This was a fun fantasy to write. I've been reading so many great stories I decided to try one.
A - H I - P Q - Z Newest Files
It was a closed and secretive meeting held in the interior
of an ancient wooden temple. The walls were scanned for recording
devises, and then checked again. One of the men was American, the
rest were Asian. Collectively they were as wealthy as a small
country. Singularly they were jaded with all the pleasures of the
Earth.
They called themselves the Tribe. One of their many
enterprises which they held collectively, that couldn’t be traced
back individually was a semi-traditional geisha house. It was
this that they were discussing now. They wanted a rare dragonfly
for their garden of flowers, and butterflies. They all agreed on
the specifications of this rare creature. A phone call was placed
to an international slave agent. He broke the code, and realized
what these men were offering a million dollars for. At that price
their request would be honored.
Several potential candidates were shadowed. Within a few
days they knew they found their prey. The boy had been spotted in
the Louve. He looked like a living sculpture of an arch angel. He
was with a number of American students, apparently on a teen camp
travel program. A few Frenchmen were glancing at the boy. It was
hard not to. He really did resemble a little angel. His eyes were
so deep blue, they looked violet, and his hair was chestnut with
streaks of gold from the sun. He was the youngest in the group he
was with, 13 or 14. The rest looked more like 16.
From a distance he sounded intelligent, at least he was
asking the guards questions in French. He seemed completely
unaware of himself, and the interest he was engaging.
The group was easy to follow. They were staying at a small
hotel not far from St. Basilica.
That night a band of terrorists broke into the hotel. The
motivation appeared to be robbery. All of the residents were
gathered quickly, and made to lie on the floor of the dining
hall, their hands over their heads. When the attack was over, and
the invaders with their submachine guns gone, so too was the boy.
It was easy to get him out of France. They drugged him so he
was docile, and cooperative. They dressed him in a chadur and
veil. By using a false Iranian passport they passed him as one of
the many wives of Abu Ser. No one examined him closely that night
as the malevolent party departed by sea. Only the boys haunted
glazed eyes could be seen as he went through customs. Just
another young Arab woman going home with the men of her family.
Once on the mid-sized yacht transgressing the Mediterranean,
they had a chance to asses their merchandise. They no longer had
to drug him, as now he was tied up least he try to run and jump
overboard. His name was Michael, but that didn’t interest them as
he would be re-named soon enough. What they did want to know
about was the parts of him they had yet to see.
He was brought to a small inside room, little more than a
closet that would serve as a place to examine him. The men who
handled him were all experienced slavers in the flesh trade
world. They had seen many incredible specimens but this one was
impressive, he was beautiful. They removed the chadur from him
and placed him on the examining table. Michael tried to bite his
captures hand, so they tied a gag around his lush mouth. They
jerked him down on the hard metal table that they had set up for
him. They were anxious to see his hidden parts. Would it be as
beautiful as his face. Not that it would matter for long. It was
hard to read the boy’s expression. He wouldn’t look them in the
eyes or show fear. Maybe that would change when they finished
with him.
His legs and arms were covered with pale blond hair, the
rest of him was smooth, almost silky from his nervous sweat. His
genitals were lovely, a medium sized cock, large for his
proportions, still hairless. His scrotum too was nicely formed,
he had a beautiful package. They flipped him over to look at his
rear. It was smooth and tight a flat dimpled plane. He flexed it
inward as if to retreat from the cold metal table.
The boss placed his hands on the boys bottom, and spread the
cheeks apart. His anus was a small healthy pink. The boss had
each man take one of the boys legs and spread them apart so he
could free his own hands. He took out a jar of Vaseline and
coated his fingers with it, then he leaned over the boy, taking
his index finger and piercing through the boy’s tight hole, his
nail stabbing the delicate skin. The boy seemed to choke on his
breathe. This finger was quickly followed by the middle finger
working inside the boys passage to allow a small vibrator room to
shove past the boys sphincter muscle. The boy shrieked into his
gag as the boss tugged, twisted and forced the shaking object
into the boys ass.
Once the vibrator was firmly in place inside the boy’s canal
he was turned back over. Tears were streaming out of his eyes,
but that didn’t distract his penis from expanding nicely. It was
time to manipulate it. One man took it into his mouth and
masterly sucked on it. The boss cupped the boys scrotum in his
large hand. He gingerly squeezed, and massaged it. Feeling the
hard balls buried within, he played with them almost
thoughtfully. He wondered what this boy would do if he knew how
little time he had left to have them. It had not been decided
where and when the boy would be gelded. It would probably wait
until he arrived in Japan. As he caressed the balls he wished
that he had been ordered to do the castration. At this point he
was only permitted to little more than finger the boy and start
to break his spirit. He would not be paid full price if the
merchandise was damaged.
The crew finally arrived in The Sudan where they were met by
a private plane. Inside a hanger the exchange of boy for money
took place. He was drugged once again and the jet took off.
Before the plane landed he was placed in a cargo bag which was
carried to a waiting limousine. The respected businessman who in
his time had paid off a number of politicians never had to waste
his valuable time declaring his imports.
