Terri Lynn's Story (Part 2)

By: Farrell Squire (guyson@aristotle.net)
[STRAIGHT] [TESTICLES] [MINOR] Other:

Conclusion of Part 1

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Terri Lynn: Part 2 of 2

Although I had given up on becoming as good a seamstress as Sharon or 
Penny, I discovered I had another talent. One Saturday when we drove 
into Paxton to get some feed, we got to do a little shopping while we 
were there. I was in one of the variety stores and saw a leather kit 
where I could make a purse. I really liked the purse and thought 
making it would be fun, so I counted out my money and bought it. That 
seemed innocent enough. Purses were girl things and lacing up the 
edges was a little like sewing. However, I discovered I really liked 
leather working. I bought several other pre-cut kits, as soon as I 
could save the money, and made things like knife scabbards, tool 
holders, and even a pistol holster. I sold some of these things to 
boys at school and got more than my money back on them. Then I got 
innovative, making things from uncut pieces of leather I would buy at 
the saddle shop or the shoe repair shop. I made saddle scabbards for  
Pop's and Mr. Taylor's deer rifles, and I even made Pop a special 
scabbard and mount to go on his tractor so he could carry his shotgun 
when he was in the field. He really liked that.



Finally, my imagination turned naughty and I made myself some belt 
holsters for the Elastrator and the Burdizzo. It took a few tries to 
get my design perfected, but when I was satisfied with the results, I 
made Sharon a set also. I can only imagine how we must have looked in 
our little hot pants and boots, wearing a holster with a castrator 
tool slung on our hip, swaggering and strutting, like some Old West 
gunfighter wearing a six gun. (Pop even told me once not to dress 
like that and wear that thing in front of people.)



By the time Sharon and I entered the eleventh grade we considered 
ourselves quite accomplished in our craft. Word had gotten around to 
some of the other local farms and we actually made some money 
castrating animals on neighboring farms. Our services would have been 
in even greater demand, but this was a subject that people tended not 
to talk too much about.



Sharon and I actually had a few dates with boys, but they acted to 
much like animals in rut to be fun. They were in such a rush to get 
into our pants they couldn't think or talk about anything else. Their 
shallow attempts to make conversation were sometimes amusing, but in 
general, they weren't very good company. None of them ever asked us 
about our little avocation, but I think the word had gotten around 
enough that some of them were afraid of us. This always gave me a 
naughty, sexy feeling when I thought about it.



That fall the livestock gelding season was essentially over and I was 
turning my thoughts to academic pursuits (I really wanted one of 
those scholarships). Then something happened that I will never 
forget. I was setting in class one afternoon and some student came 
around with one of those little routine message drops to give 
something to the teacher. The teacher announced it and posted it on 
the bulletin board (something about the basketball schedule I think). 
The messenger whispered something to a couple of students in the 
front row before she left. Soon I heard an excited whisper 
circulating around the room. From the tone of it I knew in could only 
be juicy gossip. It seems that some boy had climbed up into the 
ceiling joists above the girl's dressing room in the gym to spy on 
them while they dressed and undressed. They spotted him and screamed, 
and the coach caught the boy. No one knew who the boy was yet though.



I knew what that meant (we all knew the drill). This would be 
considered a very serious offence. The coach would give him a severe 
paddling before sending him to the Principal's office where he would 
receive another severe paddling. And if his parents were like most, 
they would insure that he received even more severe punishment at 
home than the school had dealt out. The wrath of the righteous rod 
hung like a heavy pall over kids in that part of the country in those 
days. The paddles used by the school were made in the shop by the Vo-
Ag boys. They were generally made from three-quarter inch thick 
lumber, four inches wide. They were usually about two feet long with 
about half of the length being the handle. Some were planed down 
thinner and had little holes drilled in them to make them sting 
worse. Others had clever little slogans painted on them like, "Board 
of Education," etc.



The bell rang and we all ran out into the hall to go to our next 
class. I glanced down the hall and saw three silhouetted figures 
entering the door at the opposite end. There were two big figures on either side of a small one. They were half dragging him along as though he was reluctant to come or he wasn't walking too well. 
(Whippings in those days often made a kid walk funny for a few days.) 
I instinctively knew it was the head coach and his assistant bringing 
in the little peeping-tom for further discipline from the Principal. Once they were inside, and no longer just silhouettes, I could see 
who the boy was. It was Melvin Watkins, Sharon's little brother!



My next class was library period. The library was close by the office 
and I could hear angry adult voices and an occasional wimpy reply 
that sounded like "yes sir" or "no sir," but I couldn't make out the 
details of the conversation. Suddenly there was dead silence. I knew 
what that meant. We all knew what that meant. Every kid in the 
library was staring blankly at a book, their ears attuned to the 
drama that was unfolding down the hall.



The first lick echoed down the hall like a shot form a squirrel 
rifle. You could hear the students in the library sigh uneasily as 
they pretended to be engrossed in their reading material. I heard a 
second lick, then a third, Melvin cried out in pain. He should have 
known better than that, I thought. Everyone knew that when you cried 
out you got an extra lick. That rule was supposed to keep boys from 
making a mockery of a paddling by crying out with fake pain. But I 
knew poor Melvin was hurting because I saw the way he was walking 
when they brought him in. I had no idea how many licks the coach had 
given him. When I heard the sixth lick I breathed a little sigh of 
relief. I thought surely they were through. He was probably given 
five licks and a sixth for crying out. When the seventh lick landed I 
jerked my head up in disbelief. All the kids in the library were 
looking around just like I was. Then our gaze was met by the 
librarian and we quickly feigned interest in our books again. The 
licks didn't stop until number eleven. Ten for discipline, one for 
crying out.



