Gladiators

In the time following the collapse of the great industrial 
democracies, a corporate world-empire, came into power. In the 
early years of the Empire, political enemies of the state and 
heretics were imprisoned and allowed to rot their lives away in 
dank, rat-infested prisons. However, a new emperor, Pergo the 
Perverted, had hit upon a scheme to "reform" these wayward citizens 
and increase the wealth of the imperial treasury as well. Those 
imprisoned for heresy and political incorrectness would be allowed 
redeem themselves by competing like the gladiators of old, but 
there was an important difference. The losers would not be killed, 
but would be emasculated instead. They would lose everything, penis 
and testicles, and undergo complete nullification. Imperial 
engineers and game architects had developed clever contests and 
apparatuses, ingeniously diabolical and cruel, that allowed the 
emasculations to take place instantly, as part of the contest - all 
performed in the arena in front of thousands leering, cheering 
spectators. So popular was the "sport" that admission and video 
rights had become a major source of revenue for the empire.

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Gladiators

Jake was nervous. This was to be expected. He had trained for two 
weeks since winning his last contest. He had survived the treadmill 
and the pedestal events and was now competing on the crunchers. The 
crunchers comprised the last three events of ten contests.
He tried to relax enough to collect his wits as he looked out on 
the machine in the arena from the contestant's dugout. The machine 
looked similar to something you might see in a gym or fitness 
center, except that it was designed to pit the strength of two 
opponents against each other in seesaw fashion. There were also 
certain innovations and additions required for the machine's 
diabolical purpose. At the beginning of the competition each 
contestant would lay at a forty-five degree angle. The machine was 
held immobile by a large steel pin that would be removed by an 
attendant at the signal from the referee. Then the bitter struggle 
would begin.
The machine essentially required the use of the same muscle groups 
you would use for sit-ups or crunches, hence the name, "cruncher." 
Once the contestant was strapped in, his genitals were bound and 
pulled through small opening in a guillotine device. The guillotine 
was spring-loaded and would be activated by a solenoid when the 
loser was forced into the horizontal position. This would cause a 
razor-sharp blade to instantly cut off his genitals, both penis and 
testicles. They said it really didn't hurt much. Medical attendants 
would move in and immediately begin injecting local anesthetic and 
administering painkillers (morphine intravenously). The real 
anguish would mostly be mental - the realization of how different 
his life would be from this point onward. The very essence of a 
man's being would be altered. All hopes, aspirations, and thoughts 
that once brought joy and euphoria would forever be unrealizable. 
Oh, how abruptly would the loser's destiny be changed forever, as 
he embarked on a new path of docile subservience!

Jake tried not to think about losing, only winning. Attitude and 
control of one's faculties was as important as physical 
conditioning. To the casual observer this contest might appear to 
be nothing but a contest of brute strength, but Jake knew better. 
Your opponent had to be psyched out. He remembered his last 
opponent. He was a well-muscled man, larger than Jake, and very 
intimidating. Jake feared he couldn't defeat him in a contest of 
sheer strength, and the crunchers were as near to that as you could 
get. Jake had devised a simple plan and it worked. As soon as the 
referee gave the signal and the attendant pulled the pin, Jake had 
strained with all his might, immediately forcing his opponent back 
several inches and placing him at a disadvantage. Despite his 
opponent's superior strength, he was never able to recover from 
this initial setback. Jake kept pressing his advantage on an 
opponent who was startled and frustrated. It worked. Before Jake's 
opponent could collect himself enough to put up a good struggle, 
Jake felt the cam break over and heard the ratchet lock click, 
immediately followed by the sound of the guillotine tripping, 
unmanning his opponent.
The man had screamed with frustration and rage, "I wasn't ready, 
goddamn it! I wasn't ready!"
 
The floor show act was just winding down. These shows were somewhat 
like the half-time show put on at football games in the old days. 
