More Stories from the Eunuch Archive

Some more stories from the old Eunuch Archive:

Fucking Tables of the Past (The Fifth Letter) by Nathan - To celebrate his 20th birthday, the museum's new night watchman decides to play with one of the antiques . . .

The Ring by Zipper - Getting "ringed" is a family tradition . . . and a good way to impress the girls!

Fucking Day by Nathan - Time to join the real world! After the exam, you'll either leave happily married . . . or freshly castrated

Learning to Love My Penectomy by Anonymous - He'd dreaded the tradition all his life. But to marry a traditional girl, he'll have to accept it. Is true love worth the sacrifice?

The Modern Adjusted Male by JustOneGuy - By law, every male is supposed to be "Adjusted" for the good of society. She just found out her groom is one of the outlaws . .

Men with Penises Now in the Minority by Ed - The genetically engineered world of the future

Variation on a Nude Beach by actaeon76 - Have fun . . . but beware of the boner guards!

Private Correspondence of an Imperial Castration Maiden by PR - "Fixing" the problem of the Rebellion

Assembly Line by Zoroaster - In the near-future, even getting neutered has been automated

A Woman's Right by First Timer - His wife decides to "upgrade" his equipment

 

Fucking Tables of the Past: the Fifth Letter
by Nathan​

Dear Mikal,

Wow! That was so wild. I hope that bastard got what he deserved. Still, I’m sure those parties and castration contests were pretty intense affairs. Anyway, thanks for sharing it with me.

I HAVE to tell you what happened this past weekend! It appears that at our local museum a college kid actually castrated himself! I kid you not! I mean, I was over at the museum yesterday, and the museum curator, being a friend of mine, let me watch the security tape of the “accident.” It seems the local papers picked up the story, so you might see something if it gets into the API. Anyway, sure as shit, this guy did it and while it’s a tragedy, it’s still one of the hottest tapes I’ve ever seen.

They hired him about a month ago to be one of the night security guards. They had one guy already, but added this college kid to the staff because he had worked for a burglar alarm company the previous summer. He was looking for part time work, as he is going to school full time at the local university, and the museum needed someone to work just the weekends to cover the nights when the regular guy was off duty.

Anyway, his name is Thomas Criker, and the funny part is that it was his birthday! Yeah, just turned twenty! Can you imagine? What a birthday present to give yourself! He actually castrated himself Monday morning, at 4:47am to be exact! Everything’s right on tape, clear as day, crystal clear and in living color! He’s really cute too, and seems such a waste. Happy Birthday Tommy! LOL. I just wish I could send you the tape, but there is no way the curator will give out a copy. Part of the reason is museum security, and part of it is that it’s just such an extreme tape. Still, oh wow, I’ll try and tell you about it.

This Criker kid was hired, like I said, just about a month ago, to work the weekends. All he was supposed to do was walk through the museum during the night hours when the museum was closed; making sure that no one came in or bothered any of the artifacts.

Looking a him though I think she hired him because he looks so hot! I mean, God, he has the perfect body, and he has obviously been working out at the gym, toning it and perfecting it. He has the “V” shape that all men dream of, you know, with the flat stomach, the firm pecs, small tight nips, and a waist that is small and tight. God, to be twenty again! Anyway, he’s a hunk, plain and simple, and supposedly he has a girlfriend that is equally as attractive.

At the museum they run a security tape machine that records continuously for twenty-four hours, covering every room in the place. The museum daytime security staff changes the tapes everyday, and they put in a new tape for each day of the week. So, they always can go back a week if they find something missing or damaged. Well, guess what? This young man was really fascinated by the “Fucking Table” and that’s what did him in!

Unfortunately, there aren’t any tapes from any of the previous weeks immediately after he was hired, so we can only speculate about when his fascination with the table began. But this much is for sure...on Saturday night, the night before he castrated himself, you see him on the tape coming into the room where the table is located. He goes right up to it, and starts to feel the table....rubbing his hand in the table’s hole, feeling the fur. At the same time he is gripping the front of his pants, rubbing himself in his crotch, and pretty soon he’s sporting a massive erection that is jutting out his jeans.

He looks around the room, as if to give a final check, and then you see him undo his jeans, and drop them to his knees. He jerks down his boxer shorts too, and his massive erection just juts up, stiff, hard as a piece of metal, and pointed out at about a 45 degree angle. God he is big—I’d estimate at least a ten inch pole!

Then, he just grabs the table and pulls himself up, onto it, and slides his massive erection right down into the hole. When he does he groans...on the tape he says “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh yeah that feels so fucking hot.” I had to laugh! Anyway, sure as shit, he starts humping the table, moving those perfect hips up and down, grinding his manhood into the fur lined hole.

He’s a talker too, talking the entire time as he masturbates on the table. It isn’t running or anything, but he is really into it. Here is the just of what he is saying: “Oh yeahhhhhhhhh, God....oh please....let me out.....oh plese....urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh God...it feels so good. Yeah....unstrap me....don’t...don’t castrate me. Oh please!!!!”

He just keeps fucking the table. His hands are holding the straps that were used to secure the hands when it was used for real. His jeans are down to his knees, so you can see his perfect ass, as he bobs it up and down, pumping his cock in and out of that hole. It doest take him very long, and then he yells “Oh GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!” and then he’s grunting out, really loud, as he shoots this massive wad onto the floor beneath the table.

The camera caught it all on tape. He just grunts and grunts, his wad, massive, and the strings of cum shoot out with a tremendous intensity. He’s got a hell of a load, a huge wad that any guy would be really proud of. Anyway, finally, he finishes, and then he gets off of it, and pulls his pants up, stuffing his cock back inside with some difficulty. Right away you can see him clean up his mess, and then he leaves the room and makes another round through the museum as if nothing had happened.

Well, guess what? About five hours later he comes back, to the table, and you see him looking it over again. This time he actually took the cord and plugged it in, and you can see the table’s mechanism turning and you hear the whirring of the twist wheel as it spins below.

He watches the machine for a long time. He’s eating his lunch, sitting on it, and just munching down on a sandwich. You can see him looking at the table and you can tell he’s really enthralled with it running. After he finishes eating the sandwich, he grabs an apple, and then, before he bites into it, he just sort of stops and looks at it instead. Then, well, he puts the apple down and gets off of the table and shuts it down, and then disappears for a second from view.

He comes back a few seconds later, with some wire, and the next thing you can see he is taking the wire and threading it down through the guide hole and onto the machine. His body blocks what he is doing then, but when he steps away you can see that he has slipped the wire around an apple from his lunch and its just sitting there on the table. He makes the wire really short, and twist the apple by hand a few tiems to cinch up the wire tight. Then, sure as shit, he plugs in the machine!

Well, he starts rubbing his crotch again, while the machine is running, and he’s touching the apple and feeling the wire and rubbing the front of his jeans at the same time. Then, sure as shit, he unhooks his belt, and then his big cock jumps out, for the second time that night, right into view.

Well, he works his cock, up and down, sliding the skin as he watches the wire and the apple and listens to the machine purring along. It takes a while, even with the wire as tight as he started it with. At one point he picks up the apple to see if anything is happening, and still, as short as he made it, the wire is still long enough that he can move the apple several inches off the table. All the time the wire is twisting, as the clock on the machine is moving, and after a while you can see that the wire is starting to slice its way into the apple.

He says “OH GOD....” when that happens, and then he really starts stroking his cock with earnest. He’s yelling, grunting as the wire is cutting its way through the apple, and just as it literally slices the piece of fruit in two, he screams out “FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK” and shoots another massive load. This time the guy’s semen shoots out, across the table top, squirting out and covering the apple with his white spunk. He just shoots and shoots, pumping out his goo, grunting it out just as the apple was cut in half.

Then, guess what? He shuts down the machine, and eats the two halves of the apple! He really savors it, laughs as he is eating it, and then afterwards you see him take out a towel and clean up the table, wiping it down and making sure it looks untouched. There is a dribble of his semen on the corner of his mouth, which he apparently doesn’t notice, and it’s there for quite a while afterwards until at some point, he wipes it off. Anyway, the rest of Saturday night is pretty boring.

But, on Sunday night, the kid is back. He comes into the room early in his shift, and checks out the table and looks under it. Then, he leaves, and from the tapes he goes down near the entrance and sits at the desk most of the night. Apparently, he is working on homework, and I guess he didn’t get it done earlier in the weekend. Well, he works most of the night, finally finishing up around two thirty in the morning.

Then, he makes a round in the museum, making sure nothing is disturbed and more importantly I think, that he is really alone. Finally, he seems satisfied, and goes straight to the room where the Fucking Table is waiting.