There was only one more period before the busses ran, but Melvin 
wouldn't be riding the bus that afternoon. I heard the stern, somber 
voice of Rev. Watkins in the office. They must have called him. The 
bell rang and I had to go to my last class, but out the window I saw 
Rev. Watkins escorting Melvin out to his big maroon, four door Buick. 
Melvin couldn't really walk; Rev. Watkins was holding him under the 
armpits and dragging him. His expression seemed to exude no sympathy 
for the boy whatsoever.



The next day Sharon told me what had happened to Melvin that night.



"Dad was furious with Mel and said he had brought disgrace on the 
family. Dad being a preacher, just made it all the worse. Mel should 
have been the last boy you would think of that would do a thing like 
that. Dad was going to give Mel another whipping on the butt, but 
when he saw how bruised and swollen it already was, he decided he 
might permanently injure him that way. Instead, he made Melvin strip 
to his briefs and hold to the back of a chair ‘cause Melvin couldn't 
stand on his own. Then Dad took off his belt and strapped Melvin's 
thighs until they bled. Even though Dad stood behind him the belt 
wrapped around his legs, leaving ugly red welts that went almost 
around his legs. When some of the welts began to bleed Dad decided 
Mel had had enough. Mom just put an old sheet on the bed so Mel 
wouldn't bleed on the good one, and he just laid there and choked and 
sniffled. I think he was actually afraid to cry."



"That's awful," I said. "What Melvin did was naughty, but he 
shouldn't be beaten to death for it."



"I know. Mom and me felt sorry for him too, but we didn't dare show 
sympathy while Dad was dishing out punishment. He would see that as 
us crossing him, and you don't do that."



"Well, I guess when he comes back to school he'll stay out of the 
girl's dressing room," I said, preparing to wind this up and change 
the subject.



"Oh Terri Lynn, you don't know the half of it yet. All the time Dad 
was whipping Mel with his belt he was threatening to take Mel to the 
doctor and have him neutered, and you know how nervous Mel gets just 
thinking about animals being neutered. Poor Melvin was just shaking 
and trembling, afraid to cry. Dad kept saying the he didn't want to 
ever hear of him peeping at a girl again and there was only one sure 
way to prevent that."



"They can't really do that though, can they? I mean someone's parents 
just can't take their boy to the doctor and have him neutered simply 
because he did something naughty."



"I don't think so either, Terri Lynn. I don't think a doctor would do 
it. But it's worse than that. Dad is going to take him to a home for 
wayward boys, down in Freeport. He's taking him today. We won't be 
seeing Melvin again for months. Dad says it will teach him a lesson. 
They might do something like that there."



I just looked at Sharon with a knowing, sympathetic expression. 
Freeport was an old river town about a hundred and fifty miles away, 
and I had heard of the boys school there. I had only been to Freeport 
a couple of times; I was a little kid then and Stanley was with us. I 
remember Pop pointing to a sign and telling Stanley that was where 
boys ended up when they were really bad. You couldn't see the boys 
school from the road, just a gate and a sign, with a long driveway 
disappearing into some trees. It was a religious school, but I don't 
think it was any particular denomination. . But somehow the thought 
of Melvin being sent there made a chill come over me. Something about 
that school seemed spooky and medieval.



"Terri Lynn, I feel sorry for Melvin, I truly do," Sharon continued, 
" but there's something I've got to tell you."



"Yes?"



"Well, when Dad was strapping Melvin with the belt and threatening to 
have him neutered, and Mel was so terrified at the thought of being 
neutered, I watched that belt putting those big red welts on his 
legs, some of them real close to the crotch of his briefs. I wondered 
what would happen if one of the blows went high and hit Melvin in his 
things, and I knew he must be wondering that too. I actually started 
getting turned on thinking about it. I know it's awful Terri Lynn, 
but the thought of Mel getting whipped on his things, then taken to 
the doctor to be neutered made me have an orgasm. Since all the 
attention was on Melvin nobody noticed me, but I had an orgasm 
watching that belt come so close to poor Mel's crotch, and imagining 
that he was being whipped in the crotch and then taken away to be 
neutered. I feel ashamed, Terri Lynn, but I couldn't help it!"



What Sharon was telling me was getting me turned on also. More than 
just the story and the situation, it was the way she told it and the 
look she had on her face, and the tone of her voice. She was really 
into it, and that, as much as anything, was turning me on.



I tried to laugh it off. I told Sharon that she knew how neutering 
turned me on and she had been hanging out with me too long. I had 
been a bad influence on her. It wasn't her fault. We both laughed and 
lightened up a little after that.



I didn't spend anymore nights at Sharon's house that fall. She came 
to our place and spent the night a couple of times. I know she felt 
more comfortable with us than at home. Rev. Watkins brought Melvin 
back from the boys school just before Christmas. He was very subdued, 
obedient and eager to please. At first we speculated that they might 
have carried out Rev. Watkins' threat and had him neutered, but 
Sharon overheard her father threatening Melvin with it if he was ever 
involved in future transgressions of a sexual nature. He wouldn't be 
given another chance.