They entertained the crowd between events. There were dance 
troupes, gymnasts,  acrobats, and other performers. There was 
always a host of beautiful girls dressed in the sexist costumes 
performing with a handful of suave and debonair men, and of course, 
eunuchs - plenty of eunuchs. The poor creatures were always dressed 
scantily, like the girls, to show off their lack of equipment. Real 
crowd pleasers, most had been unmanned in these very contests. So 
insatiable was the empire's demand for eunuchs that it was 
estimated that over twenty percent of the adult male population was 
now emasculated. 

The arena was a bustle of activity now. Technicians made last 
minute checks of the TV cameras and audio recording equipment. 
Cameras and microphones were everywhere. They wanted to photograph 
the emasculation from every possible angle and catch the facial 
expression and any utterances and verbalizations of the loser. This 
is what the crowd and the viewers paid to see and hear. Strangely, 
this is one sport in which the loser, if ever so briefly, is more 
the center of attention than the winner.

Suddenly the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, 
announcing that the contest was about to begin. Jake recognized the 
voice as Jocco's. Jocco was one of the more popular masters of 
ceremony for the contests. His snide wit and sarcastic humor had 
made him a celebrity among the spectators.
You could still hear vendors hawking  hotdogs and beer in the 
stands, but the tone of the crowd began to change. Jake had heard 
this before. The pitch of the noise dropped and took on a brooding, 
almost sinister tone, reflecting the crowd's prurient enthusiasm 
and sadistic fascination with the event that was about to take 
place.
Applause, mixed with a few cheers suddenly arose from the crowd. 
The trainers, wearing sexy, shimmering, metallic tights, stepped 
into the arena. They circled the machine, showing off their 
ravishing beauty, and took bows before the crowd. At the signal, 
Jake stepped from his dugout and walked toward the center of the 
arena and his opponent did likewise. The two contestants were 
wearing tight, shinny briefs that showed off their packages to best 
advantage. The briefs were specially designed with zippers that 
allowed the crotch to be removed when the men's genitals were 
placed in the guillotines.
More cheers and applause went up from the crowd. Jake took his 
place between his trainers, Wendy and Deborah. Then the three took 
bows together as a team. Wendy was 5' 5" with sandy brown hair and 
green eyes. Her body was compact and muscular. Deborah was taller, 
5' 8", with long black hair that fell below her waist. She had the 
lithe, lean body of a distance runner.
For the first time Jake got a close look at his opponent. His name 
was Ross. He was a burley red-haired man with a ruddy complexion. 
He seemed to be about the same size and weight as Jake; they would 
be evenly matched.
Ross's two trainers were quite beautiful. One was a petite blonde, 
introduced as Karla, and the other, a voluptuous brunette with 
beautifully rounded muscular thighs, was called Liz. Liz reminded 
Jake of a girl he once had a crush on when he was a teenager.
The trainers accompanied their champions as each man took his place 
on the padded bench on his side of the machine. Then each trainer, 
in turn, kissed her champion, lovingly and sensuously. All knew 
that for one contestant this would be the last time he would ever 
kiss or be kissed as a man. The feelings he was feeling at this 
moment would never return again. This always elicited a mixed 
reaction from the crowd. There was applause and a few cheers while 
some said, "Awww," and still others broke into laughter.

The girls then climbed up to their little pulpits, above the 
machine where they would also act as cheerleaders, giving 
encouragement and cheering their champion on. There was a handsome 
monetary reward for the trainers if their man won the contest, 
offering additional incentive to help their champion win. Sometimes 
trainers became too attached to their champions and expressed 
considerable anguish and chagrin at seeing him lose his package. 
This was especially true of the later contests, like this one, 
where the men had lived intimately with their trainers for several 
months. Sports reporters always interviewed the trainers and 
contestants following a match and asked them "how it felt." 
Strangely, the spectators always seemed more interested in the 
reaction of the losing team.
The fast pace of a contestant's life allowed little time for Jake 
to reflect on how he wound up in his present predicament. However, 
at odd moments, such memories would flash back. Jake remembered 
when he was the editor of his college newspaper. He was so naïve 
and idealistic then. He had belonged to an underground club that 
actually thought they could restore the right of free speech to the 
Empire. He had taken the liberty to engage in a little political 
satire in his editorial column and that had landed him in prison. 
