I know it’s a different life, and you, as an outsider, cannot possibly understand it; but on Fury Island we live in a very religious, convent-like atmosphere, where things are secure, and for the most part happy. Being a religious sect we are left alone and the government does not attempt to interfere with what we do or how we do it. Life on the island is simple, and we are quiet people who live without many of the modern things that make your life complicated.

I was born here, and grew up here. As a boy I enjoyed the life and both for my friends and me it was really a pretty idyllic lifestyle. Looking back on those times most of the memories are good ones, and even now, I still like this place and do not blame the village for what happened to me. That too you probably cannot understand, but we make our own mistakes and I am not one of those who would blame others for the consequences that follow. So the shame I still feel is a burden I have learned to bear and as I work the church gardens and tend to the plants I concentrate on the good things and work to control those things that I can.

As a kid, I was tall and thin, a somewhat lanky sort of guy, with a swimmer’s body and short, dark brown hair that matched my deep brown eyes. My mom always said I was a girl-magnet and, as a schoolboy, I sure attracted the smiles and I was always pretty popular.

My best friend in all the world was Thomas Zinwas, and he and I did everything together. Thomas had a big smile, and a perfect adolescent body which came from hours of hard work helping his father tend the fields. His stomach was flat, and ripped with horizontal lines, and his entire body was hard with muscle. He too had lots of girls interested in him, but he ignored them for the most part and instead chose to spend most of his spare time with me. Whenever possible, we would hang out, fishing for trout or skinny-dipping by the trestle bridge when nobody was around. We also played on the same soccer team, and while he was better than I was, I held my own and we were both good players.

Life on the island isn’t totally backwards, but to an outsider it might appear that way. Still, it has worked for us. Crime is rare, and in our island homes there is no need to lock your doors or worry about trying to protect what you own. Still, humans make mistakes, and at times the council of elders will render a punishment to teach a lesson. Boys can be whipped, and growing up I had my own ass smacked with the rod on more than one occasion. Six of the best is a common punishment for boys, and I’ve had my ass striped enough times in my younger years that I know well the sting of the rod. In school, getting popped on your pants with a paddle happens to someone every day, and if you don’t do your homework, or dare to talk back to a teacher, then your bottom will soon be on fire so you don’t tend to make those mistakes very often.

The rod is not spared at home either, and while corporal punishment might seem very old-fashioned it keeps everyone in line and most teenagers are very well behaved. For older boys and young men, the strap is the implement of choice, and while I’ve never felt that I’ve been told that nothing on this earth will burn like a leather strap worked over a bare ass. All in all, I think the island methods work for the most part. Generally, we all behave ourselves but on occasion someone does something serious, and when that happens there are greater penalties to be paid. Island justice is fair, but it can be severe, depending on the nature of the offense and the example that needs to be made.

I was fourteen years old when I saw my first castration, but I was aware of others who were unmanned long before I saw it done. The first one I actually witnessed was of a man in his forties, a neighbor by the name of Henry Kaker. Kaker had defiled his wife, and his adulterous behavior cost him his balls. My father made me attend his trial and there wasn’t any doubt of his guilt; in the end the council found him guilty as charged which was the clear and correct decision. I do not see how it could have gone any other way. His trial ended on a Friday afternoon and, as soon as his guilt was determined the church bell was rung, and all the men, and the older boys like me, were assembled in the church basement to watch it be done. As is usually the case, once convicted, his balls were taken within the hour.

They brought him in wearing only his underwear, just his white jockey shorts, but otherwise naked. He was scared, and his eyes darted as he stared at us, looking around like a trapped animal as they dragged him into the center of the room. An old oak barrel had been rolled to the center of the room, and they laid him over it sideways, on his back, and lashed his two ankles to two big pegs they had hammered into the wooden floor. His arms were secured to two other pegs, so that he was trussed out, his groin pushed upward over the barrel, the man’s offending genitals jutting upward in his underpants with only a thin cotton fabric layer making them invisible. His package jutted there, just waiting for justice to be done.

The chief elder read the details of his crime, and the council’s findings, and then they gave him exactly two minutes to speak before the sentence was carried out. He started to beg, saying he still loved his wife, and wanted another chance and, as his time expired he grew more and more desperate and the panic seemed to rise within him. After about ninety seconds or so he started to look around at all his friends and neighbors and then he started to babble, sounding more like a scared little boy than a man who had been caught cheating on his wife. He was still talking when his two minutes ended, and would have talked for a lot longer if they had allowed it. But, alas, they did not. Instead, they stuffed a rag into his mouth and secured it in place with a chord they tied around the back of his head. Even so, he tried to talk, but after they stuffed that rag in his mouth all he could really do was mumble. Then the Chief Elder read the confirmation statement from Pastor Grant that reconfirmed that castration had been approved as the appropriate sentence, and once that was announced, Robert Tasker came forward then and pulled down the man’s underwear, revealing his big scrotum and the man’s cock. It was a big dick, at least to my then fourteen-year-old boy’s perspective, and his balls were bigger than I had ever seen before. I remember that moment even now, the size of his package and how I could not take my eyes away from it.

As soon as Kaker was naked, Chief Leckot rapped his gavel to make the room grow silent and, then, looking right at the trussed-out man, he announced to him that his days of being one of God’s semen-carriers were over, and that after his sentence was carried out he would no longer be a man. To make that point, I think, he then ordered that his seed be milked from within him so he would have no sperm remaining after his balls had been removed.

After he said that, Mr Tasker didn’t hesitate: he just grabbed Kaker’s penis and began to pump it, working it up and down. I had never seen that before and, as I watched in fascination, my own teenage rod went rock-hard. His pole quickly grew rigid, and thick, and soon it was jutting and after that it was an even more impressive sight. I had never seen another male with an erection, much less one being masturbated, and though I had had my share of juvenile boners I had never ever masturbated my own pole. (After watching it being done, however, I did try it later that very same night, and shot my own load of cream for the first time in my life. So in some ways, I learned a lot as I watched the wife-cheater being milked of his last and final wad of living sperm.

