Raging Hormones

Chapter 1: Jamie's Little Problem

Jamie's little problem was that he had to masturbate.  It wasn't that he just liked to masturbate; he had to masturbate.  He had tried to stop doing it, but after going without it for almost the whole day once, so much tension had built up in his groin that he'd thought he'd go crazy, if he couldn't masturbate.  He'd had jacked off in the boy's bathroom, standing at a urinal, but another boy had walked in just as he was climaxing. 

He had been caught.  Jamie couldn't quit in the midst of a climax.  If Father Brennan, the head master, had walked in, he would have continued pulling on his cock until he was finished.  When Jamie climaxed, nothing else mattered. 

That was a problem, living in St. Michael's in 1949 as he did.  A Catholic orphanage, it didn't offer much privacy.  He slept in a dorm with twenty other boys.  They might be able to jack off beneath their covers.  Most of them could keep quiet when they came.  Jamie couldn't.  He thrashed around when he climaxed.  It was all he could do to keep from screaming.

He had just confessed to having masturbated twenty-two times during the past week, but it had been another boy, not a priest, in the confessional box.  They had been playing a trick on him. 

Now, he was telling Fred, his only real friend at school, what had happened.  "You jacked off twenty-two times in one week," asked Fred, "and you told them that?  Shit, and I thought I was going to hell.  That's more than three times a day.  Do you always jack off that often?"

"That was a good week for me," said Jamie, "I usually do it four times a day."

"No wonder everyone calls you, 'Jamie Wanker," said Fred.

"How often do you do it?" Jamie asked Fred.

"At the most once a day," said Fred, "usually not that much, more like four or five times a week."

"Where do you do it?" asked Jamie.

"In bed, under the covers."

"I can't do it in bed," said Jamie, "I thrash around too much.  Everyone can tell when I jack off."

"I know," said Fred, "I sleep next to you, you know.  Your bed practically walks across the floor when you beat off.  How many times has Father Brennan had you in his office because you've been caught masturbating?"

"Five times.  He says it's a mortal sin.  Do you think masturbation is a mortal sin?"

"I hope not," said Fred, "because I can't stop doing it either.  I just don't do it as much as you do.  I've never been caught jacking off."

"Father Brennan says that it is.  I don't know how many Hail Marys I've had to say, and extra masses I've had to attend, because I've been caught jacking off.  Father Brennan says, if I can't stop by myself, he'll have to take steps to keep me from doing it.  Do you think they'll give me salt peter or something.  I hear that salt peter keeps your dick from getting hard."

"I doubt that would stop you," said Fred.  "Christ!  You're doing it now, aren't you?"  Jamie had his hand in his pant's pocket.  He was moving it up and down. 

"You are sick," said Fred.  Jumping down from the table, he walked away.  "I don't want to get caught with you.  They might think we're queer or something."

Jaime wasn't queer.  Along with his cock, he was obsessed with girls.  More than anything, he wanted to fuck one, but if Father Brennan considered masturbating a mortal sin, Jamie could only imagine what he thought about premarital sex.

Of course, Fred was right.  Jamie was masturbating.  He'd cut the bottom out of the right hand pocket of all his pants -- and never wore underwear -- so he could reach in his pocket and grab his cock, whenever he thought he could masturbate without anyone knowing. 

All the talk with Fred about jacking off had turned him on.  His dick had throbbed, calling for his hand.  It had been compelled to answer.  His hand had crept into his pants pocket, wrapping itself around his cock.  Once there, his hand had started pulling on his cock.

He hadn't made a conscious decision to jack off.  His cock and his hand had acted on their own.  He was just fortunate that no one was around but Fred.

Fred hadn't walked fifty feet when he heard, "Shit -- shit -- shit -- oh -- oh -- OH."  He knew Jaime had just shot another load into his pants.

Chapter 2:Twenty-two Times in One Week

"You masturbated twenty-two times in one week?" asked Father Brennan.

Jamie lowered his eyes, "Yes, Father."  What else could he say.  What he'd told the pretend priest in the confessional was all over school.  All the boys in school knew.  He was just glad it hadn't been one of those weeks when he'd jacked off thirty times or more.  He could just imagine what Father Brennan would say, if he'd admitted to jacking off thirty times in one week, something he'd done more than once.