That all seemed so stupid now. The important things in life were 
security, good food, good sex, good clothes, and a nice villa. He 
had had the opportunity to be a well-to-do citizen and had thrown 
it away for a bunch of philosophical, idealistic crap.
 Entering the contests gave him a second chance, sort of. Just over 
a thousand men entered each series of contests; only one would win; 
the rest would become eunuch slaves. Nobody really expected to win; 
the odds were too much against it, but the contests were a ticket 
out of prison. Being sold into slavery wasn't really as bad as it 
might sound. Contest losers normally wouldn't be put into the mines 
or forced into agricultural labor. Most of them would wind up as 
live-in domestic servants or be placed in clerical jobs. 
Considering the atrocious conditions in the prisons this was not a 
particularly hard fate, even if you had to become a nullified 
eunuch.
Theoretically, all losers of the contests were equal. It wouldn't 
matter if you were eliminated in your first competition or went all 
the way to the tenth. In reality, however, contest survivors became 
mini-celebrities. The further you went before being eliminated, the 
better chance you stood at being placed in desirable service. If a 
contestant made it to the eighth contest or higher, he was 
virtually assured of being placed as a servant in a wealthy 
household.
Jake's thoughts were interrupted when four eunuch attendants filed 
onto the platform. Their heads were shaved and their bodies were 
completely hairless except for their eyebrows. Their dress was 
traditional for contest attendants. They wore a loose billowy white 
shirt open in front except for one fastening point below the navel. 
They were wearing black leather belts, three inches wide and below 
this, simple white panties, the same kind women wore. They wore the 
panties to emphasize their absence of male genitalia. Being 
completely nullified, they made less of a bulge in their crotches 
than most women.
Two of the eunuchs began strapping Jake into the machine while the 
other two did the same to Ross. They went about their task 
dutifully, their expressions seeming to lack zest and enthusiasm. 
But something about these men, or used-to-be men, was hauntingly 
erotic to Jake. Looking at them turned him on. It turned him on in 
a way that was different from the way women turned him on. He 
couldn't explain it. It was just the way it was. He knew that lots 
of wealthy men in the empire liked to have eunuch concubines. The 
practice was becoming more popular. One of Jake's greatest fears 
was that, after losing a contest, he would be sold as a concubine 
to one of these men. He was really scared of  becoming a butt slave.
Jake winced as the attendants tightened a heavy cord around his 
genitals, securing them in the guillotine. One of the eunuchs cast 
him a wry smile as he noticed Jake was becoming slightly erect. 
This made Jake feel very self-conscious. He looked up at Wendy and 
Deborah in the cheerleaders' pulpit and saw them smiling at him 
with amusement. He sheepishly returned their smile. He knew; the 
girls knew; and the eunuchs knew that it was the eunuchs and not 
the beautiful girls that were causing his erection. More to the 
point, Jake realized that the thought of becoming a eunuch, like 
them, was what he found so erotic. He was thinking about what it 
would be like to be completely smooth in the crotch, making no 
bulge whatsoever. What would it be like to be totally sexless, 
inadequate and harmless? These thoughts were filling him with 
erotic fascination.
Suddenly the sobering reality of the ease, and even the likelihood, 
of how this condition could be obtained jarred him to his senses. 
He must concentrate his thoughts on winning and not be seduced by 
the loser's consolation of imagined enjoyment of perverted 
sexuality. He must force himself to stay focused!
Another eunuch walked onto the platform. He was dressed like others 
except his shirt had the traditional black and white stripes of the 
referee. One of the other eunuchs placed his hand on the pin that 
released the machine. The contest was about to begin.
Jake looked back up at Wendy and Deborah. They were still smiling, 
but they were artificial, plastic smiles for the crowd. He could 
sense their apprehension and concern behind their plastered smiles. 
Oh god, he didn't want to lose this contest! He had lived and 
trained with Wendy and Deborah for almost a year now. He had become 
too attached. In the early years of the contests it was not 
uncommon for trainers to buy back their vanquished champions and 
keep them as eunuch concubines if they were attached to them. Then 
the Emperor changed the rules, forbidding the practice. Too many 
men could live happily as helpless eunuchs as long as they could 
remain with the ones they loved. Emasculation was nothing more than 
an inconvenience at worst, and often it even enhanced a deep 
relationship. The Emperor said it gave losing more finality if the 
defeated contestants could never see their trainers again.

