Urinal

By: Darkeagle (eunuch@bmeworld.com)

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[GAY] [PENECTOMY] [TESTICLES] [NULLIFICATION] Amputation


A young man is turned into a human urinal by his master

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My name is Pisshole.  I am a human urinal.  My body modifications 
are now complete and I exist only to serve my Masters.  I am 
immobile and spend most of my time in complete darkness.  I cannot 
eat or drink normally.  Hours pass as I wait in the dark to serve 
and I think about how all this came about…

I used to be a man called Stephen Davies.  I was quite handsome in 
a homely way, my best features being my piercing blue eyes and long 
dark blond hair.  Since my time at college I went to the gym 
regularly to work out and built up quite a nice body over the 
years.  I was never overly muscular, but looked fit and athletic 
enough to turn a few heads in the bars, clubs and baths.  I have 
always known that I was gay, right from an early age, and, like 
most young gay men, enjoyed a lot of  sex in my teens and early 
twenties.  I dabbled in the leather scene and got to enjoy playing 
the slave, but as time went by I realised that I needed to 
experience something more extreme than most masters could supply. 

Playing around on my computer got me interested in the Internet and 
I began checking out some of the more unusual specialist sites.  
One day not long after my twenty-fourth birthday I saw the 
following personal ad:

Handsome black Master looking for 24/7 white slave [18-30].  Life-
long commitment wanted and expected.  You must be interested in 
extreme bod mods including amputations.

I read the advertisement several times and thought about it a lot 
over the next few days.  I had always been into black guys and was 
entranced by the idea of body modification.  So far all I had was 
my left ear pierced and a small tattoo on my shoulder, but I wanted 
to go much further.  About three days later I responded to the ad 
with a long letter and sent a few pictures of me to go with it.  I 
received an email back within a few hours…

So began a cyber-relationship that lasted for almost three months.  
It was obvious that our interests were mutually compatible and we 
spent long hours eagerly swapping plans.  Each of these sexy 
exchanges excited me and fed my masturbation fantasies for days 
afterwards.   Eventually we both found the courage to swap 
telephone numbers.   The phone-sex period was short-lived, but very 
intense and made each of us trusting and comfortable enough with 
the other to arrange a face to face meeting.

We first met in the flesh in a gay bar in the city centre.   I had 
seen three photographs of  Earle by now, but nothing prepared me 
for the power and magnetism of his personality.  With a height of 
six and a half feet Earle was several inches taller than me and I 
found myself looking up into his dark brown eyes with adoration 
within a few minutes.   In his late-twenties, Earle was a few years 
older than me, but still in fantastic shape.  I immediately fell in 
love with his muscular body, ebony skin,  handsome African features 
and dazzling white teeth.  Better news still was that he was a 
fully-qualified surgeon.

Events moved quickly after that.  I visited his house several times 
and we made love and discussed our plans long into the night.  What 
Earle and I both wanted was total commitment and we soon discovered 
that we had found that in each other.   After another few weeks had 
passed we began to turn fantasy into reality.

My first task was to wind up my former life.  With Earle I would be 
entering a new existence from which I could not return.  An only 
child, I was estranged from my religious parents due to my 
sexuality.  I had lost contact with most of my college friends, so 
I wasn’t going to be missed by many people.  I resigned my job in 
the city planning office and put my house and car up for sale.  I 
got one of those house-clearance firms to buy my furniture and 
closed down all my bank accounts.  

So it was on one day in early Spring I arrived by taxi cab at 
Earle’s house with nothing to my name but the clothes I was 
wearing.  The large amount of money raised by the sale of my 
property had already been paid into Earle’s bank account. 
‘Welcome to your new life as my slave,’ Earle said, smiling as he 
greeted me.  ‘It is time for you to sign your contract.’
Earle led me into his study and handed me the long document we 
written together during my previous visits.  I signed it without 
hesitation and so did he. 
I then removed my clothes, knelt down on the floor and kissed my 
black Master’s feet.  

Phase one of our plan was the total removal of my body hair.  
Master sat me in a chair and used scissors to cut off my long blond 
hair.  I felt aroused as I watched the thick tresses falling away 
onto the floor.  It took only a few minutes until my hair was only 
an inch or so long.  Master then got out electric clippers and 
buzzed my head hair down to a short fuzz.  He continued by running 
the machine over my eyebrows and genitals as well as my body.  I 
stepped into the shower and lathered my entire body with shaving 
foam.  Master used several sharp razors to clean away the stubble 
from my body leaving me completely smooth and clean.  He then led 
me over to the bath and told me to get in and submerge myself 
completely.  The bath was full of warm milky-white water and really 
stung my shaved skin as it flowed over me.  These baths were 
repeated every day for a week until the chemical in the water had 
destroyed all my hair folicles, ensuring that I could never grow 
hair again for the rest of my life.  