He is whistling “happy birthday” which is so ironic. Then, well, you can see him as he goes right up to the machine, and seems to look it over very carefully. Finally, he takes a loop of wire, and you can see him thread it down through the little guide hole and then, hook it up to the big take-up wheel underneath the machine. He clips off the loose ends with a pair of wire cutters. Then, with the look of a man who has thought of everything, he sets the cutters gently on the little shelf that runs along the wall behind the machine, within easy reach. Finally, he seems satisfied.

He makes a walk out to the hall again, and takes a minute to look around, one more time; I guess to make double sure he has the place to himself. Then, well, he unsnaps his jeans, and pulls them down, and off!

His prick is jutting out, stiff and hard, in his boxers. He pulls them down too, to his knees, and as he springs out, rock hard, you can tell he’s just a huge young man. His balls are hanging down, loose, and they are just massive. What a package! He has one of the biggest scrotums I’ve ever seen on a guy, and it is hanging down like a bull’s balls hang, stuffed with his balls that define his being.

Anyway, he gives his cock a couple of strokes then, and then he steps out of his boxers so he is nude from the waist down. Finally, he looks around the room, then reaches down and grabs his shirt, which he jerks up and over his head with a single movement.

God he is built! He is stark naked, standing by that table, and sprouting one of the biggest erections I’ve ever seen on a man. His prick is just so excited. At twenty, he’s just perfect, and so sexy that I’ll tell you I was boned up big time watching him.

Well, of course, you know what happens next. Sure as shit, he sits on the edge of the table, and you can see him take the long wires he has threaded up from underneath and he makes a loop. He grabs his balls and puts the wire around his huge sac, looping it with a single twist while he holds his scrotum in his hand. The end of his prick is glistening with precum, and he’s just so fucking hard it’s difficult to describe.

Anyway the wire is very long. Probably three feet of loose wire coming up and out of the hole. He can move all over the table, and its nothing like the wire would have been if the table was really being used as it was designed. Anyway, then he lays on the table, sliding his cock into the table’s “pussy”. As he slides in his pole he moans, and he just lays there for a while, feeling that little wire and the fur on his cock and humping the table, oh-so-slowly, up and down.

Next, he pulls his cock out of the fur hole, and then he wiggles forward, on the table, so that he is up at the upper end. The entire end of his cock is glistening, he’s so excited. You can see the wire, shining in the lights, coming up through that little hole and going to his massive scrotum where it has entrapped his balls. He stretches way out on the table, the wire almost tight, and grabs the cord. Leaning over, he plugs the cord into the wall, and then you can hear the machine come to life, the clock’s second hand beginning its sweep and the twist wheel doing its thing.

He immediately slides back, to the center of the table, where he takes his hard cock and pushes it back down, into the “pussy”. He’s beside himself then, moaning and saying “OH GOD...stop.......please...let me go....” He is rocking his hips and humping the table at the same time, the machine purring along like a well oiled sewing machine, tightening the wire slowly with each minute that passes.

Now, the wire, like I said, was very long, and so with each turn of the wheel the amount of actual tightening that is going on at its end is much less than it would have been had a shorter reach been used. Even so, with each minute that passes, the wire grows shorter, tighter, and as its happening you can tell he is so turned on.

Once, he pulls out of the table, and then slides up to the end once again and grabs the electrical cord one more time, as if he is going to unplug it. Its like he is making sure, but he doesn’t unplug it, but instead, moves back and re-inserts his cock and once again begins his fucking with the intensity that only a young man can deliver.

His naked ass bobs up and down in the lights, pushing his cock in and out of the fur. He’s in heaven, fucking the Fucking Table, living the history so-to-speak, and enjoying every minute of it. In and out, again and again, not in any hurry but letting the intensity of what he is pretending to overwhelm him. You can see his massive scrotum, beneath his legs, slamming into the table with its little silver wire wrapped around its top. The wire looks like a little ring, a birthday ring, holding his balls and tying him to the table, and in a very real way, to history.

He’s living it, experiencing it, and pretending to be tied down in the fantasy. He grips the restrains with his hands, pulling on them and jerking them, as if he’s testing the bonds which were once used to hold down other men for real. He hooks his ankles around the edge of the table, and then stains with his thighs as if he is trying to pull his legs together but can’t. He’s begging, as if there are people around to hear him, even though of course it’s all pretend. “Oh please...no...don’t take my balls....oh please...I beg you sir....please....oh fuck....oh not my balls!” On and on it goes, as he humps the table with an increasing intensity.

After about five minutes of this, he shoots his wad. He yells it out as he is doing it...just squirting out his load as he screams out his pleasure. You can see it in the video spattering the floor beneath the machine, as he is grunting out the essence of his manhood. It’s a hell of a wad. Huge. White. Thick. He shoots and shoots, and then, after he has cum, he lays there for perhaps a minute or two, savoring the post-orgasmic letdown.

Then he says to the air: “That was great!”

Finally, he slides out of the hole in the table, and then he wiggles back up to the end of the table to unplug it. But he can’t! He tries to reach again. Then, with a look of disgust, or surprise perhaps, he looks down, at the wire which is restraining him, and then he tries again. God, he can’t quite reach it! I mean, the wire, that is around his balls, has grown shorter while he was doing his humping, and so, now, its just about two inches too short to allow him to reach the cord!

I wish you could see his expression! God! He freaks...then really pulls hard, stretching out his entire scrotum as the wire is just like a cable, fastening to the table and keeping him from reaching the outlet. He laughs, just for a second, then he just sort of relaxes, and bending around, he reaches behind him to the shelf where he has put the wire cutters. He reaches for them, but his hand is at a funny angle, and so as he reaches for the wire cutters his hand bumps them instead, and then, suddenly they are falling from the shelf. He grabs for them, desperately, the look of shock on his face, misses, grabs again and then as he screams “NO!!!!!” they flip off his hand and with a clatter they hit the floor by the machine.

He screams “OH GOD...FUCK....OH FUCK............OH FUCK ME!”

He bends over the table, after them, but he’s well short of the floor, and as he is bent over reaching for the cutters he stares at the machine, spinning, around and around, the wire twisting and twisting and twisting oh-so-slowly as he stares at it happening.

He moves back to the top of the table, and reaches again, one more time, for the wall and the cord and his salvation. He says “OH GOD...OH JESUS....PLEASE....come ON! PLEASE MAN....” He’s reaching, now with total desperation, stretching out his fingers, the wire beneath his legs and around his balls like a cable from hell. The wire is stretched out, still very long but not long enough, pulling on his scrotum and his two big balls trapped inside. Still, as hard as he is pulling, it’s still not quite long enough to let him reach the plug to turn off the machine!

Now, he changes his position. He sits up, rocking back and sitting on his knees, so his feet are under him and he his ass is on his ankles. His legs are spread, and he reaches under himself, and grabs the wire that is coming up from underneath the table. He looks at it, and pulls on it with his hand, trying to pull it out of the table and away from the mechanism. Of course, its double stranded stainless steel, and it’s a waste of time.

The twist wire that has his balls disappears down, through the little guide hole, and there is continues to turn, the twisting going slowly, but nevertheless, onward and tighter and tighter. The look on his face is priceless. He tugs on the wire, pulls on it, his hand trying to wrap the wire beneath his balls and to somehow pull it from the table.

He stares at it...freaking, tugging on it. His mouth is open, staring, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. “God...oh please..OH PLEASE! FUCK! OH GOD...NO...NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! This CANT BE HAPPENING! GOD!”

“HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” he screams.

He yells so loud that you can hear his voice echo through the museum. He yells again, his voice cracking from the strain.

“PLEASE..........SOMEBODY.....SOMEBODY HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Again, the echo, as his own voice comes back to him. He gasps, and then, starting to feel the wire as it pushes into his scrotum, he gasp again and looks down, between his legs at the piece of thin steel that is taking his manhood. Looking down there, he cries out “OH God...this is hurting.”

He is still on his knees, his legs spread, sitting back on his ass as the wire begins his unmanning. His prick grows as he looks out, into the room, staring at nothing as he feels the wire. Still, his prick grows, stiff, hard again, up and eager and almost as if it’s trying to get out of the way of his balls. He is facing the camera, looking right at it although he doesn’t know its there, and he is gasping for air....freaking...in a total panic and with nothing he can do. His right hand is on the wire...still pulling on it, trying to stop it from doing the unstoppable. Tears run down from his eyes as the pain intensifies and his cock bounces to his heartbeat.

“OH GOD....OH GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!”

