Unmanned by the Guillotine...

As I was eating lunch and remembering how wonderful a French pussy feels, I let my eyes gaze to the window and it was then that I saw the notice on a lamppost outside. The drawing of the guillotine caught my attention, and as I saw the flyer my heart began to beat faster in my chest and I felt my cock stir in my pants. WHEN? I think the flyer was saying four o’clock---TODAY! Oh GOD.....as soon as I realized that it was going to happen today I knew I HAD to see it. I can’t describe it, or even why, but there is something about a public execution that is just so entertaining. I wished I could read French! The flyer said something about three men and something about justice being served. But while my French was poor the picture of the machine was something I understood perfectly. I of course, like most Americans, had heard of the guillotine, and yet I never thought in a million years I would have the opportunity to watch it being used. But I was here in France in one of the greatest cities and now it seemed opportunity was knocking on my door and I smart enough to chase it. Oh yes! So, some poor sods were going to lose their heads today! To say I was excited would have been a gross understatement. The guillotine! Just the word could make me hard. Oh, the thought of that blade was enough to get me going. And TODAY of all things! When I had heard that my heart had jumped and was beating after that in a way I cannot describe.

I wasn’t totally new to seeing an execution. When I was a teenager I had seen a hanging once in Texas, and even though it had not gone well I had enjoyed the spectacle immensely. I remembered the young man, somewhere around nineteen with one of those perfect, well define bodies. I think he had stolen someone’s horse, but it might have been something else. I don’t really remember what he did, but I sure do remember him twisting and jerking at the end of the rope, his neck bulging and his eyes bugging out....his lips opening and closing and his fat tongue flailing for air as he twisted and squirmed and slowly strangled to death. I remember it especially when he looked at me, his eyes pleading and begging even as he jerked and twisted. I also remember that he got hard in his pants....his erection was so obvious that at the time I was thinking that in some perverse way he was enjoying his own hanging. I cannot ever forget how everyone was laughing as he struggled. I stayed until it was over, until he had shot his load and then, a few minutes later, taken his final shit and pissed his pants. Even then I had stayed, watching the body quiver and spasm in its death throes until finally, a good half of an hour after he did his drop, he was finally and forever still. I remember one other thing about him. After he was dead, hanging there limp, like a rag doll, I remember the soaked trousers and the still stiff cock...jutting out and all but splitting his pants. He died hard. Rock hard. Yeah, that’s something I’ll never forget. Today, well, today was sure going to be much different, and I was excited even more this time. I wondered if the men that would die today would boast an erection when they too made their trip.

Yes, I was very excited. In fact, when I saw that post outside I forgot everything else and even skipped the great pastries I would have normally had for desert. Instead, I found myself rushing to finish lunch and then heading to the edge of the city, where the prison is, to see the spectacle take place. I didn’t want to miss anything and I wanted to get a good spot to see it. In my rush, I ended up arriving almost three hours early, and had a front row view of the machine I had heard so much about. As I waited and looked at the guillotine, my heart pounded and my excitement grew. I could have cared less if the doomed prisoners were murderers or thieves or men or boys. I didn’t even care if they were innocent or guilty. All I cared about was IT, and the looming prospect of watching the MACHINE complete its killing cycle. As I stared at it I even felt the stirrings of an erection in my pants. I could hardly wait to watch it happen!

But, waiting I was. As I waited with the guillotine only about twenty feet in front of me, I noticed that a crowd began to form. Soon there was a hundred and then a hundred more. After that there was a stream of people, of all ages and dressed in all kinds of ways and the crowd grew by the minute until eventually it was in the thousands. I was surprised at the number of teenagers that seemed to be drawn to this, and there were several parents that could be seen dragging their older children to see the spectacle. The crowd had its share of women too, and everyone seemed excited and there was lots of chatter. Unfortunately for me, not knowing the language, I couldn’t make out much of what was being said. Still, I could hardly believe the number of Frenchmen that continued to show up, and all I could figure was that everyone enjoys watching a doomed man die. That had been true in Texas, and it certainly appeared to be true in France as well.

