Wayback Machine
Boy
Date: 12 Oct 1997
After the divorce, he has a change of lifestyle. (testicles)
Comments
The following contains adult themes, homosexuality, castration and worst of all, divorce. Not for the squeamish. It is also fiction. None of it is true that I know of so don't try this at home thinking how great your life would be without your sex organs because I have no idea.
Boy By DX Copyrighted 1997
I was numb. Standing among the debris and wreckage that had once been my life, I was an emotionless automaton. My spirit, my pshyce shattered, crumbled during the legal onslaught that was simply termed divorce, I found myself defenseless, either from lack of will or courage. I could not tell if it were my weakest or strongest moment when I told her goodbye and left her behind. I moved in with Spencer. We were roommates in college. It was my first day on campus that I discovered his love for shocking people for the sake of seeing their reactions when he, without preamble, announced he was gay. I had simply looked back at him and said: "So?" And surprised him back. We were best friends after that. Now, years later, we were roommates again. I was walking to the bathroom, dressed only in a towel when he called out to me from his bedroom. He was lying in bed, watching me in the hall. As I approached, he drew back the sheets and said: "Hey pretty boy! Suck me off!" I'm not gay and he always took advantage of that to try and use the vulgar aspects of homosexuality to surprise me. But not to give him the satisfaction, I kept a face of non-pulse, and instead, allowed my eyes to rove over his body. He was lean, with soft, muscles accented in the late afternoon light. His nipples, dark circles on his smooth square chest where like chocolate buttons. His crotch was a nest of wispy, curly black hair and his cock, half erect, leaned casually against his muscular thigh. I had never actually looked at another man's body before. I was intrigued. "Well?" He demanded, trying to regain his surprise game as I sat on the bed. "Suck! Fag boy!" "Don't be gross." I instructed him, intently gazing at his cock, half watching him for his surprised reaction. With a tentative finger I gently caressed it, feeling its thin smooth skin. I added more fingers, stroking it, watching it grow and stiffen with a detached fascination. I ignored Spencer's abusive coachings of "Suck it" as I started slowly, gently jerking him off. It was a strange sensation, touching another man's cock, like a disembodied extension of my own. I then licked it, feeling its warmth near my face, its smell in my nostrils, its taste in my mouth. Spencer was being more helpful as he encouraged me to caress his balls and scrotum. I watched as a crystal bead of pre-seminal fluid appeared and caught up in the spell of the moment, licked it. Then I took his cock in my mouth. It slipped smoothly on the inside of my cheek, against the back of my tongue. There was some gagging at first, but I corrected for range and quickly got the hang of it. I had to hold Spencer down to prevent his jacking hips from thrusting down my throat and chocking me. I swallowed as he came and it tingled against my tongue and I thought that it had the taste and consistency like nothing I had ever tasted before. Spencer didn't try to hide his surprise as he caught his breath from his orgasm. He quickly threw me on the bed and ripped off my towel started suckling me to return the favor. I was aroused, but it wasn't happening. I wasn't coming. After 45 minutes of his best oral work, Spencer gave up with a cramping jaw. "I guess I'm not gay." I shrugged and went to take my shower. There, under the hot splashing water I relived the spectacle of Spencer's twitching body responding to my touch in my mind and finished the job he started by hand. This began an almost daily routine. Mostly it was either a blow or hand job. On occasions, when we had time, he would fuck my ass. He had given up trying to make me come after several lengthy attempts and just accepted the way things were. He had boyfriends in and out and loved to tell me about them in the most disgusting way possible. He told me about pissing and fisting and bondage games hoping something would freak me out. It only enticed me to hear more. One night, I had just blown him and we were lying there on the bed. He suddenly said: "I want you to be my boy." "I see." I replied. "And what would that mean?" "It means you gotta do me and all my friends when I say so." I could tell he was making this up on the spot. "And you have to do your chores, like vacuuming and stuff. You gotta behave or get a spanking." Doing his friends would be new and it sounded exciting. I was already doing all the cleaning so that was nothing new. I didn't know about the spanking. I only grunted a response for an indifferent answer. "Then you have to get nutted." He added. I looked at him and he was looking back, hoping for a surprise from me. "What is \`nutted'?" I asked thinking it was a tattoo. "You get your balls cut off." "What ever for?" I was surprised