Phase two involved several visits to a tattooist’s.  My tattoos 
were the only modification Master could not carry out himself at 
home, so it was important to get them done early in the process.  
The tattooist’s needle buzzed for hours and covered my shoulders, 
chest, back, buttocks and thighs with swirling black tribal 
designs.  Master held my hand during my transformation and assisted 
the tattooist to wipe away the blood.  During our final visit the 
tattoo pattern was extended to my face and neck, leaving only my 
arms, legs, forehead and two circles on my chest and right buttock 
clear of the inked designs.   Master asked the tattooist to 
complete the final tattoo.  
‘Are you sure you want this?’  The artist asked me.
I nodded and smiled to encourage him.  ‘I’m sure.’
When Master and I left the studio an hour later I had the word 
‘PISSHOLE’ written across my forehead in letters an inch high.

Back at the house Master heated up the branding iron and gave me a 
piece of wood to bite on.  My teeth sank deep into the wood as the 
red-hot iron touched the untattooed circles on my chest and 
buttock, burning Master’s initials, E J, into my skin permanently.  
I was now marked forever as Pisshole, slave to E J -  Earle 
Johnson.  My last modification that day were the piercings.  Master 
used professional piercing tools bore holes through my earlobes, 
septum, nipples and navels.  Small gold rings were fitted in these 
for the time being, but they would later be replaced with thick 
rings of solid steel.

It took me a full month to heal from the brands, tattoos and 
piercings and Master wanted to make sure that I was strong and 
healthy enough to endure stage three of the plan.  I looked forward 
to the surgery throughout those days and was very aroused when at 
last the great day came.  My dick grew rock hard as Master laid me 
on my back on the operating table in the surgery at his house and 
hitched my legs into the stirrups.  He gave me a sedative to make 
me a little drowsy and injected my penis and testicles to numb them 
completely.  Master then cleaned his hands and the area of my 
genitals thoroughly with antiseptic.  A thin catheter tube was fed 
down my softening penis right up into my bladder.  Master took up a 
scalpel and carefully began removing my penis as close to the base 
as he could.  He tied up each blood vessel as he went and 
eventually sliced away the last part of my cock-flesh.  I looked 
down with awe as Master gently slid my now useless penis up over 
the catheter tube and placed it in a kidney bowl.  Master then used 
a fresh scalpel to open up my scrotum and expose the white 
testicles inside.  I watched as my left ball was carefully removed 
from the sac, Master tying off the tubes that fed it before slicing 
through them.  The procedure was repeated with my right testicle, 
which joined my dick and other ball in the kidney bowl.  Master cut 
away my now empty scrotum and sewed up the wound as neatly as he 
could.

Master did such a good job that within a few days the empty space 
where my genitals had been was marked by only a small vertical 
scar.  Master removed the stitches after a fortnight and slid out 
the catheter tube.  The first time I pissed Master watched 
carefully and smiled to see how the pee now ran out of the tiny 
hole where my cock had once been.   I knelt and kissed Master’s 
feet, glorying in being this strong black man’s eunuch slave.  
Master’s cock got hard and he gave me permission to suck on it 
until his thick sperm filled my mouth.

The next modification was performed later that day.   Master sat me 
in a chair and injected novocaine into my gums.  Using a scalpel 
and pliers, he began the slow task of removing all of my teeth, 
both top and bottom.  The procedure took a long time and despite 
the anaesthetic I could feel and hear the crunching and tearing as 
my teeth were torn out of my mouth.  Tears ran down my face, but I 
never tried to shut my jaws or prevent what my Master was doing to 
me.  It was all part of the plan.

The final stages of my transformation had to be performed with me 
under general anaesthetic.  Master got Ono, an African friend who 
was a qualified anaesthetist to assist him.  Master had decided 
that the rest of my modifications would be performed at the same 
time, so I knew as I lost consciousness that when I awoke my 
changes would be complete.