As I waited I had plenty of time to study the device. This one looked almost new, like it had been made within the last year or so. On its side was a shiny brass plate and I was close enough to read it. It said: “Leon Berger – 1872” and I assumed that must have been the date it was built and perhaps the man that had made it. What struck me was its size. The support arms towered fourteen feet into the air, and there were metal supports that seemed to brace the vertical supports and hold them rigid. Within the supports was a groove, a brass-lined groove that was obviously meant to carry the blade, or mouton, as the French called it. I could see that the grooves were shiny and appeared to be lubricated and would no doubt provide a fast path downward in which the blade could travel toward the unfortunate victim waiting for it below. The diagonal steel blade was huge, bigger than I thought it would be. It was hanging at the top, and seemed to have a steel plate, or perhaps it was lead, bolted to its upper surface to give it additional weight. Its cutting edge was so keen and shiny that it was obvious that it would slice through anything. As I stared at it I recalled that I had heard somewhere that it weighed more than eighty-eight pounds. I tried to imagine the heavy piece of steel falling, the entire giant knife moving all the way from the top to the bottom, picking up speed as it fell and slicing clean through anything or anyone that happened to be in its way. It was then that I noticed the little wheels, at the edges of the blade, and as I saw them I realized that the blade would move effortlessly downward rolling within the groove until it passed through the man’s neck and then onward until it reached the bottom of its travel.

As a killing machine, it looked totally efficient. Certainly much cleaner than the rope I had seen used in Texas. Being an educator, I started to do the calculations. I figured that the drop of the blade itself was a little over half the distance of the vertical posts. I took a scrap of paper and scribbled my notes and did the math. Let me see. Taking the acceleration of gravity into account, I estimated the speed of the blade at the time of impact to be somewhere around 21 feet per second. That would be close, and that meant that it would do its work in about 1/70th of a second, top to bottom. I felt my own neck, and judged the diameter the blade would have to travel if it was separating my head from my body. I figured it would take a man’s head off in less than 2/100’s of a second! God that was fast! I wondered, would it slow down as it did the slice? I calculated the force, which took me a little while longer as I had to remember the formulas.

As I came up with the number, my arms were shaking. God, it would slam into and through a man’s neck with more than 888 pounds of force per square inch! It certainly wouldn’t be slowing down. Instead, it would pass through a man’s neck so fast it would be over before he could feel it. Of course, after it had made its cut, I guessed the individual would live on, for a while, until his brain had died. Like the man twisting on the end of his rope in Texas, the decapitated prisoner would have the time to contemplate his headless state. I wondered how long....30 seconds? More? Less? What would that be like? A head only, hearing the crowd roar as it took its tumble into the waiting basket, unable to breathe or talk or even make a sound. What would it be like to flop into the basket and stare up from the bottom? Would the man hear the glee of the crowd before he drifted away to oblivion? What would he feel as he opened his mouth or tried to swallow? Would he feel the cut? How much would it hurt? I wondered.

Oh I wanted to see it happen! My heart was pounding, and that’s when I noticed the basket was missing. Missing! That seemed strange, and instead of a basket to catch the heads there was only a small silvered bowl of sorts, and it was way too small to hold the head of a man. As I looked at that and tried to make sense of it, I noticed next to me that there was a Frenchman staring at me. As I looked to him, our eyes met.

My face flushed red, as I could sense he was somewhat dismayed at my excitement. Then, in perfect English, he spoke to me: “Ah....an American. So, you have come to see the boys unmanned. The perverts deserve their fate, and I too am looking forward to watching it happen. Today I am proud to be a Frenchman!”

What? I looked at him...stared at him....what the hell was he talking about? I stammered.... “What are you saying? I thought.....the flyer said there was going to be....to be an execution today.”

He looked back at me, and then to the guillotine, and then he laughed a little. Then as he stared at the machine he said: “Not today my friend. Not quite an execution, but close enough I guess. Still, not an execution, although for the little faggots I imagine they might wish it was. In fact, it might be easier on them if it was. So, you haven’t heard then?”

I shook my head from side to side, and gave him my full attention.

He continued: “The police apprehended two boys playing with each other’s cocks, using their mouths and sucking each other like a child suckles his mother. One of the boys is the son of a friend of mine! And there is more. In Lyon they caught an older man as he was mounting an innocent boy. God! What is happening in France? Where are these faggots coming from? The entire thing is just sick! SICK! They don’t deserve to have cocks if they don’t know what they are for. That’s what I say! They certainly don’t deserve their balls either. I hate to say that about my friend’s boy, but hell, he deserves it as much as the others. I say let them all be an example! Let others learn the price for cock sucking! They are an embarrassment and an aberration, so let them pay the price! It’s certainly not what French men do! Personally, I would have beheaded them all. I don’t know whose idea it was to guillotine just their balls and cocks, but it’s a good idea and ought to send a message. If they aren’t going to kill the bastards then it seems a good use of the machine, and I for one am glad that we have it. If nothing else, when they are cockles eunuchs they won’t be getting sucked anymore.”