With the coming of spring things seemed to be returning to normal. 
Sharon and I were performing the livestock castrations on both our 
farms and several neighboring farms again with Penny helping most of 
the time. Rev. Watkins seemed to be over his fit of rage involving 
Melvin, and was his normal calm, reverent self again. I started 
spending an occasional night at Sharon's house now, just like old 
times.



Toward the end of spring, we began to speculate about whether Melvin 
had a crush on Penny. We could tell by the way he acted around her, 
getting tongue tied and nervous when he spoke to her, and going out 
of his way to do little things he thought would please her. We also 
watched his reaction when anyone spoke of Penny in his presence. I 
know it was cruel, but Sharon and I used to purposely talk about 
Penny having a crush on some boy at school in front of Melvin. In 
spite of his efforts to look disinterested and aloof, we could tell 
that our conversation was making him uncomfortable and he even looked 
a little dejected.



Penny had really filled out nicely in the last three years. She was 
fourteen now and Melvin was sixteen. I think Penny was a much 
prettier girl than I was, at least she was more traditionally 
feminine. Penny had reached her full height at 5'6, although we 
didn't know it at the time, and she was really cute. I was more the 
Amazon type, and proud of it.



That summer was enjoyable if uneventful. The three of us continued 
working as a team castrating farm animals in addition to all our 
other chores. Of course we did all the normal things teenage girls 
did too. We just hung out and had fun together, made nifty clothes on 
our moms' sewing machines, and I kept working on my leather craft. If 
it weren't for our prurient obsession with that one peculiar farm 
chore, we would have been considered pretty normal girls.



When school started that fall Sharon and I were seniors. We were 
probably the most valuable players on the Pea Branch High School 
basketball team (not meaning to brag), but this would be our last 
year. We had both earned scholarships (academic, not basketball - 
girls couldn't get those) to West Central College and were looking 
forward to starting there the next year. We would be roommates of 
course. Penny was just starting ninth grade and Melvin was starting 
tenth.



One afternoon after basketball practice Sharon approached me with a 
concerned look on her face.



"Terri Lynn, there's something I need to talk to you about. It may be 
bad news; I don't know, but I just have to talk to someone who will 
understand. Maybe you can help me decide what to do."



"Bad news? Sharon, you're not pregnant are you?"



"Oh no, it's nothing like that," she said, chuckling "it's not about 
me, it's about Melvin. I think he's playing peeping tom again and I'm 
afraid it's going to get him into big trouble."



"Who's he been spying on this time?"



"Me"



"Oh no, you don't mean it!"



"Uh huh, he's been looking through the keyhole in the door when I 
undress."



The houses we lived in that part of the country in those days were 
nothing like modern homes. It was common for two bedrooms to be 
connected by a door and most of those old homes didn't even have 
closets designed into them when they were built. Closets (and 
bathrooms) were something that were added in the last few years. An 
old bedroom between Sharon's and Melvin's bedrooms had been cut up 
into a bathroom and two closets - one for Sharon and one for Melvin. 
An old door connected Melvin's closet to Sharon's bedroom. It had an 
old fashioned knob with a keyhole you could actually see through if 
you put you eye up to it and peeped. The door had one of those little 
cheap dead bolt latches on both sides so that the occupant of each 
room would have to unlatch their dead bolt before the door could be 
opened.



"I got suspicious when I heard noises coming from his closet, you 
know, heavy breathing and a rhythmic noise like he was jerking his 
thing back and forth. At first I thought about yelling out and asking 
him what the hell he was doing and making a big scene. Then I 
realized that Dad would be so furious that he would beat Mel half to 
death and probably send him to that boys school in Freeport until he 
was eighteen. Mel can be a naughty little twerp sometimes, but he 
doesn't deserve the kind of punishment that Dad would dish out. So I 
just went over and hung my blouse over the keyhole real casually like 
I didn't know anything was going on. I needed to figure out what to 
do. I also had to make sure this wasn't just my imagination.

"After that, I started paying real close attention to the noises I 
heard coming from Mel's closet. I think he masturbates in there a 
lot. He doesn't have to be looking through the keyhole at me, but 
when I leave it uncovered and start undressing I almost always hear 
him masturbating. Those sounds couldn't be coming from anything else. 
I know that's what he's doing.

"I still thought I might just be imagining things, so I purposely put 
on a little show just to be sure. I undressed real slowly and laid on 
the bed in my underwear and rubbed lotion all over my body. I could 
hear the noises coming from his closet. He was jacking off. I pulled 
off my bra and rubbed lotion onto my tits. I could hear his breathing 
getting heavy. I got up and raised my arms like I was stretching, 
then I turned around with my back to the keyhole bent over and 
touched my toes several times, just doing stretching exercises. I 
could hear the door pop just a little; I knew he was pressing against 
it.  Finally, with my butt toward the keyhole, I peeled off my 
panties, letting them slide down my legs to the floor. I bent over 
and picked them up, then casually reached back hung them over the 
door knob, just blocking the view through the keyhole. That must have 
really frustrated the little twerp, but I was too late. I heard him 
cum; he even cried out. He couldn't help it. Then I heard him 
cleaning himself up with toilet paper. That's what he always uses; I 
can hear the sound of it rattling.

"I've got to make him stop this before Dad finds out. Dad would beat 
the hell out of him and send him back to that boys school even if he 
just caught him jacking off, much less peeping at me."