As it turned out, it took about five minutes or so. Finally, as we all watched, his eyes went wide, and then he grunted, and then a few seconds after that his fat cock ejaculated, his white cream shooting out in ropes of cum that lay in lines down his chest, running down from his stomach. Since his head was near the floor, his jetted semen ran down his body, towards his head, and I remember being surprised at how much there was, and I can still remember watching it spurting from his fat dick.

As soon as Mr. Tasker finished and the man’s nuts were empty, the chief elder called for the knife, and I stared as he walked up to between Henry Kaker’s legs and grabbed his fat scrotum. Boy, Mr. Kaker struggled then! He jerked with every muscle, straining against the ropes that held him wide, and he bounced on the barrel and jerked his hips, literally shaking as he tried to pull his legs together in a useless attempt to try and keep the bag between his legs away from the knife that was about to open it. Of course, it occurred to me that his balls were really the root of his problem and, from my perspective at the time, I figured he would be better off without them.

There was no hesitation in the proceedings. It was a simple matter: the man had cheated, been found guilty, and had been sentenced to be castrated, and so it was done. It was that simple, and almost that quick. When the chief elder pushed that knife into his sack of balls, boy, that man grunted then, and he tossed his head back and I saw him thrust his groin upward. As the pain hit him, he started screaming into the rag as the knife was doing its work, and he sure jerked and thrashed like a wild animal caught in a trap.

After the knife was pushed into his scrotum, I saw the chief elder twist the knife, and the big man shuddered as he felt the knife going for his balls and I, along with most of my friends, laughed at his reaction. He sure didn’t like losing his balls! Still, it just seemed so right (at least from a boy’s perspective) and I remember thinking that if the man were unfaithful to his wife then he didn’t deserve his balls, and I for one was glad to see them being taken. One at a time, his nuts were fished out from his bag, and then snipped off with a flick of the knife while we all stared and watched it being done. As each ball was dug out of his bag he jerked and pulled with every muscle he had, and he never stopped screaming into his gag while he was being castrated. His eyes were so wide, and it was very obvious that he sure didn’t like feeling himself being nutted. When the second ball was removed we all laughed even louder, and general applause followed which made it obvious that everyone was pleased that he had been unmanned.

After his balls were removed they sat them on top of his belly, and then a series of pictures were taken of the new eunuch, staring at his excised nuts and looking at them with a longing that was readily apparent. I had no sympathy for him, and it somehow seemed appropriate that his nuts were no longer his. The pictures were added to the punishment book, which is kept in the main hall, and serves as a permanent record to remind anyone that there are consequences for our human transgressions. Of course, the book also made sure that no one could forget what had been done to him.

That, then, was the first time. Over the following years I used to enjoy it greatly when someone misbehaved to the point that they ended up nutted and I got to watch it being done. Of course, that was extremely rare, but men are men, and if they cannot control their urges then justice can be swift for them and there is usually no sympathy from anyone in our village when it is done.

Now, I don’t want to give the impression that castrations are common, because they are not. And when the sinner is not yet eighteen they punish him in other ways, even for sexual offenses. When Gary McDonald got his girlfriend pregnant at seventeen, he got the strap, and they whipped his naked bottom until it was raw. I still remember that: when they were done his entire bottom looked like raw hamburger; but they didn’t take his balls.

After eighteen, however, it is another matter. For instance, when Billy Miller got his girlfriend pregnant, they pulled him into the same room in the church basement and nutted him, and it was a lesson not lost on anyone. He was still a senior in high school, but he was eighteen and a half, and there was no sympathy for him. Billy was a good friend of mine too, with bright red hair and a thin swimmer’s body, and he had a long tapered dick. It’s funny, but it sure was hard as they castrated him! Everyone knew he had a girlfriend in his senior year but, of course, none of us suspected he was fucking her; and, as it turned out, he clearly was. When she became pregnant, they had to make an example of him, and so it was done and he became a eunuch.

Boy he bucked and jerked and screamed as he lost his balls, and yet I knew it had to be done and so, I think, did he. After they cut out his balls and laid them on his belly, his cock shrank to nothing and it was very clear that his fucking days were over. That time I didn’t laugh, but still I’ll never forget his wilted cock, lying soft and useless next to his excised balls. He was staring at his gonads as they took pictures of him, and I’ll never forget his expression as he stared at his severed nuts and now lifeless cock and felt the pain as well as emptiness between his legs. A lot of people laughed at him, and there was a robust round of applause right after he was nutted.

I remember thinking about him and being glad it wasn’t I, and swearing that, no matter what, I’d never do anything to get myself in the same situation. Still, I understood the justice and, as a member of the island community, I respected our way of life and felt it was perfect. At least I did, until I turned eighteen. Yeah, just four days past my eighteenth birthday something happened that changed my outlook on where I lived and, suddenly, what I had enjoyed all of those years was no longer quite so enjoyable. Now, up until this time I had never done anything sexually, except for masturbating. I should add that even that practice is frowned upon on the island, and if you are caught in “self indulgence” (as they call it) the council of elders will generally order your bottom thrashed at a public whipping. I’ve seen a few friends over the years get thrashed for that, and it’s usually pretty embarrassing for them and we all get a laugh out of it afterwards. Still, the whipping’s not very severe, and the offender usually gets only a half dozen strokes of the cane on the bare bottom and then it’s over. But I’m not stupid, and I sure wasn’t about to get caught beating my pole, even though I did it virtually everyday.

However, I never considered having sex at all, because I knew, as everyone on Fury Island knows, that sex wasn’t allowed until you got married. After that, you were expected to crank out the kids, one after the other, and most of the families were large. In my own family, I was the eldest, with three brothers and a sister, and that was typical. As I grew up I was encouraged to date the girls, to start looking for a bride, and to be thinking of starting my own family after I graduated from high school. Once I turned eighteen, the pressure was even greater, and my father made it clear that my days of living at home were coming to an end.

Still, for me, fucking a girl was not something I really wanted to do. For one thing, whenever the idea started to cross my mind, I would think of Billy Miller, and how they all laughed at him as they cut out his balls, and so the idea of chasing the girls just didn’t seem that important. In all honesty, it helped that I had never had an interest for women, and yet at the time I think perhaps I had convinced myself that it was the fear of getting too involved they kept me from approaching them. Then, during a school trip in my senior year in high school something happened that I could never have seen coming.