With that he burst out laughing, and I found myself laughing too, although my mind was racing with the prospect of what was supposed to take place. I looked back to the guillotine then, and I could see he must be right. It looked like the lunette, I think it’s called, had been modified to hold a man’s genitals instead of his neck. Where I would have expected to see a board split in half to hold a head in place for the drop, instead it had been modified. The board appeared to have three parts to it, instead of the normal two, all lined in copper. The three parts came together in such a way that there were two small holes when they were closed instead of the usual one large one. If you pulled the boards apart you opened the holes. When you clamped them closed, you trapped whatever had been put through them for the blade to take.

As I looked at them I could visualize a man, standing against the machine, and it was clear that the holes would line up even with his genitals. I could visualize them shoved through the holes and secured by the clamping of the lunette. I also noticed that there was no table, or bascule, for the prisoner to lay on. Instead, they had moved a vertical beam and mounted it on some kind of metal rail, so that a man could be secured to the post and then slid forward, until he was against the lunette and his cock and balls were secured in place to wait for the drop of the blade.

There was a ring mounted high on the square beam as well as some leather cuffs located near the bottom to hold a man. Looking at it, it looked like it would be a simple matter to secure a prisoner into position and once there, not much he could do but wait for the blade to fall and his unmanning to happen. The post itself was more than a simple square beam however. At about the point that lined up to where the two holes were, they had bolted some boards to its face, which made a part of the beam thicker at that point and wider too. I couldn’t figure out those boards. I could see that if a man was held upright he would feel the wooden planks behind his ass, but I couldn’t see any purpose for them to be there. It looked like four or five planks were bolted there, each board at least two inches thick. Sandwiched together, they stuck out almost a foot from the post.

As I was trying to figure out what they were for, I heard some commotion and looked up just in time to see three very scared Frenchmen, half-walking, half being dragged toward where the guillotine was waiting. It was immediately obvious they were the ones. I stared at them, trying to figure them out and as I watched them being dragged toward their fate I felt the familiar firmness in my pants. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the doomed man and the two boys. I don’t know what I was expecting to see. The two French boys out in front just seemed like normal teenage males to me... God they were young! They possessed those perfect adolescent bodies that every woman longs for. The one in front was the oldest, and even so he wasn’t very old. I figure seventeen or eighteen, tops, and maybe not even that. He had bright green eyes, and curly black hair that went to his neck. His cheeks were as smooth as a baby’s ass and he had only the slightest dusting of a mustache on his lip. There were two policemen escorting him, holding his arms and pulling him forward whenever he faltered. His hands were tied in front of him, and it appeared they had been bound with a long piece of rope. It ran around his waist and back to his hands, and it was obvious they were literally tied to his waist and were of no use to him. His eyes were wide with fear, and he kept looking at the crowd and the excited faces staring back at him. He was muttering “Non”.......”Non....o...NON!” as he came by, and I could tell he was fighting them harder and harder as he got closer to the machine.

The other boy was obviously younger, and if you didn’t know what had happened you would never have suspected he liked cocks. He looked to be fourteen or fifteen, and he had long black hair that grew down over his ears. His bangs bounced as he shuffled his feet. I studied him closely as he neared. The younger boy had sweat running down his face, and his smooth upper lip and sparkling eyes made him look more like a boy than a man. His baby-faced cheeks completed the look and seem to flush almost crimson the way it does on a young teenage male who has yet to test a razor. I could see him, and the fear in his eyes clearly, and as they brought him by me he was only a few feet away. The pants that he wore were tight, and seemed to accentuate his muscled rear, his buttocks sticking out even and his legs, strong and firm and full of the power of a youthful male. He too was tied tightly, with his hands held in front of him. I just couldn’t associate him with the crime. I thought it was almost a shame to unman him, as he was just so full of life and his budding sexuality just seemed to be exploding throughout his body. His rosy face had already lost the rounded cheeks, and his eyes were dark, with long lashes and the big pupils that all the women love. His lips were bright red and innocent, and it was hard to imagine him sucking his friend’s cock and drinking the other boy’s cream when he came. Still, it had happened. Perhaps he was a girl inside his mind and that’s why he grew his hair so long. I shuddered as I visualized the two teenage boys doing the unnatural. Yet, even so, as I gazed upon their strong bodies and their firm ass’s, for whatever reason I felt my own erection growing ever stiffer in my pants.

I turned my attention to the third one in the line. This gentleman was older and his slimness was gone with his youth. He was ugly and middle aged and his belly protruded out in front of him. I figured him to be in his forties, and it was hard to imagine him doing anything sexual with anyone anymore, especially young boys. The bald spot had more than started on his head, and there was some graying in his temples. Still, most of his hair remained. He needed a shave, and he had that puffy, round face of a man who has had the easy life. As I looked at him he was staring at the ground, with the look of shame he had brought upon himself. So, he liked the young boys! Well, as I thought of him and imagined his fat prick hard and stiff and eager as he played with them, I was glad he was here and anxious to see him be neutered.

