the inevitable.

“Ohhhhhhhh, GOD. Oh...oh no. Oh PLEASE Chris....please let me work to make it up. I’ll do anything....just don’t take them. Not in the jar...oh GOD NOT IN THE JAR. Please....I’ve got a girl now Chris...you met her...oh please...don’t take my balls. I love this girl and she’s my first girl that ever amounted to anything. Please, for God’s sake! Don’t take my balls. Please don’t Chris....PLEASE!”

Chris reached out with his right hand and gently cupped the young man’s balls. As he fondled them, lightly feeling the hairs and gently touching them, he let his thumb slide along the side of the sac, gently back and forth, tickling his sack and feeling the orbs within it. As he was doing that, he answered: “Well....such a nice set too. Seems a pity..doesn’t it.....ah...yes....you have some little hairs there too, and it’s got a good weight to it. You know...I know about Sandra...yeah...nice girl she is...and you were so excited when you fucked her that first time too. Yeah...not that long ago, we talked all night after you did her.....sad now...thinking of it...of your only real girl and now, your fucking days behind you. Yeah...seems such a waste to end your days sliding your hard cock in and out of a wet pussy. No more pussy. Bad break Johnny. No more...no more hard cocks even. But don’t look so sad Johnny; you know it as well as I do that these beauts have got to go. They aren’t yours, haven’t been since you joined us, and now that you are leaving well, you know you can’t take em with you. Nope, you are gonna be leaving them behind. Still, seems such a pity to take them. You know...as I am feelin em, touching them, they seem such a nice set too....young and so full of cream and I can see by the way your dick is growing that you like having them held. Yeah...well, your dick is getting excited and perhaps it knows that your balls aren’t really yours anymore and they need to go in the jar.”

Then, looking down at one of the members, Chris said “Jason, go get the jar. Johnny’s got something to contribute to it.”

The boy’s dick was growing stiff from the feeling of his balls being touched...and within only a few minutes, while all the gang looked on, it grew until it was rock hard and jutting out and up, almost as if he was eager for a fucking even though there wasn’t a woman in the room for him to mount. Soon his dick was literally and figuratively dripping, and his balls were tight and firm, the boy’s big sack filled with his orbs. When he heard the word “jar” his dick had bounced, almost as if it was excited, eager even for his own unmanning. The boy then had started babbling, the fear increasing by the second as his balls were being felt and handled. When Jason came back with the big jar, filled with scores of human balls floating in formaldehyde, he almost feinted.

“OH please...OH GOD. OH GOD. No...not MY balls. Oh please....oh no...not that...NOT THE JAR!!!! I’m sorry...I’m sorry Chris...I’m sorry....give me another chance man...I won’t let you down. You don’t have to take them....not in the jar....I’ll not let you down I won’t. I swear! I swear to God Chris....just give me another chance!”

Chris Harriman continued to caress his sac, sliding his fingers under the sac and cupping it...then tickling it gently.....rubbing his fingers lightly over the skin as he listened to the boy’s begging. Yes...such a pity. He had a nice set, and it was gonna be a shame. The girl would not be happy either, but she would get over it, and there were plenty of members that would be willing to fuck her if a fuck was what she wanted. Well, it was time. Chris let go of the boy’s balls and turned around then, ignoring the crying and the tears that were now flowing down the boy’s 21 year old cheeks. After he turned around, he took the case that was being held up to him. It was about three feet long, and heavy, and he picked it up and then set it on the small stand that had been placed on the stage for that purpose. He could feel the young man watching him, carefully watching every movement. When he opened the case, the man gasped.

Chris couldn’t help but smile. At the top of the case were two clothespins. He looked at them, and wondered how many nipples they had pinched and how many balls had been taken while they squeezed hard on a man’s nipples. He took the clips, and then, without any hesitation, he just turned around and clipped them, one at a time, to the nipples of the 21 year old staring at him.

The reaction was immediate. The young man went wide-eyed....his nipples feeling like they were being crushed, even if they were not. He struggled, then said “OH SHIT...OH GOD..THAT HURTS...OH SHIT MAN..TAKE EM OFF...OH TAKE EM OFF CHRIS--PLEASE!!!!” As he yelled, the gang members watching actually laughed, a loud laugh that really set the mood. Ignoring his begging, Chris looked back down, at the box, and the device resting in the green velvet. It was beautiful. Called an “E-Z Bander”, it was made of polished chrome and it was designed for castrating bulls. It worked well for its intended purpose, and it also worked well on a human male. It was sure-proof, and easy to operate, and as he held it in his hand he could feel the young male staring at it...looking at it with an interest that only one about to be castrated could really understand. As he watched, his nipples aching, Chris picked up the device and opened the handles. Next, working slowly, he took the thick surgical tubing that was the heart and soul of the device, and slid in the piece through the ratcheting lever, over the roller, and then around, forming a loop. With the other end he pushed it over the second roller, and then back through the ratcheting lever and out the back of the device. He then closed the handles. The loop of surgical rubber was sticking out the end of the device, and the six-inch loop was ready, and just looking for something to strangle.