"Yeah, they might even neuter him this time."



"Probably," Sharon agreed, "but that would solve his little problem. 
His hormones are going to get him into big trouble sooner or later. I 
just hate to see him get the beatings and be sent away to that 
school. Mel's not really a bad boy, it's just that his hormones are 
causing him to do things that are going to get him into big trouble. 
I can't just stand by and watch that happen.

"Terri Lynn, I think I have a plan that will solve his problem and 
keep him out of trouble. It's for his own good, really. But I'll need 
your help, and Penny's too."



As Sharon described her plan I began to feel flushed and giddy and my 
crotch started getting damp. We rationalized that what we were 
planning would be for Melvin's own good and in his best interest, and 
this was partially true. Looking back, however, I realize that we 
just needed an excuse to pull off the ultimate scene.



About three weeks later Rev. and Mrs. Watkins planned a three-day 
weekend trip to a seminar. Sharon was mature enough now that they 
thought nothing of leaving her in charge of the house while they were 
gone and they knew that Penny and I would be spending the weekend 
with her.

It was just past noon on Saturday when Melvin came in from squirrel 
hunting (empty handed). We joked about not being able to depend on 
him for putting food on the table and we cooked up a good dinner of 
fried chicken and country vegetables.



We talked about maybe going into Paxton that evening and watching a 
movie. Rev. and Mrs. Watkins were in the Buick and left their pickup 
truck. They didn't care if Sharon drove it. We were joking about how 
all four of us would fit into the cab and finally decided that Melvin 
would have to ride in the middle and let Penny sit in his lap. 
Melvin's crush on Penny was stronger than ever and the thought of her 
riding in his lap going to and from town was making him dizzy. He was 
practically jabbering and slobbering as he tried to talk. Penny 
suggested that Melvin wash the dishes and she would dry them and keep 
him company while he did it. I have never seen a boy jump into that 
job with more enthusiasm, and Penny was certainly enjoying the power 
she had over Melvin.



"If we're going into town tonight we'd better start getting cleaned 
up," Sharon announced. "Melvin, you go first, and don't leave a ring 
around the tub. We don't want to take a bath in your gunk."



"Oh he wouldn't do that," Penny said, in a really sweet voice. "I 
think Mel is a really neat boy. I can tell by the way he washed the 
dishes."



Needless to say, when Melvin finished his bath the tub was spotless. 
(I don't know why, but in those days nobody installed shower heads in 
their bathrooms, just tubs. I took my first shower when I moved into 
the college dorm, and loved it.) It was kind of a dirty trick, but 
while Melvin was in the tub Sharon slipped into his closet and 
unlatched the dead bolt on his side of the door connecting it to her 
bedroom. If her plan worked, he would never notice.



We three girls went into the bathroom together (it was a rather large 
room, being made from half a bedroom), taking turns with the tub, and 
fixing our hair, and just talking girl talk. When we were finished we 
donned our bath robes and went into Sharon's bedroom. We had about 
three hours to kill before we were supposed to leave for town. Of 
course going into town wasn't really in our plans, we just came up 
with that to help rook Melvin into our scheme. If events unfolded as 
we expected, we wouldn't be going to the movies tonight at all.



Once in the bedroom, we put on our panties and nothing else, no bras. 
We laughed and giggled about us all three having to sleep in one bed 
tonight and decided we needed to move it away from the wall so it 
would be easy to get in and out from either side. Actually we were 
making sure the bed was at center stage in front of the keyhole. We 
sat on the bed and started brushing and combing each other's hair 
while discussing the pros and cons of various body lotions. Finally 
we decided on a lotion and each one of us took turns laying on the 
bed and letting the other two girls apply the lotion. The recipient 
would sigh and squirm with pleasure and giggle with happy, 
spontaneous delight.



Suddenly Sharon stuck her finger in her ear and winked at us - the 
prearranged signal. We continued on as though nothing had happened, 
but our ears were acutely attuned to any sounds coming from the 
closet. Sure enough, we heard the subtle, but telltale sounds of a 
boy masturbating. The sounds were barely perceptible and could have 
been easily ignored if we weren't specifically listening for them.



"I've got something else we've got to try," Sharon exclaimed, walking 
over to her dresser, out of the keyhole's range of view.



Penny was laying on the bed with her feet toward the closet door and 
the keyhole. I would grab first one of her ankles, then the other, 
stretching it up until her toes almost touched her forehead. With the 
other hand I would apply lotion to the backs of her thighs, running 
my fingers under the hem of her panties to rub lotion onto her 
buttocks.



"Ooh, that tickles!" she cried.



"No, don't tell me it tickles," I said, facetiously. "You're just 
being silly!"



Then we both started gigging. We were having fun, but most of all we 
were putting on a show and providing a diversion for Sharon who was 
stealthily inching her way toward the closet door, out of sight of 
the keyhole. Above our own giggling and clowning I could hear 
breathing and a soft, subtle, rhythmic "pat pat pat" coming from 
behind the closet door. I was shaking like a leaf with nervous 
excitement and I was also turned on. If things went as planned, what 
was about to happen was unbelievably erotic. I noticed that Penny had 
a small spot about the size of a quarter in the crotch of her panties 
that was damp with secretions. This told me she was turned on too.



Hugging the wall, Sharon placed both hands on the dead bolt to dampen 
any sound, and silently slipped it open. Careful not to cast a shadow 
in front of the keyhole, she quietly grasped the knob. She had 
practiced this many times. The fact the door opened out into the 
bedroom rather than back into the closet was very fortunate for our 
plans.