Our school soccer team played exceedingly well, and it was decided that we would be allowed to attend the state-sanctioned tournament on the mainland. The school year by that point was all but over but, even so, allowing us to go off-island was an exceedingly rare decision, and to say it was an exciting adventure would be a gross understatement. Still, it happened, and so in my senior year I was involved in a school trip that took us to the mainland. I went with my best friend, Thomas Zinnwas, along with the rest of the team and most of the school officials.

We were scheduled to stay a Friday night in the hotel, play our game on Saturday, and return home on Sunday. Graduation was set for the following week, so for all practical purposes the academics were over and we were sure in a festive mood. Now, though going to the mainland was very rare, we aren’t totally isolated from the real world, and I had been allowed to go because my parents thought it would do me good. It was my second trip in my life off island, and so I was very excited as you can imagine. Of course, we were warned to behave ourselves, and we had plenty of chaperones, and events were well planned and our schedule was busy. Anyway, all of us were in a hotel, and while it was only for two nights, we were all in a crazy mood and like a lot of teenagers we weren’t thinking so straight. There were supposed to be four of us to a room, two to a bed, but our room had only three, and besides me, and Thomas, the third guy was a nineteen-year-old named Hans Hill. I never liked him, never, and he never liked me.

Well, on the second night after we had lost our game we had the option to go back to the hotel early, or stay for the closing ceremony which was scheduled after all of the games were finished. Thomas and I went back to the room, and Hans stayed. That’s just how it went, and nothing was planned. When we got back to the room Thomas started pushing me around, playfully, and I started doing the same, and the next thing I knew we were wrestling and rolling around on one of the big beds. Suddenly, he leaned over and kissed me, and my heart started pounding, and then I felt him grab my groin, and my cock went rock hard inside my pants. I didn’t know what to say, and yet it felt so good and I liked it and so I didn’t tell him to stop and instead I kissed him back and he sucked my tongue down his throat when I did.

We both giggled then, and kissed again, and then before I even knew what was happening he pulled my pants down, and then he smiled, and then, as I gasped in delighted shock, he put his lips to my cock and slurped in my dick. OH GOD IT FELT SO FUCKING GOOD! I had never felt anything like that, not ever! He was playing with my balls as he was sucking me, hefting them in his hand. Occasionally, he would stop and say something like “God, you’ve got big balls Luke!” and then he’d go right back and suck me some more. I was in heaven! He kept at it until I squirted out my load and pumped my wad down his throat, and he swallowed every single drop as I ejaculated. It was the most intense feeling of my life! When I was done, he looked up with a big grin on his face and with some of my sperm dripping out of the corners of his mouth, and said, “OK, Luke, it’s your turn now to suck MY dick!”

I didn’t know what to do really, but hell, what else could I do? I mean, my best friend had just made me feel so incredibly good, and it just seemed all right, and nobody was around, and no one was ever going to know, so, well, I did it. He was so anxious, and excited, and when he pulled his pants down his teenage cock jutted straight upward, stiff and eager, and I stared at it and I wanted it and any control I might have had disappeared in that instant. I started sucking him—sucking on his big rod like it was the sweetest Popsicle I had ever tasted. I was really going at it, really sucking him, and he was moaning and he had his head back and he was getting so damn close. After three or four minutes he said “Oh, Oh, yeah. That’s it… SUCK my cock! God, SUCK MY COCK, LUKE, OH YEAH. OH… DO IT! OHHHHHH. OH GOD, I’m CUMMING!”

Then, his eyes opened so damn wide, and he arched his back and as he did his cock just exploded in my mouth. His hot sperm jetted into my mouth under such pressure that I gagged, and I almost threw up but I kept sucking him even so. He had so much sperm and it just seemed to shoot out of his cock like a fire hose! Damn he had a big wad! Then, as he was shooting his wad, without any warning at all, the hotel room door opened, and I looked to the sound and the door just as Thomas was jetting his teenage cream into my mouth. God! Hans was standing there, along with Billy Trakker and Michael Darns, and they took it all in, and right then I knew Thomas and I were in very serious trouble.

Hans went straight to the teachers, of course, and they quickly came running. They were REALLY angry! They interviewed Hans, and Billy, and Michael, finding out what they had each seen, and then they interviewed me and then Thomas. What could I do? I admitted to what had happened, but swore it wasn’t planned and just sort of happened. After that the teachers separated Thomas and me, and we spent the rest of that night in separate rooms with different teachers watching us, and it was very obvious they were very disgusted with what we had been caught doing. I tried to apologize, but they really weren’t interested in anything I had to say. All they kept doing was talk about the sin we had done, and how the devil must have crawled into our souls. I knew from the way they were talking and the way they looked at me that I was in trouble, but I’m not sure I realized at the time how big that trouble was. I was more worried about my parents, and what my dad would say, more than what might happen to us. I think, looking back, if I had known where things were going, I’d have tried to run away.

I was brought before the Council of Elders the next evening, about an hour after we had returned, and with the eyewitnesses to my transgression being present I knew there was no point in lying about what I had done. So, I told my story and begged for forgiveness. When I was done Thomas was called in, and he too put himself at their mercy. I figured that since we were still in high school, though we were eighteen, we wouldn’t get anything more than a severe whipping. While I wasn’t exactly looking forward to a public bottom thrashing, you do recover from them and I figured I’d get through it one way or the other. After we told our stories we were put out into the hall to wait our fate, and the deliberations lasted about an hour before we were both called back in. I’ll never forget what followed for as long as I live.

The Chief Elder looked at me with the coldest eyes I had ever seen, and then he said: “Thomas Zinnwas, I am ashamed of you. And that goes for you as well, Luke Dreskot. There is no excuse for what you have done, and when I think of it I am disgusted and my stomach turns. The council has found both of you guilty of acts of an unnatural nature against the will of God, and it is our feeling that you two are not worthy to carry semen or to procreate. Consequently, you are both sentenced to castration, to have your life on earth ended as reproductive beings. Hopefully your punishments will serve as examples to others who might be contemplating similar sinfulness.”

