Chastity Stories from the Eunuch Archive

A number of stories involving male chastity have been posting to the Eunuch Archive (www.eunuch.org). Here are some of the highlights:

Alimony: Marrying her involved a cock cage. Getting divorced involves more

Ball Tax: To limit population growth, the World Government has imposed a punitive tax on intact males. When his philandering wife tires of paying, he finds out the penalty.

Eros Unveiled: The cock ring of the future can guarantee an erection for hours . . .or keep a man as limp as a wet noodle. Boyce agrees to wear one to save his marriage . . .

Fixing Jim: In this society, sex is for her pleasure, and to have children. Only married men are unlocked from their chastity devices, and only until she has kids . . .

Investing a Year: A year in a cock cage, with nightly cunnilingus and the occasional prostate milking, turns him into the perfect husband

Like Father, Like Son A young man inherits an "heirloom" from his late father . . . and learns why his father didn't need it anymore.

No Relief: After several years of denial (and cuckholding), his keyholder tries to unlock her husband's chastity belt.

Summer Schooling: In order to control his masturbation, a teen boy finds out he's spending the summer doing chores for his aunt, naked and locked in a cock cage. His cousin, meanwhile, experiences a more "permanent" method.

Teen Penises Trapped: Orphanages implement a permanent "solution" to keep teenage boys in line

 

Alimony (part one)
by Maddie Fay​

Trent could feel the urge to cum rising up his cock again as Lydia continued to fiercely rub his throbbing, red, nearly chaffed member with her well lubed hand. From his point of view, she seemed to be intently watching his cock, though he didn't know what she could see there, her hand was moving so fast both it and Trent's cock were reduced to nothing more than a flesh colored blur.

She was actually watching Trent's hands resting at his sides, where he had obediently left them at Lydia's request. She was watching for them to start clenching and unclenching, for his fingers to start wiggling uncontrollably, and now that they were, she knew that this was a sign that Trent was getting extremely close to shooting his load all over her soft, manicured hand. Suddenly, she slowed her rubbing to a near crawl, just barely moving her hand up and down his shaft, causing Trent to let out a groan of frustration.

“Come on, Lydia, just get me off already, you promised!” Trent said in his frustration.

Lydia simply looked up at him through the long black hair that framed her face, and watched the desperation in his eyes as she even more slowly rubbed his cock, up and down, up and down, taking her time at the head to rub a few small circles with her finger tips on each up stroke.

“I promised to lube you up and rub you off.” Lydia said calmly. “But, as you can see, I need to add more lube to be a woman of my word.” She explained as she held up her hand, which, though quite sticky, was clearly not wet with lube.

Lydia reached across the bed and grasped the bottle of lube lying there. Pointing it at her hand, she squeezed the bottle. It emitted nothing but the sound of air, so she squeezed again, only getting a few drops of lube to drip into her palm.

She shrugged and tossed the bottle to the side before saying to Trent, “I'm sorry, honey, but we agreed that I would lube up your cock and give you a good orgasm, but we're all out of lube, so it's going to have to wait until I can get some more at the store.”

All Trent could manage at this news was to throw his head back and groan. Had he looked down he would have been able to see Lydia's childish smile of joy at his reaction, but, unfortunately for him, he missed it, as he had all the other times.

“I'm sorry sweetie,” Lydia said, trying her best to put on a “sorry” face, “But we're going to have to put you back in the chastity belt until later.”

Trent looked down at her in disbelief and said “Can't we just go without it for now? It's really uncomfortable.”

“Of course it's uncomfortable, Trent, it wouldn't prevent you from playing with yourself if it wasn't. You know how I feel about this. It's wrong for you to go around relieving yourself whenever you feel like it now that we're married. Your pleasure and your sperm should be shared with me from now on, and if this is what we have to do to make sure you remember to honor me, then this is what we must do.” Lydia calmly explained as she carefully rubbed the last drops of lube onto Trent's deflating cock and slid the sleek steel chastity cage over it.

Wrapping the metal wring behind his balls, she slid the cock cage into place and put the tiny metal lock into place, and, with a simple squeeze of her slender fingers and a click, Trent's lust was locked away again.

“All safe again, all mine again.” Lydia whispered as she straddled Trent and began kissing him beneath the curtain of her dark hair and began to rub her clit on his cock cage. This was her favorite way to cum, and since their marriage, Trent was slowly learning that.

...​

Over a month had passed when Lydia finally came home from grocery shopping with a bottle of lube in the bottom of one of the bags. Trent had complained about this more than once in the weeks after his last frustration. She claimed not to have noticed how much time had passed, though she secretly delighted in every hour he went frustrated because of her, secretly rubbing herself to orgasm after orgasm in the bathroom to his dilemma.

They had been making out for over an hour when she finally got his pants down and pulled out the fresh bottle of lube. She sat up, straddling him and slowly rubbing her pussy, still encased in panties and pants, against Trent's chastity cage as she reached between her breasts and began playing with the key she kept on a chain there.

“Are you ready to cum, sweetie?” She asked.

“Yes, I'm so ready.” Trent replied already almost breathless with excitement.

“Good, but I'm not giving you a hand job this time. I want you to cum in my pussy, but on one simple condition.”

“What?” Trent asked, eager to finally get to fuck his wife again since their wedding night.

Lydia reached to a stack of papers on the bed side table and placed them, along with a pen, on Trent's chest.

“I want you to sign a post-nup.” Lydia said calmly.

“A what?” Trent asked.

“A post nuptial agreement. I just want to make sure that if something ever happens, I'll be taken care of.” Lydia explained.

Trent took the stack of papers and skimmed through them. He was no fool, and he had no intention of giving over more than her fare share if anything ever did happen, though he doubted they would ever break up. It all seemed pretty straight forward from his brief glance. She would receive a lump of cash he could easily afford she could live off of if they ever divorced, and she would get the house, which was fine being as he really wasn't fond of it anyway.

Trent quickly signed the papers and handed them to Lydia, who placed them back on the bedside table and quickly used her key to unlock Trent's chastity belt.

“Ooohh, you're ready, aren't you?” Lydia said as she squeezed lube onto Trent's hard and throbbing cock before pulling down her pants and panties and straddling him once again.

Trent gasped as Lydia slowly pushed her pussy down onto his cock, easily sliding his swollen member into her. She bounced on his cock once, twice, and thrice before he threw his head back and moaned, his cock shooting spurt after spurt of pent up cum deep into her pussy.

When he finally finished, the last of his cum dribbling out of his cock into her, Lydia looked down at him and said, “That's okay honey, it's been a really long time for you, and I'm just happy you had so much fun,” before bending down and kissing him.

As she nuzzled against his neck, her mouth less than an inch from his ear, she whispered to him, “Let's get that chastity cage back on you now.”

 

Alimony (part two)
by Maddie Fay​

As Trent entered the house it almost seemed foreign so much had been changed. He hadn't been in it for over a month, and Lydia had taken the opportunity to change all the art on the walls, re-decorate with all new furniture, and get rid of the oversized TV that had always sat on her old hope chest in the living room. He couldn't help but wonder where the unit had gone and if he could acquire it before their business was done as he called in for her.

“I'm in the bedroom, I'll be out in a minute!” She shouted back. “Have a seat in the living room while you wait!”

Looking at the new couch, he decided to stand. It was some modern art piece that looked extremely attractive, but extremely uncomfortable.

As he waited, pacing around his old living room and examining the new art on the walls, Trent realized he had never once seen inside the old hope chest Lydia had insisted they take to every place they had ever stayed at, carrying the heavy, clunky box from one apartment to the next and finally to it's current spot in the living room.

He doubted he would get another chance to peek inside once the divorce was finalized. They had remained friendly so far, but who knew what would happen once the business was completed and they both had found new lovers. His curiosity peaked, Trent slowly lifted the lid, trying not to disturb the doilies resting on its surface, and peeked inside.

In the dim light, he glimpsed what appeared to be several small jars filled with liquid before he heard the sound of high-heels clicking down the hallway and quickly shut the box and stepped away from it.

As Lydia entered the room, clad in a too tight button up shirt and a too short black business skirt, Trent was amazed at how great she looked. He almost wanted to try to seduce her and see if they could stay together longer, but he knew that they had both long ago realized they couldn't stand each other, and he was certain he couldn't stand any longer in the chastity cage that had become all too familiar around his cock.

Lydia was holding a folder which she sat on the couch and opened.

“Hello Trent, shall we get down to business?” She said as she began to flip through the papers.

“Sounds good to me.” Trent replied, eager to get the cage off his cock and get some unknown pussy, as he sat down next to her. Lydia looked at him from the corner of her eye, smiling slyly before going back to her papers.

“It looks like we're almost done. The deed to the house came today, and your alimony check cleared, thank you by the way, so that's almost it.” She said as she flipped through a few more of the papers.
Trent shifted uncomfortably, as if to emphasize the one thing Lydia seemed to be forgetting, as his cock attempted to grow in the cock cage in reaction to the perfect view of Lydia's breasts he was getting thanks to her slightly unbuttoned shirt.

“Of course, I need to give you this.” Lydia said as she reached behind her neck and unclasped the chain holding the key to Trent's chastity belt.

She held it in her hand, twisting the chain and watching the key spin as she said, “Actually, I was wondering if I could just unlock you and keep the key and chastity belt as a memento. It makes me kinda hot to think about how long I've kept you in that, and I would really like to have the reminder
available.”

“Sure, you can keep it if it means that much to you.” Trent replied. If she wanted to keep the thing and masturbate while looking at it, that was fine with him, just as long as it wasn't on his cock anymore.

“Thanks. Why don't you stand up for me?” Lydia said.

Trent happily stood in front of her and undid his pants, sliding them down along with his underwear to reveal the shiny metal tube his cock had spent so much time in over the past years.

Lydia slid the key into the lock and with a twist of her fingers and a click, released Trent's cock from its captivity. She slowly slid the cage and the ring off of Trent's cock and balls and connected them back together, relocking the device and setting it on the small table next to the couch as if it were a sculpture.

“That just leaves one thing.” Lydia said, talking more to Trent's still exposed cock than to Trent.

“What's that?” Trent asked, genuinely surprised.

Lydia flipped through her papers again and replied, “According to the post-nup, when we divorce I get to keep your testicles.”

 

Alimony (part three)
by Maddie Fay​

Trent looked at her in confusion, as though Lydia had suddenly gone crazy, “What?” he asked flatly, “Let me see that.”

Trent snatched the papers from Lydia and looked through them. He looked at them in genuine surprise at the highlighted line that clearly stated that his wife would keep possession of his testicles after the divorce. How had he missed that before?

“How do you intend to keep my testicles?!” Trent asked, frowning at Lydia, and taking the opportunity to look down her blouse again.

“Well,” Lydia began, “I'm going to wrap a very tight rubber band around your cock and balls to keep bleeding to a minimum, then I'm going to use a very sharp kitchen knife to slice them off. And, after I've secured them in a jar so I can do whatever I want with them later, I will rush you to the hospital so you can get proper attention for the wound.”

Trent just looked at her in bewilderment. It was absolutely amazing that he had never once realized such a thought could run through his wife's head, and that she would be able to plan it so intricately and calmly.

“I...no.” Trent mumbled, “No. I won't let you do that. There must be an alternative.”

“Oh there is,” Lydia explained, “But the alternative is rather costly as you can see here.”

Trent's eyes went wide at the number of zeros in the number Lydia's slender finger was pointing to on the page. If he didn't give her his testicles, he wouldn't have enough money to live, ever.

“But, this isn't fair.” Trent mumbled.

“Oh don't be so dramatic, Trent.” Lydia said. “It's not that big of a deal, all you need to do is start getting testosterone shots and you'll be good as new, maybe even better. You'll be able to get it up as long as the testosterone is in your system, you may even last longer, and you won't have to worry about getting some woman pregnant accidentally. “

Lydia reached out and began to rub Trent's cock, which quickly grew to fill her inviting hand.

“You see, we both get something out of this. I get my trophy, and you get all the bareback sex you want.” she explained and she began slowly rubbing his cock with her soft hand.

Trent thought about it a moment. It did sound very appealing, and he really couldn't afford the alternative.

“All right, let's do this. Get your equipment.” Trent said.

“Yay!” Lydia shouted, her face lit up with a smile like a little girl who's received the present she really wanted, as she jumped out of the couch and ran into the kitchen.

When she returned, a thick rubber band in one hand and a freshly sharpened butcher knife in the other, Trent's cock was still hard from her manipulations and his years of little to no sex.
Lydia quickly wrapped the rubber band around his cock and balls, twisting it into complex patterns to isolated his cock from his balls and both from his body.

“Don't want to hit the wrong thing by mistake.” She explained as she finished and looked down at his bulging, separated, and almost blue cock and balls.

She ran to the kitchen again, leaving the knife on the couch, and returned with a mason jar filled with liquid, which Trent guessed as a preservative of some kind.

She sat the jar on the table next to Trent's old chastity belt and picked the knife back up.

“Okay, brace yourself. You won't bleed much, but this could hurt a lot if I don't sever all the nerves when I slice it off.” Lydia said as she bent over, hiding Trent's package behind her curtain of hair as she got her face as close to it as she could.

Trent closed his eyes and waited. He was ready to finally get this over with and start having regular orgasms again, even if he had to take medication to do it. It had been so long since his last one, he thought about getting the prescription right away after the doctors checked him out so he could get home and jack off before looking for a good woman to starting riding him regularly.

“Here we go.” Lydia said as she quickly moved the knife through Trent's soft flesh.