"You're a depraved individual, Mr. Taylor," said Father Brennan, "and Old Testament depravity has no place in this school.  My patience with you is at an end.  Any continued sexual depravity on your part will lead to severe consequences.  If you can't stop such deviant behavior, I'll stop it for you.  Do I make myself understood, Mr. Taylor?"

"Yes, Father," said Jamie, although he had no idea how Father Brennan intended to keep him from jacking off, when he couldn't stop himself.  He would have to be more careful in the future.  Jamie knew that he couldn't stop.  He'd already tried, without success.  Even now, sitting in Father Brennan's office, his dick was hard.  As usual, all the talk about masturbation made him want to do it.

Maybe he was depraved.  He almost hoped Father Brennan could find away to ease his need to do it.  He didn't want to quit altogether.  Jamie liked beating off too much.  He couldn't imagine not being able to jack off.  He just wished he didn't have to do it so often.  Why couldn't he be like other boys, jacking off once or twice a day?

Chapter 3: Drastic Measures

"It's time for drastic measures," said Father Brennan.  "The boy is depraved.  Twenty-two times in one week.  He's some kind of sex maniac.  For his own good, for the good of the school, and for the good of society, we should do it."

"All boys masturbate," said Father O'Hair. 

"That doesn't make it right," said Father Brennan.  "It's a mortal sin.  Besides, they might do it once or twice a week, not twenty-two times in one week."

Probably more than one or twice a week, thought Father O'Hair.  He did it that often himself.  At least, he didn't sexually abuse boys as Father Connor did.  He'd seen the look on boys' faces as they'd left his office.  Father O'Hair knew he should say something about it, but to whom?  Father Brennan wouldn't listen.  He could imagine his students being guilty of the vilest sexual depravity, but not any of his priests.

"I'll admit that twenty-two times in one week is a little extreme," said Father O'Hair, but don't you think that castration is going too far?  I didn't think we could any longer castrate boys."

"It's still permitted," said Father Brennan, "It just hasn't been done here for ten years or more; but we haven't had a boy that needed castrating like Taylor does.  We'd be doing it for his own good -- to save his immortal soul; besides we can't set such a sex fiend like him loose on the world.  He would likely become a rapist -- or worse.  If he can't control his need for sex now, how can we expect him to when he's older?  We're obligated to castrate him.  I see no other way."

"At least give him another chance," said Father O'Hair.  "Let me talk to him first."

"The time for talking is over," said Father Brennan.  "I'm not waiting until something more serious happens.  The boy might be homosexual for all we know.  He could practice his perversion on another -- innocent -- boy."

"I don't think he's homosexual," said Father O'Hair.  He'd seen how Jaime looked at girls and women, anything in skirts actually.  No, the boy might be a sex maniac, but only as far as the opposite sex was concerned, not his own.  Father O'Hair had never seen Jaime Taylor do anything that would indicate he was homosexual.

"Then he might rape some girl," said Father Brennan.  "The boys attend church and other social functions in town."

"There's nothing vicious or mean about the boy," said Father O'Hair.  "I can't imagine him doing that."

"My mind's made up," said Father Brennan.  "I've already set up an appointment for him with Nurse Rollins.  She performed castrations at the last home she worked.  They regularly do them there."

"But that's a home for Negro boys," said Father O'Hair.  "You know they're disproportionately castrated, often for no good reason."

"I'd like to see us castrate each of these boys," said Father Brennan.  "We'd probably save more souls through castration than by any other means."

"Surely, you're not serious, Father," said Father O'Hair.

"I am," said Father Brennan, "If it works on young Taylor, I intend to employ its use whenever I think it's needed.  Taylor will be the first, but not the last boy castrated at this home."

"At least let me talk to him first," said Father O'Hair.  "Maybe -- if he realizes what the consequences are, he'll be able to stop."

"I won't have you saying anything to him about his impending castration.  He's not to know anything about it until after it's over and done.  I won't have him running away."

"I'll just tell him that there are serious consequences for his continued masturbation," said Father O'Hair.  "Maybe I can convince him to stop."

"Don't you think I've already told him that there were consequences for his depravity?  said Father Brennan.  "Don't you know it hasn't done any good?  I had previously warned him, only to find out he'd done it twenty-two times last week.  No, Father O'Hair.  The time for talk is over.  Now is the time for action."