And then, as soon as he finished saying that the church bell began to toll, and I suddenly realized it was tolling for me! OH GOD, I WAS GOING TO BE CASTRATED! I jumped up, I think to run away, but they grabbed my arms and wrestled me to the floor. I struggled so damned hard, but they soon had my wrists lashed together, out in front of me, and with one of the ropes left long, the free end about ten feet in length. That they tossed over one of the beams in the ceiling, and hoisted my arms up, and after that I was pretty much helpless. I waited like that, with my arms trussed up over my head, standing there, waiting for the village males to be assembled so we could be brought in for our punishment.

After they had Thomas trussed up the same way, our neckties were removed, and then our dress shirts were ripped off and our pants were unbuckled and removed. Within a few minutes Thomas and I were stripped to just our underpants. After that we just stood there in that room while the town’s men and boys were assembled in the main hall to watch our unmanning. I just couldn’t believe it! I had never suspected that I might be castrated…never, and suddenly it was real and I was freaking out! It had just been a game! Of course, they didn’t see it that way, and the decision had been made and the bell was ringing. The very idea of all of my school friends laughing at me and watching my balls being cut from my bag was so horrendous it can’t be described, but, even so, I was powerless to prevent it and there was nothing I could do but wait for it to be done.

After a while they came and fetched us. Our underwear was jerked down before we were marched out, and that surprised me because when I had witnessed other castration punishments those men had always been wearing their underwear when they were brought in to have their transgressions avenged. But we were stripped naked, and everything was on display as we were led into the big room by the long ropes that bound our wrists. It was so fucking embarrassing! Thomas went first and I was pulled along behind him, and it was not a good feeling!

Everyone was there, at least every male in the village, and I think my entire school had turned out to watch me be castrated. I noticed right away that the punishment barrel was missing, and that surprised me even more than having my underwear taken. There wasn’t a barrel which I had expected to see. Instead, I was pulled to the center of the room, and shoved down to my knees so that I was kneeling in front of everyone who had assembled. As that was done, one of the elders almost shouted at me: “Kneel, queerboy, and face your peers! You boys will kneel for your punishment, so you can better beg for forgiveness!”

And, so we knelt.

Once we were kneeling, they took two big spikes and drove them into the floor, one beside each ankle, and then they took a short piece of rope and tied our ankles to the steel pegs. They drove two more spikes next to each knee, and put a lash around my legs above the knees and secured it around those pegs as well. At that point my feet were apart, so my legs were spread, and I was kneeling there and facing everyone, kneeling beside Thomas and both of us were side by side. As soon as our spread legs were pegged in position, the long end of the rope that tied our wrists together was tossed over one of the low log beams in the ceiling which was directly over our heads, and then our arms were hoisted upward until we were stretched out in that position.

I stared at the crowd, and they stared at me. My father wasn’t there, and I figured he had decided not to watch his eldest son losing his balls. But my brothers were, all of them, and they were looking at me and there was little sympathy in their expression. Of course, male-on-male sex is strictly forbidden, and I had shamed my family and my punishment probably seemed appropriate from their perspective. My youngest brother was ten, and Zachary was just squinting his eyes and staring at me, with a look of anger on his face that was unmistakable. Beside him was Henry, and he was just twelve, and when I looked at him he was staring at my scrotum, his eyes wide as he took in the size of it. As I looked at him I noticed the barest wisp of darkening fuzz over his upper lip, just starting to sprout there, and it occurred to me that in a few minutes he would be far more of a man than I would ever be again. Needless to say, it was not a good feeling!

Mr. Ganner came forward then, and he was holding two wooden poles in his hand. I had no idea what they were for. They looked like broom handles, about three feet long or so, and I had this terrible feeling we were going to be beat with them. They were stout wooden poles, and one end had been sanded round and was totally smooth looking, and seemed to be coated with a clear varnish or Varathane, and that end was glistening almost like it had been oiled. The other end was cut off flat, and coming out of the center of the wooden rod was a nail, about three inches long or so and just sticking out of the pole like a poker.

As I was taking this all in Mr. Ganner came up behind me, and he put one hand around my waist and suddenly I felt that rounded end being pushed up against my ass! I yelled out “No!” STOP! Wait, you can’t DO that! NO! STOP DAMN IT! NOOOO!”

Still, in spite of my yelling, he didn’t stop. I tried to clinch my hole closed, but he pushed it past that ring of muscle and as it went into me I tossed my head back and screamed. Fuck, it hurt! He didn’t care and just pushed that rod right into my rectum until it was buried as far as it would go. I grunted when it bottomed out, and everyone laughed when I did. They wanted me to be nutted!

Well, after he had it in me, he pushed forward with the rod, hard, and I was forced to literally jut my groin outward, as far as I could, towards everyone who was laughing. It was a terrible feeling, let me tell you! Worse, with my ankles and knees tied to the pegs, and my arms stretched out and secured to the beam in the ceiling, all I could do was to push forward as far as I could to try and relieve the pressure from that wooden rod stuffed in my hole. Mr. Ganner laughed too and then he just twisted that rod that was deep in my hole and made me grunt some more. As he was doing that, he said “yeah, boy, I think you like it!” There was even more laughter then!

After the man had his fun at my expense, he then very slowly lowered the nail end to the floor, and when it was against the floor he shoved it forward, between my legs, so that the rod went even deeper in my hole and the nail stuck in the wood between my knees. YEOW! I felt like I was being impaled, and it really hurt!

Of course, with that rod jammed so deep in my hole and the other end of it jammed into the floor, I was powerless to remove it, and unable to pull backward; and, with my knees lashed to the floor, I couldn’t rise to relieve the pressure. It literally forced me to keep my hips jutted outwards, towards everyone looking at me, almost as if I was trying to fuck something. I was jutting out my groin, sticking my genitals towards the crowd almost as if I was anxious to have them removed! It was a horrible feeling, and yet as I stood there with that thing impaling me it stimulated me in ways I can’t explain, and my teenage cock started to grow stiff, and then stiffer, and I was unable to stop it from doing so.