Two hours later the boy was laid on a futon in a cell under
a notorious brothel in downtown Tokyo. He was still unconscious.
There were several men in the room observing him. They noted his
exquisite face, almost feminine with just a splash of ginger and
spice coming from his maleness. He would be their white geisha.
Their secret would be that the white geisha would be a eunuch,
not a girl.
That would be the next step. he had to be castrated. They
decided just to remove his manhood, his penis would stay the
evidence of his former boyhood, a tempting toy under his robes,
hidden and naughty. They couldn’t take any chances with his
gelding. He was too expensive. They had called in the best there
was. This Doctor, a eunuch himself was though, and a
perfectionist. The Doctor looked at him, “Each boy is different.
It is like feng shui. I will be able to sense how to keep a
positive flow and make the perfect eunuch for you after I have
had a chance to examine him privately without interruption so I
can choose the correct time and procedure to use on this child.”
They agreed to wait for the boy to wake up.
End of Part One
The first person that Michael saw when he woke up through
his haze was the Doctor. He had been hoping that this had been an
enormous nightmare, but there was no end to it. He tried to get
up, his head was spinning, and his muscles didn’t want to
cooperate making him fall backwards, a deaden weight. Having been
drugged for the best part of a week was taking it’s toll. The
Doctor handed him a cup of weak tea, and told him to drink it, it
would make him feel better. His thirst made him sip wearily, he
knew that the only thing that would make him better was if he
could somehow escape. He didn’t understand what was going on. He
started to wonder if this was some kind of arcane punishment for
telling his parents that he was gay. They sent him off to Europe
to get him out of the house. He knew that while there they were
making further arrangements for military school. Perhaps this is
what they choose for him instead. He shouldn’t have told them.
The Doctor looked at the boy as a product. One that he could
work his creative skill upon. The boy was lovely. Pretty boys
made beautiful eunuchs. This one was already beautiful. He would
be a legend, if they kept him lean and active once he was
neutered. He had no doubt that his diet would be as regulated as
everything else. Because he wasn’t using an assistant the Doctor
decided to tie the boy up. He waited until he finished the tea,
and then he helped him stumble into a water closet where he
pointed to the toilet. The boy, his face reddened learned about
his lack of privacy. When he was finished the Doctor led him back
to his room and made him lay down again. The boy was still too
dizzy to struggle. Then the Doctor tied his hands behind his
back, and his ankles to bars in the floor. He didn’t want the boy
to yell out, so he placed a ball gag in his mouth.
The boy had silky skin, and very little hair to shave off.
He studied the boys impressive tool. It was nicely formed, but
perhaps unhappily for the boy the vascular structure proved he
was already ejaculating. Like many Western boys, the foreskin had
been cut off when the boy was a baby leaving an unsacred pinkish
mushroom head. He was most concerned with the feel of the boys
testes, as that was what he was hired to remove. Gently he
enfolded the scrotum in his hands, and started to caress it
softly. He felt resistance, as the boys penis moved upward. He
kept his stroking tenderly, like teaching a small field mouse to
trust his petting hands.
As soon as the boy untensed, submitting to his ministrations
he seriously pinched his testes making him squeal, muffled by the
gag. It was time to demonstrate to the boy how he could hurt him.
He wanted the boy to fear his power. He pulled roughly on the
gonads pulling them apart as far as they could towards the sac
walls. It was time to massage, and move the little balls around,
show who was the boss, and master. He would soon be claiming them
for his own.
The Doctor played with them, teasing them holding them tight
between his fingers, and releasing them through the thin skin of
the boys sac. He rolled them around feeling their roundness, and
manipulating them to move where they were barely designed to go.
He felt as if they were already his, his staked claim. In a short
time he would mine them. His lingering hold on them was
subconsciously telling the boy that a new owner had purchased the
gems. He was now only storing them until the new master decided
to move them out.
The boy was now silent however his eyes showed shock and
embarrassment. His testicles were sore and bruised and still the
man wouldn’t let go. Finally still squeezing the sac the Doctor
reached his other hand under the boy’s bottom, and pushed his
finger up his rear hole causing the boy to spasm. Then, finally
He started to expertly stroke the boys penis. When he was
finished the boy looked raw and used.
He untied the boy and pointed to a sheer silk night dress
the boy was to wear. As distrait as the boy was from his
treatment he was at his edge when he saw the humiliating outfit.
He defiantly refused to move. The Doctor finally spoke in English
and commanded the boy to put on the dress or it would be the
worse for him. Slowly and tearfully the boy put it on. He moved
slowly from his soreness and reluctance. He was no longer dizzy
but it didn’t seem to matter.
The Doctor watched him carefully. The boy already had a
certain grace and drama about him. He decided that the
traditional gelding practices would suit this boy the best, no
heavy handed farm tool or chemicals for him. He would come under
the knife, a silken string to dangle around his testicles,
arousing when the rose colored cords were left behind to mark the
empty space between the boys legs. once the gelding was over.
During the week the boy was bathed and tended like a rare
hot house flower. They forced him to eat and exercise. They also
removed all of his lower body hair, leaving him as smooth as a
baby. The Doctor came each afternoon to massage his balls.
softening them. He used a technique that caused the testes to
grow somewhat larger and more tender. They were letting the boys
chestnut mane grow out, it was already touching his shoulders.