Trent felt a sudden pain in his cock, followed by a feeling of nothingness. He found it odd that he didn't feel anything in his balls until Lydia stood up, and he could see quite clearly that in one hand she held the butcher knife, dripping with blood, and in the other she held his dripping cock.

Trent looked down in horror and realized that while his cock was now gone except for the slightest of stubs, his balls were still intact, attached, and aching with frustration.

“Ooops, sorry sweetie, I didn't show you the next page where it allows for a substitution of your cock for your balls.” Lydia said, smiling in joy at the look of horror on Trent's face, “I just decided at the last minute that I'd rather have this than those.”

Lydia calmly placed the severed penis into the jar and twisted the lid onto it, giving it a quick shake to ensure that the cock floated to the bottom and was fully immersed in the preservative.

“Looks like you get to keep your balls afterwards. Yeah, you!” Lydia said as she smiled and mock clapped in excitement at Trent's chance to keep his testicles. Lydia walked over to her old hope chest with the jar containing Trent's still slightly erect penis and opened the lid of the old box.

The light shining into the container, Trent could see clearly that within the hope chest Lydia had been so careful to conceal from him all those years, as several jars, each containing a shriveled, preserved penis.

“We should get you to the hospital so you can heal up and get to your new life of eternal blue balls constantly filling for me. Just like all the other poor boys.” Lydia said as she placed the jar into the box and closed the lid.

 

Ball Tax (part one)
by Anonymous ​

In the not-so-distant future, world "governments" are becoming more and more powerful. Other governments still exist, but they are becoming less and less sovereign as the world government passes more taxes and regulation in the name of "humanitarian progress." The world is becoming more and more like China, in the sense that rights are no longer something everyone is born with, and more like a privilege the government grants you, and it will take it away if it sees it fit for the greater good. This type of utilitarianism creates some problems, particularly for me.

In an attempt to curb population growth, they have placed a tax on owning testicles. This does 2 things. One, it ensures that only those who can afford children have them. This way the government is less responsible for the welfare of children whose parents could not afford them to begin with. Secondly, it reduces population growth in general as even those who could afford kids eventually slip up on their taxes and get their balls taken away anyway, or simply choose to not have kids and get their balls remove to avoid paying the steep tax.

The tax is not progressive, otherwise it would not do a very good job of preventing the poor from having children. Every single male, once they get a job and are eligible to pay taxes, must pay a ball tax of $2500 at the end of the year. The government chooses not to withhold this money like other taxes, because owing it all at the end of the year increases the chances that someone will slip up and not have the money. Now, unlike other taxes where if you don't have the money you can pay it back later and face penalties, the ball tax doesn't work like that. You either have the money, or have your testicles, and the government sees no reasons to give you any slack when you can give up one or the other right there. This also means there are much less back taxes and tax evasion, because anytime an intact male comes up more than $2500 short on any tax, they simply deduct the $2500 and then deduct the balls. This leads to just as many rich men losing their balls as less wealthy man, as the rich man is much more likely to make a mistake with their assets which might put them $2500 behind.

Another side benefit of the policy is the reduction in rape and violent crimes. With so many members of the male-population dis-dismembered, crimes that could be psychologically driven by testosterone are down. Since this proved to be so effective, the government decided to make castration a punishment for such crimes. This proved to be very effective, as it is not only a deterrent against such crimes, but anyone who still commits the crime is quickly corrected and very unlikely to ever do it again. Chemical castration was a common practice for rape in the past, but proved costly because of all the chemicals involved, and enforcement could be difficult. When the regime switched to physically castration, and applied the punishment to more than just rape, crime went way down as well as costs. Physical castration is easy and cheap, especially with the government becoming incredibly efficient at it. Men would try to avoid the castrations of course, but this was no different from avoiding any other type of crime, only much harder with the draconian control and lack of privacy. As a tax evader, you cannot even open a bank account without settling your debt with the government first, and forget trying to get through an airport with unpaid testicles on you.

Other than the obvious side-effect of no longer being able to procreate, one could continue living as a normal male with testosterone injections, but with so many eunuchs in the population desiring to have their former self back, demand for these drugs skyrocketed, huge taxes were put on anything that could increase testosterone, and prices went through the roof. They also made it illegal for insurance to cover the drug, and the market is highly regulated. You would easily have to spend over $10,000 a year on enough male hormones to keep your former self. If you were lucky, you would buy one dose a year around a special occasion such as an anniversary. Even prosthetic testicles were made illegal so that their was no confusion with law enforcement as to who was intact and who was castrated. So as you can see, they have essentially made testosterone a elicit substance, highly controlled, highly taxed, and virtually illegal for all but the richest and most upstanding citizens.

 

Ball Tax (part two)
by Anonymous​

Where I come into the this story, and the epiphany I have in terms of the nature of these policies, is much more complicated than simply committing a crime or messing up my taxes. My story is much more humbling than that. I used to be very apathetic to these laws and way society was changing. I had illusions of sovereignty and rights that my mind could not reject. Since nothing bad ever happened to me, and the government portrayed those effected by the law as delinquents, I never thought twice about defending the rights of those who broke the law. I never fully agreed with these methods, but the brainwashed side of me that saw them as a benefit to society did not abject, and the other side was too apathetic to do anything. I always said there was too much more to life than politics and focused on things that more directly concerned me, such as the interesting sexual relationship I had with my wife, Susan.

Susan and I were never your typical couple. You would not be able to tell from Susan's innocent yet voluptuous college girl look, but she was very sexually liberal, into fucking other guys in as many ways possible, and very much into domination and, to a small extent, humiliation. This is where I came into her life. I was just the type of guy who she could easily control, but still the type of guy she wanted. I was a good-looking guy, about a 9/10, very muscular and raging with hormones as an intact male. Not many men had the physique that I once had, since only a few of them still had their balls. I was smooth talker and good with the ladies, but I could never maintain a relationship because of my borderline micro-penis. Not a true micro-penis by the medical definition, but about 3 1/2 inches when fully erect, and almost buried when completely flaccid. Sexual relations never lasted long, but I had had plenty of sex, however unsatisfying it was for my partner. All I really wanted at this point in my life was a steady relationship. I was tired of the constant rejection and needed some continuity in my life. This is where Susan really got me by the balls.

We started dating and things were going great, and she did not seem to mind my small endowment, but would talk about it and tease me about it all the time. Later on into the relationship, she revealed to me what a swinger she was. She was fucking a lot of other guys, but she made sure I knew and understood this ahead of time so that I did not consider it cheating. Since companionship was what I was looking for, not really sex, and I was a pretty sexually liberal person myself, I got used to this idea. As long as I was the focus of her attention, and I was, and the other guys were mainly there for the sex, I had no problem with this. Eventually, she starting bringing other guys into the bedroom with us. This was awkward at first, especially with my small endowment compared to the other males, but I got over it as I quickly realized that they were merely accessories to her pleasure. Susan was honest with me and told me that my penis could not please her to the extent that she wanted, but that was OK as long as I was OK with her using other males to pleasure her. She assured me that I was the one she had feeling for, and that the other men in the room only enhanced those feelings.

This was working out great for a while, but my penis was getting less and less action. Her other affections still focused on me, but I would be stuck licking her pussy or fondling her breasts and kissing her while the other men got to fuck her in the pussy, mouth, and asshole. I was becoming incredibly sexually frustrated. When she was with the other men, she would grab there 8 and 9 inch cocks with a passion that she would never show my organ. During oral sex she would lick and suck each penis in ways that always made her seem to be perpetually hungry for more. She rarely performed oral sex on me, and when she did it was never with that amount of vigor. Before each time her vagina was penetrated it would puff up in ways that it would never do for me, and the way it stretched around the girth of the other shafts made me envious. It would form a seal that would move in and out with each thrust, keeping in all the juices when they came inside her and spilling out when they pulled away. Before, this made me extremely horny, but since my parts were being denied any attention, I just became more and more frustrated without any release at the end of our sessions. Then there was the anal sex. Susan never permitted me to enter her cute little butthole. I could not even touch it with a finger without her freaking out, but these other men who were 10 times bigger than me made her moan for them to stretch open her ass and double-penetrate her. This was simply becoming too much for me.

I decided to confront her about it, but not until after our next sexual encounter. This time, we were all alone and I was finally going to have my way with her. My balls were swollen from not being able to ejaculate inside of her for so long. I could not withhold my excitement. For the first time in my life it looked like my penis was pumped up to a full four inches. She stripped me naked and strapped me down to the bed. She then began a slow and sensual strip-tease in front of me, gradually taking off each article of clothing. She was completely naked and dancing exotically in front of me, teasing my dick without touching it. I could feel a strong throbbing in my manhood, and my balls felt like they were being pounded on with each beat of my heart. Finally, she reached down and stuck her middle finger into my anus, reached up rubbed my prostate. With that, I climaxed and came all over my stomach as she continued to rub the internal organ. I came so much that it rolled off my abdomen and onto the bed sheets beside me. There must have been a whole cup of semen. When I finally collected my senses, I realized how disappointed she was.

"So that's it, huh?" she rhetorically remarked as I caught my breath.

"I'm sorry honey," I tried to explain through each gasp, "but I was just so horny, and I had never felt anything like that before."

"Listen, I have noticed you becoming less content lately, and I am not pleased with your focus on your own pleasure. Furthermore, I think your skills in other areas have gone downhill since this change in your attitude."

I tried to interrupt to explain my grievances, but she continued, "This might be hard but here's how I see it. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life, but I am simply not interested in that peepee of yours, and I can't stand the idea of you using it to get yourself off. I want to lock you up in a chastity device, where you will remain indefinitely until I decide I would like to play with your little thing and get you off. Otherwise you will keep it on at all times, but to take this to the next level, I want you to marry me. Only as my husband for life will you be locked into this device."

 

Ball Tax (part three)
by Anonymous​

I wanted to protest, but the part of me that wanted to complain about the other men was drowned out by the fact that she was offering me the attention and affection I wanted for life. "Yes," was the only word I could utter. With that, she noticed that my penis was becoming very flaccid and ran to get some ice and a specially fitted chastity device designed just for my tiny prick. She iced it down to speed up the process, then slipped it on and locked it around my balls. Only she had the set of keys, and with my balls as swollen as they still were, there was no way I was getting out of it. My dick was so small when limp that there was not a chance I could stimulate it with how tightly molded to my groin this device was. The tube for my dick was so small that achieving an erection would be impossible, and even if I got a little excited, I could not feel a thing. Susan put rings on our fingers and explained that I would have to urinate sitting down from now on. A few days later, we made our marriage legally official.

I was incredibly happy with Susan, and she was showing more love for me than ever before, though sexual affection became almost non-existent. Part of me did not mind, as I knew I was locked up and of no interest to her, but part of me was extremely sexually frustrated and knew that she could release me and please me. Instead, I spent at least an hour a day licking her pussy and asshole in hopes of pleasing her enough for her to let me out and fondle my little dick. Pussy penetration was out of the question for her, and being locked up had shrunk my dick so much that I was no longer sure if it was possible. Sometimes when she did let me out, she would not even let me come. She would just tickle and flick my dick a little bit and make fun of it, rubbing it between her fingers and calling it my big clitty. Sometimes she would rub and even lick it vigorously and I still could not bring myself to come. It was as if my dick had atrophied from being locked away for so long. When I did come, it was a very intense feeling, but very small and concentrated. I hardly had any semen volume at all, as all the muscles and parts involved in the process were too weak.

Most of the time, she would just milk my prostate with the cage still on. I would get so horny and frustrated that I would begin leaking pre-cum almost perpetually, especially when I was licking pussy all day. It became routine for her to stick devices in my ass to drain my prostate. This led to almost no orgasm, and was more of a numb feeling since I remained locked up as she did it, but milking became my only source of sexual pleasure and relief. She eventually started using electronic devices that would force the muscles to spasm and all my semen would come pouring out at once. This was the closest thing to a real orgasm I could have, but was so quick that it did not have nearly the same amount of pleasure as real sex once had.

Eventually, she started having some of her male friends fuck me up the ass to milk me, while I was forced to watch her get it on with 2 or sometimes 3 other men. I was not gay at all, but watching her do things with those men made me extremely horny, and since anal and prostate stimulation was the only stimulation I could get, I tried to forget there was another man's dick in my ass and just focus the pleasure and feeling to the image of my wife fucking in front of me. It was like my wife was in a porn I was watching while I imagine the feeling behind me was really me jacking off. I got off on this a couple times. It felt great, but not for one second did I think I was turning gay. Each time I came it would make my asshole tighten from the orgasm and it would quickly make the other man come inside of me. The throbbing only intensified the orgasm, but the feeling of his load inside of me was dreadful.

Susan caught on to the fact that I was getting off on this, and she didn't like it one bit. She could tell that I still was losing focus on her, and could not stand that constant milking and the messes I made. That was when she came up with a plan to fix it. You see, I had a part-time job, but I was mostly in charge of domestic duties around the house while Susan worked full-time, made most of the money, and was in charge of all the finances, including . . . our taxes. You can probably see where I am going with this, and you may think that the government would catch a trick like this, but they do not know which spouse actually does the taxes and nor do they care. They will use any excuse to take away a man's hormones. My wife simply paid our taxes exactly $2500 short. When we received warnings and notices about the mistake, she ignored them, and I was completely oblivious that anything was wrong. The officials had already set up a date to come take care of me. When the day finally came, my wife answered the door and two women approached me assuming I knew what was going on. When I did not react, they assumed it was because I was either good citizen or actually had a desire to castrated. When they began to restrain me, I looked over at Susan and said, "Honey, what's going on?" to which she replied, "This is for your own good. Just try to relax."