Within a few minutes I had a full fledged boner, and soon my cock was as hard as a piece of steel. I can’t describe the embarrassment, but there was nothing I could do about it, and so while everyone looked at me my eighteen year old cock was pointing upward at a forty-five degree angle, rock hard, and quivering slightly with my accelerated pulse. I looked down at my dick and noticed that a single drop of precum had beaded up on the tip, and my face flushed red from the humiliation of seeing it there.

The same humiliating things were done to Thomas, and he jerked and thrashed about as they inserted that pole in his ass, and he kept tossing his head back and grunting when they wiggled it around and had their fun. He too was rock hard within a few minutes, and after that we were there, side by side, with our teenage cocks jutting upward and as stiff as they had ever been, our groins pushed forward, and everyone staring at us. To say it was an uncomfortable position would be a gross understatement. I still remember it, kneeling on that floor, everyone staring at me and my jutting boner, and my nuts hanging down full and heavy, the essence of my manhood just oh-so-vulnerable and waiting to be taken.

Nobody was rushing, but there was no hesitation either. As soon as they had us how they wanted us, the chief elder turned to Thomas and me, and there was hatred in his eyes. Then, he looked away, to those assembled, and said: “These two young males are kneeling before you and before God because they have defiled the sanctity of manhood, and so now they are spreading their legs so that their offending scrotums can be emptied and justice can be done. Everyone should notice that even without a woman in the room their poles are eager, so it is well past time to take their balls and to teach them the lesson they deserve to be taught. However, before it can be done, the sperm that they have already made, and which they carry deep within them, will be removed from their bodies. They need to be sterile, so when they have no more sperm to squirt then they will be unmanned. Once they have given up the seed they have made, then their scrotums will be emptied, and after that they will be unable to make more and so their days as semen-carriers will be ended forever. Now, we will make it so.”

Then, he looked towards us again, and said, “If you have anything to say, you may say it now. You have exactly two minutes to speak.”

I thought about speaking, but then I saw my brothers looking at me and resolved not to lower myself to begging. Instead, I promised myself I would not cry out and, no matter what they did or how much it hurt, I decided I’d keep my honor. No, I wouldn’t beg! But Thomas blurted out an apology, and started to beg for forgiveness, and I was ashamed for him and for me. He was babbling really, and as he babbled his voice cracked in a pubescent squeal, and it was really quite the spectacle. Some of our classmates started to giggle, and it was clear that his words were wasted and everyone was just anxious for them to take our balls. I didn’t try to say anything; I didn’t need to, because he was babblinglike a ten year old who is crying before he is punished because he has some stupid idea that he can avoid the rod with which he’s going to get hit anyway. It’s always a wasted effort, and while I didn’t like it there wasn’t any doubt in my mind we were going to be castrated.

Almost to confirm my thoughts, suddenly, the chief elder looked to Thomas and said “Your time is up. You have spoken your last words as a man. The next time you talk you’ll be a eunuch.”

No!

Suddenly, two men came forward whom I hadn’t noticed before. They had been standing off to the side, and they each just walked up to us and stuffed a rag into our mouths. I gagged when it was shoved in deep, and for a second I thought I might throw up. They then tied a chord around our heads which went through our open mouths, and of course the little rope held the rags in place and after that we couldn’t have spoken if we wanted to.

Someone laughed, and I glanced sideways towards the sound and that’s when my eyes caught Mr. Hanson. He was grinning, and holding up a small pig knife, working the edge on a small sharpening stone he was holding. As my eyes caught his, he winked at me. That’s all it took, and then, in spite of the promise I had made to myself, I panicked.

Yeah, when I saw that knife in his hand in spite of my resolve to do otherwise, I suddenly just panicked and with my castration now imminent it all just became too much for me. I started going crazy, struggling and jerking against the bonds and trying to get loose in any way I could. As I did, that rod in my ass seemed to push deeper into me, although of course it was only my struggles which pushed my hole down over it. I couldn’t do anything! Everyone started laughing at me then, enjoying my struggles and getting some perverse sense of enjoyment out of watching me fighting to keep from being unmanned. I didn’t want to give them that satisfaction, but for some reason I wasn’t able to stop myself either.

I know I was sweating under my arm pits, and with my arms stretched over my head everyone was staring as they became drenched with sweat. I just didn’t want to get nutted! So I struggled, and everyone seemed to be grinning as they watched me jerk against my bonds, and in doing so I literally forced that rod up and down inside my ass. I had to get loose! God I fought, but I accomplished nothing, and if anything my struggles only made my prick grow harder.

Then, the elder said: “It is past time to get this done. I need two volunteers to extract the semen from their balls.”

I was mortified. There were many hands raised at that point, and he pointed to two of my schoolmates, both of whom had played on our soccer team. Before I knew what was happening they were coming forward. One of them was Hans Hill, and the other one was Michael Darns. Those were the same two who had ratted on us, the guys who had walked in and caught Thomas and me in the hotel room, and seeing them coming forward to be part of it was more than I could handle. What made it worse was that they were from my school, and the very last thing I wanted was another teenager to touch me, especially one that I despised. But, of course, what I wanted didn’t make any difference at all.

As they approached us they were directed to pump our rods and to steal our sperm, and so they did.

The two of them knelt down right beside us. Hans was on my right side, and he put his left arm around my waist, and then reached out with his right hand and took my stiff rod into his fist. God, I struggled then! Someone said “PUMP THEM UNTIL THEY SQUIRT!” and suddenly everyone laughed, but the chief elder held up his hand and the room went silent. He nodded, and then it began.

Hans started to pump me then! I tried to struggle, but I really couldn’t move, and so his fist started to pump my cock and there was nothing I could do at all to prevent It. He worked his fist in a slight twisting turn as his obviously well-practiced fist pumped it up and down. Of course, being jacked off in front of all of my friends was the most humiliating thing that had ever been done to me, and it made it worse knowing that I was going to lose my balls as soon as I shot my wad. I tried to close my eyes, but it didn’t matter, and I could still feel him pumping me, jerking off my cock, and I was so fucking stiff it seemed unbelievable to me.