The referee began the countdown and, on the signal, the attendant 
pulled the pin. Jake heaved forward with all that he had and met an 
equal resistance. The trick that won the last contest was not going 
to work on Ross. He could see the determination on Ross's face. 
Ross's fierce brown eyes glared at him from beneath heavy red 
eyebrows. Ross, like Jake, had come to this contest thinking of 
winning as the only possibility. There were no ties and no coming 
back to fight again another day. To not win is to lose. In each 
contest one of the contenders is always sexually annihilated and 
the winner gets to sleep with the loser's trainers (and his own 
too, of course) for the next week. That's the rules.
Jake and Ross pushed against each other for several minutes with 
never more than an inch being traded back and forth between them. 
So far, the competition seemed uneventful, even boring, but these 
contests usually ended suddenly and spectacularly. The end was 
always tragic and heartbreaking for the loser. And that, after all, 
was what the crowd had come to see.
The cheerleader/trainers were yelling encouragement to their 
champions, often describing the sexual delights that were in store 
for them that night after they won. Microphones were placed above 
the pulpits so that the cheerleader's comments were broadcast on 
the PA system. The crowd loved this. They knew that both men would 
be whetted up for a wonderful night of sex and one of them would be 
TERRIBLY disappointed.
As Jake continued to strain against his opponent, he could hear 
Ross's trainers in the pulpit above his own head, out of sight to 
him but visible to Ross.
"Come on, Ross! Nut that creep so we can go home!"
"Yeah, Ross. I want to see you dick that skinny brunette tonight. 
I'll tickle your balls while you boink her, and stick my finger up 
her ass and make her go wild! You'd love that wouldn't you? Come 
on, push him down so we can do it! Me and Liz will help you fuck 
his bimbos!"
Jake's trainers then replied with equal braggadocio.
"Come on Jake, I know you'd like to eat that little blonde. I 
promise not to get jealous. I'll even nibble on your balls while 
you eat her," Deborah called.
"Jake I want to eat that little chunky one myself!" shouted Wendy. 
"You know I've always been bi. Come on, Jake. Win this one for me!"
"Only in your dreams, bitch!" Liz replied.
"I'm going fist fuck you tonight and stretch you out until you 
can't satisfy a donkey!"
The crowd loved this blustering talk going on between the trainers. 
It provided a sort of comic relief that contrasted with the dead 
serious competition their champions were engaged in, each 
struggling desperately to save his own manhood.

Slowly now, ever so gradually, almost imperceptibly, Jake felt 
himself inching back his opponent. One inch, two inches, three 
inches; it was now clear that he was gaining the advantage. He 
scrutinized Ross's expression as though he could read his thoughts. 
He saw the determination and methodological tenacity in Ross's dark 
brown eyes. Jake watched Ross muster his resolve and focus his 
effort. With a mighty surge of power Ross regained less than an 
inch of the distance he had lost. Jake caught a glimmer of 
uncertainty in Ross's eyes and retaliated with a powerful surge of 
effort of his own. This forced Ross down several inches and it was 
visible to the crowd. Jake heard them gasp with morbid anticipation.
Ross was desperate now. Jake kept pressing his advantage and 
watched as panic swept across Ross's face. He heard Ross's trainers 
pleading with him now. It was no longer just idle bravado for the 
crowd, but genuine distress that was motivating them.
"Please Ross!" screamed Liz. "I don't want that little freckled-
faced dyke eating my box tonight. I want you!"
"Oh yes, Ross!" screamed Karla. "I love you, Ross. I really do. 
Please don't let this happen to you!"
Karla's last sentence sounded more like a prayer than something 
addressed to Ross. Jake had a clear advantage now. He could plainly 
see the terror and panic in Ross's eyes. Ross's panic would give 
him a rush of adrenaline, but his opposing muscle groups were now 
working against each other. His ability to focus had been 
destroyed. Jake pressed forward, doggedly, feeling the intermittent 
spurts of unfocused energy exploding from his opponent. Deborah and 
Wendy were shouting encouragement, telling him to hang in there, 
while Ross's trainers were pleading desperately, knowing that 
nothing short of a miracle would save their man.