As the birthday boy pulls on the wire that is castrating him, he is slowly being drawn down, lower, to the table, and his legs go wider. The wire still has some slack, allowing him to move, but it isn’t cutting by getting shorter. No, it’s cutting by the twisting movement, tighter and tighter, pinching off his balls one twist at a time. Every thirty seconds its makes another twist, making the loop smaller, and then smaller still. As it does so, the wire pushes down, into his flesh, down into the boy’s big scrotum and above his testicles.

“OH...OHHHHHHHHHH....OH GOD” he says, his mouth agape, and his eyes, wide, in panic.

Still, the wire twists closed. He looks down, then, and then he wails “Oh...OH SHIT.....FUCK....ITS CUTTING ME...ITS CUTTING MY BALLS OFF!”

“PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

His cock bounces, up and down, without him touching it. He looks down, at the wire, and his cock, and the wire has disappeared into his scrotum. You can’t see it anymore, just the line of flesh where it is, and there is a little blood now, and a massive bruise line as it crushes the flesh and moves its way into his balls, growing ever smaller and ever tighter.

He is whimpering. Just a sobbing really, and it seems to rack his body. Still, he holds the wire in his hand, beneath his balls, feeling it twisting and feeling his castration. Like countless other males before him, he feels the wire as it takes his manhood, a tiny bit of him at a time with each sweep of the second hand. He just stares now, open mouthed, staring straight ahead again, into nothing, as he lives and feels and experiences his own castration.

The machine and the wire and the motor could care less. On and on they turn, twisting the wire, ever smaller, and as it happens he feels a pain so intense it seems to overwhelm his being. Then, almost without explanation, his cock spasms, and then a white load of his spunk just begins to pump up, and out from his balls.

There is some blood with it, but not that much, and as he pumps out his juice it just oozes out of his cock, up from the head and then down, along the length of his shaft. It runs under his cock, and onto his balls, which are bulging, squeezed tight, trapped in thier sack that is being taken from him even as he is squirting. On and on he pumps out his goo, the last wad of his life, the essence of his sperm and his future as a father. Its all wasted, pumped out onto the table, pumped out and worthless now, his last seed spurted for nothing.

As it slowly oozes to a single bead of cum on the end of his pole, he gasped, louder, and then, with a grunt, his balls come free and drop to the table. The wire disappears down, into the guide hole, and he looks down, at his little puddle of semen and his cock and his detached scrotum. His sac is still round and fat and full, the balls inside quivering on the table, moving within their sac, seeking the nourishment that is gone forever. He falls, slowly, forward, until he is flat on the table, face down, unmoving, his legs apart and he unmanned, lying in his pile of semen that has pooled like a puddle.

The clock on the tape shows that he was castrated at precisely 4:47am.

Happy birthday!

Oh Mikal, I guess I’ve about told you about all I know about the “Fucking Tables” of the past. If you know anyone else that has story, perhaps they will share it with us. Well, enough for now...

Your friend,

Nathan

 

The Ring
by Zipper​

"I don't want to wear one!" I told my father, pleading with him to change his mind. "None of the other kids in school have them, and I know that they will make fun of me when I dress down for PE."

"It's been a tradition in our family for over five hundred years for men to wear them." My father answered. "You must wear one, and you must start now, or it will be too late."

I knew that was true. We studied Sex Ed in school, and I knew about the changes that guys my age go through. Some of the more mature guys were already growing hair down there, and their nuts and pricks were getting bigger. I didn't have hair yet, but my voice was starting to change and my balls kind of itched now and then and it felt good to scratch them. Once a week for the last year father had measured my nuts, and plotted their size on a graph. This touching was not proper, according to what they taught us in school, but father said it was okay for him to do it. The graph started taking an upward sweep just before summer vacation, so I knew that it was time, but I still didn't want to do it.

Father crossed the room to the mantle and removed the ring from its holder. It was beautiful; I'll have to admit that much. It was about one inch long and an inch and a half in diameter with an oval hole through the center. It appeared to be made from solid gold, and had a large ruby inset into one side, but I knew that it had a tunsten-like core that could not be cut. It was several centuries old, I was told, and had been worn by my grandfather and I don't know who all else.

"All males in the family wear one of these when they come of age." Father said, repeating what I had heard many times before. "They are rumored to make their wearers invincible in battle, but I suspect that the real reason no Wasson has ever been taken captive while wearing one is that the consequences of being captured with one makes the warrior fight just that much harder, so he always wins."

This may have been true when guys running around chucking spears at each other fought the battles, but it didn't seem to be much of a help in any kind of war that I would ever be in, where some guy with a pushbutton zaps your ass from five miles away.

"The other reason we wear them is to build character." Father continued, "This ring is worth many thousands of dollars, and not only do we fight with our lived to protect it against removal, but we also realize that it can be sold any time we wish to remove it ourselves."

School had just finished, and father said that I had all summer to 'grow into it', as he put it. That night he had me soak in the hot tub for a long time, and then sit on the edge of it while he oiled my bag and worked the ring over my nuts. It was a pretty tight fit, but didn't hurt once it was in place.

"You'll have to be careful for a few weeks not to let it come off." Father warned me, before pointing up to something on the ceiling. I looked up to see what he was pointing at when he hit me hard, right in the nuts! "There! Now they will swell up for a couple of weeks, and by that time maybe they will have grown enough to where we won't have to do that again." He told me, as I lay bent over, gasping and trying not to puke.

I matured quite a bit over the summer, and by the time I started the eighth grade the ring was a permanent part of me. I dreaded having to strip for PE on the first day of school, and sure enough Amos teased me about the ring. Amos was sort of a dunce, and had been held back a couple of times and was two years older than the rest of the class. He was bigger than me and very hairy. I just had some crotch and armpit hair, but he had hair on his chest and ass and had to shave every day. I knew that the teasing would only get worse, so I challenged him after school, He never even saw the blow coming that broke his nose, and when his hands flew to his face I kneed him hard in the nuts. He went down and stayed down and nothing else was said, by anyone, about my ring.

I learned to appreciate the ring when I was in high school. The word got out that I had 'something special' between my legs, and I think that every guy in the school came into the locker room to see what it was. Some of the other guys got them too, but none of theirs had the heritage, value, or permanence of mine. By the time I graduated I knew why Wasson men wore the rings: More than twenty girls and two teachers had gotten a close look at the ruby, which stayed hidden from view until I had an erection.

I tried to enlist in the Army after college, but I was rejected because of "Unauthorized Boby Ornaments", so I went to the police academy instead. I think that the ring helped me survive on the streets, as it gave me confidence in coping with the low-lifes and druggies.

My father passed on a few years ago, and the ring that he wore with pride for so many years is now diplayed on my mantle, ready for my son in a few years. My own ring is probably in a museum or collection somewhere, or perhaps it is on a chain around the neck of the whore who removed it from me one night in Chicago when I was passed out drunk. The shame I feel for losing it is even worse than the other loss I suffered during its removal.

 

Fucking Day
by Nathan​

I call it the "Fucking Day", although I know that's not its official name. Society refers to it as the "Mating Day," and it's that too of course and a whole lot more. Still, whatever you want to call it, it’s a day like no other day in the month. Always on a Saturday, the young males come by the hundreds, each scared to a degree, but eager too, ready to be mated and to get on with life. As they turn eighteen they have to come, and so they do. Our district is a big one, near the city, and so we get a large group of them that keeps us busy from early in the morning until late at night.

I guess I should introduce myself if I'm going to tell you what I do and try and explain my job. I'm Diana Percy, and I am one of the senior judges on one of twelve judge teams in our district. It is my job to administer each session sent to me, to make sure it is conducted efficiently and professionally, and if it is required then it is I that will do the actual castration. Of course, only a few percent lose their balls. Most of the boys by far get through it, and go home married men ready to go forth building their lives and taking care of their new wives. Still, while the percentage isn't that large, there is a number that don't make it, and well, it is those of course that I tend to remember.

The Fucking Day has been part of our society as long as I can remember, although I know that it was not always so. I know it seems barbaric to some, but all the males in all societies throughout the world all have to earn their mates and compete in some manner to get them. I don't care what country or culture you look at, young men have always been chasing the women they want and competing for them in one way or the other since men were men. Many things come into the equation for a male to succeed; good looks, a strong body, and of course the ability to sexually satisfy are all important criteria. For a successful male, who can find a woman to marry and keep her, it takes a little luck and a lot of hard work. In the end, a good wife of course is worth everything that is required to catch her.