Right away my nuts started to churn, and I heard laughter, and then I looked down and could see that the end of my cock was drooling precum. I didn’t want to ejaculate! But the feeling built with no regards to what my brain wanted, and soon my nuts were boiling with the feeling, and I tried to pull my legs together and to pull back from his fist, but all that did was to shove that rod deeper into my hole, and as I did that the feeling overwhelmed me.

Suddenly, my sperm jetted out as that older teenager jerked my rod, and I grunted as it was shooting and my face went hot with the shame of it. I shot out the first ropes of cream almost three feet in front of me, and they fell on the floor in lines of white they seemed to emphasize what I was going to lose. God, I shot a lot of sperm! He milked it all from me, and it all spurted out onto the floor, there for everyone to see and all of it on display. At some time, while I was shooting out my cream, Thomas began to ejaculate as well, and so as it turned out we emptied our balls side by side and shot our last and final wads as reproductive beings at the same time.

Seeing it there, wasted on the floor, and knowing it was my last load, just seemed so wrong! I didn’t want to lose my balls! As soon as I had been milked dry, the guys that had pumped us went back to their seats just as two of the elders came forward, each carrying a knife. It was time! I tossed my head back and tried to struggle one more time, but all that did was ram that rod in my hole deeper, and I bit down on that rag and tried to scream.

There was no pause; no hesitation. Mr. Hanson castrated me then, while Mr Palmer opened up my friend’s scrotum and did him. I’ll never forget that feeling, as I felt my balls lifted up and outward in his hand, and then the point of the knife was there, right above my right ball. I looked down, and the knife was the same one that they used on the piglets, when they are taking their balls, and as I saw it the memories of helping to castrate the little pigs filled my brain. NO! OH NOOO!

Suddenly he pushed in the blade, and I screamed into the rag in my throat, and bit down so hard I tasted blood. It hurt so fucking bad! As I was screaming it occurred to me that my sounds were not really human anymore, or at least didn’t sound like me, and were in some ways similar to the desperate squeals a pig makes when his balls are being cut from his body. All I know is I jerked and squealed into that rag in my mouth, and my entire body shuddered. Someone laughed, and then I felt the knife being twisted, and then as I looked down my right testicle popped out the slit that he had made. It hurt more the worst pain I had ever had, and I thought I would pass out but unfortunately I didn't. God it hurt so fucking bad! Even now I do not know why I did not pass out from the pain. The pain seemed to radiate from deep within my bowels to envelop my entire torso, and it grew in intensity with each passing second. I remember that I shook my head and screamed again like a wild maniac. It didn’t make any difference though, and as I watched he made a simple flick of his little blade and my ball separated from my body.

The feeling of emptiness was overwhelming. Once second the pain was shooting through my groin, and the next instant it seemed to be gone, replaced by a dull ache that seemed to consume my entire being. I almost vomited. He shifted my half-emptied scrotum in his hands, and as he did I tossed my head back and thrust forward, then back, trying to get loose. I could still feel that rod in my hole, and yet I struggled on anyway, trying to do anything I could to stop him from doing what he was doing. I think it probably looked like I was fucking the knife but at the time I couldn’t stop myself.

My eyes looked outward, and for some reason locked on Hans, the nineteen year old who had turned me in and milked me dry. Now, he was grinning, his teenage rod stiff in his pants and he was obviously enjoying every second of my misery and anxious to see it finished. As it turned out, he didn’t have long to wait.

When I saw the knife up against the left side of my scrotum poised to dig deep for my last ball, I jerked with every single muscle as I struggled to prevent it. Mr. Hanson didn’t care, and even as I struggled he pushed the blade into the left side of my bag next, and made a cutting pull that filleted open the left side of my scrotum with a single quick motion. FUCK THAT HURT! I screamed all over again into the rag, and looked down just as he squeezed on my bag and pushed out my last remaining testicle. My entire body shook, and then he flicked his knife again and it was done.

I looked back up at Hans, and he was laughing, and then I looked away, down at the floor, and after that I just stared at my two excised nuts that had been tossed on the floor in front of me, sitting in the puddle of sperm I had just ejaculated. They were almost the size of hen’s eggs, and I remember seeing them there and it just seemed so wrong. My big balls were gone! I was unmanned! It was clearly obvious to me, and to everyone there, that my balls were no longer within my scrotum and my days of making sperm were clearly over. My cock seemed to know it too, as it wilted like a wet piece of macaroni, and retracted back within its foreskin almost immediately. Suddenly my little cock just seemed so small and unimportant, and it occurred to me that my days of jacking my proud pole were over.

I looked to my right just in time to watch Mr. Palmer taking Thomas’s second ball. My friend jerked and was pulling with all his might, his entire body glistening wet and covered with sweat. In the end it didn’t make any difference, and I watched as his last ball was taken and it too was tossed on the floor, and after that it was over for him and he too had been castrated just like a hog.

At that point, the senior elder walked in front of us, and he ground his foot into our balls, one after the other, until they were smeared flat on the floor and were pretty much nothing but just moist smears of flesh. As he was doing that someone started to clap, and the applause grew until it was a thunderous roar. Everyone sure seemed happy to see us unmanned!

They took the obligatory pictures of Thomas and me, kneeling there with our empty scrotums and the remains of our balls which had been smashed to oblivion. Of course, the pictures would be added to the punishment book, and our names would forever be there, our crimes on display and our public punishment available for anyone to review. I know I was ashamed and embarrassed, and I could only stare at the floor as I didn’t have the will to look up at anyone.

After the crowd dissipated I was untied and released, and yet there was no where really to go and wherever I went I was laughed at and ridiculed. My parents let me come home, but not for long, although they helped me to heal and my mother nursed me through the recovery. The soreness between my legs disappeared soon enough, but the painful feeling of emptiness remained and my lifeless cock certainly didn’t seem very important anymore.

I was lost, and unsure of what to do or where to go. Without my balls soon the things I had been interested in changed, and yet I felt worthless and useless and I started to contemplate ending it all. School ended and though I graduated I didn’t attend the ceremony. It was time to go out and find my niche in life, to find work and make my living, and yet I had no direction and no will. Most of my friends were looking at marriage, and the summer seemed bright and for them filled with promise. For me, time seemed to float, and I was without direction, unsure of what to do or where to go.