Jake actually felt sorry for Ross. He didn't know what kind of 
political incorrectness had landed him in prison, but Jake realized 
they should be friends, struggling against a common enemy. How 
diabolically ingenious was this plan the Emperor had devised. He 
took men who should have been comrades-in-arms and pitted them 
against one another in these perverted contests.
Suddenly, Jake felt a burning sensation in his abdomen on the left 
side. The sensation grew stronger until it felt like someone was 
sticking him with a glowing hot poker. Jake realized what it was. 
He was rupturing! His intestines were trying to squeeze out between 
his abdominal muscles. He could see a little knot about the size of 
a bird's egg forming just below the waistband of his tights, and it 
was growing. Jake knew that men had ruptured on the crunchers 
before, and it had always meant defeat. But he had Ross at such a 
disadvantage now. If he could just hang on! The pain was becoming 
unbearable.
Suddenly he heard Liz and Karla, out of sight above his head, 
squealing with frantic intensity. These sounded like squeals of 
delight rather than the pitiful pleading they had been engaged in. 
They had seen Jake's little egg growing in his tights.
"Ross! Ross! Push, baby! Push! He's rupturing! You're going to win; 
just push! His guts are running out. You're going to win, baby. 
Just push!
At almost the same time Wendy and Deborah noticed his rupture and 
their composed smiles and confident encouragement turned to shrieks 
of anguish. The two girls just put their arms around each other and 
huddled as they looked on in horror. The crowd was roaring with 
excitement!
Jake realized that Wendy and Deborah thought his loss was now a 
forgone conclusion. This was hardly the kind of encouragement Jake 
needed, but as he looked at the horrified expressions on their 
faces he also realized how much they really cared for him. He 
thought of all the nights he had slept snuggled between them, and 
the thought of never doing this again was unbearable. The thought 
of never seeing Deborah or Wendy again was much worse than the 
prospect of being nullified.
Jake realized he had a distinct advantage over Ross, as far as the 
machine's position was concerned and he struggled to maintain it. 
No matter how much pain he felt, he mustn't give up, mustn't back 
off one inch. His greatest fear now was that he might pass out from 
the pain involuntarily. He kept telling himself over and over, "I 
mustn't pass out; I mustn't pass out!"
He could see the hope and brightness return to Ross's eyes, and 
Ross made a mighty effort to push Jake back. Jake grimaced and 
winced from the pain, but held his ground. They were once more at 
an impasse, only this time it seemed that time was on Ross's side. 
Ross only needed to hold out until the pain and trauma of Jake's 
rupture rendered him unable to continue, then push him down and 
guillotine his gonads. Both men were straining for all they were 
worth. The crowd was quiet again, in hushed anticipation.
Suddenly Jake heard a noise that sounded like something between a 
sputter and a rumble coming through the PA system. It had the 
resonant quality of an echo. At first an excited whisper shot 
through the crowd like a gust of wind rustling through trees. 
Pockets of laughter could be heard in the stands, scattered at 
first, but becoming more general as the crowd became aware of what 
was happening. Soon the tempo and volume of the laughter picked up 
and the crowd was virtually in stitches! Jake suddenly realized 
what was happening. All this straining had caused Ross to expel gas 
from his intestines and the microphones (which were everywhere) had 
picked it up. Ross was letting a big fart! Jake realized that for 
just one second or so, Ross would be a little weaker as the gas 
expelled from his gut. Maybe… just maybe!
Jake put out everything he had. It felt like a volcano was erupting 
from his gut, but he continued to hear the sputtering rumble coming 
from Ross. Jake knew Ross couldn't regain his full strength until 
that gas was expelled, and once started, it had become an 
involuntary action. Even if it were for less than two seconds, Ross 
was helpless! The pain had caused Jake to grimace and squint his 
eyes shut now, but he felt himself gaining inches. He couldn't see 
Ross's face but he could hear him making utterances in his 
desperation.