"I must insist that you give him another chance," said Father O'Hair.  "If you proceed with this castration, I'll go to the Arch Dioceses."

"I already have permission from the Arch Dioceses," said Father Brennan.  "Do you think I would have authorized his castration without checking with them first?"

"Then I'll go to the local newspapers," said Father O'Hair.  "What do you suppose they might think about our castrating one of our boys?"

"You, Father, have put not only your career at this school in jeopardy, your future in the Brotherhood, but your immortal soul in jeopardy as well.  I'll see you drummed out of the priesthood."

"Please, Father," begged Father O'Hair, "just give him one more chance.  That's all I ask.  Let me talk to him.  I won't tell him anything about his possibly being castrated.  If I can't get him to stop masturbating, I won't oppose his castration.  Just one more chance.  That's all I ask."

"All right, Father," said Brennan.  "He has another chance; but it's on your head if he does something more serious."

"Thank you, Father," said O'Hair, "I'll talk to him right away.  He'll do fine, you'll see.  There won't be any need for you to have him castrated.

Father went straight from Father Brennan's office to Father Lawford's math class where he found Jamie.  Alone with him out in the hall, he said to Jamie, "You have to stop masturbating, Jamie.  There will be serious consequences for any further masturbation on your part."

"What consequences?" asked Jamie.

"I can't tell you," said Father O'Hair, "but I assure you the consequences of your being caught masturbating again will be severe.  If you can't stop doing it, at least don't be caught doing it."

"I try, Father," said Jaime, "Really I do.  It's so hard to stop.  Didn't you ever masturbate when you were my age?"

"We're not discussing me," said Father O'Hair, "We're discussing you.  I want to empathize how serious I am.  I've put myself on the line for you.  Don't let me down.  DO NOT get caught masturbating."

"I won't Father.  I promise."  Jamie meant it.  He really meant it -- at the time.

Chapter 3: Jamie Tried. He Really Tried

Jamie tried not to masturbate.  He really tried, even closing up the bottom of his pocket with safety pins and wearing underwear so he couldn't reach in his pocket and grab hold of his cock.  That afternoon, however, he mowed the yard.  He accidentally brushed up against the handle of the gas mower with his groin.  His cock immediately got hard.

God! It felt good, especially since he hadn't masturbated since talking to Father O'Hair.  There was no way he could have pulled his cock away from the vibrating handle of the mower.  Within less than a minute, he came creaming his jeans with his spunk.  Guiltily, he looked around, but no one was watching.

Well, he hadn't really masturbated, had he?  He hadn't touched his cock with his hand.

He made it through the rest of the day and that night without masturbating; and even though he awoke the next morning with a raging hard on, he didn't touch it, even though he had to skip taking a shower.  His erection wouldn't go down.  He even had to piss with a hard on; and that was difficult to do.

Jamie sat through each of his classes with a hard on.  His only climax of the previous day had been the one the gas mower had given him, and he hadn't masturbated all day.  He couldn't remember going so long without doing it, not since he'd masturbated the first time when he was twelve. 

He did a quick calculation on a piece of note paper.  If he'd averaged twenty-two times jacking off each week -- a not unreasonable number, not for him, anyway -- then he'd jacked off about 2288 times during the last two years.  How he wanted to make it 2289. 

Still, he didn't touch his cock, not even to pee.  He was afraid that one touch would be all it took; and he knew once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop.

After class, Jamie and Fred went into town to swim in the city pool.  Boys from the school had free use of it.  "If the door to the girl's dressing room is open," said Fred, " you can look right into the showers.  If there's a girl in there, you can see her."  Of course, Jamie had to look.

He didn't see anything at first, but then the door opened.  There was a girl in the shower.  Fred was right!

He could see the naked ass of a girl in the showers of the girl's dressing room

Then Jamie felt something else.  Water from a jet brushed across his groin.  His cock was already hard.  He couldn't have moved away from the jet, had his life depended on it.  One only has to wonder, if he would have, had he known what staying in front of that jet would cost him.

God damn! It felt good.  As horny as Jamie was, nothing had ever felt so good.  He was going to come.  God!  He was going to come.

When he did, it was the most intense orgasm he could remember.  He flew back away from the side of his pool, his exposed cock emptying jets of come into the pool.