To add to my misery, Thomas left the island, as it was just too much for him and I have no idea what happened to him. He said he was going to find work, and perhaps he did. As for me, my parents told me to find work too, and I tried, but everyone knew of what had been done to me and nobody was willing to hire me. I tried everywhere, but all I got was smirks and laughs, and I couldn’t even find a job with the pig farmers! I was pretty desperate, and I had no idea what I was going to do. I had to find a job! Then, about three weeks after I had been nutted, I was summoned to the Pastor’s home, and there my life changed in ways I could never have anticipated.

Pastor Grant is the most powerful man on the island, and even the Senior Elder reports to him. Being in his presence and in his home was a very significant event, and one I found hard to even imagine even as I was sitting there.

After he had made me comfortable, he started to speak: “I understand you are looking for employment. Everyone should have work, and it is important to support your community, no matter what your past sins have been. As far as I am concerned, those sins have been atoned, and you have made your payment and the mistakes of your past are no longer relevant to your future. That is why I have summoned you here. You are looking for work and I have work that needs to be done.”

I said: “Thank you, sir; no one has wanted to hire me. I had about given up.”

The he said: “Well, I am going to hire you, and pay you well. You see, because you are no longer a man, because of that, you are useful to the community in ways you were not before. As you know, it is forbidden in the great book for a man to have sex outside of a marriage, and many of our young men are forced into an engagement just to satisfy the lust that entraps them. As a eunuch, you are not male, and not female, and so you may perform functions useful to the assembly that would be forbidden to intact men.”

I didn’t know what to say. My heart started to pound.

He continued then, and said: “I have two primary duties for you, and you will be paid extremely well for doing them. Let me be blunt, and to the point. First, I am not comfortable with the way the punishments are being conducted by the elders, and I have decided in the future that men being castrated will not be masturbated by another man. Instead, that is a work for a eunuch, and so that will be your task to perform when it must be done.”

My mind started racing. I liked the idea. There was something about it that appealed to me, and perhaps it was because I liked the idea of nutting other men and taking from them what I no longer had. Yes, I would do that, and gladly.

He then continued: “The second task is… well, somewhat more sensitive. I think perhaps I might make it clearer to you with a demonstration that hopefully you will understand, especially since you used to take such an interest in your friend Thomas. You see, there are a number of young men, and some older men as well, whose balls fill them with lust but they have no women in which to gain their relief. Of course, as you know, if they would sleep with a woman outside of marriage they would risk their balls, and if they dared to approach a man to gain their relief then as you yourself learned they would deserve to be castrated. So, in some ways there is no hope for them, unless they can find a woman to wed. But often that is not possible, or, like, in my case, not allowed. Nonetheless, their needs are real, and it is important that their needs be taken care of in some manner. These unmarried men need a mechanism to satisfy their lust without breaking our laws. It is a very serious need on the island, and one in which we have an obligation to fulfill. Do you understand what I am saying? ”

I did not. I told him so; that it was not clear to me exactly what it was that I was supposed to do. As I said that, he rose from his chair and walked up to me. I remained sitting on the couch, staring at him, unsure whether I should stand or not.

Then, right in front of me, he opened his belt, unzipped his fly, and undid the snap that held up his pants. I was staring, my heart pounding, not sure what to say or what to do. Then he reached to the sides of his pants, and pulled them down, along with his underwear. As he did, his big, massive cock jutted upward, stiff and eager and the big bulbous end flared and purple. As I stared at it he said: “I am such a man. I have no wife, no woman, and yet my balls boil with desire and the need to relieve them is real and cannot be denied. Even so, as the village pastor, I am not allowed a woman. Your other job, from this minute forward, will be to satisfy me and those whom I send to you. You will be paid; yes, you will receive a cut of the fees for the services which I will have you perform.”

I stared at his big cock. It was throbbing to his heart beat.

Then he said, in almost a whisper: “Go ahead, take it in. Suck my cock and drink my sperm. Do it boy; you need the work and I need it done.”

I didn’t know what to do—but I did what he told me: I sucked in his cock, and felt it throbbing in my throat. As I tasted him in my mouth he grabbed my head and fucked me then, fucked my mouth, in and out and in and out. I gagged, but he was absorbed then in what he was doing and oblivious I think to anything else. He kept it up, thrusting his big cock in and out, down my throat and he never stopped until he squirted. When he did, he tossed his head back and shouted “ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” and then he shot a huge wad, and it literally splashed into the back of my throat, and I swallowed his hot seed and took in the essence of the great man in gulp after gulp.

When he was done he pushed my head away, and then he zipped up his pants and acted like nothing had happened. I could still taste his semen, staring at him and not sure what to say or do. Then he said: “Stand up… and lower your pants and bend over the couch. I want to explain something else to you.”

Again, I didn’t know what to say or what to do, but I just did as he said, somewhat in a daze perhaps. I lowered my pants, and bent over the couch, and as I did he came up to me and put his hand on my exposed ass. Then he moved it downward, between my legs, and his fingers found the empty folds of skin that was all that was left of my once full scrotum. As he was feeling it there he brought his hand back up, between my legs and right up the crack of my ass, and suddenly I felt a finger push into my hole, deeply, very deep. As he did that he said: “Your hole has a new purpose in life, and there will be men who will need to make use of it. Part of your job will be to spread your legs and open your hole, and to fulfill their needs. You will not refuse those whom I send to you. Do you understand?”

I silently nodded my head. Yes, I understood. As he was moving his finger deep within me I started to feel something… it was intense, and pleasurable, and he worked his finger over my prostate and as he did he said: “Even though you are eunuch, your cock can still stir and an erection is possible. I want you hard now…I want you very hard.”