I looked to the Frenchman next to me, and then I asked: “Who are they?”

He looked to me and answered: “The lad on the left; his name is Picard Marcel. I know his father. The boy comes from a good home, and his father is too humiliated to be here to watch. The boy just turned eighteen, and he is popular, and he has had more than one girlfriend according to his father. That makes what he did even more confusing. Nevertheless, he was caught red-handed and there is no doubt he is a faggot. At any rate, many of the teens in the crowd have come to see him and watch him lose his manhood. I hope they learn from it. The other lad is Tobias Anatole. He is fifteen years old, and he is a schoolmate of Picard. Its hard to think of him sucking the older boy but he was caught in the act and it definitely happened.. He doesn’t look old enough to even know what sex is. It’s a shame really, and if given enough time he might have eventually come around to girls. It doesn’t matter now; neither of them will ever get that chance and they will both be better off once their sex has been taken.”

He then continued: “Now, as for the older man, I heard that his name is Richard Louis, and he’s from the town of Lyon. I only know what I have read, but he was wanted there for a long time, and as the police looked for him he left a trail of fucked boys in his wake. He has a thing for the boys, and apparently he loves to fuck their asses as if they were women. He has a history of buying their rears with his favors, and to me he is the worst of the worst. The police finally caught up with him last month and he was brought here for his punishment. Personally, I think they should take his head instead of his balls!”

Before I could say anything things began to happen. There was a French policeman reading the decree, and while I had no idea what he was saying it seemed to stir up the crowd. The prisoners were scared, that much was obvious, and their eyes were wide as they listened to the talk. The crowd was giddy and excited. The contrast between the excited crowd and the doomed prisoners was stark and I’ll never forget it. The three were scared to the core, their faces white and their eyes wide with fear. As I looked at each of them I suddenly noticed the youngest of the three had pissed his pants. The stain had spread through his crotch, and he appeared to be shaking. The crowd was eager, excited, and anxious, and I was with them. Suddenly, the two boys were dragged to a post and the ropes were looped there restraining them and making sure they stayed around for their own turns on the guillotine. Then, the older man, Richard, the man who liked to fuck the boys, was being pulled towards the machine that would take his manhood.

He didn’t struggle. It was almost like he knew he deserved his punishment, or was at least resolved to it. As we all watched one of the guards took his shirt at the nape of his neck and jerked it hard, backward and downward, the cotton ripping as he did so. In seconds he was shirtless and his fat ugly belly was on display. Then they were untying his pants, and they too were coming off. It all took less than a minute, and then he was naked, his cock like a nub and his balls drawn up with fear. He had hair on his belly and his chest, and his fat thighs seem to accentuate his ugliness. I knew if I dwelled on the thoughts of him fucking the boys I would vomit. He wasn’t smiling, and he seemed to be embarrassed to be naked. The crowd laughed as they saw him and his tiny cock and that added to his humiliation and I was glad.

The rope that bound his wrists was tossed up through a ring at the top of the vertical beam designed to hold him, and then it was pulled so hard that it stretched his arms up and high over his head. His chest was hairy and his nipples were big, and the pits under his arms were covered with a thick, scraggy bush. I was so close I could see the wetness of his sweat that was running down his sides. As they shoved him standing against the post and began to secure his ankles and legs, I suddenly realized the purpose of the boards that were between his ass and the square post he was being tied to. They brought up a tie between his legs and around his thighs, and another one was placed around his waist. As they tightened the ties the boards under his ass forced his hips out, way out, almost jutting him out and toward the lunette with its two waiting holes. Soon, he was secured. Still, he said nothing but I could see his lower lip quivering and you could tell he was fighting to stay in control. One of the guards seemed to be holding a can of something, and as we watched I could see it was some kind of grease. One of the guards took a big blob of it, and then he just reached out and started to apply it to the man’s nob of a cock. As he grabbed it the fat man gasped. Slowly, the guard seemed to work it into the man’s prick....sliding his hand up and down his nub. I watched the guards hand on the fat man’s cock, and as he pumped it I could see the guard rotating his wrist, twisting the cock as he pumped it up and down. As he did so the nub began to betray its owner and started to grow and that’s when the man finally moved. Suddenly, he began to jerk against his bonds...perhaps trying to move in order to prevent his cock from responding. Regardless, his efforts were useless, and as his cock was being pumped it continue to grow as if it was wanting to get hard so it could be cut. The crowd was cheering as it was happening. His nub grew until it looked like a man’s cock should look, stiff and eager. Still, the guard seemed to want it harder, and he continued to work in the grease, faster than before, and as he did so the fat cock grew and then grew some more. It didn’t take that long for it to make its transition, and soon was as hard as a piece of steel, with a big bulging head that eased out of its hooded foreskin. By then the man had his eyes shut, perhaps trying to keep his cock from growing anymore and thereby facilitating its demise. Its possible he was just savoring the feeling and trying to enjoy it, but the scared look on his face made me think not. It didn’t matter....in only a few minutes he was hard and jutting, and it seemed at least his cock was eager for the blade even if he himself was not. The last thing I saw was a leather tie being placed around his nuts. They reached down and pulled on them, hard, until they had his stones in the bottom of his hairy sack and had tied a tie to keep them there. With that, it was obvious that he was ready and the crowd sensed it was time for it to be done.