"Fouling!" some old man said, "He's fouling the pool."

They cleared the pool, later emptying and cleaning it.  Everyone knew Jamie had ejaculated into the pool -- everyone -- those living in town as well as the whole school.

Chapter 5: You Just Couldn't Leave it Alone, Could You?

"You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?" Father O'Hair said to Jamie.

"I didn't masturbate," said Jamie, "at least not technically.  I never touched myself."

"No," said Father O'Hair, "you just ejaculated into the pool, causing it to be drained and cleaned."

"They didn't have to do that," said Jaime.  "The pool has chlorine in it.  A little come wouldn't have hurt anything."

"Well," said Father O'Hair, "it's going to cost you -- more than anything you can imagine; and I can't do anything to help you.  I wish I could, but I can't.  I've already put myself on the line for you; and you let me down.  You let us both down.  Now, get dressed.  Father Brennan wants to see you.  You don't want to go see him dressed like that."

"What's it going to cost me?" asked Jamie, "Is Father Brennan going to throw me out of the home?"

"No," said Father O'Hair, "but you'll wish he had."

"You're to report to Nurse Rollins next Tuesday, Mr. Taylor," Father Brennan said.  She's going to help you with your problem."

"What's she going to do?" asked Jamie, afraid she'd give him a shot or something that would keep him from getting hard.  What if he still got horny, but couldn't get his dick hard enough to jack off, wouldn't that be worse?  He didn't know whether he could stand that.  He hadn't gone twenty-four hours without coming when he'd shot into the pool, and that climax had about blown his mind.  He might never recover from one, if he had to go even longer between them.

"Never you mind," said Father Brennan.  "She'll do what's best for you.  You'll be much happier once it's done.  Just remember, we're doing this to save your immortal soul."

Why, wondered Jamie, was having your immortal soul saved always an unpleasant experience?  He didn't know what was going to happen next Tuesday, but he knew he wouldn't like it.

The next Sunday in church, Deloris Brown, a girl he liked, grabbed his arm as she walked by him.  He followed her into the church kitchen.  "Did you really do it?" she asked, once they were in the kitchen.

"Did I what?" asked Jamie.

"Wank into the pool?" asked Deloris.

Jamie's face turned red.  What does one say to a girl -- especially a girl he likes -- when she asks such a question?  There was no sense denying it.  Everyone in town knew he'd shot into the pool.  "Well, not technically," he said, using the same argument he'd used with Father O'Hair.

"Can I see it?" asked Deloris.

"See what?" asked Jamie.  She couldn't be asking to see his cock.  She had said more than once she was going to become a nun.

She kissed him, fumbling at his pants as she did.  When she grabbed hold of his cock, he came, shooting all over her dress.

She looked down at her hand.  Jamie's spunk dripped from it.  Then she looked at her dress.  "No!" she said.  "Why did you do that?  My mother will see it.  What am I going to tell her?"

Jamie didn't have time to answer.  One of the church women walked into the kitchen.  Although Jamie's cock wasn't hard, his fly was open and it was exposed, come still dripping from it.  "He tried to rape me," Deloris said.

Chapter 6: You're fortunate, Mr. Taylor

"You're fortunate, Mr. Taylor," said Father Brennan, "that the Browns aren't pressing charges.  Otherwise you might be going to prison.  I knew this would happen.  You will remain in your dorm until you report to Nurse Rollins Tuesday morning at eleven.  Other than to go to the restroom and to eat, you're not to leave the dormitory.  Do you understand me, Mr. Taylor."

"Yes, Father," Jamie said.

"Did you really try to rape Deloris Brown?" asked Fred, when Jamie saw him later.

"No," said Jamie, "I wouldn't do that.  If anything, she tried to rape me.  She reached into my pants and grabbed my dick."

"But they said your come was all over her dress."

"See if you don't come when some girl grabs hold of your dick," said Jamie.  "I couldn't help it.  I shot my load as soon as she grabbed hold of my dick.  Old Mrs. Roberts come into the kitchen just then.  If she'd looked, she would have seen my come all over Deloris's hand, but I guess she was too busy looking at my dick."

"If you keep it up," said Fred, "the whole town will have seen your dick.  What are they going to do to you?"

"I don't know," said Jamie.  "I'm restricted to the dorm until Tuesday, then I have to go see Nurse Rollins."