Johnny was watching everything....and although his lips were still quivering he wasn’t really talking anymore, not after the clothespins had been snapped on his nipples. He knew it was real, and the pain in his nipples told him it was beginning. He had heard of it being done to others and he had even seen the jar. Why had he broken the code? WHY? As he looked at the bander, he knew it was going to happen to him and the time was now. He hadn’t been a member long enough to have seen it mind you, but he had heard the stories and had seen the jar, and now that he was staring at the bander and feeling the pain in his nipples he knew it was real. The tears were flowing out of his eyes, his mind already feeling the loss and all that it was going to mean. He stared at the device, watching everything, wondering what it was going to feel like and knowing that he was about to find out. As he watched, Chris loaded the steel crimps into the jaws, so that they were around the tube as it exited the machine. Finished, Chris looked up at him, and smiled. Then he spoke.

“Johnny, it’s all ready. Ready for you. Don’t worry, the E-Z Bander is simple, and it does a neat job. You know you deserve it, and besides, the rest of the gang needs to see it work from time to time. It’s a good reminder for all of us, the code is the code and it applies to everyone. You knew that. I guess it’s time now, wouldn’t you say?” As he said that, he started to move the bander up, towards the boy’s genitals. As he did so, the boy started to squirm, and turned around and tried to face away, to keep what was going to happen from happening. With a nod from their leader, several of the other members jumped up on stage, and came up to the boy and spun him back around. Holding him, the members knelt down and grabbed the boy’s thighs, steadying him, and forcing him to face the leader and wait for his unmanning. His prick was jutting straight out and upward, almost as if it was trying to get out of the way to make the job easier.

Seeing him squirming in his desperation, Chris then said: “Johnny...Johnny my boy, I’m ashamed of you. You know you broke the code. Don’t make me tie your legs apart to put on the band. It is time and you and I both know it. Besides, when it’s all said and done I’ll take off the clips, and then you will feel better. So, stop whining. Spread your legs, and accept it... If you struggle, we are gonna hold you down and then we are gonna put on the band anyway and if we do that I don’t know when I’ll get around to taking off the clips on your nipples. So, stand there like a man, and stop fighting and just enjoy getting what you deserve.”

The young man looked at him, the tears flowing. His lip was quivering more, and he was babbling then: “Oh...oh God....oh GOD its gonna hurt man...oh GOD my balls....oh why.....oh not my balls...I don’t want to loose em Chris...I don’t want to loose em. Mommy....oh GOD..mommy...not my balls don’t let them take my balls oh please oh please oh please.” With that, the tears just opened like a river, and as he stood there, unmoving, crying, Chris moved the device up to the youth’s balls, and then with one hand he worked the loop of surgical rubber over the young man’s scrotum, up high until it was around it. Once he had it in place, he began to pump the handle of the bander.

“CLICK...TICK..........CLICK.......TICK...........CLICK.......TICK”

With each ratchet of the handle, the loop of thick rubber was reduced in size. CLICK.....TICK. CLICK....TICK. CLICK.....TICK. Tighter and tighter the rubber loop was pulled....at first it was just air it was grabbing. Then, it was gently touching the scrotum....then tighter still, pinching into the skin, then tighter...and tighter....and tighter....and TIGHTER. Suddenly, the boy screamed.

“ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG” OH GOD! OH GOD THAT HURTS-----then he started to struggle like a madman, trying to move, to somehow get away and stop the pain that was grabbing at his balls and squeezing them like they had never been squeezed. The other gang members on his sides held him...held his legs, and the leader of the Scorpions kept squeezing the handles, tightening the band more and more and more. CLICK...... TICK. CLICK......TICK. CLICKKKKKKK......TICKKKKKKKKKKKKK. “OH..OH...OH.....ARGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” He bucked his hips in desperation, the rubber growing ever smaller and trapping his balls and isolating them from his body.