I awoke lying on my back in a bright and sunny room, my head 
resting on a comfortable pillow.  I opened my mouth to speak and 
found that I could not.
Master sat beside the bed and stroked my face.
‘You can’t speak, so don’t try.  Just rest.  The operations were a 
complete success and you will soon be able to start your duties as 
we planned.’  Master smiled.  ‘You want that don’t you?’
I nodded.
‘Your arms have been amputated at the shoulders, your legs high up 
your thighs.  My friend Ono and I burnt your limbs in the furnace 
last night.’
I nodded.
Master smiled, revealing his twinkling gold crown.  ‘As planned I 
then removed your voicebox and tongue.  Ono then suggested a 
further modification to fill out your face a little.  He thought 
your lack of teeth was making you look older than you should.   I 
decided he was right so I went ahead and injected some collagen 
into your cheeks and lips.  Your mouth is now a lovely soft tube 
perfectly shaped to take my dick.  It will make things much more 
comfortable for me when I use you.’
I nodded.

It took over a month for me to heal from the operations.  Master 
used that time to make the planned alterations to the bathroom and 
to increase the size of the steel rings through my ears, nose, tits 
and navel.  

At last the great day came when I was to begin my duties.  Ono 
drove over to assist my Master with the final arrangements.  First 
they sat me upright and fitted my special slave collar.  The collar 
is of thick heavy-duty steel with a leather pad running around the 
top to prevent my skin from being rubbed raw.  Master soldered it 
in place around my neck so it can never be removed.  The words 
‘Property of Earle Johnson’ are engraved into the shining metal.  
Three six-inch metal rods stick out of the back and sides of the 
collar.  The collar is constructed so that it is wider at the front 
than at the back which forces my head up and backwards slightly. 

The two black men then carried me into the bathroom next to 
Master’s bedroom.  This was going to be my final home and I felt 
happy and excited as my body was set down carefully into the 
special base my Master had designed close to the floor.  My thigh 
stumps fitted comfortably into the leather-padded rings.  My 
buttocks rested against leather pads attached to the tiled wall.  A 
metal ring also attached to the wall encircled my waist and was 
snapped shut and padlocked by Ono.  The bars sticking out from my 
collar were screwed to a bracket higher up so that I was fixed 
firmly in place against the wall, my head at crotch height.  Across 
the room from me were Master’s bath, wash basin and shower.  Next 
to me was another toilet for Master to take a shit when he needed 
to.

Master and his friend stood back to look at their handiwork once I 
was fitted to the wall.
‘You say he really wanted this?’ Ono asked.
Master nodded.  ‘Yes, but don’t call it ‘he’.  The plan was that 
pisshole here would become just a thing owned by me.  More than 
that, it would be the lowest kind of property I could have - a 
urinal.  That’s all it is now – a black man’s toilet.  It isn’t a 
man anymore; it has no cock, it can’t move or talk.  It’s just a 
thing for us to use.’
‘You going to try it out?’
‘Of course,’ Master replied.
Master then unzipped his fly and got out his beautiful large cock.  
Approaching me Master pushed the head of his cock between my puffed 
out lips and into the soft tube that was once my mouth.  I was 
totally helpless and immobile as I felt a spray of piss hit the 
back of my throat and begin to run down my gullet.  I swallowed and 
gulped it all down quickly.  Master’s flow subsided and he gave his 
cock a shake or two then withdrew it from inside me and wiped a few 
remaining drops of urine over my lips.  
‘Mind if I use your toilet?’  Ono asked.
‘Go ahead man,’ Master replied.
As Ono stuck his cock between my lips and began to piss in me I 
felt like I wanted to take a piss myself.  I allow a stream of 
urine to fall from the hole between my legs where it flows into the 
sluice hole in the floor below me.

It is now three years on.  I perch in the darkness and wait for my 
Masters to wake up.  Master Ono lives with us now and I wonder 
which Master will use me first this morning.  Suddenly the light 
clicks on and, blinded,  I shut my eyes for a second.  Masters’ new 
white slave has entered the room and is setting out freshly warmed 
towels to dry Masters’ bodies with after they have taken their 
showers.  This slave will soon be Master Ono’s own toilet after a 
few weeks; he already has his tattoos and piercings and no longer 
possesses genitals or teeth.  Once his limbs are amputated he will 
take his rightful place beside me.
Master Earle comes in naked and pushes his thick black cock between 
my lips.  He and Master Ono have had sex and I can taste the dried 
cum still sticking to his dick.  The warm piss fills my mouth and I 
swallow.  Swallowing is all I can do now.  I am at peace and 
content to be a human pisshole.
 
 

 


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