Almost as if it was obeying his command, my nut-less cock stiffened, and soon I was rock hard: my first erection since I had lost my balls. When I was as stiff as I had ever been, he then said to me: “You will fuck those who want it, without question, and those that don’t, if I tell you to. As a eunuch, it does not matter who fucks you, or whom you fuck, and you will not ask questions as you serve the assembly. Effective immediately, the church has hired you, and you will be well paid. Your official job title is Church Gardener. Your job includes a caretaker’s cabin on the church grounds, and you will always be available to me no matter the time. When the men’s garden club meets, on Thursday nights, you will be there, of course, always, ready to fulfill your duties and to serve those on the staff.”

“Do you understand your job?”

I nodded. I now understood it perfectly. When I wasn’t tending the church grounds I would be entertaining those he sent to me, the men of the garden club as he put it. Well, the idea of receiving men orally and anally wasn’t that appealing, but the idea wasn’t abhorrent to me either, and the offer of work and a place to live was extremely appealing. Of course, I would be working directly for Pastor Grant, and he had it all worked out, so that the men I serviced would incur no penalties, because I was a sexless being and there was no sin in defiling me. I wasn’t dumb though, and I realised that the pastor would be taking the lion’s cut of the fees.

His finger probed me deeply, and pushed hard on my prostate and I gasped. My cock twitched, up and down, and the feeling intensified.

“So, you accept the work then?” he asked.

This time I gasped, and almost shouted: “Ahh, YES! Oh, Yes, sir!”

When I answered him he pulled his finger from my hole, and grabbed my erect cock… and then he led me down his hall and into his bedroom holding onto my boner. What I saw next I’ll never forget as long as I live. On his bed was Hans Hill, totally naked, and he was on his hands and knees with his legs apart and his hole open. His entire bottom was bright red, cherry-red really, and when I took it in it really surprised me to see it that color. Then I saw the strap, the big piece of leather with a wooden handle which was lying on the bed beside him, and it was clearly obvious at that point that the young man had been strapped with it, and there was no doubt from the color of his ass that the spanking had been hard. Yeah, that big thick piece of leather was still on the bed, and I took in the holes down its length and knew it had to have hurt like hell. When I came into the room he was looking over his shoulder, and he had obviously been crying. Clearly, he wasn’t having a good day, and when his teary eyes caught mine his face flushed red with embarrassment, and the look of surprise on his face was one I can never forget.

The pastor said to him “Look out the window boy, and remember what I told you. Keep that ass perched up high, and those knees apart! If you don’t, we’ll start over with the strap. I’m not done with you yet.”

His ass was bright red, shiny red, and as I stared at it my eyes caught the teenager’s big scrotum, hanging down between his legs and full of the essence of his manhood. Man he had big balls! I was immediately envious, and I couldn’t take my eyes of his two big nuts stuffed in that bag and the way they were swinging. What I wouldn’t have done to have had his sack!

Han was looking out the window now, and he just stared then, ignoring me. The pastor walked me right up to him then, and then he said “Your cock is ready; I want you to mount him. He awaits a eunuch’s cock and has paid handsomely to get it. He knows he needs it, and it is time for you to make it so.”

I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t argue; my cock was rock-hard and the boy’s hole was open. Han’s face flushed even more brightly and even his neck and chest was red now, and it was obvious he wasn’t too keen on having my cock in his hole. No, he didn’t look too pleased to be mounted like a cheap whore, and yet he didn’t try and stop me. Even so, he started to shake and his eyes were wide open with surprise as he felt my cock up against the ring of muscle that marked the entrance to his bowels. I had mixed feelings, but after what he had done to me, fucking Hans was something I suddenly wanted to do. I pushed forward, leaning into him, and when I did the nineteen-year-old grunted, and then he tossed his head back and gasped. As he did, I felt his ring of muscle give way, and after that I penetrated his hole and felt his hot ass gripping my prick, and it felt so damned good.

He bit his lip and grunted when I entered him, and his eyes grew even wider as he accommodated my eight-inch eunuch-cock. I had no trouble staying hard in spite of my not having any balls, and I went all the way into him, my entire big cock buried right to its hilt. He gasped again, the feeling of disbelief obvious. I hesitated then, feeling the warmth of his hole, and I noticed the sweat on his back glistening in the light.

Pastor Grant then spoke, saying: “Go ahead, fuck him. Fuck him hard and make it deep. He has it coming, and it is appropriate you do to him.”

And so, I fucked him, as the pastor reached between my legs and fondled the folded skin of my empty scrotum. After a few minutes of pushing my cock in and out of his tight hole, I felt Pastor Grant take his middle finger and began to play with the opening of my own ass. I kept driving my cock into the hole and fucked him deeply, and I tried to ignore what the pastor was doing. Then, without a word, even as my cock went in and out and my ass thrust up and down with the motion, the pastor inserted the middle finger of his right hand deep inside of me, and a few seconds later he started massaging my prostate as I fucked the older teenager beneath me. God, it felt so damn good! I was gasping and shuddering with the intense pleasure. Then, shortly after Pastor Grant had me reach around under Hans and grab his erection, and so I jerked the nineteen-year-old’s big cock as I rammed my own pole in and out of his tight teenage hole like a piston.

Hans said nothing the entire time, but he grunted a lot, and I closed my eyes and took my own pleasure out of what I was doing. I’m not sure why Hans was there, whether he had asked for it or been forced to let it be done. All I know is I fucked his well-strapped bottom, and as I did I jacked his pole the way he had jacked mine not that long before, and he eventually squirted out his teenage seed, and shot a huge load. As he emptied his big nuts and shot his load he said: “Ohhhhhh… OH… OH, GOD! Oh… OH, SHIT… I… I’m cumming!” and then he gasped and his entire body shuddered.

As he came, something happened within my own loins, and as he shot his wad and his rhythmic contractions gripped my cock in waves, my pleasure peaked and it triggered my own orgasm. What surprised me was that while I didn’t have any balls I still ejaculated something, and while I no longer had any seed within me I still spurted something from my dick and filled his hole with my sterile cream. While the feeling was different from the orgasms I remembered when my balls were stuffed within my scrotum, nevertheless the feeling was not all that different—somehow, it even seemed more pleasurable. Suddenly, I realized I was going to like my new employment. Yeah, I was going to like it a lot.

[Authors note: © Copyright June, 2007. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. All comments are appreciated. --nathan9001@yahoo.com]