Jefferson

The new state’s economy was initially based on the cultivation and sale of marijuana, which had been the basis of the region’s underground economy for years before it’s legalization. The escalation of prices for the area’s abundant timber and mining resources further boosted the economy until it is now one of the most prosperous states in the Union, and it has the most modern schools, best social services, and most enlightened judicial systems in the nation.

The new state was born of rough and tumble parents and the new legislature quickly passed laws requiring gun ownership and training, the use of which for defense of person or property was clearly established and strict punishment meted out for their misuse. Thieves received long sentences at hard labor, murderers were quickly executed, and sex offenders castrated, which brings us to my job.

I am one of the official castrators for the Sate of Jefferson, and my job is see to the removal of rapists and child molesters balls. The actual castration is the privilege of the victim, or more commonly, the victim’s spouse or parents, but I am responsible for the prep work before and securing the wound afterwards, and I also perform the procedure in cases where the victim is unwilling or unable to do so and there are no other interested parties.

Doctors performed the early castrations, but they rebelled at the barbarism of the act and refused to participate, so veterinarians were utilized. That didn’t work out too well either, as they were expensive and difficult to schedule. I already worked in the corrections system and had an EMT certificate so they sent me and another person to school to learn the trade. I am definitely not a doctor, and I know very little about any medical procedure except the removal of the human testes, but I have never lost a patient due to infection or improper procedure.

We average about one nutting a day, and by law they are always done at three o’clock in the afternoon. The punishment is videotaped and then aired on the six o’clock news. It has become one of the most popular television spots and brings in a lot of revenue from advertising sponsors. Some days we do several, but only one a day is televised so the extra ones are shown on vacation or sick days, and every now and then they will show a rerun.

My day starts early, with a visit to the prison infirmary to check up on my previous week’s patients. Next I read the profile on the next felon that I am to de-ball and check his medical history to determine if he had any allergies to the antibiotics that I use.

At one o’clock the intended eunuch is escorted to the operating room by six stout prison guards and placed on the procedure table. He has already been stripped naked and now his hands are secured to the head of the table and a wide belt is strapped over his abdomen, holding him tightly down. The guards then pull his legs up towards his head so I can insert a butt-plug, without which he would likely soil himself and make a mess. This having done his legs are spread outwards around the side of the table and secured underneath it.

Next I shave him and apply a colorless disinfectant, and slip a special, sterilized condom on him. The law requires that all castrates be milked and their sperm frozen and stored in case they are subsequently proved innocent or are found qualified to father a child. I do this by hand and I usually fondle his balls to speed things along. I clip the end of the condom to collect the speciman and then I tape the condom on with adhesive tape and connect the open end of it to a tube leading to a urine collection bag and then tape his penis to his abdomen to keep it out of the way. Erections and orgasm almost never happen but it is common for the person to urinate or attempt to defecate during his unmanning.

The person doing the cutting can use any implement that he desires, but they have to be submitted in advance so they can be run through the autoclave, sterilizer bath, and ultra-violet light chamber to ensure their sterility. While this is being done I start up a hair dryer and position it on the table, directing the warm air flow at the prisoner’s scrotum, and then I meet with the cutter and inform him of the guidelines that must be followed: The procedure must not extend beyond two minutes in duration, which is the maximum pain limit allowed, and the scrotal sac along with both testes must be removed. Other states that sanction castration allow the bag to be slit and the balls removed, but we have found that a subsequent surgery can then be employed to insert prostheses and we don’t want the eunuch to have that option.

If I do the castration, I set out my surgical pack, apply a last coat of antiseptic, don my latex gloves, and wait. A green light on the console indicates that the governor has refused to commute the sentence so I proceed. I grasp the loose skin of the scrotum below the testicles and pull outward, which forces the testes up close to the abdomen. I then quickly sever the scrotal sac with a single slice of the scalpel, ignoring the screams of its former owner. Anesthetic during the procedure and analgesic afterwards are not permitted; he must feel the bite of the knife. The testes are now fully exposed and accessible, so I clamp hemostats onto the blood vessels and tie them off with silk sutures. I then grasp both testes with one hand and sever the tissues connecting them to the body with two quick slices. They are very slick and a common mistake people make at this point is to squeeze them too hard, causing them to squirt out from the gloved hand like cherry pits and fly across the room. I place the testes in a small pan and then close the incision with sutures and apply a dressing to the wound.

The testes are injected with formalin and then placed in a special jar also filled with the liquid and presented to the victim, who usually proudly displays them somewhere in the home. Some people say that we keep them and eat them, but that is just a ridiculous rumor, same as the one going around that claims I have a large collection of them at home and that some are the size of large lemons and others are like peanuts.