"Ah… ahhh… no… nahh!!!"
Then Jake felt the cam break over and heard the ratchet lock click 
into place. He heard the tinny, metallic snip of the guillotine as 
its spring-loaded blade was released by the solenoid. Then he heard 
the most pitiful, baleful scream he had ever heard in his life. 
Ross, his opponent, was unmanned!
Jake opened his eyes in a daze. The pain in his ruptured gut was 
almost unbearable, but it was offset by the sudden wonderful sense 
of relief that came over him. It was as though everything was 
happening in slow motion. He could see the joyous expression of 
relief on the faces of Wendy and Deborah. He saw a blur of legs and 
shimmering tights as Liz and Karla leapt past him, jumping down 
from their little pulpit without even using the ladder, to get to 
Ross's side. Even as the medical attendants were beginning to 
attend to Ross's wound and administer morphine, Jocco had his big 
black microphone in Ross's face, asking him how it felt. Ross said 
nothing; he just screamed and bawled. His trainers weren't much 
more composed. Jake heard Liz scream at Jocco, telling him to take 
his goddamned microphone and go to hell! Jocco maintained his cool, 
cynical demeanor, smiled with sadistic, diabolical amusement, and 
looked over his shoulder at the crowd.
"I think the young lady has become a little too attached to her 
man… er… eunuch I should say."
The crowd was still roaring with laughter from watching the 
bizarre, yet comical spectacle of Ross losing the contest with an 
unexpected burst of flatulence. The medical attendants were loading 
and strapping Ross onto a gurney to be wheeled into the ringside 
operating room where the follow-up surgery and total nullification 
took place.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Jocco, "I believe you have witnessed a 
first here at the arena. We've seen men rupture on the crunchers 
before, and they always lost. But this is the first time we've seen 
a man literally fart away his manhood and his freedom! I'll bet he 
thinks about this every time he breaks wind for the rest of his 
life. Whata you think?"
The crowd roared again with laughter.
"Those are some hot little babes," Jocco said, staring and grinning 
lecherously at Liz and Karla before turning back to the crowd. 
"I'll bet this really messed up their plans for the weekend; whata 
you think? You know it's gotta suck to be Ross tonight!"
As the medics wheeled Ross away the attendants were able to 
restrain Liz, but Karla hung onto the gurney as it rolled across 
the arena floor. Resisting the attempts of one of the medics to 
dislodge her, she was being dragged along with the gurney, refusing 
to leave 
Ross's side. The reaction from the crowd seemed to be mixed. There 
were some "awww's", and some laughter.
Suddenly four stout eunuchs emerged from the dugout area, grabbed 
Karla, and carried her back to her place by the crunchers. The 
crowd responded with more "awww's", more laughter, and considerable 
applause. The medics wheeled Ross through a pair of double doors 
and they disappeared.
Meanwhile, Deborah and Wendy had come to Jake's side and smothered 
him with kisses, so thankful that he was still a man, and even more 
importantly, he was still with them. They looked on with intense 
concern as the medics checked Jake's rupture and administered 
painkillers. Even though their team was victorious, their eyes were 
blurry with tears from the emotionally traumatic event they had 
just survived.
Jocco, wearing his usual sadistic smirk, turned toward Karla as the 
eunuchs carried her back onto the platform.
"You're going to have to lighten up, girl. It's not the end of the 
world - not for you anyway. Ross doesn't have anything you want 
anymore. He's just going to have a little pink wee-wee hole about 
three centimeters from his ass hole, and that's it! He won't even 
fill up the crotch of his tights as well as you do!"
A rumble of naughty chuckles washed through the crowd, indicating 
their prurient amusement at Jocco's description of Ross's post-
operative appearance.
"Hell, a feisty little babe like yourself will find a new man - a 
real man - in no time. It's too bad you can't buy him back though. 
It must feel a little like losing your favorite puppy."
Jocco was grinning so broadly that the corners of his mouth almost 
seemed to touch his ears. His expression was utterly demonic. 
Karla, who was wrenching and jerking in the grip of the four big 
eunuchs, seemed oblivious to Jocco's remarks or anything that was 
going on around her. Perhaps she had just absorbed all the anguish 
she could hold, or at least was incapable of expressing it further. 