They stuck we with a needle that began to sedate me. They removed all of my clothing, and Susan came over to remove the chastity device from me. The nurses did not seem to think anything of it. It was as if they dealt with men wearing them every single day. This notion got me thinking and stuck with me for quite a while. They used a metal device to spread my feet apart and prop them up so that they had easy access to my organs. They put a sterile pad underneath me, then they set up and cleaned up for the procedure. Everything had been made an in-home process to keep it quick. Like I said, the government had become incredibly efficient at this. They set me up with an IV to keep me heavily sedated, but I was still awake for the process, and they stuck a needle in each testicle to inject it with a local anesthetic. I do not remember everything clearly since I was heavily sedated, but they cut open my scrotum and remember them giving each ball a very firm tug. As this was happening, I could feel something oozing out of my penis. Everything going on down there was making me come, but I could barely feel it. They clamped off each ball, and with a quick cut they were both gone. They stitched up my now vacant scrotum, and explained all the post-care procedures to Susan. I was out for the next few days as I healed.

When I came to, Susan explained that I would not be needing the chastity device anymore as a eunuch. Part of me wanted to kill for what she had done, but that aggressive side of me was nearly gone. I was just glad to be out of that wretched device, and happy that Susan was there to take care of me. Most of my sexual frustrations and jealousy with her were gone, though I still loved her. I was still very attracted to her and would lick her vagina everyday and enjoyed watching her make love to the other men she would invite over.

 

Ball Tax (part four)
by Anonymous​

Being a eunuch caused my body to go through some changes. I would no longer have to worry about male-pattern baldness, I smelled considerably different and had much less body odor, my muscle mass decreased and I began taking on more fat, hair growth around my body slowed or stopped all together, and after a while I think I started to grow small breasts. Over time, my penis shrunk even more from the hormonal changes in my body. With the extra fat around my pubis, it was completely hidden when flaccid, and when erect (which was hardly ever) it was about an inch when I pulled the skin back. It really did look like a large clit at this point. Susan would still lovingly make fun of it, and I knew she really like it. She really enjoyed my new body in general, and like to play around with my man-clit and empty sack. It felt amazing and was the most stimulation I had in years.

We actually started to become more sexually active after my castration. I was still able to get an erection, but it took a lot more stimulation and focus. It made it that much more special between us, though. Penetration was still out of the question, but she would sometimes let me use a strap-on on her, and sometimes she would use the strap-on on me. As this went on, I began to feel more and more like my old self. My body was starting to produce more testosterone naturally, just as women can produce testosterone without testicles, and some of the changes I mentioned earlier were started to become undone. I thought this was great since I was starting to see a glimpse of my old sex life, but Susan became distraught by this once again. She was especially upset when I started masturbating and making messes again. She had no interest in getting the old me back and decided to do something about it.

One morning, she very clearly and concisely stated that, "Since your castration is not going quite as we planned, we are going to have to take counter measures. I would lock you back up in the chastity device, but you no longer have those huge balls to help keep it in place and even if you did, your dick is so much smaller now that it has nothing to hold on to. What you have is an out of control clit that shoots cum everywhere. I have let you have some fun for a while, and it has been an interesting experience for me also, but it is time to get back on track. Your testosterone levels are increasing again, and we are going to offset that with female hormones."

I could not believe my ears. She was not going to give me a chance. She basically wanted to turn me into a woman. I had no choice but to take the cocktail of hormones she prepared for me each day. All the effects I mentioned earlier came back, plus my frame and build was changing completely. I was gaining more fat, and becoming more curvy like a woman. My voice was getting higher, and my dick kept getting smaller. I could still get it up sometimes, but I could almost never come. She let me play with it all I wanted, as this amused her and her lovers, but I could not bring myself to orgasm. Then one night I felt a surge come through me and I felt my clit finally come. It was very intense and painful, but felt like nothing I had ever felt before. Thin streams of semen poured out of my clit. When it was all over, my wife was very disappointed. She quickly changed her attitude, smiled and said, "It seems your urethra has gotten extremely narrow from all these changes you've gone through. I think we'll need to do a urethral reroute to avoid any complications."

I heard a fair amount of concern in her tone, and assumed she was not angry about my coming without permission. She said we would go to the hospital to get it taken care of. She made the appointment and had me sign off on the release forms. I thought it slightly strange that she could do all this from our home computer, but everything seemed to be arranged. About a week later I went into the hospital for the operation. It seemed similar to the one I had right before I had my testicles removed. They put my legs up in stirrups and heavily sedated me but did not put me under. During the surgery, I realized they were doing much more than a urethral reroute. They were pricking dick with local anesthetic, and a lot of it. I felt almost everything go numb. I felt the knife go deep into me and cut very far down. They were performing a radical penectomy. I barely had any external penis left anyway, and they were going in and removing everything from the root of my penis. My wife was turning me into a woman, and not even using what was left of my dick to create a fake vagina or even a clit. She knew that as long as my penis was there in some sense, I would always have a desire for some kind of sexual pleasure. They took everything and made no attempt to save any of the nerves. In fact, they made sure they were severed. They removed my prostate and cut any nerves around it also, just to make sure I could not feel any prostate stimulation or ejaculate or even leak ever again. The only thing they did not take was scrotum. Susan has a plan for my scrotum. With a minor touch-up surgery they tucked into my pubis just a little bit so that I had inner and outer labia. They put the urethral reroute in between. They essentially gave me a fake external vagina, but no hole. I just had a piss hole in the middle like a girl.

It turns out she did it for her lovers who got a kick out of fucking me in the ass. They had no interest in fucking a fake vagina, and she had no interest in allowing me to feel any pleasure, so she made an asshole out of me. She likes the fake pussy lips because they make me look more like a woman and make her men feel like they are fucking a woman, even though there's no pussy to penetrate. Now I watch my wife make love to hung studs, while I get fucked up the ass, and as much as I would like to say I hate it, I have to try to enjoy it in hopes of at least getting a little pleasure out of watching my wife fucking. Part of me hates her, but part of me still loves her, and that is the part of me that she loves back, so it is the only part of myself that I show. She still loves me, and does show tons of affection for me, though not in the bedroom. Now I'm more of a sexless lesbian woman than I am a man. I am only a man genetically, but that does not matter anymore.

Months later, my wife decides that she wants to have children. She never wanted to have children with me, and even if she did now that was obviously out of the question. All she really wanted was to get impregnated by one of her studs. As her "wife" I would still be responsible for raising the children with her as lesbian mothers. I would responsible for them both emotionally and financially, but would not be the genetic father. She insists that the children would never know that I'm not really a woman, and that they would never learn of her sexual affairs. I really had no choice in the matter. She was going to get pregnant and I was going to help raise the kids. I always hoped to one day be a parent, but not like this.

As things became more stable between us, especially with the children, I began to notice a pattern. Every single one of the males she ever slept with, except me, worked for the government. They were all police officers, government doctors, senators, etc. This was when I had my epiphany. All this regulation was never about population control or curbing the societal side effects of testosterone. It was always about keeping those who had power in power and keeping those below them in line. Police and other higher officials never had their balls taken away, while almost every single other male in the population would be castrated by the age of 30. No matter how much of an upstanding citizen they were, if they did not have power in the government, they would get them on some technicality or make up some criminal charge. This way only people in the government had a right to mate and produce offspring, while all the eunuchs in society literally did not have the balls to do anything about it. It was all just a method of control. Not every couple in the world were as open about it as Susan and I were, but every single man was a cuckold getting his wife boned by someone of high authority. Every single child was the prodigy of those in power, while we took on the burden of raising their kids. Susan did not seem to mind. She was in on it all along.

 

Eros Unveiled (part one)
by Jocelyn​

The discovery of a new method of storing electrical energy initiated unprecedented and wide-ranging global change in virtually every aspect of life. Called the Owen-coulomb cell, after its inventor Jared Owen, this battery was miniscule compared to traditional micro lithium or silver oxide equivalents, yet exceeded their capacity by over a thousand times. But it was far more than technological change that Owen-coulomb cell brought forth to the world.

At around the same point in time, a researching urologist found that minute amounts of electrical current applied at a specific frequency combination to the base of the scrotum could stimulate the penis to erection. And there are bountiful financial rewards in the sex industry and all its by-products, as the Pfizer Corporation will confirm! Within twelve months the Electronically Regulated Owen-coulomb Stimulator - EROS - was borne. The initial model was basic, comprising of a hollow thin ring of hardened plastic in which was fitted an electromagnetic switch, an Owen-coulomb cell and frequency generator. Manufactured in two halves, it clipped together to fit snugly around the scrotum. These early prototypes were manually key operated and, to prevent priapismic damage, the current faded after a maximum of two hours. As an alternative to the outrageously expensive Viagra tablets and their clones, it was an instant unqualified success. Whilst operative, almost any man could guarantee achieving and maintaining a firm erection within moments of switching on.

Further research, revealed that the opposite could also apply, and a different combination of frequencies ensured that the penis remained flaccid whatever the environmental stimulus. This proved useful for the Corrections Dept who commissioned a model suitable for parole applicants convicted of sex offences. The outer skin was made from thin but impregnable titanium. It contained a rechargeable Owen-coulomb cell, a frequency generator, microprocessor and a radio-controlled receiver. The later of which responds to a remote transmitter that adjusts the settings and unlocks the device when the offender has been deemed to have completed his sentence. These rings are semi permanent and, at the instigation of Women’s groups, designed so that any attempt at unauthorised removal results in a high discharge that, in effect, castrates the wearer. Furthermore, when the level of charge decreases to a determined value, short sharp and increasingly painful shocks forces the wearer to renew the cell charge. This is only required once every six months or so.

It was inevitable that an advanced version was soon on the general market that included a transmitter that could achieve both effects, thus remotely fully controlling the sexual performance of the wearer. It was known as the EROS – C. . The result was to rent a tear in the social fabric of society by revolutionising the protocols of sexual etiquette. Within a remarkably short time, tens of thousands of males were relegated to the level of sexual serfdom by their female partners.

The real geniuses of the EROS were the marketing pundits. By the close of the first year of release, it was 'chic' to wear such a ring. Of course those men with an erectile dysfunction were keen to promote the device in a positive way. And research indicates that by the age of fifty nearly 40% of all males will experience erectile dysfunction of some form, at some time. The model that could lead to castration was initially modified for the general market to inflict only a mild degree pain. But soon there were imports capable of the real thing. And, such being the urge to live on the sexual edge, it proved popular. Girls hungered for the power it gave them, and were soon demanding of naïve and lusting boys, “if you really love me you will…” The rest is easily imagined….

 

Eros Unveiled (part two)
by Jocelyn​

When Boyce was unfaithful to Kathleen, for the third time, the survival of their marriage hung in the balance. Yet his love for her was quite genuine. His ace card was that he knew Kathleen adored him. Their sex life was good, for they were both sexually adventurous, and his ability to pace Kathleen to her orgasm was unequalled. He didn't resent Kathleen's much higher salary for he enjoyed his role as a social services supervisor. His sensitivity was a complement to Kathleen's stoic lawyer's pragmatism. But there is a limit to everyone's patience. And Boyce had finally stretched Kathleen's to that limit.

His latest conquest had blabbed the whole sordid details to her friends. And with the affair on the public circuit it was only a matter of time before a sympathetic confidant would feel it was only right and proper that Kathleen was 'put in the picture'.

So, when Boyce returned home that evening it was like stepping into a freezer. Kathleen sat at the dining room table, her almond eyes narrow and her normally full red lips a thin angry gash. She tapped her index finger on the polished mahogany surface. Without a word, Boyce uneasily eased himself down into a chair opposite. Oh God, he thought, she knew about Krystal!

Try as hard as he might, Boyce couldn’t hold his wife’s glacial stare. As he dropped his eyes, she muttered sadly, "I'm sorry Boyce. No more."

She was not tall but maintained a steely strength of presence. She had short auburn hair, cut in a mannequin style - efficient to maintain. Her figure was generous without being plump. Her royal blue business suits cried out - crisp uniform. That evening she'd obviously already showered, and changed into an above knee length cotton tan skirt and a traditional embroidered white silk blouse. A thick black ribbon with an Italian cameo was about her throat promoted a Victorian demeanour.

Boyce continued to hold his silence. If his suspicions were correct, she would have sufficient evidence to overwhelm him as a defendant. He bit his lip, and studied his clutched hands, his thoughts in turmoil.

"No more apologies Boyce." She said, shaking her head. Then she crossed her legs and Boyce was startled by a glimpse of stocking top! Stockings were their intimate signal that usually indicated the promise of sex, and although suddenly confused, he couldn’t avoid a tightness in his stomach. This didn’t make sense? Maybe…. “I don’t understand.” He mumbled, hopefully.

“Krystal.” She snapped, sending his hopes crashing.

"I, I couldn’t help it." He said quickly, grimacing at the terrible cliché. "I'd do anything for you, you know that…"

Kathleen raised her hand for him to stop and shussed to him. She idly picked a stray hair off the arm of her blouse, before looking directly at him. In fact, she was not entirely unsympathetic. He was very good-looking and would always have temptations put into his path. "Actually Boyce, I really do think you can't help it." She said resignedly.

"I don't know what to say." His shoulders lifted fractionally.

She nodded slowly, paused, then, asked coyly, "Do you mean it?"

"What?" He frowned.

"Anything? You'd do anything to keep our marriage alive?"

"Yes." A glimmer of hope flickered within.

There was a moment of silence, before she said in a measured tone. "All right." Boyce’s eyebrows rose questioningly. Kathleen studied him carefully, pursed her lips, and said slowly. "I want you to wear an EROS."