"What's she going to do?" asked Fred. 

"I don't know," said Jamie, "probably give me shots to keep me from getting hard."

"That sucks," said Fred, "Does that mean you won't be able to jack off?"

"I don't know," said Jamie.  "I don't know how I could jack off without a hard dick, though.  I don't know if that's possible."

"If anyone can jack off with a soft dick, you can," said Fred.  "I can't imagine anything keeping you from doing it."

Jamie set a new record jacking off Monday, sixteen times in one day.  Alone all day in the dorm, he had nothing else to do.  Besides, he was horny.  He'd only come once each of the two previous days.  It was just as well that he did.  He'd be visiting Nurse Rollins on Tuesday.

Chapter 7: On Time for His Appointment with Nurse Rollins

Jamie was on time for his appointment with Nurse Rollins.  Father O'Hair escorted him to it.  "I'm sorry, Jamie," Father O'Hair said.  "I didn't want this to happen, but maybe it's for the best, especially after what you did on Sunday."

"I didn't try to rape Deloris Brown," said Jamie, more worried than before about what Nurse Rollins might do to him.  Father O'Hair seemed sad about it.  If whatever was about was about to happen made Father O'Hair sad, it frightened him.

"You ejaculated all over her dress," said Father O'Hair.

"She grabbed my dick," said Jamie.

"It doesn't matter now, anyway," said Father O'Hair, obviously not believing what Jamie told him.  "Father Brennan had already decided on this procedure, even before the swimming pool incident.  I don't think now, that you had any chance to avoid it.  He was determined to have you done, if not now, then later.  Well, let's go," he said, grabbing hold of Jamie's arm.  "We might as well get it over."

"Is it going to hurt?" asked Jaime, holding back.

"I don't think so," said Father O'Hair.  "Nurse Rollins will give you a shot.  You won't feel a thing."

Whew...that was a relief.  A shot, after all.  She was going to give him a shot to keep him from getting hard.  He didn't like the idea, but at least the effect wasn't permanent.  Once she stopped giving him shots, he'd be able to get hard again.  Maybe she'd only give him shots for a month or two.

Nurse Rollins pulled down his pants, exposing his butt, giving him a shot high up on his ass.  Just a shot, Jamie thought, before falling asleep.

Nurse Rollins pulled off the boy's pants, noting that the boy's penis had become hard.  Well, this procedure would soon take care of that.  He wouldn't be the first boy she'd operated on, just the first white boy.  At the home for Negro boys, they routinely castrated most of the boys, letting only those with exceptional promise retain their testicles. 

She was glad that Father Brennan had initiated the procedure at St. Michael's, certain that this boy would only be the first, once Father Brennan discovered how much better castrated boys behaved.  They did much better without all the hormones.

After washing the boy off, she shaved him from his waist to his knees.  He had a nice bush of hair around his penis and a little hair on his legs, but not much elsewhere, other than under his arms.  The hair on his upper lip hadn't yet turned dark.

Nurse Rollins placed a cloth covered strainer over the boy's nose and mouth, dripping a little ether onto it.  She didn't want him to wake up during the procedure.

She marked each side of his scrotum with a pen, high up close to the base of it.  Then making certain she had all the implements she needed, she began, first making a cut in his scrotum on one side, where she'd marked it with the pen.  It bled some, but she wiped away the blood.  Then finding his testicle, she worked it up in his scrotum to the cut she'd made.  A little squeeze popped it out.

The boy's testicle hung by its cords, outside his scrotum for the first time.  She pulled, stretching the cords, then tied them off.  Once she was done, she cut through them with a pair of surgical scissors.  The boy's testicle dropped into her hand.  She placed it into a bowl, then started on the other one.  A half hour later, the boy was a eunuch.  Both his balls rested in the bowl. 

Nurse Rollins placed them in a bottle of alcohol.  She would keep them, the first she'd collected from the boys of St. Michael's.  They wouldn't be the last.  Of that, she was certain.

Chapter 8:  What Had Nurse Rollins Done to Him?

What had Nurse Rollins done to him?  His balls hurt and they were bandaged.  Did those shots make your balls sore?  Even if they did, why should his balls be bandaged?  There was even a little blood on the bandages.  He could see where it had seeped through them.  Jamie felt the bandages.  She hadn't cut off his balls, had she?  Surely, she wouldn't have cut off his balls.