She was utterly silent now except for her jerking and sniveling.
Jake watched as the big eunuchs let Karla down enough to stand on 
her own feet. Apparently they trusted her not to bolt from the 
arena to be with Ross. Jake looked at the red imprints left on 
Karla's thighs where the eunuchs had held her, and wondered what 
would be running through their minds as they held the beautiful, 
squirming girl. They couldn't be turned on anymore. Sex, and 
perhaps even the thought of sex was outside the realm of 
possibility for them. They were simply doing a job, restraining 
Karla and protecting her from the embarrassment of her own 
emotional extravagance, as they saw it. Petite, beautiful little 
Karla could go into the darkest most secluded places with these big 
eunuchs and never fear the slightest harm. They could live together 
in the most intimate circumstances and she would never need worry 
about being molested or even propositioned sexually. They were 
perfect servants, pets, and protectors. And if the stories were 
true, eunuchs also made great lovers - if and when a woman wanted 
one. Always gentle and considerate; never egotistical or selfish; 
they could become experts with their tongues, fingers and sex toys. 
To Jake, something about this seemed strangely erotic - more erotic 
than sex itself. However, in all the contests Jake had seen, he had 
never seen a girl take losing her champion quite as badly as poor 
little Karla.
Wendy walked over, and squeezing between the eunuchs, put her arm 
gently around Karla's neck and softly whispered something to her. 
Karla acknowledged her by resting her head on Wendy's breast and 
relaxing a little. The eunuchs released their grip and stepped 
back. The eunuchs restraining Liz released her also, and the girls 
huddled together with Karla in the middle. There were lots of 
"awww's" sounding through the crowd, but much of it had the tone of 
mockery.
Jocco was on the PA system addressing the crowd again.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for the emotional outburst and 
lack of restraint demonstrated by our losing team today, but now 
it's time to congratulate our winner!"
Cheers and applause came from the crowd as Jocco turned to address 
Jake. His sadistic grin made him look like a piranha about to feed.
"Congratulations, buddy, you've just won the ninth level contest! 
You'll be in the World Championship three weeks from now, so how 
does it feel?"
Jocco stuck his big microphone in Jake's face. Jake was still in 
quite a bit of pain, very exhausted, and beginning to feel a little 
woozy from the painkillers.
"Well, I'm… I'm very thankful to have survived this contest. But 
the real congratulations should go my trainers, Deborah and Wendy. 
Without them I couldn't have done it. I also want to express my 
condolences to Ross and his trainers. I know it's a terrible thing 
to lose…"
"Say, Jake, it's no time to go soft when you're basking in the 
winner's circle! Sportsmanship is one thing, but you won this 
contest fair and square. You don't have to apologize to anybody. 
Every man that enters these contests knows the rules - only one 
winner - one man and one eunuch. You've still got your equipment, 
and Ross doesn't. That's the bottom line, my friend, and that 
should make you feel pretty good."
"Well, yes it feels good to know that I'll still be with Wendy and 
Deborah tonight. That feels good for sure. I just hate it that Ross 
had to…"
"Say! What's this I hear about a little medical problem you 
developed during the contest - a little hernia, I believe. It 
almost cost you the contest. Let's see it guys."
Jocco motioned for the medics to move the towel that covered Jake's 
abdomen, but they hesitated.
"Come on, guys, this is reportable news. Can't cover anything up.
"Oh my god! Look  at the size of that thing - oh, I mean hernia - I 
mean hernia!"
The crowd was roaring with laughter at Jocco's remark.
"You people have dirty minds, that's all," Jocco said, grinning and 
looking over his shoulder at the crowd. "You knew what I meant."
"Come on. Get the cameras in here. We need to record this for the 
archives of sports history. This thing's as big as a softball!"
Jocco suddenly stood up facing the crowd and put his finger on the 
earphone in his left ear.
"We have some breaking news, folks. Just in. But don't worry, it's 
good news. The clinic reports that Ross's surgery was successful. 
There were no complications and he's all stitched up and doing 
fine. He's officially a nullo now."