In every society on earth, for those males that cannot perform, or who lack the traits sought by the women of their culture, then they are doomed to spend their sorry lives searching and hoping for mates that will never come. Eventually, they become unimportant, and society tends to push them away, in effect, in a symbolic sort of way, they are castrated by society even if they keep their balls. Generally speaking unattached males are pushed downward in the social hierarchy and their lives are less fulfilling than the ones who mate successfully. Worse, these unattached males tend to create problems in most cultures, and tend to become aggressive and difficult as they go through their frustrated lives. Instead of being productive men making the future generation they live only a self-centered life, contributing nothing to the genetic pool. Worse, they can become problems and in many countries a large percentage of the prison populations are made up of such unattached single males.

None of that is true here of course. Not in his country it is not. For one thing, in our society we have refined and institutionalized the process of mating and have solved the problem of the unattached male at the same time. We weed out the undesirable males from the genetic pool and remove the aggressive tendencies of the males who are unable to earn a mate. We do it all as they turn eighteen, so they spend less of their lives chasing girls and fighting amongst themselves to win a mate. Instead, they get it all done quickly and easily and much earlier in their lives, and afterwards they are mated and the hunt and the game is over. I personally think it’s a much better system. It all happens each month, on a single day, a day when the boys and the girls come together, to copulate, and to prove themselves as worthy to carry the seed of the new generation.

Most of the boys come with the girls they wish to marry; usually their high school sweethearts. Of course, they are all virgins. To have intercourse without being mated is a castratable offense, and there isn’t a girl alive that wouldn't be quick to turn in a boy who crossed that line. The reward is too high, and the consequences of having unmarried sex are so great that it is just never attempted. Never. So, they are all virgins, at least the boy's are.

The girls that come with the boys are usually virgins too. However, if a boy fails the test and loses his balls, then the girl is entered into a waiting group, and her statistics, traits, and desires are placed within the state computer database. In that way, she can vie for another boy to be her mate and almost certainly she will get another chance. So, there is that group, the group of girls who have had their fuck but whose prospective mate's nuts ended up in the jar. For those girls, they will spread their legs again, and again if necessary, until they too are mated and can go on with the business of making babies and living out their lives.

Nothing is arbitrary about the system. It's all done fairly. Each judging team consists of three judges, and each judge votes independently of the others. On my team there is Linda Scotdale, an older woman of thirty-seven who is deeply religious. She has her own convictions of course, and is totally dedicated to what we do. She is also highly qualified, a hard worker, and she isn't afraid to do what is required when it has to be done.

The other member of my team is William O'Conner, a twenty-four year old man and father of two children. He's college educated, and holds an undergraduate degree in Biology, and has published two papers on the intricacies and techniques of human intercourse. I like him too, in a professional way, and he is a hard worker who will be moving to head his own judge team in the near future. I make up the third member, the senior member, and I've been working in the procreation division of the juvenile justice system for more than ten years, and have a paramedic certificate. I've been trained in the art of non-voluntarily castration, and am board certified for the procedure.

Each judge has a vote weight that is worth twenty percent of the final outcome. The rest of the vote, the critical vote, is left with the girl whose legs are spread. That's fitting, because it is her that will have to live out her life with the man she is mated to, and once it is done there is no turning back. Sometimes the woman finds out the boy she thought she knew is not the man she wants to marry. I've seen more than a few lads totally surprised as I make the cut and take their balls while the girl they were fucking laughs as it happens. Since each girl the boy is mounted to has a forty percent stake in the outcome of the event, in a very real essence it is she that the young man must satisfy. If the male earns at least at least fifty percent of the vote, he keeps his balls and is mated for life to the girl he has been joined to.

Of course, if he earns less than that, then he forfeits his right to manhood, and will spend his life unmarried and unsatisfied. However, the problems of frustration and aggressiveness, which is the bane for unmarried males in other societies, are prevented with the removal of his balls. It’s a good system. While its true that ending up a eunuch is a terrible outcome for them, it's not really all that different from any society where the unmated males find themselves at the bottom of the social ladder. At least in our society they aren't seething with lust and desire for something they can never have.

I enjoy my job. I like watching the young couples as they flail in their first attempt at intercourse. There is a nervousness to it all, and yet the freshness of each session and the fumbling that goes on can make my job fun and keep it interesting. It's always good to see their relief after it has gone well, the young couple leaving arm in arm, bonded and moving on to their marriage ceremony. It’s a time of great celebration, the moment where a manhood is insured, and the joy and the happiness cannot be overemphasized. Usually the entire family is there, congratulating the new mates, and giving them encouragement.

Like I said, most of the teenage males arrive with a girlfriend in tow. I'd say that’s true for at least seventy percent of them. They know they have a lot at stake, and there is certainly less risk if they come with a prospective mate. Sometimes the parents even arrange it. Typically though, the boy and girl have dated for quite a while, and most of the time they are anxious for their fuck and eager for it to happen. In the lobby, while they await for their appointment, you can see them kissing, holding hands, and looking into each others eyes as they anticipate the moment when that first penetration will be allowed. Sometimes, in the waiting area, you can see the young men, their boners pushing their pants upward, as they wait for their time and for their opportunity.

Still, there is the other group, the young men that arrive without a girlfriend to fuck. Perhaps they have broken up with their prospective mate or perhaps they just never found the girl that wanted them. Regardless of the reason, they come alone, but still they come because they have to, and you can see the concern in their faces as they wonder who they will be mated to. For males without girlfriends, each of them arrives with a detailed questionnaire answering questions about themselves, their likes, and dislikes, so that a proper match can be made. The questionnaire insures they will be computer matched with a compatible prospective life partner.

While their risk is greater, I still think in some ways these are the lucky men, because the computer often selects a mate with more potential to build a marriage on than the ones they have selected themselves. Still, the women are always more critical of this group as a whole, and so their risk is much greater, and the pressure on the young man to please his prospective mate he has hardly met is higher than it otherwise might be. Even so, most of them make it, although without question their odds are less and more than a few are castrated by the end of the day.

When they first arrive the boys are separated and given a refresher course on the art of lovemaking. Some boys are so nervous they have no idea what to do, so we try and outline what is expected and to give them directions that will lead to success. Any questions they might have are answered, and after that their scrotal rings are checked for security. Scrotal rings you ask? Well, these rings are worn by every male in our society, and are placed around the scrotum when a boy turns eleven. They are beautiful, intricate pieces of jewelry, usually purchased by a parent or grandparent for the coming of age ceremony that occurs when the boy turns thirteen.

When first fitted they are soaped well so the boys testicles can be fitted through them. They are made just large enough so that the young lads balls can barely be worked through them, usually one testicle at a time and manipulated carefully and slowly. It is somewhat painful for the young boys as the metal rings are worked over their young sacs, but once they are in place they stay there and are never taken off and so it only has to be done once. For a few months the boy has to be careful to keep it in place, but soon enough as the boy matures and his balls enlarge the ring cannot be removed even if he wanted to take if off.

Every boy has one. Every boy. The actually inner diameter of the rings they wear cause the top of the adult scrotum to neck down, so that the balls underneath hang and cannot retract into the body. These rings are worn like wedding rings, a constant reminder of the growth into manhood and the ultimate bond that comes with matrimony. To cheat on a wife for example, would cost you the ring....and with the ring your balls. So, every husband sports such a ring, and we always leave them in place if the marriage is approved and the mating is sanctioned. Of course, in those cases where it isn’t, then the ring comes off when I take their balls.

While the boys are in their class the girls are sequestered in a different room and their questions are answered as well. When I do the girls class I try to emphasize the power that they possess, so that they are aware of what is on the line. I try to make sure they realize that they deserve to be satisfied, that a mate worth having should give them pleasure and keep them happy. I tell them in no uncertain terms that they deserve a boy that can please them, and if they find out that their boyfriend is not up to the task then they are free to continue to seek a mate elsewhere. I emphasize that being married to a small cock or an unsatisfying lover makes for an unhappy life, and so I recommend that they be careful when they are voting and to make sure they want the man they vote for.

The young couples are scheduled for thirty minute sessions, based on a maximum of twenty minutes to make love and another ten minutes to get them tied in and ready for the session. Most do not take that long and some of the boys squirt as soon as their cocks are inserted. Today my group did a total of twenty-five couples, which is a good amount, and with the eleven other judge teams working we got through the two-hundred and fifty boys in under twelve hours. It was a good day. When it was all over only fourteen boys had been castrated. I remember some of them because of a look, or from something that was said, but I can't remember every fuck I saw. After a while they become a blur, but I do manage to remember the ones that I nut.