"What's that noise?" she exclaimed loudly, jerking the closet door 
open with one quick motion.



"Melvin! Wh... wh... what are you doing?" Sharon appeared to be 
startled and transfixed with disbelief.



Penny and I jumped up from the bed and screamed, feigning fright and 
astonishment, playing out our roles to the hilt.



Melvin was kneeling on the closet floor where he had been peeping 
through the keyhole. He was still holding hid diminutive little 
member in his hand. I'm sure he was just about to cum, and we watched 
his expression quickly change from erotic anticipation to surprise, 
then to horror at his discovery. Unlike Sharon's, Melvin's emotions 
were genuine. He was naked except for a pair of girl's panties. He 
had pulled the waistband down enough gain access to his member for 
masturbating.



"You've been watching us through the keyhole, haven't you?" Sharon 
demanded. " We've caught you red handed you perverted little twerp. 
You were watching us and... and performing that disgusting, sinful 
act. You put your little pee pee worm back in your...  What is that 
you're wearing? Those are panties; girl's panties. Where did you get 
them?"



"I'm... I'm sorry," Melvin whimpered weakly, his initial expression 
of surprise now giving way to an expression of shame and 
embarrassment.



"Melvin, I asked you where you got those panties! They're mine aren't 
they?"



"Y... Ye... Yes."



"You sneaked into my room and stole them, didn't you?"



"N... No, I... I got them off the clothesline."



At this point I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Poor Melvin 
was completely mortified now. He was shaking and starting to cry.



"I've heard these noises in the closet for weeks," Sharon continued. 
"I suspected, but I didn't want to believe it. I gave you the benefit 
of the doubt, but I see my suspicions were right. This is disgusting, 
Melvin.

"And what's this?" Sharon asked, adamantly, as she picked up roll of 
toilet paper from the floor beside Melvin. "Is this what you clean up 
with? I've heard toilet paper rattling in here. That's what it was, 
wasn't it? You were trying to clean up your disgusting, sinful little 
mess. You've been peeping on me for weeks and doing that unspeakable, 
sinful thing while you watched me, haven't you Melvin?

"Answer me! Haven't you?



"Y... Yes, b... but..."



"This is awful," Penny said, with exaggerated dismay and 
disappointment in her voice. "Melvin, I thought you were such a nice 
boy, and now you're acting like a nasty-minded pervert!"



I could see that Penny's comment cut him to the bone. His jaw was 
trembling and he was about ready to bawl.



"Maybe we shouldn't go too hard on him," I said. "After all, it's his 
hormones that are causing him to behave like this. He can't help it. 
I believe Melvin really is a nice boy at heart.  He's just out of 
control."



"Well, he's not going to have to worry about his little hormones 
after Dad finds out about this. Dad will have Melvin neutered. Had 
you forgotten about Dad's promise, Melvin?"



"Pl... pl... please, Sharon. Don't tell Dad."



"Melvin, we just can't let this pass. If you're allowed to get away 
with it this time you'll just do it again. Now get up off the floor 
and get out of my panties! After Dad has you neutered you won't be 
interested in girls and slick nylon panties or anything like that. 
You know what it does to the calves and pigs; well, you're going to 
be the same way.



Melvin looked up at Sharon with stark terror in his eyes as he 
gingerly stood up, holding to the door facing for support. He put his 
hands on the waistband of his panties, then looked out at us and 
hesitated.



"Go ahead. Get out of them! They're not yours. They're mine!"



Without waiting for Melvin to act, Sharon reached over pulled his 
panties down around his ankles and jerked him to one side, forcing 
him to step out of them. Then she stepped back and laughed.



"See there, you don't have anything a girl would get excited about. 
Besides, as soon as Dad gets home you won't be a boy much longer 
anyway. You know it's really for your own good, Melvin. Your 
perverted mind would get you into really big trouble someday, even 
worse than this. I do feel sorry for you though, Melvin. I hate to 
see the beating you're going to get. It will be horrible; you know 
that, don't you? Then you will be sent to the boys school, probably 
until you're twenty one. I hate to think about what it will be like 
for a neutered, sissified, little boy in there with all those big 
rough mean boys - and they aren't neutered!"



Melvin was starting to cry and big tears were rolling down his 
cheeks. He looked so helpless and vulnerable standing there naked. 
His little scrotum was about the size of a golf ball and his little 
penis, now flaccid, was about half the length of a cigarette and no 
bigger around.



"What do we have here?" Sharon inquired, spotting something on the 
closet floor and picking it up.



It was a copy of the Sears catalog, opened to a page in the girls' 
underwear and lingerie section. There were stains on the pages and we 
knew where they came from. Sharon turned to the girls' swim wear 
section and found the pages similarly stained with semen.



"Melvin, this is worse than I thought! You're a real pervert! You're 
going to be in so much trouble when Dad gets home. I would hate to be 
you, Melvin. Your life is going to be hell from now on. Dad will see 
to that!"



"This is so awful," I said. "I wish there were something we could do. 
I know it's not really your fault, Melvin. Your hormones have just 
caused you to go out of control."



"We're not really mad at you, Melvin," Sharon said, softening her 
tone a little bit. "We just don't like what you did. I actually feel 
sorry for you."