Finally, it was done. The device had reached the end of the retraction limit, and the surgical tubing was as tight as it could be retracted. The top of the boy’s scrotum was pulled so tight and made so small that it literally looked like the circle of rubber was a single point....the top of the scrotum was so small in fact that it didn’t even look like a piece of flesh anymore, much less like part of a man’s scrotal sac. The young man’s balls themselves were now cut off from the blood they had been nourished with for the previous 21 years, and the testicles bulged within their sac and sent waves of pain to his brain. He grunted from the feeling....almost like someone was kicking him in the groin, and then doing it again, and again, and again. It was a continuous “kick” that had no beginning and no end...just the pain and the pain and the pain. Meanwhile, his prick was still hard and stiff, and had grown even stiffer if that was possible as the handle had ratcheted closed his sac. With the handle bottomed out, Chris pulled a different lever, and there was a snap as the machine crimped the tubing and then snipped off the excess. What was left was a tiny, very tiny, circle of rubber with a metal crimp keeping it closed, crushing the top of the sac and strangling the young man’s balls within it.

Johnny’s eyes were wide....the feeling in his nutsack beyond anything he was prepared for. He looked down, and could see his balls bulging in his scrotum, and as he looked at them he could see them turn almost instantly bright red, flushed as they desperately sought the oxygenated blood that was gone to them forever. He bucked his hips then, struggling to get it off....turning and twisting in his desperation to somehow free his balls and save them in the process. He moved his legs together, then apart....then together, bending his knees and hanging from the ropes...then turning, twisting, and bouncing up and down. Nothing he did made any difference. He was grunting then, the deep pain primal, his hard prick so stiff and bouncing to his heartbeat, the tip starting to ooze copious amounts of precum that was literally drooling down, out of his tip and hanging almost in a thin line to the knees. He was desperate then, and he tried to talk, but the words were gone and the pain that had taken him over was just too much for him to speak. He grunted, his blue eyes wide open, desperate, and as he looked around the room he was met with the smiling faces of his fellow members, all pleased and even excited to be watching his balls die.

“I know Johnny. I know. It’s not a lot of fun to lose them, and I know it hurts as they are dying in their sac. Just stand there and wait it out....it takes about an hour and perhaps a little bit more and then the feelin will start getting just a little better. Just got to be patient.” Then, reaching out to the boy, Chris wiped some of the tears that were flowing out of the boy’s eyes. After doing that, he continued.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Such great big crocodile tears Johnny. You know you deserve this....don’t cry so. My, your balls are already startin to darkin’ up now. Yep....they are getting the deeper red they get when they can’t get the nourishment they want. Soon they will be sorta purple, and after that they will get real dark and that’s when they will start to get cold. Soon they will match the color of the ones in the jar and you won’t even want them anymore. So, just wait it out.... I know..I know...your nipples hurt too. That’s ok...they deserve to hurt, like your balls deserve to hurt, and you know you deserve it and after a while I’m gonna take them off and then they won’t hurt you anymore. You know, your cock is really drooling Johnny.....just so full of cum it is I guess. You should have jacked off this morning. Well, I’m sorry...I can’t let you cum now, not as a man I can’t. Nope, not yet, but in just a little while I’ll take care of that for you too, after your balls are gone and you aren’t a man anymore. Don’t worry....I won’t leave you frustrated today and your cock full and oozing. Just be patient, and wait it out. God, your balls are really bulging, and your cock is so stiff I almost think it’s enjoying this!”

With that, Chris stepped off the stage, and worked his way to the far side of the warehouse, leaving Johnny to hang by his wrists and feel his balls die. As he walked away, Chris was followed by the other gang members. There were business items to be discussed, and they had to go over the planned operations that would keep them busy over the next few months. The meeting was a typical one, in spite of the beginning. As they talked about their plans, and discussed the future and the past, they ignored the young man they had just banded, leaving him instead to hang by his rope and feel the feeling that no man ever wants to feel. Watching his balls die. It’s a terrible thing to have to do, and the helplessness can be overwhelming as you can see the rubber tie, and see the little crimp, and see the balls getting darker and not being able to reach down there and save them. It a very frustrating feeling. Watching your balls die. Yes, a terrible thing to do. Johnny of course was doing just that, barely standing now, most of the weight on his arms that were stretched over the beam in the ceiling. He was limp, like a rag doll, staring at his balls and watching them grow darker and darker with each minute that past. They hurt so fucking bad! He tried moving his legs wide apart, rubbing them together and pushing them tight together, popping his balls out and making them bulge even more. Nothing he did though made any difference. His balls were dark and dying and it didn’t matter how he moved his legs or how much he jerked or rubbed his thighs together. His balls were dying sure as shit they were, and he knew it. As he watched and felt it happen, the tears flowed down his face and he stood and felt his misery and all he could do was cry as it happened. On the little stand, next to him, was the jar, and as he looked at the jar and the scrotums that filled it, he thought of all the other men that had lost their balls. He wondered what it had been like for them. How much it hurt when they were finally cut off. He wondered what they were doing now, now that they had lost their balls. Oh FUCK it hurt....so fucking bad.