My day started off with a castration which is a hell of a way to start. Right after the classroom sessions were done, we got down to business and the names of the couples were called to their sessions, in random order. My judge group's first couple was from Stephen Foster High, a black haired boy named Mark McDonald and his blond girlfriend Jennifer Johnson. The kid was nervous, and almost shaking, but he tried to smile and the girl did her best to encourage him. We prepared her in the usual manner, getting her to remove her clothes and fitting her with the copulation harness, or CH, as its called. It's just a leather harness with straps that are secured at the top of her thighs, and a thicker strap that goes around her waist. The straps are connected to a steel triangle, which is pointed down, so that the hollow triangle sits above her vagina, forming a wire loop, that runs along the inverted "V" that follows her pubic mound.

After she was lying down and we had her relaxed and lubricated, we brought in the prospective mate whose eyes almost leaped out of his head when her saw her naked and ready. It's always interesting to watch the reaction when a teenage boy sees his first pussy and knows it is waiting for him. The boy removed his own clothes, eagerly, and we put on the two ankle cuffs with the free flowing leather straps that are mandated by the state. We also cuffed his wrists individually as required, but initially we left them free so as not to hinder him. Mark McDonald was scared, and pretty nervous, and consequently his dick wasn’t fully boned even though the girl was eager and ready. Still, that's normal, and I told him not to worry about it.

After that we left them in accordance with the protocol, and they started kissing right away and the boy obtained his erection. We watch everything that goes on through a one way mirror that runs along the full length of the room. There is a mirror on the ceiling too, but its just a regular mirror but allows the girl to watch her boyfriend as he pushes his ass up and down and makes his fuck. I think the mirrors add to the sexiness of the moment as the young couple can watch themselves as they do it. As judges, we watch everything too, and while I know the couple have been told they will be monitored I still think generally speaking they try and ignore it.

That first boy's cock was nice, and firm, and yet it still had the thinness of youth but was long and pointed. I guess it was a typical dick for an eighteen year old. It had a slight upward curve, and the big end was a reddish purples and it glistened in the light. We watched the couple as they went through a period of foreplay, up until the time that the boy climbed over her and placed his cock into her pussy.

As soon as Mark entered her he gasped, and said "OH GOD...OH..OH...oh YEAH" and then he smiled a huge grin from ear to ear. The girl was hurting, and as the boy ruptured her hymen she let out a yelp, but then bit her tongue and held the back of the boy as she stared up and into the mirror.

At that moment we interrupted things, as required, and came into the room and quickly secured the couple in place. It takes only seconds to do, and then we left almost before they realized what had happened. We work as a team. Linda and William worked together, each taking one of the boy's wrists which were under him, supporting his upper torso as he rode inside of his girl. In less and ten seconds they each clipped his wrist cuffs to the two thin cables at the head of the bed that are there for that purpose. This allowed him some freedom of movement with his hands.... so that he could move his arms and hands but not reach downward to where his own genitals were.

At the same time I reached up under the boy, below his balls that were hanging down, like a bulls, and using a standard master lock, I literally and figuratively locked his balls to the triangular piece of steel that was strapped to the girl and that surrounded the opening to her vagina. It’s a simple matter to do that, as I just slip the open padlock up, under her ring of steel, and then slide it around the scrotal ring that has been worn by the boy since his balls began to grow. With a click, it is done, and from that minute onward the boy and the girl are padlocked together, held that way, with him deep inside and with his boner stuffing her pussy. There is no way he can pull completely out at that point, not that he would want to anyway.

We leave again of course, and the entire process only takes a few seconds. After that, we leave them alone and just watch them fuck through the mirror. As the judge team, we look at many factors when deciding how to vote. As his hips pump up and down, pushing his cock in and out of her pussy, we try and review his grades and test scores to find out his potential. His entire record, medical, job history, if any, and his school transcripts are all available to us. A smart, strong student is more desirable than a weaker one and would be expected to make a better husband.

Likewise, a boy that has been in trouble with the law, or has had a number of suspensions is going to raise some concern. If he's a fast driver, with lots of tickets, it adds a dimension of risk to the equation. How would he drive as a father with kids in the car? As we look through his record, we also study any medical findings that may be important, such as specific genetic traits or diseases that run in his family. The more healthier the score, the more likely he will be to win the vote of the judges.

The boy's written record isn't everything though. As we watch him fuck, pumping his dick in and out and fucking with an eagerness that is hard to describe, we try and evaluate his ability to "make love", and to "satisfy" his life partner. A married woman deserves a husband that can make her life worthwhile. Of course, for the girl being penetrated she certainly has a perspective we do not and that’s why so much weight is given to her vote.

Mark McDonald and Jennifer Johnson were a good looking couple, but in the end I was swayed to vote against the boy. For one thing he was fucking her like a pile driver, satisfying himself perhaps but not caring about the girl. In short, he was a self-centered fucker, which is not that uncommon, but still it torques me when I see it and I didn't like it. Further, his grades were mediocre at best, with lots of C's and D's, and with the genetic data indicating he wore glasses, needed braces, and diabetes ran in his family I thought the girl deserved better. It turned out the other two judges agreed with me, and after that the boy's fate was sealed.

The fucking went on for several minutes, the boy slamming his hips up and down, bobbing them, pushing his cock in and out of her pussy like a miniature pile driver. You could see he was in heaven, loving every minute of what would be is one and only fuck. In and out...in and out. He was into it, and his back glistened with his sweat. Finally, he looked his girlfriend into her eyes, and said "Jenn.....here it comes...." and then he was grunting as he pumped out his goo. The girl never orgasmed as the boy flooded into her pussy.

As soon as he squirted we were in there, the vote over with. Of course, the girl pressed her green button, voting for the boy she wished to marry, but her forty percent could not override the combined vote of our judge team. We worked fast, and William grabbed his right ankle, by the leather cuff, and jerked his right food outward and wrapped the leather strap that was hooked to his ankle cuff around the foot post on the bed. At the same time Linda pulled out his left leg, hard, and wrapped the leather there to hold it in place. The boy turned, and looked back, and as he stared at me and what was in my hand he screamed. With his legs now spread wide apart, he was totally at my mercy and his scrotum was just waiting to be taken.

"NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he yelled.

His girl screamed too, and said "No...WAIT..WAIT!!!!!" I...I WANT HIM...I WANT HIM! I voted for HIM!!!!"

I was holding the bander, and I slipped the double loop of stretched rubber out and over his balls...all the way until it was against his ring of metal his parents had once given to him. The boy bucked his hips, pumping his cock, trying to withdraw but the padlocked balls held him in place. He was looking back at me, as I smiled, and then I popped the release lever and snapped the restriction bands in place. They came off the bander with a snap, and were so tight they closed off his scrotum like a purse is cinched closed with the tie of a knot. He grunted then, the pain real, and intense, and after that he was bucking his hips like a madman.

I don't waste time, as there are a lot of males to do, and so I just pulled out my knife and laid it up against the left side of his balls. I hesitated then, like I always do, to make sure I get the knife between the two bands so there will be no bleeding. Then I said to him: "Sorry boy, but your record didn't measure up.....we've got to neuter you." As I said that the look on his face was totally in shock, the realization of what was going to take place now consuming him. I use a big knife, a butcher's knife, and when the teen boy saw it he jerked, hard, against his bonds and totally freaked. He struggled vigorously then, but even though he could move his hands he couldn't pull them back far enough to reach where I was working. I winked at him, and then, with a sawing motion, I moved my big knife up and down, slicing it between the bands and right through his balls.

He grunted, loudly, and screamed, and then his entire body shuddered and he squirted a final load into the pussy of his girl. It was just a reflex squirt, a final wad of jism to try one last time to fertilize something. Then, in an instant, it was done and his balls were free, the entire sack loose and quivering in my hand. Since his scrotal ring was still padlocked to the girls harness, she gained it as a souvenir. As for his balls, I dropped them in one of the round glass specimen jars, already labeled with a number, and filled with preserving fluid. As they dropped into the jar I watched them quiver and form ripples on the surface of the clear liquid. I stared at them, and watched them until the ripples stopped and his balls were dead and lifeless. Finally, with a twist I capped the jar closed, and held it up to the light with a smile. I don't know why, but it being the first sac of the day I decided to take it out to the boy's parents that were no doubt waiting eagerly in the waiting area, leaving his untying to my subordinates.

It was an interesting diversion. As I came out both families rose up to see me. My tits are fairly large, and pronounced, and there were two younger teen boys that couldn't take their eyes off of them. As for the parents, well, needless to say they were anything but happy to see me, and when his mom spied her son's balls swimming in that jar she just up and feinted. But hell, not every teenage boy deserves to get married, and this kid didn't and it was something I didn't mind doing. I turned around and went back to work, leaving the father holding the boy's family jewels and the two younger brothers staring with bugged eyes and visible fear. As I thought of them, and their day to come, I grinned from ear to ear.