The new eunuch is allowed ten days of rest in the infirmary before the sutures are removed and he is forwarded to a work camp for the one hundred and eighty day completion of his sentence, and also to experience the ultimate punishment for his crime. I have no qualms about my role, but I strongly disagree with the placement of the eunuchs at work camps afterwards, as there they must accept the cocks of any and all prisoners into any bodily orifice that they possess.

I believe in the justice system, and I harbor no feelings of guilt about my role in the system, but every now and then I regret having to take a guy’s balls. That was the case yesterday.

The profile sheet indicated that it was his birthday and he had just turned eighteen, the minimum age for castration. Three years ago he had imposed his newly developed manhood on a younger boy and coerced him to keep silent about it. The dumbshit had kept pictures of his perversion, which the younger boy’s father had found a year ago. Those pictures, along with the testimony of the boy, were all the jury needed to convict. The law is clear on this point, and while consensual sex between boys is discouraged it is legal, but sex between an adolescent and a pre-pubescent boy is defined as rape and is punished as such.

He looked much younger than eighteen. He had no discernable beard, and the hair on his arms and thighs was soft and downy. The guards strapped him down and then lifted and spread his legs for me. His asshole was tight and showed none of the inflammation that would be present if he had been molested. We always look for this, as rape in the prison is not tolerated and will result in castration for the perpetrator. He squirmed when I inserted a small, well-lubed plug into him, and I wondered if he knew the total extent of his punishment. The razor made quick work of his soft bush, and the washing of his balls elicited an impressive erection. I rolled the condom on him and only made a couple of strokes when he ejaculated with such power and volume that the condom burst and spread his seed across his belly.

I cleaned him up, waited a little while, and then milked him again, this time managing to capture his essence.

The boy whom he had molested opted to do the cutting. This was a new experience for me as I had never had to coach a fourteen-year-old castrator. The boy had brought his favorite hunting knife with him, which was a pretty common choice of weapon. I have seen it done with scissors, pruning shears, and even saw blades, but most people want to use a knife. They also want to sever the scrotum and the balls together at once instead of using my method. This makes my job afterwards a little more difficult, but they usually can’t be dissuaded from wanting to grab their assailant by the balls, pull them tight, and knife them off while he bucks and screams for mercy, and after what this kid had been through I could hardly blame him for wanting to do it that way.

I worked the lad through the steps and showed him drawings depicting just where the cut should be made, but I also knew that once he saw the blood and heard the screaming he would likely forget it all. One fear I have is that the cutter will be overcome with hatred or emotion and take a swipe at the guy’s cock or try to kill him. While this would result in his own conviction and ultimate execution for murder it is still a possibility with distraught victims.

This lad seemed cool enough, and a long time had elapsed since his abuse, so I finished prepping the prisoner and waited for the green light. Many of the cutters get cold feet at this point and let me finish up, but this kid just sat there, eying the scrotum of his abuser and nervously shifting his knife from one gloved hand to the other.

This was to be a one-swipe removal of the balls and scrotum, so at T minus two minutes I applied the tourniquet. I directed the lad to grab the youth’s balls, relaxed by the blow dryer, and pull them out while I stretched the latex strap and wrapped it around the base of the scrotum. His hand, encased in the surgical glove, seemed dainty and girlish as he gingerly took hold of the older boy’s prize possessions. I stole a glace at his crotch and noticed a slight tent appearing in his surgical scrubs, a normal reaction in most male castrators. The tube attached to the youth’s condom turned yellow as he voided his bladder and he began pleading with both the lad and me, offering us money, his body, and even his sister’s body if we would spare his manhood. They all do this but it is a waste of their time and dignity, as I am incorruptible.

The light glowed green, the camera started rolling, and I nodded at the boy to proceed. The lad was only fourteen, and small for his age, but he pulled the older boy’s testicles with such force that he would have lifted him from the table had he not been secured. He held the screaming youth that way for over a minute before slowly bringing his knife into play and almost ran out of time as he slowly sawed the manhood from his onetime assailant.

The lad suddenly lurched, stumbled slightly, and then completed the cut. He studied the amputated gonads for a few seconds, placed them in the pan, and then nonchalantly wiped his knife on a towel before flushing with embarrassment as he realized that I was looking at the deflating bulge in his scrubs and the rapidly spreading wet spot.

I sterilized the cut, secured the blood vessels, and sutured the wound while he stood in the corner with his hands modestly concealing the proof that he was a man.

I don’t like castrating young people like this one-time child molester, and I was particularly uneasy about this one, as I had a premonition that the boy who had just done the cutting would someday find himself strapped to my table.