Time passed slowly, and the young man’s banded balls grew darker and darker and slowly began to grow numb. The meeting lasted close to two hours, and by the time it was over his balls were dead. Dead and dark and cold. Still, his prick was still stiff, and from the end of his stiff prick a long line of drool ran to the floor. When Chris and the gang returned, coming back to the young man with the stiff prick and dark balls, they found him staring down, down at his tied balls and his dead manhood. Chris then reached out and grabbed his stiff cock, and when he did the young man looked up, and their eyes met. Chris slowly began to jerk the young man’s rod, and as he did so he began to speak:

“Hey Johnny....you missed a great meeting. Yeah, a great meeting. You aren’t a man anymore, you aren’t you know. Your balls are dead, and even though they are hanging on you still they aren’t really yours anymore. Now your prick, well you’ve got a nice prick, and I can tell it is still very much alive. Yeah, for now it is, but you know soon without your balls your prick isn’t going to stay hard anymore.” The 21 year old started to grunt, partly from the feeling growing in his cock and partly because the spot was hurting, the tender little spot where the top of his scrotum was attached to his body. Chris dropped the boy’s cock and reached up and slowly unhooked the leather tie that held the scorpion pendant around his neck. Removing it, he reached down, to where the dark balls were hanging, and there he retied the pendant around the young man’s sac, until it was tight, tied just below where the crimped rubber was doing its job. With the loop of leather below the band, the little scorpion pendant was tied against his balls, becoming in a way a part of the scrotum on which it had been secured. Johnny never flinched, the feeling in his numb balls no longer feeding the sensations from them to his brain. He knew the leather was tied around his nads though, but he didn’t feel it as the knot was made. Chris was moving slowly, and then he reached up, and jerked off the two clothespins that had been squeezing Johnny’s nipples. As the blood rushed back into them, he screamed, the pain intense, and shocking.

“Oh GOD...oh SHIT....oh...oh...oh GOD.”

Then, ignoring him, Chris reached back, into his pocket, and while the young man watched, he pulled out his switchblade, and holding it up to his face so he could see it, he pressed the button and the blade popped out. Nothing was said...nor needed to be. Chris grabbed Johnny’s rod again, and then once again he began to stroke it. It was so stiff, like a piece of steel, and the tip was still drooling and the line of precum ran and hung down and glistened in the lights. Chris looked him in the eyes, and stood right next to him, the faces of the two men so close you feel the heat of the moment. As Chris stroked the young man’s cock, he slowly brought the knife down, down to his balls, and hooked the blade up, next to the metal band. The knife rested in a little notch there, just below the crimped band, between the rubber that had strangled the testicles and the leather cord that held the pendant. He started stroking the penis faster then, faster still, his hand moving like a piston. Suddenly, the young man grunted, and then with a shudder he started pumping out a long, thick rope of cum, shooting out of his cock with such violence and with such intensity it was almost as if he knew it was his last. As he shot his spunk, Chris moved his other hand, and as he made the movement the knife did the work. It seemed to happen in slow motion. The rope of cum was still shooting out in waves, shot after shot, vivid and intense, the boys eyes open and staring wide, his mouth open as well with the feeling. It was the most intense orgasm of his life, and as it happened Chris castrated him. His balls came off with the switchblade, clean and neat, dropping with a splat on the floor as the young man convulsed and his dick continued to spasm. His sperm seemed to shoot forever, just on and on. Chris kept his hand moving, pumping his ball-less dick, slowly pumping it until it had been pumped dry and then even then, he pumped it still. Slowly it began to soften, even as he was stroking it, and when that began to happen he let it go, and reached down and picked up the severed sac that was no longer part of the young man who had carried it for more than 21 years.

Chris dropped the balls in the jar, and resealed the lid. They floated at the top for a minute, then slowly the still creamed filled balls began to sink to the bottom, resting on the pile that was submerged in the preserving fluid. As they sank, Chris handed the jar to one of his lieutenants, and then he spoke to the young castrated man who was whimpering with his loss.