Boyce's eyes flicked from side to side. "But…" He paused, forehead creasing. "But I have one, what do I need with another?” Shrugging. “As if I needed one anyway."

"Ah, you fail to grasp the point. You only have a stimulant, I want you wearing one with an ECD option, an EROS – C” Adding pointedly. “Permanently, with me having control of the transmitter."

She uncrossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. By slightly leaning back he could see up her skirt to the white of her thighs. His groin gave a familiar stir and common sense ebbed away.

"It's that, or a divorce." She added with finality. An ultimatum.

 

Eros Unveiled (part three)
by Jocelyn​

Boyce tried to grasp the implications. It was not lost on him that he would be handing over total control of his sexuality to his wife. Not that Boyce was entirely against the idea, for the idea of wearing an Enforced Chastity Device intrigued him - especially in his current state of mounting lust. He was also aware that with most of the devices, once fitted, only the person with the transmitter could ever remove it without incurring dire consequences to the wearer.

"Yes, I meant anything." His ache for her was becoming intense, he breathed quickly, his organ hardening. "But…” he started.

“No buts…” Kathleen snapped.

“Well, I…”

“For heaven’s sake Boyce, no buts!” She repeated, raising her voice. She shifted slightly and her skirt rose such that a generous expanse of white inner thigh was exposed.

Boyce caught his breath and his pulse quickened. His negotiating position was weak, futile in fact and speedy submission might help to mitigate his offence. “Of course, for you, I'll wear one." He said, his usually disarming smile lacking certainty.

Kathleen straightened. "I thought you might concur." She said, and reached into a black leather bag under her seat, extracting a small package. She carefully removed the wrapping and displayed a silver ring with an accompanying small plastic device resembling a car remote control. "Now is as good a time as any to fit it." She said. At his look of astonishment she sighed. "Boyce, you really are predictable aren't you."

She again crossed her legs and her skirt rose continued its ascent. Boyce swallowed. She nodded towards his groin and he obediently rose. He slowly undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, slid them down and stepped clear. He felt foolish still wearing socks so he tossed them aside, followed by his shirt, and boxer shorts. He stood meekly before her, as naked as Adam. She raised an eyebrow at his erection. She hooked her index finger and beckoned him forward. She cupped his testicles and encircled his scrotum with the opened ring. Then she clipped it shut. Boyce was amazed to see his erection collapse within seconds. Kathleen grinned, "think of that as my wedding ring to you." She said, adding sweetly. "A very effective one I think, don’t you?"

Kathleen held up the small transmitter, which she carefully attached to her key ring.

"Now Boyce." She said, with a slow smile of satisfaction. "Whilst in the default setting you cannot gain an erection, you will virtually be a eunuch. Only when I initiate this setting", and she pressed a combination of buttons, "will you achieve an erection." Sure enough, Boyce's penis started to harden. She leaned back and he blinked as she inched her skirt up around her waist. She splayed her legs. The dark stockings, black suspenders, the contrasting cream flesh and the mound under her maroon net panties drew him like a moth to a flame.

With a whimper he dropped to his knees before her, his erection as hard as he'd ever known it. "I don't need that for this…" He grunted, thrusting his groin forward.

"Nor do I need that…” She pouted, “for this…" And, stroking herself, she pressed another combination of buttons. Despite his raging desire his penis suddenly lost its hardness and began to droop. "Instant castration." She observed. Then, she arched her back and wriggled out of her panties. "Tongue time only." She commanded reopening her shapely legs.

Boyce hesitated, fascinated by his shrinking penis. Kathleen jabbed another button and a sharp spasm of pain shot through his testicles. He yelped. "Now!" She snapped. He dutifully lunged forward, putting his lips to her moist warm smooth womanhood, and his tongue energetically flicked in and out.

He was good she had to admit.

Her breath came in short diminutive gasps, evolving to slow deep drawn out gulps of air until she finally began to groan in orgasmic ecstasy. She would have enjoyed feeling his hardness penetrate her, but this was the time for training him. His tongue revolved, lapped, searched, and tickled at her clitoris. Kathleen squirmed, her legs widening almost to the point of pain. She thrust her pelvis at him and he opened his mouth to engulf her entire mound of Venus. Finally she gave a resounding squeal of pleasure and slumped back, panting, her tongue playing across her lips.

She almost purred. "Good boy Boyce." She said, pressing her skirt back down. "Now, only I know the correct sequence of buttons to press." She paused to let that sink in before going on. "If you get hold of this device and happen to press the wrong button combination, you are likely to painfully castrate yourself. It's a Korean model and these devices are not regulated in that country. Anything goes, including your testicles, if you misbehave. Try to have the device removed and the same thing will happen." She stood, towering above him. "Your whole sexual existence is now mine Boyce. Emasculated when I want you to be and a stud when it suits only me. No more women on the side for you”. She growled in self satisfaction. Dropping her voice a little she said huskily, “Oh, and I think I should tell you that the little twinge of pain you just received was on the lowest setting. Bear that in mind….”

"What about when I want to relieve myself, that is sexually?" He asked with growing unease.

Katherine shrugged. "Only with my express permission." She replied, studying her nails. "And you'll have to prove yourself very good before I give you that." She tossed her head. "Don't worry, our relationship will be perfectly normal other than you'll learn to serve and adore me as your only desire." She pressed a button and his organ, like a rearing cobra, again dutifully rose to the occasion.

He slowly stroked it with mounting fervour. "Oh, Kathleen, thank you." He whispered, the speed of his hand steadily increasing.

"Stop!" She snapped. He instantly ceased and looked at her with pleading spaniel eyes.

"You didn’t ask! If you wish to relieve yourself you ask my permission, and it will only be given on very special occasions…"

"But, but…" He started and she cut him short. “I warned you Boyce – no buts. Only when you are very well behaved, indeed fully trained…" Kathleen left the rest unsaid. She had been given some advice on the training of her man. Her control over him lay between his legs. When excited he would be her slave, desperate for sexual relief. When, in his neutered state, the desire was lessened her power would diminish.

Her friend Jacqueline had put it most succinctly. "Kathleen, ‘when men’s balls are full their brain is empty’. " She had gone on to advise. "Keep the beast gagging for you, effectively lead him on by his erection." Adding darkly, "and if he misbehaves, introduce a little pain… As the saying goes, don’t spare the rod…." She thought for a moment then said. “Oh, and demonstrate the power you hold over him to your friends. They’ll no doubt guess the reason and it will deter their attempts to attract him. Or maybe prove a challenge?” They both laughed. “And don’t rely solely on your EROS. Let him have a taste of the cane, or whatever you prefer. Part of the training is for him to submit voluntarily to discipline. Get him used to obeying you, and offering his bare rump to you even when he knows it will entail pain. And don’t forget the carrot… Give him his treats and believe me, you’ll soon have him eating out of your hand.”

Kathleen pressed a sequence of buttons. Boyce looked down in disappointment at his declining erection.

Kathleen popped her key ring into her handbag. "Maybe tomorrow." She hinted mischievously. "Oh, by the way Boyce.." She turned to him on her way out. "Do you remember Carla?" Boyce frowned. She put her head to one side. "That new social worker you upset?”

Boyce nodded warily. Carla Fleming had been late several times, and had run up an official telephone bill with private calls. He'd had to call her into his office and reprimand her. She was a cheeky damn cat. Insubordinate to the extreme, and he'd berated her in front of her two colleagues. If looks could kill he'd have been struck down instantly. She was hard, vindictive as well, not really suited to the sensitive environment of his workplace. Her small cobalt eyes, trim blonde hair cut boy's style, and slim figure made her look almost masculine. He wondered about her sexual orientation? A dyke if ever there was one.

Kathleen smiled, her eyes hooded. "Well you see Boyce, you haven't yet been punished for being unfaithful to me, have you? Today was about the future, not the past."

Boyce's brow furrowed.

"Tomorrow Boyce, I'm going to loan this to Carla. Don’t worry, it’s only for an hour or so…. I'm sure she’ll think of an appropriate redress. …" And she swirled out of the room.

Boyce swallowed, whilst Carla held the transmitter he'd be entirely at her mercy. His face slowly drained ashen white. In those circumstances, an hour or so could be a very, very long time

 

Fixing Jim (part one)
by Kortpeel​

"Oh please, Laura. Don’t start on that again. The answer is no."

Getting Jim to go for his gelding looked liked it was going to be even more difficult than it had been to get him to propose to me in the first place.

He didn’t want his gelding. He was still clinging to his youthful lusts with all the enthusiasm of a pubescent boy. It was embarrassing and undignified for a grown man to have such longings.

These days it is considered distasteful for a mature man to still be walking around in public with sexual desires. There is absolutely no reason for him to be in this condition. Testosterone poisoning is a serious health risk and socially undesirable. These days it is considered even more morally irresponsible than smoking used to be. The only responsible thing for a man is gelding.

My mother was starting to remark that it was my fault for not encouraging him enough. She really meant ‘nagging.’ Even Jim’s mother, despite her uncritical adulation of her only begotten, was beginning to drop hints that Jim’s continued possession of his testicles was somehow all my fault. She didn’t say it in so many words but underneath her comments was the implication that it was my selfish sluttish needs that were keeping Jim in this state, preventing him from becoming a decent respectable regular man.

Jim was ignoring all this. In some ways he was a traditionalist, born after his time. I think he should have been born in the twentieth century, before gelding became an established procedure for preserving the social order.

But then again, Jim is a lovely man. He is considerate, kind and gentle toward me and he’s a good father to our two children. He seldom displays symptoms of testosterone poisoning. You know the sort of thing: anger, resorting to violence, excessive competitiveness, exceeding the speed limit and all the other anti-social behaviour in which men indulge and which, these days, is attributed to testosterone in the blood stream.

Jim still has his libido. Even now he demands sex from me; several times a month too. I always indulge him there. I don’t mind particularly. Sometimes I even enjoy it. And no, I don’t find it degrading for my husband to penetrate me as the women’s magazines are always telling me. Sex after thirty is not shameful.

What is shameful though is male masturbation. I know that Jim still gives himself a release when he thinks he’s on his own. I find that disgusting. For me a grown man bringing himself off is the ultimate in self-degradation. Sometimes he likes me to do it for him, by hand or mouth. I hate that. And he expects me to clean up his sticky mess afterwards. Personally I think that is the best reason for Jim to be gelded.

 

Fixing Jim (part two)
by Kortpeel​

Yes, of course I know there are those devices which men can wear to prevent them from masturbating. Jim has one but he won’t let me put it on him. He hates them. His mother made him wear one all through his teens. I can’t see why it should bother him so much. It’s perfectly normal for boys and single men to wear them all the time. I remember from my schooldays ogling the boys in their chastity devices. For gym and most games that was all they wore. We girls used to watch them and wish we were allowed to go nude too. We had to wear normal gym kit for our gym and games.

I remember on dates in those early days when I wanted to know more about how boys were equipped down there, those chastity devices were a terrible impediment. True you could fondle their scrotums, or is it scroti? but it was access denied for the serious part, the part you were really interested in. Jim’s mother kept the key to Jim’s device right up until our wedding day. She held it until after the ceremony and when she passed it over to me it was like she was giving away her right hand. She actually cried.

Being married gives a man full citizenship rights, like coming of age is for girls. Now he could vote and go into bars on his own. For Jim, part of that was never having to wear a chastity device again. He’s always maintained that wearing it all through the formative years causes the penis to be smaller than it otherwise would have been. I don’t see it myself. His four inches of manly flesh is perfectly normal as far as I can tell.

Most couples where the man is gelded tend to mix with their own kind. We were gradually losing our friends as other couples moved on into the tertiary stage of married life. It was becoming embarrassing. We were well into our thirties and were still in the secondary, childbearing phase, of our marriage. We should have moved on: our two children were now at school.

I was excluded from the support groups that other women of my age were forming. Even though her husband is gelded and no longer interested in sex, a woman’s needs in that area may still continue and the support group system provides them with a means of satisfying those needs. My friends tell me that women understand those needs better than a man ever can and that support group meetings are extremely pleasant. I have been a guest at one or two such meetings, just to see what they were like. They were okay once you accepted the idea that it was another woman you were with. I have to admit though, I do still prefer a man for that kind of thing.

Support groups are all very well but I had noticed that some women who were into the tertiary stage were starting to pay attention to Jim. Jim hadn’t noticed yet but women were openly reacting to him as a male. Ungelded males in our age group were becoming rare. I felt threatened and now I became really convinced that it was time that Jim moved on.

My mother seems to keep herself remarkably up to date on these matters. "My dear, if he won’t go for it in the normal way you should tempt him with a scene."

"A scene?"

"Yes. Make a ceremony of it. Most men of James’s type love having a woman pay attention to their private parts. Instead of a boring old eunuch surgeon doing him get one of these pretty girl cutters. You should be present too and perhaps even some of your friends.

"But that’s like him being fixed in public."

"Why not?" mother said. "You got married in public didn’t you? Lots of men are going for that kind of thing these days."

"But I don’t want other women involved." I’ve always been a tad jealous of other women in Jim’s life.

"Don’t be silly, darling. Besides after he’s done it won’t matter a dam’ will it? At least let him go out in a blaze of glory."

Sometimes mother surprises me. For all her high moral tone she can be disgustingly practical at times. What she meant but didn’t actually put into words was ‘if that’s what it takes to get him gelded then so be it.’