There were no other castrations for the next two hours. Instead, we watched the young males fucking, one after the other, and each of the matings went well and I took no balls. There were no castrations, although there was one close call I do remember. A very young looking eighteen year old, cute as a button, had some troubled actually doing the fuck. I remember him well....short cropped blond hair, blue eyes, with a young thin cock that was dripping with desire. The boy's nuts weren’t that big, and he sported a platinum ring around his nuts, which is unusual these days but it did get your attention.

Anyway, as he entered the girl he squirted, plain and simple, just shot his wad as soon as he felt his first vagina. The girl was mad as hell, and told him so, and the boy apologized profusely. The girl kept saying "Is THAT IT? You have GOT to be KIDDING?" Yeah, no mercy from her. The girl voted against him...voted to castrate the boy, and hell, he probably should have been. Still, it seemed a mistake to me, as well as the other judges watching, and besides the boy had good grades and looked sharp as hell and his record was picture perfect.

In short, I guess we just liked him. In the end, we voted for the mating, and so with a vote count of 60/40 we overrode the girl's wishes. The kid was just so damn cute, and he was also so damn sorry. He knew he screwed up, and was just so excited about his first woman that the feelings overwhelmed him. I'm glad the other two judges agreed with me, because it could have gone either way quite easily. I guess we all just felt he would do better in the future, and once he got used to the feeling he would probably be a good little stud. The girl was pissed, but we figured she'd get over it and besides, there wasn’t anything she could do about it once we had sanctioned the union.

Around one in the afternoon I did my second castration of the day. I knew as soon as I saw the kid he was doomed. He was a fat kid, really fat, and he had a face full of zits and thick glasses to match. He didn't come with a girl friend, and so was computer matched to another girl, also overweight but to a lesser degree. The girl had already rejected two other boys, so I didn't figure she was gonna go for him either. The boy had a hell of a time getting it up too, so perhaps he knew he was doomed from the beginning.

I thought for a minute that he might have been gay even, and it certainly was a possibility. Gay or straight it doesn’t matter. In our society, you are either mated or castrated and that’s all there is to it. Didn't matter to me, but you can never know for sure and the thought was there. Hard to tell....but eventually he did manage an erection. His cock sure wasn’t very long though, although it did have some thickness to it.

After he was padlocked into place and he was fucking, he started grunting and sweating and I could tell from the girl that she was not impressed. His armpits stunk like shit with his sweat, and the smell seemed to overwhelm the girl he had mounted. He rocked into her just in and out, without any technique, ramming his little cock into her like a jack rabbit. It was a long fuck though...as he seemed to have trouble, and yet even so the girl did not seem to get much pleasure in it and just seemed anxious to get it done. The boy had straight A's at school, and hadn't been in any trouble, but still his lovemaking ability just sucked and it was difficult to even watch it as it was happening. Finally, he squirted out his load of semen, and I will admit that he had a thick wad, because it actually bubbled out around his cock and ran down and out of her pussy in a small flood. We all voted against him though, even so. All of us.

As we came into the room the boy already knew...and he didn't seem to fight it even though he wasn't happy about it. Linda and William got his legs apart, and I banded his balls with a quick motion. We had that done in seconds, literally. The boy grunted when I did that, and seemed to move his fat ass, perhaps to try and dodge what was about to transpire, but other than that he just stared straight ahead and waited for his nutting. When I took the knife and laid it up against his big fat sac, I said: "Are you ready boy?" and he nodded his head, just like that, as if he knew and had already prepared himself. I started the sawing motion, working the knife down through his fat balls, slowly making the slices up and down and up and down. No blood to speak of and he didn't struggle and instead just stayed still as I cut him.

The muscles in the girl's pussy pushed out the boy's cock as I was castrating him, just pushed it out like a noodle as I unmanned him. It was almost as if she wanted him gone, and the sooner the better. Although he didn’t struggle he did grunt as his balls came free, and the girl laughed as I nutted him. Then he seemed to collapse after that, hanging there, lifeless, a ballless eunuch forever castrated. The girl's relief was obvious and intense. The lad's fat balls went into one of the jars, and they were so fat that they filled the container and because of the curved surface of the glass seemed to be even bigger than they were. I'll probably never forget that sac and the way it filled that jar.

I took it out to to the waiting room and handed it to the boy's family. The father was fat as hell, and he took it without a sound. Just like that. I think they all knew it was going to happen, and well, it had and so that was that. Still, they all huddled and stared at that jar like it was something important, the lad's fat sac floating in the liquid. As I gave it a last look, it occurred to me that his semen still filled the girl. Yuk!

I don't remember too many of the young men that came and fucked and came and fucked. I think though the next couple I do remember came in about a half hour later after I had nutted the fat boy. They really surprised me, and perhaps that's why I remember them so well. The boy's name was Patrick Rentin, and the Girl was Paula Thomas. The boy was all over the girl, so eager and confident, and the girl kissed him back with a vengeance. When he saw his girl, wearing the copulation harness, but otherwise naked, his cock grew straight out and literally looked like a tree root growing from a forest of pubic hair.

The kid had a totally smooth chest, but was tall and lanky and blond and beautiful. I figured he would win her easily. His stomach was totally flat, and ripped, the flat horizontal lines showing where he worked out and kept his body tuned to perfection. His legs were powerful, and dusted with a light covering of blond fuzz, but other than that, and his bush above his cock and the hair in his pits he was pretty much as smooth a much younger teen.

Their foreplay was intense, and he went down on her, and that surprised me because only a few boys that age will ever do that. It did light the girls eyes up though and the way he was working his tongue she orgasmed twice within only a few minutes. God he was good! He seemed to be a natural mate, and his teenage cock was hard as a piece of steel. After he was inside her pussy and padlocked in place, and doing his fucking, he seemed to rotate his ass in a circular motion, working his cock around and around, tickling the sides of her pussy and working her up and into another frenzy.

I read his file as he fucked, and there were a few problems there to be concerned with. For one thing, he had been into several scrapes with the law, and had a record of shoplifting and vandalism that went back since he was fourteen. He had also been held in a young offender detention facility for assaulting a teacher, and that certainly got our attention. Still, the kid had a cock and knew what it was for, and so I voted for him and gave him the benefit of the doubt. My two cohorts were split, and one voted with me and one voted against him, and so after that it was all up to the girl.

I watched the boy as he fucked her, and the girl was laughing as he was doing her. He had given her three orgasms, and then he said to her "I want to marry you." The girl reached out and pulled him down to her, so that he was riding into her as she held him close, his hips continuing to push his eager cock in and out of her dripping pussy. The boy was grinning ear to ear, living his first fuck and enjoying every minute. Then she said to him, loud enough that I could hear, "Do you remember when you got mad and hit me? At the dance when everybody laughed at me?"

The boy was still fucking her, driving his cock in and out, but he pushed away then, up on his hands, and looked down at her to try and gage her mood. I could see that her comment had come as a surprise, and had thrown off his fucking. I could also see his expression change, and the look on his face then is one I'll never forget. Still, he pumped his ass up and down, but more slowly now, and then he nodded, carefully, still working his cock, the sweat on his back visible, and literally running down and into the crack of his firm ass. I could tell he was right on the verge of cumming. The boy said "I told you I was sorry."

He looked into her eyes deeply, and slowly continued his pumping, and the girl started pushing into him from below, forcing the fuck, forcing the feeling and carrying him upward and over the edge. Then she said "Well Patrick....sorry doesn’t cut it....you totally humiliated me at the dance. You hurt me."

The boy was getting scared, and he tried to slow the pace, to stretch it out perhaps and perhaps even to try and talk it out with her. He certainly didn’t want her angry, not with her vote coming up, and so he was working the words, carefully, trying to smooth things and so he slowed his fucking and try and buy some time. But she was pushing up into him, her vagina working his cock like a sucking monster, and the feeling was too much and the boy lost his control. He grunted then, "ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH....OH...OH GOD I’m CUMMINGGGGG" and then he threw his head back. After that he shuddered and his balls started shooting out his teenage wad. He dumped his cream into her, in great waves of pleasure, and as he did she said "Your balls are mine Patrick Rentin."