and he smiled as laid his head back and stared at the ceiling in triumph. "Cause, only the man has the balls. Boys don't have balls. Balls that mean anything anyway. I know this lezzie that hates men so she nuts anyone who asks her." "I see." I replied, regaining my composure. "Would you give me a day to think about it?" "I'll give you two." It was a week later I went to him and told him I wanted to be his boy. It took him several seconds to remember what I was talking about. It was months after that something triggered his memory and he asked me to be his boy again and I said without hesitation, yes. Turns out that he knew someone, who knew someone, who met someone, who had heard of someone who performed castrations. It took another month to get a hold of her and another month to schedule a date. Spencer was in a state of almost constant surprise that I was going through with it and I admit that I enjoyed it immensely. I am so glad that no one ever asked: "are you really going through with it?" I don't know what I would have done if they had. I planned a party. I figured that Spencer should invite all his friends and after they all had their way with me, can, at their vote, accept me as their boy. Twelve of Spencer's closest friends showed up and it quickly turned into an orgy with me in the center. I had a cock in each hand, one in my mouth and one up my ass while Brian, the self proclaimed Best Mouth in the World laid underneath me, sucking my cock. After everyone came and Brian surrendered in failure, I was ordered to jerk off. After a few minutes they bored of watching me and voted that my worthless balls should be removed and I would be honored with the title, Boy. A little while later a woman arrived. She was an attractive, shapely girl with an air of likability about her. She was polite and witty, returning the snappy banter from the collage of nude men all around her like a pro. She was nothing like the dyke pro-wrestler I had envisioned. Naked and nervous I stood before her. She warmly shook my hand and introduced herself. "Helen." After salutations, she followed me to my room. Spencer tagged along, but she stopped him at the door. "I will take your man and bring you back a boy." Then Helen closed the door. She opened her bag and pulled out cuffs attached to ropes. These we slid under the bed, one cuff for each corner. Then she spread out a latex sheet over the bed then strapped me down spread eagle. She laid out other stuff to include a ball gag that she laid on my chest. She then began washing my genitals. I was quiet during this, simply waiting for the job to be done. She seemed very professional, concentrating only with the task. She finally looked at me. "I usually don't ask why guy would want this. I mean, I heard there was a need and I figured if I can help get a few pricks off the planet we'd all be happier. I tie them down, gag them and nut them. I had to start gagging them because there are a lot of guys who fantasized about it and chicken out at the last second. I don't go for that. But I want to know why you want to be nutted. Your a halfway decent looking guy, you seem nice and you have a very handsome cock. A very nice cock in fact. Why do you want to be a boy?" That was a thought that had never entered my mind. I laid there, staring at the ceiling while a strange woman scrubbed my privates wondering what I was doing. "As a man," The words rolled out from no where. "I didn't have a clue as to what I was supposed to be doing. There were these unrealistic images that I was expected to live up to, John Wayneisms that I had to uphold. The price of failing was too great, too humiliating. I'm not John Wayne. Nobody is. As a boy, I had a very defined roll. I still have responsibilities, but clearly marked ones. The expectations are not as unrealistic, the penalties, not as sever. I'm allowed to have fun. Its not humiliation, its games. Games I'm good at. I have work, but I'm also allowed to play." She looked back to what she was doing. She became professional again, asking me about allergies, health conditions and so on. She then put the gag in my mouth and put on her rubber gloves. My heart began to pound as she took up a tool and introduced it at an Elastrator. It was going to put a tight band around my sack and cut the blood flow to my balls until they were dead. Then she would go in, cut and suture some cords, then cut the sack and suture it up. She eyed me for a reaction, then dug about her bag for a bit. Until now she had moved with a practiced fluidity, but it was obvious that this part was a break from her routine. She took out a bottle of something and poured it into her hands, then she rubbed it on my cock. It was cool and smooth and it took several seconds for me to realize that she was giving me a hand job. She paused for a moment, to undo her blouse with the tips of her fingers. She pulled her breast from its cup, then the gag from my mouth. "Come little boy." She whispered, offering it up to me. "Come, be a good little boy." I suckled, she rubbed, I