"I don't want him to have to go off to that old boys school," Penny 
said. "Melvin, I really do like you. I like you a lot. But this is 
perverted! I wish it didn't have to be this way. I'm going to miss 
you so much when they take you away to that place."



That did it for Melvin, and he started crying like a baby. He had 
such a crush on Penny and just as she seemed to be reciprocating his 
affection he was faced with being sent away to the boys school for 
the rest of his youthful years. The thought of it was just crushing 
his soul.



"Bless his heart," I said, going up to him and cradling him in my 
arms. I held him to me and snuggled his face against my chest. The 
feel of his tears running down my bare breasts as he sniveled and 
choked was turning me on. I had an overwhelming urge to offer him a 
breast to suckle, like a pacifier, but I knew I shouldn't. I was 
actually a little surprised that he didn't try something like that 
himself, but he was so emotionally devastated that he was beyond 
thinking of my attention in a sexual way. He desperately needed 
affection and consolation. He was in total submission now, knowing 
that his life and future were in our hands.



"I have an idea," Sharon said, thoughtfully, "but you'll have to 
agree to it, Melvin. Your perverted behavior and this whole horrible 
thing was caused by that little wad between your legs. Dad will have 
that taken care of when he gets back, but I don't think you deserve 
the beating he'll give you, and I really don't want to see you sent 
away to the boys school again.

"Melvin, if you'll let us neuter you we won't have to tell Dad, 
because after that we can be sure you'll never do a thing like this 
again."



I felt Melvin's body become tense, then limp, as Sharon's words hit 
him. He looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes to see if I would 
concur with Sharon's decision. Melvin clung to me tightly as his body 
began to thimble, his head still nestled between my breasts. I was 
larger than him, and the feel of his helpless, naked body clinging to 
me in desperate supplication caused a surge of ecstasy to race 
through my body. I felt the raw, awesome power of the female over the 
male. It was a lot like the rush I got when we castrated calves or 
pigs, but much stronger.



"What Sharon says is right, Melvin," I said, as I looked down at his 
pleading face. "It would be much better than turning you over to your 
father and those people at the boys school."



"W... Will it hurt?" he sniveled.



"Not too much, Mel; not much at all," I said, in a very consoling and 
condescending tone as I ran my fingers through his hair. I knew that 
in his mind he was preparing to voluntarily surrender his manhood to 
us. I found that idea to be more erotic than any other fantasy I ever 
had involving boys.



"It won't hurt nearly as badly as that beating Dad will give you if 
we have to tell him about this," Sharon said. "And don't forget, 
we're experts at this. We're the best castrators in the county, even 
better than the vet."



"I think this would really be best for you, Melvin," Penny said. "We 
can even make it fun for you!"



"That's right," I concurred. "We'll even let you cum one last time. 
You'll be enjoying yourself so much you won't even know when we do 
it. They wouldn't be that nice at the boys school; you know that. 
They would probably just strap you to a table and cut them out."



"H... How are you going to do it?"



"You just leave that to us," Sharon said. "Now what will it be, Mel, 
our way, or Dad's way?"



"O... k... k... Okay, I'll do it your way," Melvin sobbed.



I led Melvin out into the bedroom and Sharon told him to stand with 
his legs apart. Sharon and I then squatted on the floor on either 
side of him and began examining his testicles with our fingers. 
Melvin's body was tense and I almost expected him to bolt and run any 
second. I felt a rush of naughty excitement surge through me. We had 
done this so many times with calves it felt almost routine, yet I 
knew that this time we were about to castrate Sharon's brother! The 
feeling was truly weird.



Although it had been a year since Melvin had received his severe 
strapping, I could still see the telltale marks on his thighs, made 
by the belt. They were light pink and ever so faint. You might easily 
ignore them if you didn't know about the strapping. I played my 
fingers over them and it helped reinforce my rationalization that 
what we were doing was really for Melvin's own good. His testosterone 
had caused him to go out of control and that's what caused him to get 
in trouble and receive beatings and strappings. If we didn't do this 
to him it would only get worse.



"If he were a calf, I'd say use the Elastrator," I said, feeling of 
his testicles; they were about the size of small pecans.



"Yeah, the little goat bands," Sharon giggled.



"Oh, don't make fun of him," Penny protested. "I think his little 
things are cute. It's really a shame we have to do this to him."



"I know," I said. "He would have been such a nice boy if he could 
only have controlled his naughty urges."



"Well, he's about to become a very nice little boy, " Sharon said, 
rising to her feet. "Before long, he just won't have any naughty 
thoughts. I think we'll use the Burdizzo, though. We don't really 
want him to have to watch his little things to dry up and drop off. 
That would be harder for a boy than for a calf." Sharon giggled and 
walked over to the dresser, behind and out of sight of Melvin.



Of course we had planned to use the Burdizzo all along. We just 
talked about the Elastrator to tease Melvin a little. We didn't want 
him to have any obvious external signs that anything had happened to 
him. Although Melvin still had an expression of fear and distress in 
his face, the fondling his testicles had been receiving was causing 
him to become erect again. I took his little penis between my fingers 
and rolled it around and played with it. I realized that this was the 
first time I had ever had my hands on a boy's penis. It felt very 
erotic. A part of me wished very sincerely that we wouldn't do this 
to him, yet another part of me was being driven wild with ecstasy at 
the very thought of it.