Next, the guards pushed the beam he was tied to along the metal rail it was attached to and slid him toward the vertical supports of the machine. Another guard opened the lunette, and after they had him shoved up against it, they pulled his testicles through the hole that had been made for that purpose. They stretched them out, and the man grunted as it was done. Then, they lowered the middle piece of wood and clamped it in place, trapping his ball sac in the process. Through the second slit they laid his stiff cock, and then they lowered the rest of the lunette and clamped it in place as well. From where I was standing I could see the man’s prick, jutting out of the board, and under it, his exposed sac of balls, full and round and fat. Everything that made him a man was clamped in place there, and the way he was secured it gave him the appearance he was shoved forward, his hips jutting his genitals into the machine and looking eager for it to take them. God! He finally started to struggle even harder then....after he was secured....and you could see his desperation as he realized it was really going to happen and now he was powerless to stop it.

I looked at the two teenagers watching, and the look of horror on their faces was almost priceless. They were sure two scared boys! The crowd was crazy, and then, as we all watched, the man who had read the decree said a few more things. A slow drum roll started from somewhere, and then suddenly, another guard reached for the lever on the side and after that things happened so fast it is hard to describe them. The man yelled “NON!!!!!!!!!” as the blade was tripped, but even as he was screaming it out the blade had made its journey and passed through to the bottom.

“SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMMMMMM!!!!”

The entire machine rocked from the impact as the blade bottomed out. I was staring right at the man’s thick cock....the thing bulging and so fat and hard and jutting. His fat balls underneath were tight and full, and as I watched them suddenly they just dropped into the silvered bowl. It happened so fast it was hard to believe. One second they were stiff and hard and the balls were bulging, and the next everything was missing and they were resting in the bowl. In less than an instant where his cock had been there was only a hole, and within the hole there was suddenly a stream of blood that literally shot out under pressure. The man’s expression was one of just total surprise, his mouth agape and eyes wide. He looked down, down at the bowl, and as he did his eyes went wider as he saw his own quivering balls and his deflating cock, laying like pieces of butchered meat fresh from the slaughter. He screamed “NON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” again, and then he spasmed and jerked and twisted within his bonds with a desperation I cannot fully describe. As he realized what had happened he seemed beside himself, jerking and thrusting as if he still had a cock. The crowd went crazy and roared their approval. The guards then pulled his post back, and as they did I had a good view of him; of where his manhood had been. There was nothing there! No balls. None. The leather tie was there, and the skin that had once led to his balls was tied in a little single point of leather. Other than that, there was NOTHING! No scrotum, no balls, nothing but his skin between his legs! Where his cock had been there was only the tiniest bit of a stub, perhaps half an inch, perhaps less. It looked like a tiny piece of a hot dog, and was bright red and raw. They came at him with the hot poker then, from the fire, and used it to close the wound that was still flowing with blood. As they cauterized the wound he screamed a piercing, penetrating scream for the first time, a blood-curdling scream that was almost inhuman. I couldn’t believe it. One second he was a man, with a cock that was eager and ready, and the next he had been nullified, his entire sex gone in an instant and instead of a man only a screaming, sexless eunuch remained.

As they dragged him off I stared at the bowl, and I could see his entire scrotal sac was resting there, under the cock that was no longer connected to it. Even though it had no owner, the cock was twitching and the balls were quivering, almost like they were looking for another ass to fuck. I was close enough to notice the very end of his cock appeared to have a single drop of clear fluid oozing out its hole. I figured the rest of the fluid was forever trapped in the balls it was resting on. It reminded me of the Texan, who had twitched at the end and had died with his boner. This man was alive, but his boner had died without him and his balls were in the bowl instead. It almost seemed funny, and I realized that I was smiling. Perhaps the Texan was the luckier of the two.