came, she smiled. Boy, did I come. She washed me again, almost starting over. She eyed me carefully as she did, looking to see if I was going to back out. I was silent. She put on fresh gloves and gave me an injection of something to numb the pain. Then she took up the elastrator and loaded it. The first band went about my sack easily. I gasped at its sudden pain that seemed to crescendo like gas on a fire. She cooed and assured me that the pain was temporary. She told me to be a big boy. I was, but was greatful when she stuffed the gag into my mouth again. She applied three more bands making two and two. She then watched me for my reaction, asking if the pain was subsiding at all. When I finally nodded, she took the gag from my mouth. "Its not to late." She said. "I thought you didn't go for guys chickening out." I managed to say in between gasps of pain. She smiled. "I was sure you would say no." She rubbed my belly in a motherly way. "It takes about an hour or so before I can proceed. How do you feel?" "I'm, I'm okay." I'm a big boy, I thought to myself, even though my crotch was a fire and there was a pain, like a metal rod was being pushed around my intestines. She undid her pants and swung her legs over my head. Without hesitation, I began to lick the delicious pussy presented to me. As I slowly brought her to climax, she repeatedly moaned what a good boy I was, driving me to work harder. She came with a trembling and a squeal and she sprang off me like she was shocked. Shaking, she took her place on the bed and I beamed with pride. She took a wet towel and whipped my face. "How's the pain now." It was significantly reduced. "Thank you for distracting me." She shorted a half laugh, as she checked on my cold, dying balls. "No, thank you." We chatted a bit more about different things before she deemed me ready. With a scalpel, she cut into the sack and cut the cords the stitched them closed. She then took a set of surgical sheers that with a sharp ratcheting sound, separated the balls from my body. After sowing up the stub, removed the two bands that were on my body. Pain shot through me again and I wished for the gag to chew into. She waited for it to settle a little before she undid my cuffs let Spencer in the room. She packed her things as Spencer's friends filed in to see the Eunuch. I smiled with pride. I wanted them to look, to see the boy who was there to serve them. Brian watched as she put my balls, still tied off with rubber bands into a jar. "What are you going to do with those?" "I take the testicles and dunk them in gold and make jewelry for my dyke friends. Care to be immortalized in gold?" Brian backed off quickly as Helen gave a list to Spencer. "As the responsible parent of this child you are to get him a bottle of zinc supplements, potassium supplements and vitamin C supplements. Here are some pain killers to be taken before bed. They will knock him out. Give him Tylenol or Excedrin for pain during the day. He must lift nothing over twenty pounds. I will be back next week to finish the job." She then looked at me. "Now you be a good boy." She kissed my forehead and left. The days to follow I was as weak as a kitten. I did nothing until the third day when I was strong enough to sit in front of the t.v. to fold laundry. Spencer played the good parent and was very patient while waiting for me to gain enough strength to give him a hand job. Helen returned as promised. Spencer had forgotten (How long could anyone expect him to be a responsible parent) and had gone out. Helen and I were alone. Strapped to the bed once again Helen examined her work with satisfaction. She then explained about the penectomy she was about to perform as she prepared to inject me with a local anethisia. She was going to cut off my cock to the base and them some, severing the nerves and relocating my urethra. This took several seconds to sink in. "Why are you cutting off my cock?" "With hormone supplements you can continue a normal sex life with erections and the whole nine yards. I think it defeats the purpose of getting nutted, don't you?" I didn't like the idea of being a man again. I shook my head. She smiled. "I thought so." "But, with out my penis, won't I look like a girl down there?" She shrugged. I could tell that this was something she never bothered to discuss before. I imagined anyone else would be gagged at this point and thus this quandary is never talked about. "Little boys are often mistaken for little girls and vice versa. Wouldn't you like to be a little girl sometimes?" "No, not really." "Spoken like a true little boy." She looked at my penis. "It is a rather handsome cock." She said setting down her syringe. "And deserving of a proper send off." She slipped her jeans from her hips and fished a condom out of her purse. "I didn't realized you where into molesting little boys." She smiled as she fondled my stirring cock. "You don't seem so little to me." She lubbed me, straddled me, rocking back and forth enjoying the moment, letting my cock massage her insides, her clit rubbing