Whew...that was a relief.  They were sore, but his ball sack was still full.  It was too sore for him to feel around for each of his balls, but his sack was still full.  What the hell had she done then?

"What did you do to me?" Jamie asked, when Nurse Rollins came in to check on him. 

"I performed an orchiectomy on you," said Nurse Rollins. "It went very well, too, if I say so myself.  You'll be up and around in no time."

"What's a orchi -- orchi -- whatever you said?"

"I just removed something you don't having any use for," said Nurse Rollins.  "You'll be happier without them.  I did it for your own good."

Jamie was worried now.  He didn't know what she had removed, but whatever it was, he was certain he wanted it back.  Anytime they did something  for your own good, you could bet that it wasn't.  "What did you remove?" he asked.

Nurse Rollins unlocked a metal cabinet, opened it, removing a little bottle filled with some kind of liquid, with something floating in the liquid.  "What are those?" Jamie asked, when she showed the bottle to him.  Two whitish, oblong objects, with what looked like strings attached to them, floated in the liquid.

"They're your balls," said Nurse Rollins, smiling as she said it.

"My --"  Jamie felt his crotch again, mashing hard enough on the bandages again for it to hurt.  His ball sack still felt full.  It couldn't be his balls in the bottle.  "I can still feel them," he said.

"That's just swelling," Nurse Rollins said.  She was enjoying this, Jamie could tell.  "It'll go down in a week or so; then you'll see."

"You really cut off my balls?" asked Jamie.

"Yes," said Nurse Rollins.

"Why," said Jamie.

"For your own good," said Nurse Rollins.  She turned, walking from the room.

Jamie had no doubt that she still smiled

Chapter 9: She Had Cut Off His Balls

She had cut off his balls.  The swelling in his ball sack had gone down enough that he could tell it was empty.  Those had been his balls in the little bottle, the bottle she kept locked in the cabinet.  "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked Father O'Hair when he came by to see him.

"I couldn't," said Father O'Hair.  Father Brennan ordered me not to tell you.  I'm in enough trouble already for sticking up for you.  Besides what good would it have done?  You would have been just that much more upset, knowing it was going to happen, and it wouldn't have changed anything.  You would still have had them cut off."

"I could have run away.  I'd rather have run away than stay here and have my balls cut off."

"Where would you have gone?" said Father O'Hair.  "You're better off here, even without your testicles.  Actually, maybe Father Brennan was right.  Maybe you'll be better off without them."

"I can still jack off," said Jamie.  I've done it almost everyday since I've been here.  He'd been in the clinic for a week and a half. 

"That won't last long," said Father O'Hair.  "Soon, you won't even want to masturbate."

"Not me," said Jamie.  "I'll always want to masturbate."  Jamie had masturbated that first day, as soon as Nurse Rollins had left the room, even though his balls were sore -- well, his ball sack, anyway, since he no longer had balls.  He had done it practically every day since.  He could still do it, maybe not as easily as before, but he could still do it.

After Father O'Hair left, he went out into the hall.  He was hardly sore anymore, and his ball sack was barely swollen.  He could no longer feel the weight of his balls on his legs when he sat down.  He hadn't really thought about their being heavy before, but now he missed feeling the weight of them on his legs.  All he had now was a little flap of skin beneath his dick.

It was Deloris.  He didn't know that she worked as a candy striper at the clinic, but there she was, helping an old lady down the hall.  "Hi, Jamie," she said.

"Hello, Deloris," he said.

They walked into the chapel where they could be alone.  "Did they really cut off your balls?" she asked. 

Jamie nodded.  What use was there denying it.  Everyone one knew by now anyway.  That Deloris had asked him the question was proof of it.

"Did it hurt?" she asked.

"Not really," said Jamie, "Nurse Rollins put me to sleep.  When I woke up, they were gone.  I was sore down there for about a week, but I'm pretty much well now."

"Can I see?" asked Deloris.

"You want to see my empty ball sack?" asked Jamie.  He should be mad at her.  After all, she had said he'd tried to rape her, but she wasn't to blame for his castration.  Father Brennan had already arranged it after the swimming pool incident, before he'd shot all over her dress.