 

Fixing Jim (part three)
by Kortpeel​

Mother introduced me to a cutter. She wasn’t just a pretty girl, she was beautiful. Central Casting couldn’t have done it better. I was loathe to let Chantelle Turnbull loose anywhere near Jim but she knew her stuff. When she met Jim she went into a ‘little me’ wide-eyed flirting mode and told Jim how she’d just love to castrate him. I could have scratched her eyes out. And Jim fell for it, the fool. He agreed. At that point any qualms I had about Jim losing his testicles were gone. But I didn’t want her doing it.

It took mother to calm me down and she was so persuasive that I even agreed to Jim having an hour of one on one counseling with Chantelle so that he would know what to expect. One hour became two and Jim came out looking a touch sheepish. To this day he denies anything other than counseling happened but I’ve never really believed him.

I told our children that daddy was going for his gelding. "Gross," said Candela, 14. "I thought you had him done ages ago." Timothy, 10, didn’t respond at all.

However, come the day I drove Jim, his mother and mine to the gelding at Chantelle’s private clinic. I’d invited some of my girl friends to be there to formally witness the event. Inside the clinic was pure kitsch. It looked like a cross between a Las Vegas wedding chapel and an operating theatre. All the women were dressed like it was a wedding. I wore a pastel blue outfit and, ye gods! a matching hat with a wide brim. I felt mildly guilty at the extravagance. I knew I’d never wear it again but, well, your husband’s gelding is an important event in your life and you should be properly dressed for it. And I did like myself in that hat.

We took our seats and Chantelle, dressed in priestly robes emerged to some organ music.

"Friends, a happy marriage is always a beautiful and precious thing," Chantelle began. "Laura and James have been married for seventeen years and they have long since progressed from the primary, or honeymooon, phase to the secondary or childbearing phase of their marriage. Today we are going to see them progress to the tertiary, or happy-ever-after phase."

Chantelle paused, wasted a much too beautiful smile on her female congregation, and said "Will James and Laura please step forward."

We stepped forward up on the dais with Chantelle. She turned to me. "Laura, are you ready and willing to go forward into the third phase of your marriage?"

"I am."

"Do you understand and are you ready for James, your husband, to make the sacrifice that will permit you to enter the third phase?"

"I do and I am."

She turned to Jim. Jim had had a mild sedative before coming here and it was just as well. He looked like he’d happily bolt from this situation. Without that downer he would have.

"James are you ready and willing to make the sacrifice that will let you move forward into the third phase of your marriage."

"Er - I am." I can always tell when Jim is lying.

Chantelle nodded to an acolyte who was also too beautiful for words and younger. The acolyte took Jim’s hand and led him to the table of sacrifice which was toward the back of the dais.

Chantelle held my hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze and again addressed her small audience. "Ladies, at this important stage of the ceremony it is perhaps worthwhile to remind ourselves why we require that our men make this sacrifice for entering the tertiary stage of a marriage.

"We know that a man needs testicles to become a man, to enable us get him to marry us and to father our children. But we know too that men are apt to become violent, are given to rages and to conflict. We know that any ungelded man has at least the potential to become a rapist.

"Of course not all men behave badly. Very few of them show the symptons that we call testosterone poisoning. Perhaps occasionally they lose control but on the whole we are well able to love them as nature made them.

"So why do we call for this sacrifice from our men? Why does society demand it of them? Why should they be required to give up their ability to make love to us?

 

Fixing Jim (part four)
by Kortpeel​

Good question, I was thinking. Why should Jim lose his balls? I knew he didn’t want to lose them and I’d had to get Chantelle to sucker him into agreeing. Meanwhile, behind my back I knew the acolyte would be undressing Jim, getting him ready for his gelding. She would be stripping him completely nude, making a production of it and carefully and neatly hanging up his clothes as she removed them.

As I stood beside Chantelle, facing the audience, I could see their attention was concentrated on the action behind me. They weren’t taking too much notice of Chantelle’s words.

Chantelle continued. "The sacrifice is for their own good. First and foremost testosterone poisoning is real. Apart from anger and violence it also suppresses the part of their brain that lets them understand themselves and their emotions. The ability to feel those emotions is a gift to them. Secondly it is better for their health and the length of their lives. Their gift to us is themselves and a longer life together.

"Thirdly James is now at a stage when he no longer needs the sex drive and the libido that testicles give him. He is ready to advance into respectability. Laura and Jim have had their children. Jim will never need to sire a child again. The passionate sex of the primary stage of their marriage is behind them. The few seconds of orgasm that a man has now and again is a small and pitiful reward for the cost of bearing testicles."

"After the sacrifice that James is about to make, he and Laura will move on hand in hand, in love, forward into the rest of their lives together."

The organ music started up. Chantelle and I turned to see that Jim was now on the table of sacrifice and the acolyte had given him a pubic shave. This was the one occasion when a man was expected to display his erection in public and Jim was co-operating wholeheartedly. The acolyte had done an excellent job there.

Chantelle addressed the audience again. "Ladies as Laura and James enter the tertiary phase of their marriage, I‘d like you to come up and each of you to stroke James’s scrotum as a farewell to it’s contents. We want James to enjoy his last few minutes as a full man."

Chantelle injected Jim with anaesthetic and then nodded to one of my friends. Dolly was a bubbly fun-loving extrovert. She came up, gave James’s whole cluster a really hearty loving caress. She even kissed the tip of his prick. Then, licking the pre-come off her lips, she held James’s balls in both hands and gave them a squeeze. "Good-bye fellers. You really have done a lovely job. Jim’s a super guy and you’ve given Laura two lovely children."

All the rest of the girls in their turn got in a loving fondle of my husband’s cock and they bade his balls a fond farewell. James for his part was so horny from all this attention and loving it so much he seemed to forget what the next part was going to be.

It was my turn. Holding Jim’s prick I kissed him lovingly on the lips as he lay on the table of sacrifice. Chantelle got to work. Jim’s balls had had more handling in the last few minutes than in all the rest of his life. She applied disinfectant which I feared would sting but by now the anaesthetic had begun to work.

The girls hadn’t returned to their seats but were standing around taking a very close interest in what Chantelle was doing. I felt them wince as Chantelle made the incisions. They gasped and gaped as she popped his testicles out of their bag. Marcia Anders always needs to pee when she gets excited. She was standing with her legs tightly crossed staring open mouthed at Jim’s testicles dangling there in the open air. Janet Dawkins was absently running a finger around the crotch of her slacks. Dolly, bless her, had tears in her eyes.

I was lightly masturbating Jim, going very slowly so that he didn’t come too soon. This was one of those times when everything has to be right first time. There would be no second chance. Chantelle had two clamps ready to apply, one to each cord. She nodded to me and I increased the stroke rate.

Jim always came with a yell. "Yeah!" he cried and his squirts shot out from his penis. I went to maximum stroke rate and was, from habit, trying to make sure I worked him right through. The squirts ceased as Chantelle severed the cords. She was busy closing the severed cords with tiny stainless steels clips that would remain forever in place. Jim twitched as a signal that he wanted my hand to keep going. I did but I turned my head. I didn’t want him to see that I too had tears in my eyes.

Jim was done. The symbolism as the table of sacrifice glided silently through a curtain wasn’t lost on me. At least Jim was going to a recovery room and not into the crematory furnace but even so the old Jim was no more. Never again would he penetrate me or pester me for a hand job. Never again would I have to clear up his sticky mess. Nor would other women secretly envy me for still having a sexually active husband.

Oh God! What have I done?

"Don’t be silly," mother hissed at me at the all-female reception we had after the ceremony. It’s ridiculous for a man still to have testicles at his age. Disgusting in fact. You should have had it done years ago. Both of you will be much better off for it."

It turns out mother was right. It took nearly a year for Jim to adjust but after he came off the ‘soft-landing’ course of slowly reducing h.r.t. he was happier. He was free of testosterone poisoning and free of libido. "It’s as if I’ve grown up at last," he told me. "Now we really are into the tertiary stage of our marriage. Laura, we are living happily ever after."

We are too but it is just a touch boring and predictable. Jim is safe and loving. No other woman is going to get her hooks into him and I love him as much as ever. But… Sometimes I envy those women whose husbands still have their testicles. The women’s support groups aren’t really the same… The other day Janet Dawkins did mention, in strict confidence, that there were special services for women who weren’t happy with the support groups. Would I consider…?

Certainly not. I would never do anything like that. I just let her put my name forward because I was curious. That’s all.

 

Investing a Year
by KeepingMine4Now​

Sarah and Tom have been married for 25 years. The children have all left home, they are alone now. Sarah wants a change. She starts searching the Web for an answer. Finally, she finds MakeYourManBetter.example, orders the "starter kit" and the one year subscription, and starts "The Ritual".

It all starts on a Saturday night. Sarah and Tom exchange nice slow warm-water enemas until their bowels are clean. Then they share a shower, both to get clean, and to have a chance to explore each others bodies. After the shower, they give each other full body massages. Relaxing the muscles. Stimulating the senses. Now for something new. Sarah gives Tom a prostate massage until all his goo is expelled. A little later, Tom gets an erection, they enjoy intercourse.

The Sunday morning after, the next phase. Sarah carefully cleans his sex organs, then fits Tom with a Chastity Cage. As this is something new, it takes a little effort. Sarah uses a combination of warm compresses to soften his scrotum, and loosen his balls, and cold ones to shrink his erection.

That night, and every night that week, Sarah "allows" Tom the "honor" of performing cunnilingus until she is sated. The best week of her life (so far), sexually!

The following Saturday morning, she removes the cage, setting Tom free for the day. That night, the ritual repeats.

This continues, although Tom doesn't always have an erection, so they don't always share intercourse.

After three months, Sarah adds a new wrinkle. Before removing his cage on Saturday, she squeezes his balls. At first, this hurts a lot. But as time passes, Tom seems to get used to it. Also, as time passes, his erections get weaker and smaller, and his balls seem to be shrinking. Although Tom continues to produce goo during the prostate massages, it is rarer and rarer that they have intercourse.

They talk about it, but Sarah proclaims how happy and sexually satisfied she is, and Tom is so conditioned to The Ritual, and to only having the prostate massage as a release, that he decides it's okay too.

What Tom hasn't noticed is that there is something else going on. He doesn't notice the monthly package from MakeYourManBetter.example that Sarah receives in the mail. Unlike most Chastity Cages, which have only a few sizes for the various rings, this one uses a ring around the scrotum that comes in near infinite sizes, from large enough to fit the biggest man, to almost zero. Each Sunday morning, when fitting the cage on Tom, Sarah has been using a slightly smaller ring than the week before. Each month Sarah gets a new set of smaller rings, and returns the older, larger ones.

Each week Tom's testicles get a little less blood flow, and atrophy a little more. The weekly ball squeeze is to help judge when the task has been completed. At three months, they still respond and give Tom pain. At six months, Sarah notices they are much smaller, softer, and there is much less pain. At nine months, they are hard to find. But the process is only guaranteed if you follow the ritual for an entire year, so she does.

Finally, the 52nd week. Sarah can't even find anything to squeeze, Tom's scrotum is small and empty. The cage comes off. The enemas are exchanged. The shower shared. Their bodies massaged. As usual, the prostate massage does produce a quantity of goo. But, as has been the case for the last few months, there is no penile response. No swelling. No erection. Nothing. Sarah is ecstatic. Tom is content.

Since the castration was so slow, the cutoff of hormones so gradual, Tom's body and mind adjusted gracefully. He remembers having balls, having erections, sharing intercourse, but those are distant memories. No more important than the bicycle he had as a kid, or his first car.

Sunday morning. The year is up. No need for the cage any longer. At first, Tom is upset. The conditioning is so strong that Tom misses it. But Sarah comforts Tom, telling him what a fantastic husband he has become, and how much she loves him.

They continue with the rest of the ritual for the remainder of their lives. The enema exchange. The shared shower. The full body massages. And the prostate massage. The expulsion of the goo. MakeYourManBetter.example recommends that the prostate milkings continue to ensure good health for your better man, a small price to pay for so much happiness.

And, of course, every night Sarah has as many orgasms as she wants, courtesy of Tom's now very skilled mouth!

 

Like Father, Like Son (part one)
by Yankee Masha​

One night after dinner Carolina called me into her bedroom suite. She was dressed in a kind of black shiny thing that really didn’t leave any doubt about her figure. She had black bra and panties on and long stockings with garters on her beautiful legs. And high heeled slippers, also black. Her hair was loose and falling like a cascade over her shoulders and she smelled really good. I couldn’t help getting hard.

“Honey, I have something that I want you to have that belonged to your Daddy. I think he might have wanted you to have it.” I just was fascinated by the way her hip curved on the chair when she crossed her legs.

‘Oh, yeah?” I answered.

“I told you once I hoped you would grow up to be just like him, and I still mean that.”

She looked directly at me.

“Me too,” I answered. “he was the best.”

“The very best,” she said. She opened a jewelry box and removed a shiny metal thing that kind of looked like a belt but it was way too heavy and I never saw Dad wear that.

“This is it…” she said, sadly, holding it up. “He wore it all the time. Only he couldn’t wear it on planes as it would set off the detectors…and besides he was going with my Daddy, so I knew he wouldn’t need it.”

‘I don’t understand…” I said.

She looked at me.

“I mean, I don’t know what it is…I never saw it before…what is it?”

“Well, let me put it on you and then I can explain.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“First, Benjy, You have to take off your clothes to put it on.”

I blushed like crazy. “How do you mean? I mean, Why—it’s a bracelet isn’t it?“

“Do you think this would fit around your wrist? Benjy! I told you to take off your clothes, now please do what I told you!”

“Well…”

What really bothered me was not so much being naked with her but she was going to see that I had popped a hard on as soon as she ordered me to get naked.