The crowd cheered and applauded.
Karla screamed, then collapsed in a sobbing heap at the feet of the 
other girls. This elicited a mixture of "awww's", laughter, and 
some angry booing from the crowd. There were individual shouts of 
"Get over it, girl!" "Forget him, he's history!" "Forget the loser!"
Jocco ignored Karla this time and returned his attention to Jake, 
sticking his big black microphone back into Jake's face.
"How do you expect this to affect your performance in the 
championship? If you ask me it looks pretty bad for the home team!"
It was one of the medics who answered Jacco's question.
"This thing isn't really as bad as it looks. He'll be fixed up and 
back in training in a few days."
"That's what you say," said Jocco, "but I've seen contestants 
compete wearing trusses before. In fact, we even have a name for 
them. We call them EUNUCHS!"
The crowd roared with laughter.
Deborah, who had never left Jake's side, her eyes blurred with 
tears, looked up at Jocco and replied.
"He'll win," she said. "We won't let him lose!"
Jocco only grinned more broadly than ever.

Epilogue:

By the turn of the 22nd century conventional marriage had all but 
disappeared. Wealthy aristocrats and imperial officers simply kept 
concubines, male or female, depending on their preference (eunuchs 
were very popular in all households). Offspring from casual mating 
among the populace were reared in a hodgepodge of orphanages and 
other imperial facilities. Most alarming, however, was that fully 
80% of the males on the planet had been made eunuchs. There was 
concern within the imperial and aristocratic circles that this 
could have a detrimental effect on the gene pool and even threaten 
the human species with extinction (the percentage of eunuchs was 
growing daily). 
Then a benevolent sisterhood, called the Daughters of Ishtar, 
volunteered their services to make sure the sperm of the young 
males was used optimally for procreation before the young men were 
castrated. The Empire, glad to be rid of what they considered a 
nuisance housekeeping chore, soon passed control of the orphanages 
to the sisterhood. The sisterhood worked diligently to assure that 
the patriarchal aristocrats were supplied with beautiful young 
girls and eunuchs to satisfy their voracious appetite for sex.
The shortage of adult males had caused the great contests of the 
21st century to degenerate into mere sadistic spectacles put on for 
the decadent patriarchs as young men neared adulthood. It was no 
longer necessary for a man to commit an offence against the Empire 
to be castrated in a public arena. It was becoming more and more a 
rite of passage, with very few males passing their nineteenth 
birthday uncut. In keeping with the tradition established in the 
preceding century, the males were totally nullified.
Although the sisterhood appeared to be part and parcel to the 
sadistic castration spectacles, they had a hidden agenda of their 
own and were simply biding their time. It came to pass in the late 
22nd century that an aged emperor died without naming a successor. 
By this time there were hardly any virile males between the ages of 
eighteen and eighty; a situation well planned and long awaited by 
the sisterhood. Practically all the security forces in the Empire 
were comprised of eunuchs or women and these forces were all loyal 
to the sisterhood. It was then that the sisterhood made its move 
and seized control of the Empire. The tiny minority of aristocratic 
patriarchs was no match for these overwhelming forces. They were 
quickly defeated and subsequently relieved of their male anatomy.
A new matriarchal epoch in world history had dawned. It became an 
undisputed cultural paradigm that adult males were dangerous and 
could not be tolerated in civilized society. Young men enjoyed a 
few brief years of unbelievable sexual delights during the sperm 
harvest then relinquished their manhood shortly after their 
eighteenth birthday.
Gone, however, were the brutal contests to appease the decadent and 
prurient lusts of the patriarchal aristocracy. This had been man's 
way. Castrations now became beautiful ceremonies, filled with myrth 
and pageantry. They were supposed to be joyous occasions, even for 
the males. This was woman's way.
Although many young men wept bitterly at forever giving up the 
joyous delights of their sexuality, it was socially unthinkable to 
rebel against it. Castration, including complete nullification, was 
indeed now a rite of passage. After the ceremony, horny, sex-crazed 
boys became responsible mature eunuchs and took their rightful 
place in society as servants and human pets. The matriarchal epoch 
would prevail for untold millennia.