He stared at her, feeling his cock pulsate within his girls pussy, and then he started to beg her but it did no good. She pressed the red button and voted against him then, sealing his fate, and I had to say that I had not seen it coming. Still, we didn't hesitate, as once the vote is taken there is no more questions or discussions and we do what must be done. We were in the room in seconds, and William grabbed the boys left leg, and wrapped the leather strap around the bedpost, pulling out his leg and stretching it wide apart. Linda did the same thing with the right leg, and he fought her, but with the leverage of the straps around the posts he couldn't stop what was being done.

In seconds the boy's legs were wide apart, and after that his balls were totally exposed with his cock still buried within her and still twitching in the afterglow. I looked down at his scrotum, and I could see his cock, disappearing into her pussy, a line of white cream around it where his jism had pumped out so hard that it was literally running out of her cunt.

The boy was totally in shock. Totally. He spun around and saw the bander in my hands and then after that he looked down at his girl and started screaming at her "NO...NO FUCKING WAY!!!!! YOU CAN'T...GOD..NO.....YOU BITCH.....YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!!!!"

His girlfriend started laughing, and the boy tried to hit her, but William and Linda were right on top of things and so they jerked on the wires that went to his wrists, stretching out his arms and preventing him from hitting her. Of course, as they did that his wrists went wide, out to the sides of the bed, which made him collapse down on top of her.

I ignored his protest, and as the boy struggled like a wild man I slipped the bander over his sac and pulled the release lever. When the twin bands snapped around his scrotum he screamed, and then he bucked his hips in a wild desperate fucking motion, as if by doing so he could somehow get them off. The feeling was so intense and it struck the male like a hammer blow. He screamed, the pain in his nuts real, and intense, and after that there wasn’t any doubt in his mind that his balls were going to be taken. At that point he knew what was happening, could feel the process underway, and he fought then like there was no tomorrow coming. I've never seen a young man struggle as hard as he did.

Finally, finished with the bander, I took out my big knife and showed it to him. He started begging then, BEGGING, begging me to somehow save his balls. He yelled out his protests, tried to explain he was being screwed, SCREWED he said, explained that his girl had apparently planned his castration all along. Of course, everything he said was true, 100% true, and yet even so it still was legal and not totally undeserved. I did have to sympathize with him to a point, although I don't like men that hit women, no matter their reason and probably would have voted against him too if I had known.

I laid the edge of my blade right up against his balls, just between the two elastic bands and underneath the metal ring he'd worn since he was a boy. He arched his back, and turned to look at me, his eyes pleading as he felt the steel. I winked at him, the way I do when they look at me and I'm going to nut them, and then I started the cut and he screamed like an animal. Even so, he ejaculated again, one more time, a solid squirt that came with some vengeance that pumped out around his cock and ran down between her legs. I sawed up and down as the boy screamed, and then, finally, they were mine, and I held them up and the boy stared at them with disbelief. The girl was still laughing, but then she stopped, and between her giggles she asked: "Can I have them....can I have his balls?"

I took them and nodded, and then dropped them into another specimen jar. As I was getting it sealed, my two cohorts were dragging off the boy, who had collapsed like a deck of fallen cards, spent, and exhausted, a new eunuch and his life now changed in a way he had never envisioned it would go. I handed the girl his balls, and she left laughing hysterically with her prize.

About two hours later there was another boy that we got to watch that I've still got in my mind. The boy was a hunk, and when I saw him my own heart beat faster and my juices flowed. The young man was the star quarterback from Washington High, and he was a big boy with a huge dick and a large sac to go with it. It turned out his girlfriend had broken it off with him literally the week before, when one of her friends had called and told about seeing him with another girl.

Of course, she dumped him and he hadn't had time to find another one, and within a few days more than half of the girls in his school were mad at him. With the Mating Day approaching, he was of course afraid to just ask anyone. His mom and dad were freaking when he came in, the entire family scared and their only son's babymakers on the line.

The computer gave him a match with a nineteen year old woman who had previously rejected more than a dozen boys. She had already earned a reputation for castrating men, and with the dozen she had voted to nut things did not look good for him. Still, she was impressed with his body and she seemed to like the bulge in his pants. After she was naked and in the harness, the boy stripped down and his boner jutted up and it was something I'll never forget. The boy's cock was huge, and fat, and the purple head was so round and the end was covered with precum. He sure was hard, and as he stared at his first pussy he was really eager. What a cock, especially on a teenage boy! God it was beautiful! For an eighteen year old it was the nicest cock I'd ever seen on a boy. It was a cock to remember, and I stared at it and I know it stirred some emotions within me.

The kid was a stud. After he was inside her, and I had padlocked those massive nuts to the metal frame on the girl's harness, I couldn’t' take my eyes off of his ass. It was so firm, and he had powerful legs. His thighs were covered with thick, brown hair, and his armpits were likewise full. His back was in that perfect "V" shape, and his thrusts were deep, powerful, and penetrating. In and out he pumped his thick cock, and as he did I felt and watched and wanted. God he was hot. William wasn't that impressed with him, and yet I could tell that Linda too was aroused.

I stared at his sac of nuts as he did his fucking. They were so fat and so full it's hard to describe them. His balls were just beautiful, and his fat sac bounced up and down as he drove his cock in and out of her pussy. He worked his massive cock, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, and as he did the woman he was fucking started to orgasm. He increased his pace then, and she screamed "OH GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD" and after that she was squirming hard, her entire body shuddering with her climax.

His record wasn't perfect, but I didn't really care, and of all the young teenage men I've watched he was sexiest I've ever seen. In the end, I voted for him, as did Linda and William. The girl being fucked was mad as hell about it, because I think she hated men and only wanted to castrate as many as she could. I think that's the real reason William voted the way he did. In the end it didn't matter.....the boy pumped out a huge wad and flooder her pussy, and we approved the bond and let him keep his balls. I'm sure it will make for an interesting marriage, but it was good to see and without doubt he was the hottest fuck of the day.

The rest of the day went pretty well, and for the most part we just had a lot of happy couples copulating one after the other. Toward the end of the evening though there was this one particular young man that has just stuck in my mind, and I guess I'll never forget him as long as I live. The boy's name was Jon Dover, and he came in with a cute little girl named Amanda. The thing that struck me right away was that the kid was from my old high school, Brenton High, and I still feel a pang of nostalgia whenever that name comes up. In fact, the principal there now is a good friend of mine. Seeing a kid from my old school brought back a lot of memories, and for a short second it was like I was there again.

I know that sounds stupid, and it was. Still, I liked the boy immediately, and my heart went out to him. Luckily, the boy came in with a cute girl, and it was obvious right away that they were just one of those couples that seemed perfect for each other. I couldn’t stop watching them. The boy was all over the girl, in an almost possessive sort of way, bathing her with his attention and making sure she was the center of his universe.

Like I said, I liked the boy. God he was sexy! He was a tall, lanky teen, with blond spiked hair and a smooth chest and that perfect body of the still developing adolescent. As he was laughing with his girl I saw him make a jerking motion with his fist, and that made her laugh. I didn't know what had prompted it, but it was obvious to me from the way he had formed his fist and made the motion that he jacked off regularly. As I looked at him, I pictured him with his own teenage pole in his fist, pumping it, up and down as he worked his meat and pumped his own cock with a vengeance. Hell, I figured he was doing it at least daily, working his own cock and seeking his own pleasure on a regular basis.

I put the couple in the room in their clothes, just to be different, and partly because I enjoy watching two virgins coming together for the first time. The boy reminded me of my own first boyfriend, and I was curious how he would handle his first time with a girl. I snacked on a banana as I watched the couple, because I was hungry and I wanted it and somehow it seemed fitting after all the cocks I had been watching. I was also curious how they would go about it, if we just left them alone. The couple was funny in a way, the boy shy, scared, working the moment and the girl more confident than he. At first the boy laid down next to the girl, too shy to touch her, and yet he talked and chatted with a nervousness that made me want to laugh.

The girl rolled over and onto him...on top of him, and the two stared at each other then in a deep and serious way. He was staring at her and she seemed anxious. She was a beautiful girl, sharp, trim, and very athletic. She had giant tits...round and oh-so-perfect. Her top was loose, and her jeans were tight and seemed to hug her body. Suddenly, as we all watched behind the one way glass, the girl slipped off her shirt and then, with a sweeping movement, she pulled off her athletic bra in a single motion, spilling her big tits out and laying them almost in the boy's face.

She grinned then, and the boy reached up and took them into his hands. He seemed scared, and fumbled with them as he held them, his blue eyes now a shade of grey as he stared at her tits like only a teenage boy can. She kissed him, and the boy's tongue slid out between his lips, wetting them. You could see his erection in his pants after that, and it was obvious to all of us watching.