“Don’t hold back, Dear, I assure you I know what you have…you look just like your Daddy.”

Well, I did get naked in front of her and she looked at me appraisingly.

“Just like your dad,” she smiled sadly. “I understand you have a way with the girls too the way he did?”

“What do you mean? Dad never fooled around…”

“No, not when he married me, but he did when your mother was alive. He fooled around a lot.”

“Huh! I never knew that.” I felt better about being naked in front of her now, but still sort of humiliated. I mean she was dressed and I was naked. I felt weird. I mean I could feel the air on my bare skin all over and she was sitting there fully clothed. I felt like, a little intimidated, like she had a right to order me around.

“All right, Dear, let me put this on you.”

“Okay, what do I do?”

“Just come closer.” She pointed with her finger showing where she wanted me to stand.
I obeyed her and my big cock led the way and it bumped against her shoulder. She smiled. Then she took a letter opener and struck me against the shaft quickly and I dropped down.

“Ow! Hey!” I was a little mad.

“Sorry, Benjy, but you can’t be hard and get this on.”

“But you hit me!” I complained.

“Mind your tone or I’ll hit you much harder.” Her face had taken on a cold beauty as she glared at me. My mouth went dry and I mumbled an apology. But my cock was soft now and that was what she wanted.

She ran the thing around my waist and clicked it shut. It fit too tight. I hissed as it pinched a little of my skin. Then she latched something on the front that looked something like a metal jock strap down over my cock and used her fingers to stuff my thick dick into a small tube. Her long nails hurt as she stuffed it inside but I managed to hold still and not get in her way. The she clicked something and my dick was suddenly locked into that metal tube holding it downwards. She reached around and fondled my balls and my dick started to get hard, then it was stopped. It hurt! It was like there were sharp needles inside.

I yowled and danced around in pain then it subsided. By that time I was on the carpet on my knees holding my hands over the thing and trying to get it off. But it was strong and held me where it wanted.

“How the hell did my Dad ever wear this thing? “ I said angrily. “why did he ever want to? And what the fuck is it anyway?”

“ Benjy, let’s not use foul language or raise our voices here. Remember I am now your mother and you still are underage, so I’m responsible for you. I expect your obedience
and respect in all matters”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, your Daddy didn’t want to wear it at first, but I told him that he was now my man and I wasn’t going to have him running around with other girls. I figured I could give him all he needed.”

“Well, you can’t give me anything!” I pointed out.

“Yes, Dear, but I can’t have you operating on your own and you’re going to need to learn that your Father was too liberal with you. I want you to learn to heel and obey and be submissive. Otherwise I can’t be totally comfortable in my house. If you think you’re going to test the limits I will have you sent to a military boy’s school where the teachers are less loving that I am.”

She looked at me.

“You really do look so much like him.” She said. She ordered me to sit on the floor in front of her with my legs spread wide, and she put her foot against my encased dick.

“Well, you don’t expect me to wear this crazy thing do you?”

“Yes, Dear, you will wear it, and in fact you will have no choice since I am the only one who knows how to open it.”

“But…”

“Yes, dear?” She reached down and stroked my face.

“But –everything! I can’t have sex with this on…”

“That’s right, Dear, no sex at all.”

“But I’ll go nuts!”

She laughed and poured some wine into her glass.

“Well, about your nuts…we’ll have to discuss that matter too. Your father was so devoted. Let me show you something he gave me as a wedding gift.”

She got up and moved in that classy sexy walk of hers over to a cabinet and unlocked it. She removed a sealed glass jar, placed it on a table and called me over. It was hard to move with this thing between my legs and trapping my waist so tight. I kind of hobbled over feeling pretty ridiculous. She smiled at my discomfort.

“Your father was like that at first too,” she noted. She reached over and placed her long fingernails behind my balls again and felt around. I immediately began to get hard, and real fast the pain shot through my boner and it subsided. I sobbed. I wanted to get hard again. She reached around and slapped my ass.

“Now pay attention! Kneel and keep your back straight like a man.”

I obeyed her. I never obeyed anyone, but she had an air that made me shut up and listen.

“Look in this jar,” she said. I did. There were some grayish things suspended in a murky liquid. I kept looking wondering what I was looking at.

“These are your father’s balls,” she said and looked right at me. I felt a chill shiver through me. I thought, “I’m gonna be sick.”

“What do you mean? Did you have them…like saved after he died?”

“No, dear, I had them taken off him when we were first married. He had a real problem wanting other women and keeping his dick in his pants.”

I just stared at her.

 

Like Father, Like Son (part two)
by Yankee Masha​

“Let me show you…” She picked up a remote control and aimed it at her big TV set. The blue screen flashed on and another button started a tape in the VCR.

There was a big man bent over a kind of metal saw horse, with his big legs spread out wide and held in metal cuffs. He was bent way over and his arms spread and cuffed to the floor. He was a big guy like –Man! It was my father! Naked, his meaty body, that ex-football player beef bent over and locked down with his big balls dangling between his legs. The camera got all angles. When it got to his front his head looked up and he was worried.

“Please, Carolina, Honey, let’s get me out of this thing. I changed my mind.”

The camera panned up to Carolina, standing dressed in a suit and holding a vicious looking little riding whip.

She went around and brought it down across his big ass a few times and the whip cracks sounded like rifle shots.

Dad yowled in pain, begging her to stop, promising to be good.

Carolina was looking at another man. And the camera panned over to him. Thickset under his black shirt and pants, with real black hair and a goatee and glasses. He looked like a muscular professor. I kind of recognized him from the college, so maybe he really was.

“I don’t have much time, Carolina,” he said.

“Let’s get it over with then,” she said politely.

Dad started to carry on again.

“No! Please! Carolina…Carolina, please listen…I don’t want to. Give me another chance, I can control it, I promise. Please, Honey, please?”

They both ignored him.

“Do you want me to give him a shot to calm him down?” the Professor asked.

“No, Victor, he needs to feel it, I think.”

Victor looked like he wasn’t sure but would do what she wanted anyway.

‘Hope you’re right, Carolina.”

“Victor!” Dad shouted. “Please, don’t! Please!” Dad’s deep voice was hoarse from begging.

“Can you make him calm down?” Victor said to Carolina, like he was annoyed listening to Dad carrying on so loud.

Carolina went to Dad in front and slashed the whip down across his big neck.

“I want you to keep quiet, Ben,” she said seriously. “there’s no reason you should be given another chance. This will keep you more docile and make you realize who those balls and cock belong to.” Then she brought the whip down across the small of his back and worked down across his ass cheeks hard -- real hard – until he had some bloody welts raising across his ass. I looked at her sitting there. You’d never think she could be that cruel to my Dad. She was staring at me. I dropped my eyes. Man, I hoped she wasn’t going to whip me like that! I started getting hard and again it got stopped.
She nodded for me to watch the TV.

The professor had this metal contraption. He loaded it with some kind of rubber band. He reached between Dad’s legs and pulled down on the big eggs hanging there. He looked at Carolina. Dad started to blubber like a baby.

“Go ahead,” she said to the Professor.

The man opened his pants and let them fall and stepped out of them. He had thick hairy muscular legs and a thick cock. He reached a finger and stuck it right up dad’s ass, and Dad yowled in a begging pleading voice.

“Oh, not that! Please, not that too!”

The man spit on his finger and shoved it into the ring of Dad’s hairy asshole and worked it around while Dad busted out crying in humiliation. Then he took it out and without any warning stuck his dick head against Dad’s ass crack and pushed – hard --all the way in. Then he started to pump in and out making Dad howl in pain and embarrassment. He was taking it slow too, reaming him out good, stretching his ass hole every which way. Dad was locked down too tight to move away. He had to take it, whatever the man wanted to do, he just had to go through it.

Carolina reached down between Victor’s legs and fondled his big hairy balls awhile and the man got more aroused and closed his eyes as he enjoyed Dad’s hole to the max. Then she reached further in and whoever had the camera went down so we could see her strong smooth hand working Dad’s cock. For all his protest, he was hard as a rock, the big head sticking almost all the way out of his foreskin. She skinned him back hard and the skin split and some blood ran out. I knew Dad’s foreskin was too tight all his life. The Professor yelled out and Carolina reached around and shoved her finger right up his ass! Both men shot at the same time then, the Professor pushing deep into dad’s bung hole and Dad just letting loose with a thick string of white cream that landed on his own hairy belly again and again.

Then he kind of collapsed sobbing in deep heaving sounds while the Professor’s sweat dropped down on his back. The man pulled out, his softening dick stretching out, held in Dad’s tight hole. Then the head popped out.

“Alright?” Carolina said in a business-like way.

The Professor pulled up his pants and went over to get a black case. He took the contraption and opened it and then wrapped dad’s big scrotum in the rubber band tight. Dad screamed hoarsely.

“No, Carolina! NO!”

They ignored him. Victor snapped another band higher up and Dad screamed again loud and long. He kept carrying on and wriggling his ass as if trying to get away from the things strangling his balls. They waited awhile for the balls to get dark red, and had a drink with each other and chatted while Dad writhed around as much as his bonds would allow him. Victor snapped a ball gag onto Dad’s mouth to shut him up and they finished their drinks. Soon Dad’s big balls were getting dark red.

The Professor opened his little case and removed a shiny little knife. He remembered something and put it back and took out a small curved knife. He showed it to Carolina and she nodded in approval as if she’d seen it before.

He grasped Dad’s balls. It was a big handful. He pulled them down and twisted them around in a torque motion. Dad let out a high pitched scream into his gag. He was shaking his head back and forth as the man continued torturing his balls.

Then the Professor placed the blade at the back of the scrotum, and stretched the balls down to give himself more space. Dad’s big muscles were tensed so tight you could see the veins under the fat and hair. He was covered with sweat. His toes were stretching out as far as he could on either side. But his dick was still thick and hard down there.

The man moved the blade back and forth as if slicing a filet of meat. Dad started making muffled noises repetitively, “No, no, no, don’t, don’t -- DON’T!”
But he had no say in the matter. He’d lost his rights through disobedience. They ignored him. The blade moved back and forth, cutting slowly, carefully to cut away Dad’s prize jewels, leaving me his only child.

I began to get hard and this time it hurt like hell as the metal tube wouldn’t give and I couldn’t get soft.

“Oh, please, don’t make me watch this, Carolina…please.”

She just frowned slightly. But she took the hard handle of her whip and hit me hard on the metal tube, which relieved my uncontrollable erection. I yelped in pain, but it worked. I was wet inside there, but I was going down fast.. She ordered me to watch the TV and knocked the back of my head with the handle. It hurt! But I shut up and watched.

The professor made a sudden move and tried to pull the knife through, but Dad’s balls were tough and he needed to yank twice more to slice through the twisted bag and cords.

But it was done. It was all done. Dad stopped his carrying on and slumped down in his bonds. And the tape stopped and the blue screen came back on the screen.

 

Like Father, Like Son (part three)
by Yankee Masha​

I looked at Carolina.

“You aren’t going to do that to me?” It was more a plea than a question.

“Well, I would hate to. If you can learn to control yourself with the tube on, then for certain times I’ll allow you out periodically to see how you fare without it. If you can do that, I’ll let you keep your balls. If not, I’ll have to take them off.”

“But…?”

“Yes, Dear?” She leaned forward and stroked my hair. I was sweating there on my knees, naked before her.

“I remember seeing Dad before he died. He still had his balls.”

“Oh, that…no, after he healed up I had some prosthetic balls inserted in what was left of his scrotum. I was rather stupid. We should have just removed the balls without taking the sac.” She laughed. “We had to do some stretching so we could put in the new balls…and of course testosterone injections kept him alive. He probably didn’t need to live in the tube, but I liked it. I taught him to service me orally instead of allowing him to use his peepee. You know a man that age doesn’t really lose much. He was able to get erect, but wasn’t driven like before. But I wanted him under control. It made him more obedient, more loving and solicitous to me. But I should have let him keep the whole scrotum. It embarrassed him to have those fake balls set so high up against his dick.”

I remembered now – I didn’t notice it before, but she was right. Dad’s balls did hang low like mine before he married her. He must have kept his dick hidden from me when we showered after playing tennis or golf.

I began to cry then. I was scared. I was at the mercy of this woman now. She was legally my mother, and could for some time control me as she saw fit. I already wasn’t allowed to run around as much as before. I wondered what she was going to do to me. I had to listen to her or lose my balls.

“Come here, Dear,” she said. Placing her legs open. I obediently got between her beautiful legs and she pulled my head down to place my mouth right there, in that hairy narrow clit of hers, now wet from watching the tape. She closed her thighs around my head and crossed her ankles over my back and I was held there. I began to lick and tongue her wet slit, feeling the hard nub of her clit under my tongue. I began to harden, but again – well, you know. I felt I had to show her how good a boy I could be and kissed and made love to her hole all evening, not paying attention to my insistent prick which now was imprisoned in its cell.

Carolina spasmed as I brought her to ecstasy. “You know, Dear, when – I mean if – I take your balls off, we won’t do it that way. We’ll use a different technique. Okay?”

 

No Relief
by LostInHere​

I was nervous. I looked down and saw the chastity device attached to my genitals. I tried to remove it, but nothing happened. My skin stretched, but did nothing to free my excited member. A wave of excitement swept over me and my penis tried against all odds to get free from its prison. There was so much pressure now that it started to hurt. Not like getting a cut, not like scraping your knee. It’s hard to describe how restricting blood flow that would normally fill a few inches of skin feels like, but, it isn’t exactly a comfortable feeling.

“What’s it doing now?” she asked.