The blade was then hoisted back up to the top of the machine, and once it was there the lever on the side was reset and it was again, ready, to unman the next prisoner. As they grabbed the youngest boy he started screaming, and his face was flowing with tears. “Si’l vous plait!” “Si’l vous plait!!!!” he cried. The crowd loved his begging, and seemed to feed on the youth’s desperation. They especially enjoyed his stained pants, and seemed to relish that he had pissed in fear. Having just watched the older man’s unmanning, Tobias Anatole was in no hurry to have it done to him. He fought the guards all the way, and when they ripped his clothes off his youthful body he seemed to go ballistic. His face was flushed in humiliation, and he struggled so hard and his desperation was so intense that every muscle in his body rippled.

He was a very handsome young man. His stomach was ripped, the horizontal lines across his muscles were in stark contrast to the fat belly of the previous prisoner. His patch of pubic hair was small and defined, and his chest was smooth and the hair under his arms was very thin and more of a wisp than anything else. His cheeks were even redder and more blushed than they were before, and his eyes were so wide with fear that it almost made you want to laugh. His face was as smooth as a woman’s. His balls were much smaller than the man’s had been, more defined too and hanging down, loose in their little hairless sac. His cock was already stiff and eager. The teenager had a thin cock, but long enough, and while it wasn’t as impressive as the man’s had been at the end, it was already hard and ready and apparently eager for its own amputation to begin.

When they finally got the rope up, over the ring on the post he was to be tied to, he was begging like a child who is trying to get out of something. By the time they had hoisted his arms above his head he was crying like a little boy with the tears flowing from his eyes like a river. He was still struggling as they secured his ankles and ran the leather ties up between his legs and around his thighs. The boards behind his ass jutted the teenager’s hips forward, at the machine and where the holes were waiting for his genitals. Things went quickly after that. They tied the leather around his dangling teenage balls, trapping and keeping them together. I realized this time that by tying his balls they trapped them in his sac and brought them together and made them like one. In doing so, it prevented his balls from slipping back out through the hole in the lunette once it was clamped closed.

Just when I thought they were done one of the guards took the can of grease, and as I watched he began to work it into thy boy’s already stiff and eager prick. The young boy went crazy as he was touched, and then, as the guard slipped his fist up and down the boy’s thin shaft in only a few seconds the kid grunted and the essence of his manhood began to shoot out of his dick with a vengeance. The guard was surprised, and pulled his hand away, but it was too late to stop what had started. As I watched, the boy’s untouched dick jumped up and down and shot his last teenage load into the air. The crowd went wild as the youth ejaculated. After that, the guards were in a hurry then, not wanting to lose the lad’s erection, and so rolled the beam onto which he had been tied toward the workings of the machine, even as his dick was still finishing its pulsations. I couldn’t see them as one of the guards blocked my view, but soon enough the boy’s thin dick was sticking out its hole and his balls were bulging, stuffed and looking like a sac of plums sitting against the board that contained the hole they had been pulled through.

The youth never stopped struggling and his tears continued without abandon. His teenage cock was as stiff and hard as any cock I’ve ever seen, before or sense. It was jutting out of its hole at a 45 degree angle, and a long thin line of his spent semen was still drooling out of his tip. His balls had gone red and were round and full and just waiting to be taken. Again, the words were said and then the drum roll started. With the sounds from the drums he panicked and then started screaming.....like a madman. He was staring out in front of him and then suddenly he was bending his neck, straining it so far forward as he tried to get a final look at his cock and balls. I feared for a moment he might lose his head! One of the guards behind him must have been worried too as he reached out and grabbed the boys head, pulling it back against the post and out of the path of the blade. The boy arched his back then, as the guard held his head backward, straining, and struggling like there was no tomorrow. In doing so he jutted his genitals even more forward, into the machine and towards the crowd. It was at that instant, when he was arching his back, and literally pushing his cock toward the blade, that the lever was tripped and the blade made its speedy journey to unman him.

“SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMMMMMM!!!!”

The entire machine rocked again as the big blade slammed to a stop, and as it did so the youth’s scream changed in intensity. His scream was wild and desperate, and so shrill it sounded like a woman. He screamed and screamed, thrusting his cock-less hips in and out. It was a useless gesture. His cock was already gone and missing, and the blood was shooting out in its place. They released the hold on his head then and slid the beam back he was tied to. I was really shocked at the contrast and the change.....the boy’s smooth body accentuated what had been done to him. There was nothing there...no cock, not even a stub of one. No balls either....NOTHING! NOTHING AT ALL!!!! Even most of his pubes had somehow been taken by the blade as it had made its pass so close it had shaved him. He was totally neutered, and in fact with his long hair if at that moment he had sprouted tits he would have passed for a woman. The boy looked down at himself, and his nothingness, and as he did so he feinted.