"I guess," he said, pulling down his pants. 

"You don't have any hair down there," Deloris said, when he first pulled down  his pants.

"Nurse Rollins shaved it off.  It'll grow back," Jamie said.  At least, he hoped it would grow back.  It probably would.  He could already see stubble down there; and it itched something fierce. 

"It's not going to spit on me this time, is it?" asked Deloris, reaching for his cock to move it out of the way so she could see his scrotum.  His dick wasn't hard.

"No," said Jamie, "it won't spit on you."

She lifted his dick with one hand, feeling his empty scrotum with the other.  "Were they big?" she asked.

"About this big around," Jamie said, making an oval with his thumb and forefinger.  After seeing them in the little bottle, he knew precisely how big they were.

She rubbed the folds of his empty scrotum between her thumb and fingers.  "That feels so weird," she said.  Then she picked up his limp dick.  "Your penis isn't hard.  Doesn't it get hard anymore?"

"Yes," said Jamie, "I just have to work at it more."

"Do you still wank?" 

What kind of question was this, coming from a girl?  But since he had shot all over her dress, he answered, "Yeah, sometimes."

"Not as much as before?  They said you used to do it all the time."

Come to think of it, he didn't do it so often anymore, even though he was in his room by himself most of the time.  He'd been too sore the first week to do it much; but even this week, now that he was no longer sore, he'd only done it twice a day.  And, here he was -- standing half naked in front of a girl -- without a hard on.

"Would you do it now?" she asked.

"What -- wank?"

"Yes," said Deloris.  "I heard that boys without balls can't.  I'll bet you can't."

"I can, too," said Jamie.  He began pulling on his dick.  It soon became hard.  It took awhile, but he shot, maybe not as much as he had before, but he shot.  "See," he said.

"Can you do it again?"

"I guess I could if I wanted," said Jamie, "but I don't want to."   And -- surprisingly -- he didn't.  Before -- when he still had balls, once would have never been enough.

"Do you want to do me?" she said.  "Do you want to --" she hesitated, rolling her eyes up to look him in the eye -- "do you want to fuck me?"

They were in the chapel, but it was after visiting hours.  It was unlikely that anyone would come in.  Jamie's dick became hard.  He did want to fuck Deloris.  He'd wanted to fuck her for a long time.  He'd never fucked a girl -- had wondered, now that he'd lost his balls, whether he'd ever have the opportunity.  He should have just fucked her.  He shouldn't have bothered to ask, but he did.  "Why do you want me to fuck you?"

"You're safe," she said.  "Without balls, you can't get me pregnant.  It wouldn't really be a sin with you, since you can't make babies."

Deloris pulled him to the floor between benches.  He pushed up her dress and pulled down her panties.  He wasn't certain what to do, but he quickly learned.  Her cunt was tight, but he'd never had a big dick.  It was thin, not quite five inches long. 

With a slight pop, it slid in.  Deloris let out a small yelp of pain.  She had been a virgin.  She bled a little.  Jamie came, squirting his sperm free spunk into her vagina.  They even did it a second time.  This time, she came before he did.

Chapter 10: Do You Hate Them for Cutting Off Your Balls?

Do you hate them for cutting off your balls? Fred asked.  It'd been almost a month since Jamie had been castrated.  He had completely healed, no soreness or swelling left in his groin.  They were rope climbing in the gym.

"Not really," said Jamie.  "I did at first, but not anymore.  I don't really miss my balls that much.  At least I don't have to jack off all the time, like before."

"When's the last time you did?" asked Fred.

"Not for at least a week," said Jamie.

"You haven't jacked off for a week?"

"I haven't had to," said Jamie.  "I'm too busy fucking to jack off.  Word's got around that I'm safe.  I can't get a girl pregnant.  It's not even a sin to fuck you, the girls say, since I can't make babies.  I would have never got so much pussy if I still had balls.  I guess they did me a favor cutting them off.

Maybe they had at that, thought Jamie.  He would probably still be a virgin, if he still had balls.  Now he had more girls to fuck than he could handle.  He had even fucked the mother of one of them.  Perhaps they had saved his immortal soul.  He could jack off with impunity.  He didn't even have to mention it in confession.  It said in the Bible that it was a sin to spill your seed on the ground.  Well, he had no seed to spill, did he?

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