“Trying to get hard,” I replied. I looked down again at the sorry sight. Here I was, naked, clean shaven, without a single hair left from puberty down there. With a chastity device between my legs. I was no longer a proud male, able to have an erection to please my mate at whim. I could not even go into a public shower with pride ever again. I could not masturbate. I cannot have sex, not even an erection, without getting this thing off first.

“And these are the keys?” she asked. I nodded. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking them over carefully.

“I’m pretty sure,” I replied.

“But it’s been so long,” she insisted.

“I remember how they look like. They’ll fit.”

“Were they always this color?” she asked as she got down on her knees to examine my device. “My balls?” I asked, curiously. “No, the keys. They’re this kind of brown, rusty color. I hope we didn’t leave them in the safe for too long.”

“You wanted me to go without for seven years,” I reminded. “You’ve told me that there was no guarantee that the keys would still work, and I’ve asked you to make sure that they would!” I pleaded.

“And I said not to worry about it, because I could make you wait another year!” she snapped. I stood there silently. Her neck tightened up, her breathing became heavier and her focus narrowed. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I hope so,” she exclaimed.

She took the first key and slowly put it inside the keyhole. She looked up at me, I down at her, and we both looked worried. Worried that after seven years without my penis, we might lose what we had come to love. Worried that she might lose frequent orgasms and that I might become more selfish.

“Are you sure you don’t want Ryan here for this?” I asked. Ryan was her lover, her “substitute” when it came to male genitals. He was also required to wear a chastity belt, because she felt that men were selfish pigs who deserved to be locked up, but he was allowed out frequently for sex. “He said that he wanted me to do this alone,” she replied, her thoughts slowly drifting away to his big member. We already knew that he was bigger than me, in every category. He was two inches longer, thicker, had bigger nuts, and could last a whole lot longer than I could ever dream of. Even without the chastity device, I couldn’t feel like much of a man around him.

She took the key in her hand and stared at it. She withdrew it and stood up. “I can’t do it,” she sighed. “Yes, you can!” I cried. Seven years without even touching my penis and she can’t turn a bloody key? I am trying to get a raging hard-on, probably the hardest I’ll ever have, and she won’t let me? “It would ruin too much,” she said. “I can’t let us go back to the way things were.” She put the keys down on the table, took out a hammer and started to smash at them furiously. I stood back, in horror. I dared not go stop her, lest she beat me with the hammer as well. I watched as she slowly twisted each key enough to where I knew they wouldn’t work properly.

“Let’s try that again now,” she said. She took all three keys and tried opening the padlock with them. Nothing. My chances of freedom were completely ruined by this woman!

Suddenly, the light dawned on me.

“That was Ryan’s idea.”

She looked at me, silently. It was true. He didn’t want there to be any reason she should ever leave him, so he wanted her to destroy the keys before she even pretended to unlock me. She thought it was too cruel, but in the end, couldn’t think to disappoint him.

I was furious. So I stormed off to the tool shed to do what I thought about doing many times over these past few years. I took a pair of wire cutters and I snapped the padlock right off. I was right about to remove the tube when my wife came storming up.

“If you want to live in this house, you will leave that tube on,” she demanded. “You can have an erection, but you will have to find your own place, starting now.” “What about my clothes?” I asked. My wife was shocked that I would even consider having an erection. “You’d have to go out on to the streets naked,” she warned. I looked in her eyes and could tell that she was serious. I don’t know if it was weakness, or sanity, but I put my hands to my side. I walked inside the house with her and she led me to the bedroom.

She locked my hands and ankles in restraints and called Ryan. Ryan, who is very good with tools, owns a welder. “He was going to weld the padlock shut,” she said. “But I guess the unit itself will have to do.”

It has now been twelve years since I was put into this chastity device. She has left Ryan for a much younger stud, who is very capable of bringing her to orgasm naturally. I am left to use my tongue and vibrator. My wife said that she will someday remove the chastity device. However, to do that, she will need to cut my balls off. And she won’t give me hormones to let me stay a man, so I won’t get any erections that way. She’s also figured out a way where to get the device off, I get to keep my balls but I lose my penis. I cannot keep it all, she said. I will never be allowed to have an erection again. And apart from regular milkings, I will never be allowed to ejaculate again, much less orgasm.

My wife makes me go to the gym to stay in shape. I am required to use the public showers. Frequently I get questions about what I have around my penis. I tell them that I gave my penis to my wife twelve years ago and she hasn’t needed it since. They asks how it comes off, and I have to explain that since I was selfish enough to demand an erection, my wife’s lover welded the unit shut so it cannot come off. Everyone else gets hard at the sight and cums all over me. They make me suck their dicks sometimes, and sometimes gang rape the “sissy boy.” But I go to the showers to please my wife. Who else would take me in? A sexless slave with a chastity device welded in place for the rest of my life.

I can only imagine how much wore the torment would be if I got my balls or penis cut off…

 

Summer Schooling (part one)
author unknown​

"Well Barb, you were right, it is just getting worse", Carol admitted as she talked with her sister on the phone. "I caught him at it again just this morning. I should have listened to you last year, but now I'm afraid it's too late."

"Not really", replied Barbara. "Depending on far you want to go, it's really never too late."

Carol had called her sister Barbara more for moral support than for anything else because of the growing problems with her son Paul. Both Carol and Barbara had been widowed on the same day four years ago when their husbands had drowned in a boating accident while on a fishing trip. Carol had been left with 10 year old Paul and his 8 year old sister, Jean. Barbara had been left with three children , James at 11 years old, and two girls, Britanny and Dierdre, at 14 and 15 years of age respectively.

Things had been easier for Barbara, as she had the two older daughters. Barbara was also a rather dominant woman, and had grown ever more so in the ensuing years. Britanny and Dierdre had followed Barbara's lead, and found they too believed in the principles of the Female Dominant lifestyle. Her son James had consequently been raised in a militantly feminist environment, constantly being supervised and corrected by all three females.

For Carol, things were getting out of hand. Paul had just turned 14 and was turning from an unruly boy, into an undisciplined, rude young man. He had recently started puberty, and had discovered the pleasures of masturbation.

Now, he was doing it constantly. Carol had tried to discipline him, but Paul was now beyond any fear of what Carol might do. To make matters worse, he had begun to spy on his younger sister Jean when she was in the bathroom or dressing in her bedroom. Carol had just caught him again this morning, peeking through the keyhole in the bathroom.

Barbara said, "I was having similar problems with James when he started puberty. Of course, he never tried to spy on his sisters or anything like that; he knew the consequences would have been severe."

"But he did go through a short period when he couldn't seem to keep his hands off his penis. I put a stop to that, at least around the house, by getting a locking genital cage for him. He has to have it removed for school, but it goes right back on the minute he gets home. As soon as he walks in the door, he has to take off his school clothes and I lock them away. Then his penis and ball cage gets locked back on. In the house, we only let him wear a pair of panties."

"If he has to work outside in the gardens or the lawn, I generally make him go naked except for a straw hat, shower clogs, and his penis cage. We found that yard and garden work was too hard on panties, and making him go completely naked has had a very humbling effect on him. Since we live so far out of the way, there's no chance of anyone ever seeing him"

"I've decided to enroll him in a home study course next year, so he won't be going back to public school. As soon as he turns 17, he's going to drop school entirely for other, more pertinent education right here. My plans for his future don't include a need for a high school diploma or any further formal schooling. Everything he's going to need to know, he'll get right here."

"Between me and his sisters, he's kept on a very short leash. He has a very structured life around here, and we employ some rather drastic conditions to keep him firmly in his place."

"It all sounds very effective", said Carol. "I wish I could have done the same. Maybe I wouldn't be having all these problems now."

"Well", said Barbara, "You know that school will be out in another week and Paul will have the whole summer off. You could send him out here. I can guarantee that in three months, he will be a completely different boy."

Carol jumped at this offer and said, "Would you really be willing to take him?" Barbara said, "Yes, but only on one condition. I must have an absolutely free hand to use any method I see fit to bring about the desired changes in Paul. If you can't agree to this, then I can't take him."

Carol said that she had no problems with anything Barbara might decide on; she was only interested in getting Paul firmly back under control.

"You do realize", said Barbara, "that Paul has been out of control so long, we will have to employ some drastic measures to break and condition him to unquestioning obedience. I can pretty much guarantee that he will be in for some very strict and very painful physical discipline and punishment before he finally sees the error of his ways. I also have a rather radical, 'special' plan for James this summer that I don't want to go into right now. But, I can say that it will improve him as far as ensuring he remains compliant and obedient, and it will definitely keep his mind off sex and masturbation."

"I don't care what you have to do", said Carol. "I just want him back under control, and I don't care what it takes."

"Okay then, why don't you, Paul, and Jean come out to visit us as soon as school lets out for the summer. Then, you and Jean can leave anytime you're ready and we'll take care of Paul. Don't pack a whole lot of clothes and things for him, he won't be needing much unless I have to take him into town."

They talked some more and finalized their plan, and Carol hung up. The more she thought about it, the better she liked the idea. With his recent lying and disobedience, Paul was really out of hand; Barbara was just the one to bring him back firmly in line.

Nine days later, Carol, Paul, and Jean arrived at the airport in a southern California town. Barbara had rural place not so far from town as to be inconvenient, but far enough to be relatively private. The house was set on 10 acres of mostly wooded land, but she had a fine vegetable and flower garden behind the house. The whole property was surrounded by a high chain-link fence, and Barbara had never been bothered by trespassers.

They were met at the airport by Barbara and her daughters, James had been left home. The drive back to the house went quickly, and it wasn't long before they entered through the gate, drove down the gravel driveway, and finally pulled up in the carport. Carol asked Paul to get their bags from the trunk, but he pretended he didn't hear, and quickly disappeared around the side of the house.

"See what I mean", said Carol. "I see perfectly", said Barbara. "But all that will change very, very quickly I can assure you, once we get a few things straightened out."

In the house, Paul met his cousin James, who was dressed in casual clothes in preparation for Carol's and Paul's visit. James had been coached not to let on to Paul what was in store for him. But after only a few minutes talking together, James said, "Man, you are in for some tough times around here if you don't get your act together."

"What do you mean?", demanded Paul.

"Nothing that you won't find out about soon enough", said James.

 

Summer Schooling (part two)
author unknown​

Then they boys heard themselves being called by Barbara, and James jumped up and hurried out. Paul followed lazily, wondering what was up with his weird cousin. When he finally got to the kitchen where Barbara, Carol, Britanny, and Dierdre waited, his aunt told him to sit down. "We have to get a few things straight around here Paul", she said. "In this house, boys jump when they are called, and they do exactly what they are told, when they are told. Do you understand that?"

Paul looked at her as if she was crazy, and opened his mouth to say just that. Suddenly, he found himself on the floor with stars circling in his vision. Aunt Barbara had backhanded him right out of his chair. Britanny and Dierdre grabbed him and pulled him back up into his chair, and Paul wassurprised and unnerved at the strength of the girls. "Let's try this again Paul", said Barbara.

"You may not know it, but you're here for the whole summer. Carol is fed up with your snotty attitude, your peeking at your younger sister Jean, and your preoccupation with playing with your silly little penis."

Paul looked at Carol in dismay and shock. "Mom!, what have you been telling her?"

Barbara broke in, "That doesn't matter, what does matter is that you're going to learn how to behave properly. This is going to be a very educational summer for you."

"Oh yeah", said Paul. "Well you can just forget about it, I'm not staying."

"You're staying Paul, make no mistake about that. And make no mistake about changing your ways either. You may think you're pretty hot stuff back home, but out here you are going to find out different. And right now is as good a time as any to begin your education."

"Britanny, show Paul what he can expect if he gives us any trouble at all."

Suddenly, Paul found himself hauled out of his chair, spun around, and thrown to the floor. In a second, Britanny was astride him, pinning his arms. Angry, he tried to throw her off him, but she wasn't to be moved.

Paul tried with all his might to free his arms, but found to his shock that she was actually stronger than he was. She let him up, and he tried to punch her. Once again, he found himself on the floor with stars dancing in his vision. Britanny had neatly blocked his punch, and floored him with one of her own.

"Okay Britanny, that's enough", said Barbara. "Dierdre, why don't you continue with Paul's education?"

She pulled him to his feet, and to Paul's dismay, Dierdre was as strong and quick as her older sister. His vain attempts to strike her were completely ineffective, and he was soon on the floor again with his arm twisted up behind his back.

Barbara said, "That's just a small sample. Both girls and myself have taken years of self-defense courses and are proficient in boxing and karate. If you ever try to hit one of us in the future, or fail to do what you're told, you'll regret the day you were born...is that clear?"

Trying to keep from crying in shame and frustration, Paul mumbled his assent.

"What's that?... I can't hear you", said Barbara. "Say it out loud for everyone to hear."

Paul again said that he understood and would do what he was told.

"That's better", said Barbara. "Dierdre, why don't you go get one of the collars that we used to put on James before he was trained?" She returned with a box and Barbara took out a thick collar of leather with a metal backing band. There was a metal canister on one side, and the whole thing could be locked on with two metal loops through which a lock could be applied. Barbara told him not to move, put the collar around his neck, and applied a lock.

"Now Paul, you just come outside and follow me." They all got up and walked down the long driveway and approached the gate. Suddenly, Paul felt a tingling in his neck under the collar. As they got nearer to the gate, the tingling became an uncomfortable buzz. A few steps more, and it turned into a painful shock. He began to cry out and tried to tear the collar from his neck, but the device was impossible to remove. Paul stumbled back from the gate, and found that the farther he got, the lesser the shock he received until he was about thirty feet away, when it went away completely.