They dragged him down too then, and again the hot iron was pushed against where his cock had been and the hole was burned until the bleeding stopped. He started to open his eyes but then they rolled back in his head and he feinted again. In the bowl now there was another set of balls and the boy’s thin cock on top. It was funny, but unlike the fatter cock below, still shriveling to nothing, the boy’s teenage cock somehow remained stiff and eager and oh-so-ready, ready for a fuck perhaps that it would never get. The tip of the boy’s dick glistened, still wet from the last of his cream.

The last prisoner had watched everything, and now he was mad with fear. He was struggling against his ropes and fighting like a lunatic. He kept looking at the silver bowl, and the genitals it contained, and it was obvious that he would do anything and say anything; anything at all to keep from depositing his manhood there as well. I wished I could understand what he was saying. Of course, not knowing French I couldn’t understand him, but he was yelling something about liking women and he was begging for mercy with abandon. God he struggled so hard! Obviously, he had no intention of letting them get him anywhere near that machine, and he was certainly begging with earnest and his eyes were wide and innocent. Much of what he said I think was more of a babble really, as he was so scared and was talking so fast that I don’t even think the French could understand him.

His struggles made no difference. As they ripped off his clothes there was a group of teenagers watching and they burst into laughter. Obviously, they knew him and were glad to watch him and see this happen. Picard Marcel looked up at them then, the group of his schoolmates I assumed, and as he locked eyes with them his faced flushed red with embarrassment. One of the girls blew him a kiss, and his eyes were wide as he saw her and then he was begging for mercy, babbling out the words onto the deaf ears of the guards. He tried anyway, and then he was begging for mercy from the merciless crowd. Just as he was looking at his friends the guards finished removing his pants, and as the teenagers hard dick bounced free and up and eager his friends burst out laughing. To me he was the perfect model of an adolescent male. His dick was so hard it looked like he was ready to fuck, and the girls that were watching were giggling as it bounced. His chest was big, and powerful, and you could see the veins in his arms as he strained against the ropes that held him. He had small points for nipples, and his flat stomach was ripped and you could see him sucking in his breath, panting for air as he fought with all his strength. There was a line of black hair running from his navel down to his cock....which at this moment was jutting up from his pubic hair eager and ready like a tree juts out of the grass.

The guards soon had him tied in place, against the vertical beam, the boy’s legs spread slightly and the leather throngs coming up between them and tying down his thighs into position. Another rope went around his slim waist and held him tight to the beam. The boards behind his ass forced his hips out, like the others, and his huge cock was jutting out so stiff and eager that one could not help but watch it. His foreskin was retracted and the end of his dick was exposed and purple, and seemed to grow fatter as if it was a plum. If I hadn’t know better, it almost seemed as if he was eager to lose it.

This boy was fighting harder than the others. His desperation was intense, and he was thrusting the air, to the extent his bonds would allow, moving as much as possible and struggling to get loose from the pole. What really surprised me was the size of his sac. His balls were huge! I mean, they were so full and so large and as he struggled they bounced and jiggled, seeming to stretch out his scrotum as they hung from their weight. When the guards tied his scrotum closed with the leather he grunted, then began to scream “no, please!” as if the world was ending: “NON!!!! O’....NON! NON!!!!!! Si’l vous PLAIT!!!! SI’L VOUS PLAIT!!!!!!”

This time the guards added a head strap, pulling the teenager’s head back and tying it to the beam to keep it safely in place. As they secured his head it seemed to intensify his desperation, and then, when they pushed him forward and toward the blade he screamed with a new level of fear and intensity. I saw one of the guards pick up the can of grease, but another one stopped him and they put it down unused. I assumed they didn’t want him ejaculating like the last teenager, as they needed him fully erect to insure his unmanning would go well. It seemed almost cruel to make a young man get this hard and stiff just so you could take his cock and leave him frustrated. Anyway, it didn’t take them long to open the lunette and insert the lad’s big sack and stiff, jutting penis. He was still screaming “NON...O’ NON!!!! NON!!!!!!!!” as they did it. Then, secured in place, he started jerking so hard that the entire machine rocked.

