Well I’m twenty-seven now and its time this story was told.

It happened when I was twenty-three. Halloween was approaching and there was going to be this huge ADULT party—where all the costumes had to be of a mature nature—to which my girlfriend, Ginni, and I had been invited. Now being slightly demented and perverse, I got this great idea for mine and Ginni’s costumes.

I discussed it with her and it was decided that I would go as here eunuch slave. For Halloween, all the hair I had, from head to toe, would be removed, and I would go naked, shackled and manacled, with a bit in my mouth, as well as a steel collar pined shut around my neck with a chain lead attached. We would draw up a fake contract that would go with us to the party; and I would also be going without my manhood.

Now, emasculation did not enter my mind. Having spent several years, at this point, working in the prosthetics department for several motion picture companies, I decided to design a prosthetic that would fit over my genitals, essentially removing my manhood. It didn’t take me long to make the prosthetic.

The day of the party arrived, and as we had agreed, I would get ready in the morning to learn my place as a slave. So I showered, and we waxed my body from head to toe. Let me tell you, it may hurt to have your arms, legs, or even your scalp waxed and having the hair ripped out; but it has nothing on having that done to your crotch, let alone your balls!

Now that I was hairless, I set about applying the fake crotch I had made. First I slipped my penis into the downward locking tube—I had left an opening at the base, between my legs, so that I could take a piss—then I applied the prosthetic glue used in film studios. Next, with Ginni’s help, I positioned the prosthetic over my crotch and pressed it into place. It only took a few seconds for the glue to set, and I knew it would stay on all day, and all night if I wanted.

Looking in the full-length mirror in our bedroom, I was amazed, and I must admit a little aroused at the transformation. There I was hairless from the scalp down, and I was smooth. Not just smooth as in no hair, but smooth as in no unsightly bumps. My crotch was nothing but a smooth dome, if I couldn’t have felt my cock and balls under the prosthetic I could have sworn that I had been nullified. I was surprised to find that this look aroused me. I could fill my penis trying to rise to attention and I could feel the prosthetic prison holding it back. I had designed the prosthetic well; there was no visible sign of the struggle to keep my dick in check. For all intents and purposes, this day I was a eunuch, and I confessed to Ginni that I was totally aroused and excited by the look.

I spent the rest of the day serving Ginni as her slave, as I would that night at the party. Little did I know, Ginni had plans of her own.

We arrived at the party, and Ginni, holding my chain leash, led me inside. We received quite a few comments on our costumes. Mine the most, as it seems that everyone thought that the effort to create a prosthetic so realistic was of great note. Normally a wild one, everyone there was amazed at how docile and servile I acted. Fetching Ginni’s Champaign, standing, perfectly still, by her side as she berated me and discussed me as a piece of property—as if I wasn’t there at all. I even had a urologist come up to me and tell me that if several people hadn’t told her I wore a prosthetic, she would have sworn I had been nullified and was a real eunuch.

About three hours into the party however, it became clear that something was wrong. People, who had been talkative, even people who were close friends, stopped talking to me at all. Everyone there was suddenly treating me as a real slave.

Just about then, Ginni grabbed the chain leash and pulled me to the front of the room, where there was a slim, yet sturdy, wooden table in a large open space. But what was strange was the fact that there were hospital restraints on it in position to hold a person at the head, chest, and waist. Suddenly three strong pairs of hands grabbed me and placed me on the table. The straps were quickly and methodically secured—quite tightly I must say. The shackles that held my legs were removed, and my legs were placed over the sides of the table, so that they were spread wide apart and my prosthetic covered crotch was quite accessible. The shackles were then refastened beneath the table. I tried to struggle but all the straps held me tightly to the tabletop. I was quite immobile.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. You attention please,” that was Ginni’s voice. “My boyfriend, has graciously decided to spend the rest of his life as my eunuch slave!”

WHAT! I began to try struggle again, and I was screaming into the bit that was still in my mouth.

“This morning he signed this contract stating just that.” From my vantage point I could barely see Ginni hold up the contract. That contract was supposed to have been fake, simply a prop, it hadn’t even been witnessed. “I ask Mr. Fredricks to come up here and review this contract to prove that it is indeed real and all perfectly legal.”

Fredricks, was one of my friends. He would see that it hadn’t been witnessed and would set things straight. Taking the contract he examined it. “All perfectly legal, and well written, I witnessed the signing of it this morning in my office. See there is my signature!”

My world was spinning. First Ginni and now one of my friends were lying about the matter.

“Now, he wore the prosthetic to the party because we all agreed that it would be better to reinforce his new role, and it would be more humiliating, if we had him nullified here!”

No one was paying any attention to my screams.

“To that end, we invited Ms. Havens, a respected urologist here to nullify my boyfriend. Ms. Havens, you may proceed.”

The urologist I had talked briefly to earlier came forward. The crowd parted and formed a circle around the table to watch.

First she filled a syringe with a golden liquid and injected it into my neck. I thought it had been some sort of painkiller. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “What I just gave him,” she said in musical tones, “was a special drug that will prevent him from struggling.” Indeed I was now unable to move anything more than what was needed to breathe. “It will also increase the pain that he will feel, five hundred percent, and it will keep him from passing out.” I tried to scream but apparently that was no longer possible any more than moving a finger.

“Lets begin by removing this prosthetic,” she said as she found the hidden flap I had intended to use later to remove it, and pulled. With that drug in my system, the otherwise nominal pain of the glue parting from my skin was as if a thousand knives just raked across my crotch. “Don’t worry, soon will have you just as smooth,” she said as my genitals flopped out of the prosthetic, and my dick began to rise—it’s final salute.

Next she picked up a scalpel, saying, “I will begin by removing his testicles.” Then she began to cut, pain like I had never felt before, and hoped to never feel again, it all seemed to go on for an eternity.

That was four years ago. I have never been able to prove that what had been meant as a prop for Halloween costumes had turned into a travesty. Therefore I write this in strictest secret and post it in hopes that someone will come to my aid. I have spent the last four years as Ginni’s eunuch slave and will in all likelihood spend the rest of my life like this. About a year after the neutered me, she married friend Fredricks. They beat me and berate me. I am their slave after all and a slave is not human.