“Nice wad Johnny. I hope it was a good one. It was the last wad you will ever shoot with any sperm in it. Within a few days you won’t get hard anymore, and after that your dick will hang like a noodle and you eventually will give up even trying to make it perform. I am gonna leave you in a minute, but want to give you three messages. If you forget what I am about to tell you, then I’m gonna come back and fine you and if I do I’ll take this cock too, and if I do that you aren’t even gonna be able to pee.”

Chris then picked up Johnny’s spent cock, and slowly played with it again, gently, feeling the wet tip and caressing the boy’s slippery dick. It was like a noodle, soft and hanging, but still it felt good as it was handled and you could tell from the young man’s reaction that he was enjoying it to a degree. It was wet with his slime. Still, it didn’t grow hard.

“Yeah, such a nice dick. If I were you, I’d do what I was told, cause if you don’t then I’m gonna take it from you. I swear I will. So don’t you dare to cross the line. Here is what you are gonna do, for the rest of your life.”

“Number one, I’m going to have your pubes shaved. You aren’t a man, and you don’t deserve to have pubes anymore. So, you remember that and you keep it smooth. No hairs allowed, anymore, not ever. Nothing in your armpits and nothing above your dick. Don’t even think about a beard, and get that hair off your lip. Don’t worry, it won’t want to grow for long anyway, so it should be easy to keep it smooth. But just make sure, and when those few hairs start to come back in you better make sure you take em right off. That’s the first rule for you, no more sexual hair, ever! You understand that?”

Johnny was looking right at him, feeling his dick and Chris’s hand moving up and down the soft shaft. The tip was so sensitive, and the pain where his balls used to hang was still pronounced, and as he felt his dick being moved around it actually hurt deep in his groin. He nodded his head, YES, he understood.

Chris continued then: “Number two, we are gonna put you on a bus in the morning. When I saw him today I asked Franky where he wanted you to live, and he said West Virginia. Now, good old West-by-God Virginia is a beautiful state, it is, and there is plenty to do there. I don’t care what you do...you can turn burgers, work in the mines, or be a castrated bum on the streets if you want. Just don’t ever leave that great state. It’s your new home, and you stay there. For the rest of your life. If you leave that state, ever, we will track you down and find you and if we have to do all of that then I’ll be taking a lot more than your dick. I mean it. You understand?”

Johnny stared. His eyes started to cry again. He had been there once before, through Charleston and then south to Logan and over the winding roads. Yeah, he even remembered passing through little unincorporated communities, and the old mine houses set in the “hollers” as they called them. Oh GOD! He hated the mountains. Sure, it was a beautiful place, but not the kind of state he would choose, not for himself, and work was hard to come by and he knew for him personally it was like being sent to hell. He wondered what it was gonna to be like living there, and he wondered how the hillbillies of West Virginia would treat a eunuch if they figured him out? The tears were running down his cheeks then, and yet he didn’t protest and instead just nodded.

Chris then said: “Number three, don’t ever see a doctor and try and get hormones. You even think of taking any hormones and your dick is coming off. You see, from time to time we are gonna pay you a visit. Now, it will be a real nice short little visit, and all we will want to do is to make sure that you are doing your three things, like a good little boy. So, we will come and visit you, and you will get to take down your pants and show us that hairless, castrated dick of yours. Then, well, then, we are gonna hold your dick, just like I am holding it now. And just like now, it better stay limp, hanging, like a noodle, cause if it doesn’t then I’m gonna know you are taking something, and if you are then I’ll make sure this dick never gets stiff again. If you pop a boner on us, ever again, well, we will take that bone right off and add it to the jar. You got THAT Johnny?”

Staring, eye to eye, he nodded. The tears were flowing then, and he looked down at the jar and saw his balls here, his scorpion pendant tied around them, trapping his black testicles in his dead sac. Castrated. Unmanned. A eunuch. Oh GOD.

Chris gave him a little pat on the top of his head. Then he said “OK...then see you later Johnny. Don’t forget the three things.” With that, he turned around, and picked up the jar and started to walk away. As he did, he said “Jason, take care of it. Make sure his crotch and pits and that stupid mustache on his lip are as smooth as a baby’s ass, and then put him on the bus and get his ass down to West Virginia. I want him out of here.”

With that, Chris walked out of the warehouse and into the sunshine, the big scrotum jar in his hands.

[Authors comments: OK...this is another saga in the ‘Gangs’ series. I’m not sure I’ll do more, but I might, depending on how it is received. If it pressed a button of yours, I’d appreciate hearing about it. Thanks. Nathan9001@yahoo.com]