into my body. She squealed as she came. Then she smiled as she rose up, pumping my cock in her tight opening, letting me come, then come again. "I didn't think I could do that." I gasped as she climbed off. "With supplements you could do it as much as you like." "I didn't think you were a sadist. Stop teasing me. Are you going to make me a boy or what?" She smiled, stroking my stomach. "I what you to be a boy as much as you do." She injected the local. "I think you will be a wonderful boy. She poked me. "Numb yet? Good." This procedure was more encompassing than the first but she got it done. I looked at the slit of stitches that sort of looked very effeminate. "What are you going to do with the penis?" "I'm going to cook it and eat it. I'll split it with you." "I don't think there is enough for two. You eat it." She took it into the kitchen and did so. It smelled like bacon. I was nodding off from the drugs she gave me as she readied to leave. "Because you were such a good little boy. I brought you a little present. Its a souvenir." She placed a small wrapped box on the table. As she bent over a gold pendant on her necklace swung free. It was my testicle. She smiled. "Your's was the most interesting nutting to date. I decided to keep a little souvenir too." She kissed my forehead and left. In the box was my other testicle, gilded and mounted for me to wear. I hung it up over my bed and slept for almost two days straight. I had to exercise and eat better to keep from gaining weight. The hot flashes caught me off guard when they first started. I had the most peculiar sense of giddiness when I first returned to work and sat in my chair and had all that room in my crotch. Overall I was thrilled. Deep inside I felt like a boy again! My body hair thinned, my wrinkles faded. It seemed to be a cure all. I now not only had my obligations to Spencer, but to his friends as well. Brian enjoyed tying me up and then running a belt behind my head then around his waist. Then he would go to sleep with his cock in my mouth. He said it was good practice for me. Sir William preferred taking me over his knee and spanking me soundly for no reason other than all boys need a good spanking. He would then order me to tie him up and give him a 2 quart enema, plugging him with a anal plug, then giving him a long, slow blow job while his guts just churned about inside him. Since he couldn't expel the enema until he came, (his rule) then I was inspired to prolonged his suffering for as long as possible. "Oh you bad boy!" He'd moan. "You rascal! Next week I'll beat you twice as long for this!" And he would. Spencer had a new trick. One day he called me into the bathroom and ordered me to strip. He was naked, standing in front of the toilet. I was bade to kneel before him and close my eyes. His hot piss splashed in my mouth and I quickly tried to swallow, but a mess was made anyway. This was the start of a new routine. I quickly got used to the bitter, salty brine and soon looked forward to it nightly. It seemed to please Spencer to no end when he would be sitting with his friends and would call me from the kitchen to pee into my mouth. (I got so good at this I could take a full stream in the living room without fear of spilling a drop!) One day, he brought home this thing that looked like a black condom that also covered the balls that was attached to a gag by a long tube. I got the gag, the other end to Spencer's cock. His plan was that I would be tied up at the foot of his bed, ready to drink his piss the moment it pooled in his bladder as he slept. What happened in reality was he would kick me awake when his bursting bladder woke him and I got to gulp or choke. Spencer enjoyed this and I enjoyed Spencer enjoying it. I got Spencer to stop being vulgar. You can't use bad language in front of the boy. He calls me boy and I call him Sir. We agree on things, but I let him make the decisions. He is the parent after all. I'm submissive, yet I don't feel degraded. Even when Spencer made me drink two quarts of water, then taped the condom thing over my pee hole and the gag in my mouth. He called it a perpetual fountain. I got off on the fact that he got off on the sight of me sitting there being forced to drink my own pee. Although I still don't consider myself gay, I have gained notoriety amongst the gay community, almost legend status. I meet people who already know all about me. Helen calls on occasion and invites me out with her friends. They enjoy dressing me like a little girl and I get to service them. I feel like a little boy being teased by his older sister. I get immense pleasure out of letting Spencer and the others use my body, knowing they are enjoying themselves. Now that I'm a boy, I don't worry about pride, or being the man. I can sit back and have fun, play games and feel good about myself. Something that 7 years of marriage never did. My pleasure is no longer trapped by the restraints of my body. It is now mental pleasure and that seems to be infinite.
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