Sharon returned from the dresser with the Burdizzo. Melvin never 
questioned why the Burdizzo tool was conveniently located in Sharon's 
dresser drawer this afternoon. Never mind that the Watkins's didn't 
own a Burdizzo and that it was usually kept in our barn. This whole 
scene was planned and poor Melvin never caught on. He thought is was 
just a spontaneous reaction to his naughty behavior.



"Here," Sharon said, handing me a condom in a foil wrapper. "This 
will keep him from making such a mess."



The condom was one of those I had found in the box of Stanley's 
things. We would have only four left now. Neither of us had yet 
worked up the nerve to go into a drug store in Paxton and buy a pack.



Sharon carefully pressed the closed jaws of the Burdizzo between 
Melvin's legs and into his crotch as though she was measuring or 
checking the size. (Burdizzos come in different sizes, but we only 
had the one.) Melvin jerked a gasped a when he felt the cold metal 
against his crotch.



"Spread you legs a little more," Sharon ordered. "and don't worry," 
she giggled, "I'm not going to do it to you right now. I'll wait ‘til 
you cum. You're small enough we can get ‘em both with one pinch. 
That'll be better for you."



I stood up and locked my left leg around Melvin's right from behind, 
pulling it from beneath him a forcing him to lean on me for balance. 
I nodded to Penny and she locked his left leg in a similar hold. He 
had to place an arm around each of our necks to keep from falling.



Melvin's penis was fully erect now, in spite of his obvious distress. 
I tore open the foil pack and removed the condom, then rolled it onto 
Melvin's diminutive little organ. The condom was wet and slick with 
lubricant and he gasped with pleasure at the sensation. Melvin's 
penis was no bigger around than one of those big fat pencils they 
give you in first grade, but much shorter. He couldn't have had much 
more than three inches. However, the little thing was hard as a rock.



I had never masturbated a boy before and I was rather awkward until I 
got the hang of it. However, my fumbling just served to tease him. He 
began involuntarily thrusting his pelvis back and forth as I slowly 
pumped his little member. I realized from his thrusting that he 
wanted me to go faster and the slow pace of my masturbation was 
frustrating him. I liked that. The realization that I was holding 
pleasure just beyond his reach was very satisfying. The squirming of 
his legs and body against mine was turning me on and I had to fight 
my desire to take him down on the bed and give him a real fuck. But 
we had made a pact when we planned this. We wouldn't allow Melvin to 
have real sex, not even for his last time. We would just masturbate 
him in a condom.



"It's okay to touch me you know, Mel. You can touch my titties and 
feel my panties. You won't be able to think naughty thoughts much 
longer so you had better enjoy it while you can. That's a boy. This 
is lots better than looking a pictures in a catalog, isn't it Mel?"



"Y... Yeah," he squeaked, frantically.



I was supporting his weight with my left hand in his crotch while I 
masturbated him with my right.



"You can touch me too," Penny whined, admonishingly. "I was hoping 
you might think I was kind of special. I've always thought you were 
special, Melvin. I'm really sorry we have to do this to you; I really 
am. But if you love me, and it comes from your heart and not your 
balls, it won't matter. Do you love me, Melvin."



"Oh yes, yes, Penny. I do love you," he gasped, diverting his 
attention from me to Penny.



"Don't you want to kiss me?", she asked. "I've never been kissed by a 
boy before, Melvin, and you'd better hurry up because you're not 
going to be a boy much longer."



Melvin began frantically kissing Penny on the face and mouth. I could 
tell he was very unpracticed and inexperienced because he was just 
smacking her with his lips and not using his tongue at all. (Of 
course I wasn't experienced either, but I had read lots of books.) 
Penny diverted Melvin's frantic mouth down to her pointed, pear-
shaped breasts and it required no coaxing to get him to take one into 
his mouth. He began jabbering nonsense sounds as he alternated 
between her breasts and I instinctively knew he would not last much 
longer before he came.



"Y'all, do we have to do this to him?" Penny pleaded.



"Yes!" Sharon barked, assertively. "If we don't, he'll get himself in 
big trouble later on. It's really in Mel's best interest that we do 
this. Look at him. He's completely out of control. Now spread his 
legs a little more; it's almost time."



It was as though Melvin's whole body had become a phallus. He was 
jerking and quivering as he rushed toward release. With my leg still 
locked around his I pulled it further out. Penny swung around until 
she was mostly in front of him and he was supporting his weight with 
his arms around Penny's neck. I was kneading his little balls with my 
left hand and I saw Sharon open the jaws of the Burdizzo.



"Sharon, this is so cruel," I whispered softly to her.



"I know," she replied in the same soft whisper. "Just choke ‘em off 
and pull ‘em down."



"Mel, don't go so fast!" Penny admonished. "Don't you want to make it 
last? You know that as soon as you cum you won't be a boy anymore, so 
slow down and enjoy it."



Melvin was jabbering incoherently, on and off, as he alternated 
between Penny's breasts and face, kissing her with his lips. I saw 
Penny pull his face to hers and force her tongue into his mouth. 
Melvin opened his eyes in joyous astonishment at the unexpected 
pleasure (Penny, though inexperienced, had read romance novels too).



I felt a pulsation in his penis, like holding a garden hose when the 
water was turned on. I nodded to Sharon who was squatting on the 
floor behind Melvin.