His eyebrows were re-shaped like the tiny arches on a porcelain
doll. They discovered a bonus as well. The boy had a beautiful
tenor voice that had not yet broken. This would indeed increase
his value to them.
The day arrived for his surgery. It was planned for the
morning in a large meeting room. The room was prepared with the
tools that the Doctor required. The internal temperature of the
room was raised to help keep the boy soft and pliable. A drink
bar was set up with all types of cooling drinks for the invited
guests, as the businessmen had all arraigned to be there.
That morning the boy was surprised to be given back his own
clothes, the jeans, briefs, and polo-shirt he had worn when he
was abducted. He quickly dressed before they could take it away
from him. He was then led into the plush meeting room. He was
taken aback by seeing all the strange faces watching him. He
stood barefoot before a tribunal of well dressed men.
He was told that they were having a meeting about him. He
wanted to hope with the optimism of the young that there was
compassion in this place. He did not yet realize that he was
being observed through the cold eyes of commerce. He was a
product, and as such his fate had been decided even before the
day he was spotted in the museum. He was an order that had been
filled.
As he stood looking at the richness of the decor, and the
valuable landscape paintings on the wall a special table was
brought in. It was generations old, veneered by the stains of
blood. The Doctor then made his entrance. The boy paled when he
saw him.
The Doctor said in English, “Honorable Gentlemen, may I
begin.”
A collective nod of heads, and the Doctor motioned to his
assistants. They gripped the boy lifting the polo shirt off of
him. While they held his arms they stripped him of his pants and
underwear and lifted him up onto the table. His arms and legs
were held firmly until he was bound by straps in each corner of
the imposing table.
They held his nose closed until he gasped for air. That was
when a wet rag was placed in his mouth, a gag wrapped around it.
He tried to move but there was no where for him to go. He tried
to scream but it was muffled.
They took a warm towel and rubbed it over his hot body. Then
his scrotum was grabbed at the base. As one man squeezed him
another banded a rose colored cord tightly around making a series
of knots and then allowing the long strings to stream down his
legs.
They started to rub his cock. Unbelievably he started to get
hard. Another man softly massaged his scrotum. The tightness of
the cord put him into sensory overload. It wasn’t helped by the
sensation of a lubricated hand under him fondling his anus. The
rhythm made him first whimper, and then he started to ejaculate.
The Doctor took a drop of his cum and rubbed it against the boys
cheek.
“This is precious juice as it’s distillery will soon be out
of business.” he said. With that he slowly moved his hand down
the boys lean chest dragging his fingers past the boys spent
organ and lightly touching his scrotum sac.
“Today, we get to peek inside.” He started to massage the
sac pressing inward to find the testes where he knew they would
be waiting for him. He worked the balls taking time to savor
them. Several of the businessmen asked to take a turn, and he
showed them how he wanted them maneuvered. The Doctor took his
time, stretching the orbs like Ping-Pong balls on a string.
When the Doctor was satisfied that they were ready to be
harvested at last, he reached for his sharpest curved scapula. It
had been altered to look like a castration knife. One of the
assistants lifted the boys penis back and away from the action
soon to follow. Not knowing the scene had changed the boy still
had his eyes closed trying to ignore what was happening. All
other eyes thought watched intently.
The scapula was placed lightly, on the boys scrotum almost
hovering above it. Then suddenly it was forced into the wall and
pulled downward carving a narrow bloody path like from the needle
like claws of a cat. The Doctor continued the slit until he had
cut across to the other side, slicing the scrotum into two parts.
He then put down the scapula and used a gloved hand to ease out
the two testes. They were still attached by their cords to the
boy. The Doctor admired the glistening gonads hanging down
between the shocked boys legs. Now the Doctor could truly feel
them as they were free from the sac. They were a little enlarged,
gold and purple in the florescent light, very round, very
healthy, as once his own had been so many years before.
The man who was holding the boy’s penis started to rub it as
the Doctor picked up a small knife and cut first the right ball
off it’s string, then the left. The balls were carefully placed
in a bowl of ice.
He pressed a heated probe against the boys gapping wound to
seer the cords and causerie him. Next he neatly trimmed off the
front and back of the empty sac, and removed it.
The boy had been forced to ejaculate two more times. The
final load was light, and almost as clear as water. The new
little eunuch was crying. The rose colored band was damp and
loose. The ribbon had tied a special gift which had been opened
and spent.
They finally untied him. He tried to move but was too weak,
and in too much pain. They rubbed ointment on his wound and gave
him a shot of antibiotics. He would soon get carried back to his
cell.
For a few days he would be allowed to heal, then he would
start his training as an entertainer of pleasure. They were
already fawning over him, and telling him what a brave girl she
was, and they would teach her the art of love, and she would be
happy.
He shook his head, and looked like he wanted to spit at
them, but he was too weak to move his head that far so they
pressed next to him and covered his mouth with kisses.
With each tender kiss they were drawing the boy out of him
leaving behind something else.
The End