Barbara explained, "There is a buried wire around the whole place at the fence. The wire is a transmitter and is tuned to a receiver in the collar. When the collar approaches the wire, it activates a shock box in the canister, the closer the collar gets to the wire, the worse the shock. You didn't get within 15 feet; if you had, the pain would have been much worse. You had better remember this if nothing else - if you get too close, you will lose consciousness. If you try to run away or sneak off the grounds, you're going to be in serious danger."

"So go ahead, just try it anywhere along the property line you like. You'll find out for yourself how futile it is to try to leave here with that collar on. And that collar isn't coming off without a cutting torch, which I doubt you will find around here. It's hardened steel and can't be cut with a hacksaw."

"Now that we have that settled, let's go back to the house and learn a few more things about your stay with us."

Back in the kitchen, Paul was ordered to sit in a chair. "In addition to the wire around the property activating your collar, we all also have hand-held units capable of the same thing." She showed him a miniature box with a pull-up antenna. "If any of us pushes the button on our control box like this....".

Paul instantly found himself paralyzed with agonizing pain. He couldn't breathe or move, and everything was going gray when it suddenly stopped.

"Oh please, please don't do that again." Paul sobbed. "I'll do anything you say, I promise, just please don't do that again."

"We'll see", said Barbara. "Now for some other facts of life around here. As I said before, you will do exactly what you are told to do, when you are told to do it. There will be no backtalk and no complaining. Until you learn your manners, you will not speak unless spoken to. If you have to say something, you will raise your hand to ask permission to speak. Is that clear?

Paul nodded his head and said that he understood.

 

Summer Schooling (part three)
author unknown
​

Barbara continued, "Like my own son James, you are going to learn not to play with your penis, and heaven help you if you are ever caught peeking at Britanny or Dierdre. In addition to the beating either or both will give you on the spot, your collar will also be used. Since no one has the time or the inclination to watch you 24 hours a day to see if you're playing with yourself, you're going to have to wear a locking device to prevent that. James has been wearing one except while at school for over two years now."

"We got these from a company is California, and they work very well." From a box, she took out a rounded metal wire-mesh cage. It was hinged at the front, and opened into two halves. The other end had a round opening that fit over and locked completely around the genitals. Once closed and locked, the opening was far too small to allow it to be pulled off the penis and scrotum without some serious damage to the testicles.

"Now, take off your clothes", Barbara ordered. Paul's mouth dropped open in stunned surprise, and he almost began to protest when Barbara held up her control box. Paul looked in panic to Carol, but she just said, "It's your own fault you're in this situation Paul, so don't look at me. You heard your Aunt Barbara, so you'd better get a move on."

Paul couldn't believe it. Here he was surrounded by His aunt Barbara, his mother, his cousins, and even his own little sister, and he was being told to undress in front of them all. He looked again at Barbara, and could see that she was just about to press the button. He got to his feet, and now crying with shame and frustration, he began to undress. He took off his shoes and socks, unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, and then unbuckled his belt. He glanced at Barbara again, but saw there was no relenting as she held the shock box poised. Paul unzipped his pants, pushed them down, and stepped out of them.

Now he stood only in his white briefs, and Barbara said, "I ordered you to take off your clothes and I meant all of them; get those underpants off right now!"

Paul was crying and blushing from head to toe as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and began to push them down. His younger sister Jean began to giggle and covered her mouth with her hands as Paul stepped out of his underwear. He had just started puberty and his penis and testicles were still only little more than boy-sized.

Barbara said, "I don't know why boys make such a big thing of it when it comes to undressing in front of women; we've seen it all before, and you don't have much of anything to hide in the first place."

She took up the open cage and positioned it over Paul's genitals. It was a snug fit, and when she closed it and locked it on, Paul's penis and testicles were encased in the rounded metal mesh prison. It was tight enough and the mesh was fine enough that it would prevent him from getting a full erection or from touching his penis. Barbara explained that he could still urinate through the open mesh, but he would have to sit to do it or he would make a mess.

She said that each night, either she or one of the girls would supervise him when he took his bath. The cage would be removed so he could wash himself, but it would go right back on after he dried off.

Barbara told Dierdre to gather up Paul's clothes and take them away. She told Carol that he would follow the same dress requirements as James.

"Speaking of James, tell him to get out here and take off those clothes he's wearing."

James arrived quickly and began to undress. In just a moment, he was down to just his pants. He undid them and slid them off, and Carol and Jean saw that he was wearing panties underneath. They were sheer, and did nothing to hide the large rounded bulge of his own locking cage in front. Dierdre came back and handed Barbara a pair of panties for Paul.

She held them open, and motioned for him to step into them. She pulled them
up his legs and over his bottom, up to his waist. His cage made a large visible bulge in front; Barbara patted it and said "that's that."

 

Summer Schooling (part four)
author unknown​

During the next two days, Paul learned that all the females in the house were to be addressed with the title "Ms." If required to reply, it was "Yes Ms. Barbara, or yes Ms. Carol, or yes Ms. Dierdre, Britanny, or Jean." It was this last that galled him the most; having to address his little sister like that. It also galled him that any of them could and did order him around as they pleased. He was used as their houseboy the whole time.

He was still very self-conscious about having to go around only in panties, especially with the clearly visible bulge of his genital cage. He had wanted to die the first night that Britanny had marched him up to the bathroom to take a bath before bedtime. He had to take off his panties and stand there while she unlocked and removed his genital cage.

She carried a paddle with her and as soon as she removed the cage, Paul found out why. As the cage came off, he started to get an erection. She said "none of that", and spun him around. With machine gun-rapidity, she administered a dozen burning swats to Paul's bare behind. The pain was shocking and his penis wilted like a punctured balloon. She told him to get in the tub and fill it, wash himself, and get out.

Britanny sat on a stool, reading a magazine while Paul washed. She told him to make sure he cleaned off his penis and scrotum as he had been urinating through the mesh cage and no doubt smelled. She had him wash the cage, and then get out and dry off. As soon as he was dry, she fitted the cage back around his penis and testicles, closed it, and applied the lock. She gave him a clean pair of panties, and he and James were allowed to watch TV for a while before bedtime.

After they had been there a week, Barbara said to Carol, "Do you remember what I told you when we first started discussing bringing Paul out here? I mentioned a radical, 'special' plan I had in mind for James this summer. Well, I've decided to go ahead, and it's all set up for tomorrow morning."

Carol was curious, and asked what it was all about.

Barbara said, "By now, you must know that the basics of training boys to be better persons is simply a matter of keeping their natural tendencies to aggressiveness, false pride, arrogance, and impatience under strict control, and of strictly curbing their over-active preoccupation with sex. We can accomplish this artificially as we have done with Paul through strict discipline, punishment, and psychological conditioning, and by physically restricting his access to his genitals. But I want to move James beyond all that. After careful consideration and discussion with others who have already used this procedure, I've come to the conclusion that it will be best for James."

"So, what exactly is this magical procedure?" asked Carol.

"It's very simple, I'm going to have him neutered."

"Neutered!", said Carol, "you mean like in having his testicles cut off, castrated?"

"That's exactly what I mean", said Barbara. "You're more than welcome to see how it's done if you want. The woman coming tomorrow has a lot of experience in this. She has all the equipment and supplies necessary to do a safe, professional job with minimal chance of adverse side affects or infection. The girls and I have already set up a space in the cellar. Naturally, I haven't told James about any of this; it would only cause him needless worry and anxiety."

"I have decided that James will be better off under the eventual control of a strict woman who will keep him as her permanent house-servant and as her personal slave. After we get this little operation over with and he heals up, I've arranged for a professional mistress to come in and teach him the fine points of serving a woman orally, manually, and with various toys; any way except with his penis. It's obvious that he won't be able to do much with that after he loses his testicles. After the initial training by the professional mistress, Britanny and Dierdre will give him lots of practice until it time for him to leave us."

Carol was shocked, but she was also strangely attracted by the sheer simplicity of the plan. No longer would James require a locking genital cage; castration would quickly put an end to his sex drive as well as his sexual capability. And, castration was well known for its ability to calm male animals and make them more tractable and easily trained.

Barbara continued, "I already have someone in mind to take him over once he's trained. She is the oldest daughter of a friend of mine, and at 24 years old, would be well able to maintain control of James. She has already seen him several times when she and her mother have visited. She says she would be more than willing to take him on a permanent basis once he leaves schooling when he reaches 17."

Carol had too much on her mind for her to think about it at the moment. She was too busy trying to imagine what it was going to be like seeing a young boy like James having his budding masculinity cut from him in mid-flower.

Suddenly, she realized that she was very interested in seeing this happen.

As planned, the woman arrived early and Barbara let her in. She was taken down to the cellar and showed the preparations that had been made. She said everything was fine, and to make sure they got young James down there before he ate anything this morning. She gave Barbara a syringe loaded with a tranquilizer that would make it much easier on the boy. All she had to do was inject it into his buttocks. Barbara said that would be no problem.

James was still sleeping when she went into his room, and Paul was also still asleep on the guest bed. Quietly, she went over to James and gently pushed down his panties over his hip. Then she quickly inserted the needle and injected the contents. He awoke slowly at the needle stick, but Barbara was already done by the time he woke up fully. Barbara told him to get up and follow her; she had something she wanted him to do.

Obediently, he followed her down to the cellar where the woman and Carol waited. Still sleepy, and with the tranquilizer now starting to take effect, they had no problem laying him out on the low coffee table that had been prepared. As a precaution, the woman tied his wrists together under the table and then had Barbara slip off his panties. She tied his ankles down to the table legs, and had Barbara remove his genital cage.

As the woman washed his genitals, James began to waken again and asked what was going on. Barbara pushed him back down and told him to go to sleep.

The tranquilizer was a powerful sedative, and Paul was soon lightly snoring again. The woman then trimmed Paul's pubic hair and began to shave his groin with a safety razor. Soon, he was as bald as a 10 year old. She passed a piece of cord under him and knotted it into a belt around his hips.

Then she tied a length of string around the head of his penis, pulled it up flat against his belly, and tied it to the cord around his hips. This would hold his penis up out of the way of what was to come.

 

Summer Schooling (part five)
author unknown​

She took up prepared syringes of anesthetic and began to inject Paul's scrotum in a line down the front right side. After a moment, she put on a pair of gloves and took up a scalpel. Deftly, she began to cut into Paul's scrotum down the line of injections. He moaned a few times, but did not wake up. She cut through layer by layer until she had freed the boy's right testicle from the underlying muscle layer, membranes, and connective tissue.

Then she reached into the opening with a pair of long-nosed forceps and grasped the cord where it joined the testicle. Then, she slowly pulled it out of the incision. She locked the handles of the forceps together and let the testicle and forceps dangle freely at the end of the cord. Then she injected the cord at the point where it emerged from the incision. Using a curved needle and suture, she pierced the cord and began to tie it off. She made multiple wraps to prevent slipping, and then knotted it.

She picked up the forceps with the dangling testicle and stretched it out. Then she took up a pair of small sharp scissors and positioned the open blades over the cord, just down from the tied-off point. She closed the handles and James' right testicle was severed from him. She dropped the testicle into a jar of formalin and used more sutures to begin closing the incision.

When she had closed the inner and outer layers of tissue, she again picked up the syringe and began to repeat the process on the left side of James' scrotum. In just a few minutes, his left testicle joined its twin in the formalin jar. James was cleaned up and a gauze bandage was taped over his incisions. He was untied, and given another shot to partially counteract the effect of the tranquilizer.

Slowly he came around and was helped to his feet by Barbara and Carol. Between them, they managed to get him back upstairs and to his room. Paul woke up and Carol told him what had been done to James. He listened with horror and felt his own testicles try to crawl back up inside him, but his cage prevented that. Carol told him to come over and look at James. He did so and felt a rush of nausea as he saw the white patch of gauze taped over his cousin's now flat and empty scrotum.

James went into a period of extended crying when he found what had been done to him. The woman said this was normal, and he would probably be depressed for some time. But, she said, his male hormone level would also drop very quickly and he would feel much better once that happened. The woman instructed Barbara on how to remove James' stitches in 10 days and left a small pair of scissors and tweezers. She also gave Barbara some anti-depressant medication to help and said to call her if there were any complications.

Carol said that since the whole summer was left before Paul and Jean had to return to school, they would stay and visit for a few weeks. She was quite interested in how James would turn out.

Ten days later, Barbara had the thoroughly embarrassed James standing naked before everyone as she used the small pointed scissors to cut the individual sutures in his scrotum. Then she used the tweezers to remove each thread. He winced and fidgeted as each tiny strand was plucked out, but it was finally done. Most of the puffiness had gone by this time, as well as the redness. They could all see that his scrotum was already beginning to rapidly shrink-up underneath him. Carol said that in a month or two more, one would probably not be able to tell he had ever had one.

The anti-depressants helped a lot, and James gradually got over his blues. In only two weeks, his hormone level had plummeted to zero and he no longer had thoughts about sex anymore. He realized that it wasn't going to be anywhere near as bad as he had thought it would be. In fact, it might not be bad at all.

One evening after they went to bed, James said to Paul, "You better learn the ropes real fast. You haven't been really punished yet, but it's probably just a matter of time. They're going to get stricter and stricter, especially after your mom and sister leave."

Paul relied, "That's what I'm afraid of. I hate all this obedience stuff and I'm really getting frustrated with this damn cage I have to wear; I haven't been able to jerk off since I got here."

James just laughed dryly and said, "You'd better just forget all about that, because as long as you're here, you won't get a chance. And if you're not real careful, you could end up like me."