Melvin shrieked like a rabbit caught in a trap as the big metal jaws 
of the Burdizzo disconnected his little balls from their cords and 
blood supply. It happened, as we had planned, at the peak of his 
ejaculation. Sharon held the handles together and slowly counted to 
seven in a whisper before releasing him. She had followed that 
procedure so many times with calves it was like a reflex. I continued 
pumping Melvin's penis until I was sure his orgasm was spent, then 
Penny and I pulled him down onto the bed and cuddled him between us. 
He was sobbing and gasping, and as he looked into our eyes his 
expression was one of total surrender. The whole scene had lasted no 
more than five minutes and Melvin's life was now changed forever. I 
guessed he had fantasized many times about being in bed between me 
and Penny, but I doubt that in his wildest dreams he would thought it 
could really come true. Now here he was, sandwiched between two 
beautiful female bodies, being smothered with kisses and caresses, 
his legs entwined with ours, and our firm, naked breasts pressing 
against his chest. It was his fantasy come true, except now he was 
castrated!



Sharon returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp washcloth and a 
towel and began cleaning him up. She felt of his scrotum to check her 
handiwork.



"It feels like everything is disconnected," she said with 
professional detachment in her voice. "Does it hurt?"



"No, not anymore."



"Did it hurt when we did it?"



"Y... yeah," he sobbed, "it hurt real bad, but it was a good hurt, 
like... like... I don't know. Nothing ever hurt so much before, and 
nothing ever felt that good before. There's nothing else like it."



We made Melvin cum three more times that evening. We told him we had 
to pump all of his hormones out so he would become a total eunuch 
much more quickly. Of course we knew it didn't really work that way, 
but each time Melvin came he tried to hold back as long as possible, 
thinking he could retain his masculinity just a little longer if he 
didn't cum. It was both comical and heart rendering to watch him 
struggle with it. Above all, however, we found it highly erotic.



When Melvin's parents returned, two days later, they had no idea 
anything had happened to him. He had been acting very subdued and 
cowed ever since the incident at the school a year ago. He acted no 
differently now. For a few days his scrotum was a little pink and 
sore where the Burdizzo had clamped him, but otherwise he recovered 
beautifully.



About a week later Sharon told me she heard him crying in his bedroom 
and she went in to see what was the matter. He was wearing nothing 
but a pair of briefs and he pulled them up to cover himself when she 
entered. A girls' swim wear catalog was open on the bed beside him.



"Sharon, I can't feel it anymore," he sobbed. "I just can't feel it 
anymore!"


"You mean your little pee pee is numb?" she inquired.


"No," he croaked, "I mean inside; inside my mind. I can't make myself 
feel about girls the way I used to."

"Well, what do you expect, Melvin? That's the whole idea; you're 
castrated!"

He looked up at her with desperation in his eyes. Tears were rolling 
down his face.

"Actually, Mel, you can still feel it, and that's what's wrong. You 
feel it just a little and it makes you wish you could still feel it a 
lot. Once you can't feel it at all, you won't miss it anymore. Before 
long, naughty thoughts will just quit entering your mind. Just give 
it time."

"Oh Sharon," he bawled. "I don't want to be this way. I don't want to 
be this way!"

"It's all for the best, Melvin. Just think of the trouble you would 
be in right now if we hadn't done this. Besides, now that you're 
harmless, me and Terri Lynn, and Penny can take you into our little 
group. It's like you're our mascot now. I love you, Melvin, and Terri 
Lynn loves you, and Penny loves you. We love you in a way that we 
could never love a regular boy. You're very special now, and you'll 
always be a part of our little group."



Melvin collapsed in Sharon's arms and cried for several minutes while 
she comforted him.



About a month later Rev. and Mrs. Watkins had occasion to be out of 
town again for the weekend, and Penny and I spent two nights with 
Sharon and Melvin. Determined to check the results of our little 
caper, we took Melvin to bed with us. It was really no surprise, but 
we were delighted to confirm that he was as harmless as a stuffed 
teddy bear. He did cry a little that night, though; especially when 
Penny talked about how she wished he could have grown up to be a man 
and they could have gotten married and had children.



As the months passed, Melvin became more and more content with his 
new condition. His face still brightened up whenever Penny was around 
and he became her willing and eager little flunky. She commanded his 
complete loyalty and she never had to worry about another girl 
stealing his affections. Penny had just been playing our little game 
and pretending to reciprocate Melvin's crush at his castration scene. 
That had made Melvin easier to manipulate. However, Penny gradually 
became attached to Melvin the same way you would become attached to a 
pet. Melvin was certainly the mascot of our little group.



When Melvin became eighteen he registered for the draft and a few 
months later he received his notice. Of course without balls he 
flunked his physical and was rejected. He told his father that one 
winter he had caught something like the flu and it made his balls 
swell up. He was embarrassed about it, so he said nothing. When the 
swelling went down his balls just kept getting smaller and smaller 
and finally went away. Rev. Watkins declared that this was a gift 
from God and that it was His will to save Melvin from military 
service and combat. It would also take his mind off unclean thoughts 
and allow him to more easily live his life for the Lord. Sharon heard 
their family doctor say that Melvin may have contracted some unusual 
variety of mumps that would have caused this, but he seemed very 
skeptical.



This little story might have been nothing more than an isolated 
incident had it not been for what Sharon and I did in college, and 
beyond. But those are other stories.

______________________________________________________________________
_______

Special thanks to Terri Lynn, Sharon, and Melvin for allowing me to 
print this story.

Farrell Squire

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