I was close enough to notice his prick as he shoved it deep into the machine, forcing it into the hole in the lunette so deep that it almost seemed he was fucking it. He tried to pull it back, to pull his cock out and in so doing save it, but the reality was the boards against his ass kept his back arched and prevented him from moving much, if any. Still, his cock moved slightly, and then he was suddenly shoving it in again....deeper and deeper, his thrusts desperate and wild. The drum roll started, and his eyes went wide when he heard that and then his thrusting motion he was making became rapid and even more desperate. He was just jerking wildly then, struggling and fighting and obviously desperate to somehow save something. The huge and very full sac of his balls seemed to pulsate. As he pushed into the machine it bulged outward and appeared larger as more of his scrotum became visible. Then, as he tried to withdraw and pulled inward on his ballsac it would expand from the pressure against the hole and the trapped balls themselves became pronounced against the tight skin. He couldn’t do much of anything. Still, he just kept moving, back and forth, in and out, desperate to do SOMETHING perhaps to save his cock and balls. The guard, his hand on the lever, seemed to savor the moment. It went on for almost a minute. The teenager was desperate, and his balls seemed to pulsate within his bulging sac and his cock head literally bounced to his heartbeat.

Suddenly, Picard Marcel’s mouth flew open and his eyes glassed over, and then as he grunted in front of his friends his dick began to spasm. He thrusted forward in that very instant, one last time, his hips pushing himself and his prick deep into the machine, as deep as it could go as he felt his balls exploding with his release. It was at that very instant, as the teenage boy made the instinctual final push they always do, that things were suddenly put into motion. The lad pushed deep, almost as if he had to, desperate perhaps to fertilize the guillotine itself. Just when he did that and everything was coming together and his cock was in as far as it could go, the guard tripped the lever and the blade made its almost instant journey. At that precise second the boy’s first rope of jism flew from his dick, arcing out toward the crowd and with an intensity and a velocity that is hard to describe. His first spurt was a thick, solid rope of cum, and it flew from his dick so violently that the very act seemed to consume the boy. As he shot that first wad the blade passed through it, at the base of his dick, and took his manhood in the process.

Suddenly, as I watched, his dick stopped spurting, and then, almost in slow motion it seemed, it just dropped away and into the waiting bowl below. The teenager’s balls went with it, the entire sac no longer his, and in that instant everything that made him a man was suddenly missing. I stared at the hole that had replaced his cock, and from it the boy’s jism continued to spurt like a fountain. He seemed to shoot and shoot, the ropes of semen flying out of that gaping hole, mixing with his red blood and the entire mess shooting out from where he was tied and splashing, almost spraying out as he shot.

The crowd went wild, and the applause started and grew as the boy spasmed and struggled and ejaculated that last of his seed. Suddenly, without warning I felt it myself, and then as I looked down I too was cumming; my own juices shooting into my pants with a vengeance that I can hardly describe. I tried to contain myself, but the orgasm shook me, and as I grunted I could feel myself literally flooding into my pants with the boy. I couldn’t have stopped it for anything in the world. I reached down, quickly, trying to stop it anyway, but all I could really do was cover that place on my pants and feel the fluid shooting into it. I looked up then, and as I did the Frenchman next to me was staring at me, staring at me as I shot my wad. He looked shocked and angry. My face flushed red, bright red, and as I listened to the crowd thundering with excitement, I felt totally consumed by the experience of what I was doing.

Suddenly the Frenchman was pointing at me and yelling, and as he did people looked and some began to point as well. Just before I turned and ran, I glanced at the silvered bowl, which was full to the top with the severed manhood of the three eunuchs. The last boy’s balls seemed to have finished filling the bowl, and they were still quivering in their sac and pulsating almost as if they were alive. The teenager’s detached prick was hard; rock hard and from the big purple head of his twitching dick the remains of the boy’s first shot of jism could still be seen oozing from its tip. It is a memory so intense I can never forget it.

Suddenly, I heard someone in English yelling “Faggot”.....”He’s a faggot!!!!!” and that’s when I ran, like a deer runs when he’s hunted. I ran from it all; from the crowd and the accusers and the neutered boys. I ran from the silver bowl and the slicing blade, from the severed cocks and pulsating scrotums and the floods of semen shooting from the depths of youth. I ran as if my life depended on it. As I ran I felt my prick still stiff in my pants and the sensitive head of my dick continued to spasm as it rubbed on the fabric. I looked over my shoulder then, back at the crowd, and it was then that I saw they were chasing me. I ran like the wind then. I ran from the boys, and from the balls, and from the dreams. And most of all, I ran from the guillotine.

[Authors note: © Copyright May, 2002. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. All comments are appreciated, more than you can know. Nathan9001@yahoo.com]