After a few minutes like that the boy rolled her over, so that he was laying on top of her, still in his clothes, and was kissing her deep and passionately and continuously. Finally, after they had dry humped for a while, just moaning and kissing and hugging, the boy said to her, "Amanda, will you touch me?" His words were hard to hear, he said them so softly, so very carefully, but as he whispered them in her ear you could see the excitement grow in her face.

She grinned. The girl's hand was under him, and from the angle we were sitting I watched as she turned her palm over, cupping the boy through his pants and feeling the big bulge of his manhood. The boy gasped, and his breathing grew staggered, and then he made a whimpering sound as the girl gently squeezed his package. The girl spoke back to him then: "Is that what you wanted?"

The teenage boy gasped again, and then nodded as he breathed and sucked in his air. Then, with not much more than a whisper he answered her "Yes...oh yes it is." Then he said "Do you....do you like it?"

She said "Yes....it's so big....REALLY."

The boy said "Really?"

Amanda smiled, and said "OH YES" as if she knew.

We knocked then, and came into the room, and they looked at us eagerly, like two kids caught smooching on their first hot date. I made Jon turn around, and face away as we had the girl finish getting undressed, stripping her down and getting her in the harness. She was anxious, and while she was a little bit nervous with all of us in the room she seemed to know what she wanted and our arrival had not been unexpected. We let him turn around then, where he could see her, and then as he undressed himself his erection bobbed out and bounced, up and down, almost in time with his heartbeat. He had the perfect body...I estimated his weight at about 145 pounds. He was thin, sexy, and oh-so-cute.

His prick was long and firm, and the end glistened with his eagerness. It jutted out from his reddish blond pubic hair, stiff and hard, and since the rest of him was so young and smooth looking it really made his small patch of pubic hair stand out. But I think it was his cock that held my attention. The end was big and round, and there was a bead of liquid that anointed the head. He was anxious then, and he held out his wrists so we could get the cuffs in place, and then once his ankles were done we left them alone again.

I love watching young virgins, as they grope for the words to say to move things toward where they ultimately both want them to go. The young couple set there then, naked, and started to talk almost as if they were afraid to move forward. It was interesting to listen to them chat it up, and neither seemed to be in a hurry, and yet both still obviously oh-so-anxious.

About then Amanda asked Jon if he ever masturbated, and if so how often he did it and how it was done. I leaned forward, looking through the one way mirror, curious what he would say and eager to hear every word. The boy talked freely about doing it, about how he loved the feeling and how he did it all the time. He described how he would often hump his bed, working his cock over a pillow or just humping within his boxers as he rubbed his dick until he came. The girl seemed fascinated, and I have to admit I found his confessions stimulating myself.

The boy was built, tall and thin, and when he was laying besides her, talking about his teenage techniques he used to masturbate himself, I couldn't take my eyes off of his balls. The boy had a huge sac, really huge, and it was resting and hanging loose the way it does when the air is hot and a young sac is warm. Still, the twin orbs were low in the sac, held there by the ring of gold he had worn since he was a child. It looked small now, the little ring closing the top of his sac like a purse.

As I listened the boy continued telling his girlfriend all the details about how he relieved himself. He described in detail how he would hump the bed, and he even told how he sometimes uses two pillows one on top of the other to make a fake vagina so he could fuck it. He said he would slip his dick within the crack, into a folded pillow case and then pretend it was a girl. As he was telling the tale, his cute girlfriend fondled his cock, and it grew even stiffer then and rock hard and oh-so-eager. She started to pump his cock, and that's when he told her that he would cum fast if she kept it up.

The young couple were both laying on the bed naked, with the young man fingering his girlfriend's pussy and her stroking the boy's dick with a purpose. She whispered something in his ear then, which I missed. Whatever she said though got things moving, and that's when he rolled over, on top of her, and as he did she guided his cock and slipped just the tip into her own pussy. Instantly, the boy was in heaven.

He didn't push it in right away, and instead just savored the feeling of it resting at the entrance. Then, slowly, Jon pushed forward, and as his teenage cockhead pushed past the girl's outer pussy lips, the boy threw his head back and muttered: "Oh Amanda...my GOD.....THAT IS SO GOOD!"

I didn’t want to interrupt the two love birds, but I need to make sure he was secure and his balls were padlocked in position. So, we entered the room then, the team, and as William and Linda tied his wrists to the cables I padlocked his cock to the metal triangle of her harness. The couple ignored us, and the boy didn't move. Then, we were gone in less than a minute and that's when they started to do their fucking.

The boys pushed in and out, using deep and long sliding strokes that went the full length of his cock. He had a huge dick really, stiff as a piece of steel, and he fucked her continuously and passionately. It went on and one, and the girl stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t tell if she was in pleasure or pain. I had the thought that he had busted her hymen and perhaps it was hurting her some. I tried to gage her expression, but she seemed to be deep in thought as the boy fucked her pussy.

We looked through the boy's record, but it was clean, and he seemed a good kid with a lot of potential. I liked him, and for a virgin boy his technique wasn't too bad, and it was obvious he would improve and had the equipment to satisfy any woman. I gave him my vote without any reservation.

William liked the boy too, and liked the innocence of the fuck we had been watching. He was rooting for the boy, and it seemed to be an easy choice. Linda however voted against him, and that surprised me and I asked her about it. She explained she didn't like men that masturbated, and if the boy was doing it so young and had all of these techniques she thought he might be more inclined to be less faithful to his wife and might even continue to do it after he was married.

I tried to argue with her, and explained that all boys masturbate, but she started to quote some scripture about the sins that come when a man spills his seed. How do you argue with that? Worse, she then said her brothers never masturbated when they were growing up and she was certain they weren’t doing it now. I gave up...if she was that naïve what could I say anyway?

Hell, it's her vote and she is free to make it as she wants and she was certainly adamantly set against him. Alas, it was all up to the girl, and as I watched her boyfriend fucking her I knew it was going to go in his favor so I didn't let her vote bother me. With William's vote and mine the boy was forty percent there, and after his girlfriend put in her vote he would make it easily.

The fucking continued for a long time. Too long, for sure but the kid was into it and he was trying very hard to truly make love to his girl. The boy just kept it going, in and out, carefully though and yet the girl stared and said nothing as she felt him doing it. Finally, the boy quickened his pace, and then he arched his back and grunted, his eyes going wide open as he stared at the one way mirror and watched himself ejaculate into the girl that he loved.

Then, in a twist of fate perhaps that I'll never forget, his girlfriend Amanda began to speak to him and when she did a chill ran straight down my spine.

"Jon....uh....I.....I love you.....I really do.....but.....well...I hope you understand...but...I don't think I'm ready to get married yet. I'm just not ready. I tried to be...but I’m not."

The boy was pumping out his wad as she said it, and as he did so he blinked, even as he arched his back and squirted out his load. He was trying to make sense of what she was saying. The teenager pushed himself up, so that he was staring at her....and then he said "What..what are you saying? I love you! I WANT TO MARRY YOU!"

She looked at him, and said "No....I can't. I can't. I'm sorry. I thought I could...but I can't. I CAN'T!" Then she turned her head away, and as she did she pressed the red button that voted against him. Of course, with her vote she doomed his balls.

I could hardly believe it. Still, the law is clear, and it is the woman's prerogative to vote in whatever manner she wishes to vote. I knew this girl wasn’t thinking straight, but then again there is no law against that and lots of young girls freak when they are first fucked. I looked to Linda then, and begged her to change her mind....to change her vote to save this boy and let him keep his nuts. She looked at me, and shook her head, and so after that there was nothing to do but to nut the kid even though he didn't deserve it.

He kept begging his girl...and she was so naïve I couldn't believe it. I tried to move slowly, to give them time to talk it out, but it wasn’t working and the girl was crying and she just didn't seem to be listening. She said "No....I can't...maybe later....in six months..maybe....but not now. Not now Jon....maybe later. Let's get married later."

The boy saw us coming, and he turned to her and his voice cracked, a pubescent crack from his fear that took the tone of his voice up at least three octives. "God... Amanda.... GOD.... they'll take my balls.... PLEASE.... don't...do this.... PLEASE MARRY ME...MARRY ME FOR GOD'S SAKE! YOU SAID YOU WOULD....PLEASE...I LOVE YOU! OUR PARENTS ARE WAITING AMANDA!"

I was so close to him then and I could see the fuzz on his upper lip, a dusting there where he was trying to grow a mustache. As I looked at it it occurred to me that it was a wasted effort now. Linda was tired of the slow game I was playing, and she grabbed his right ankle strap and jerked hard, pulling his right leg outward and stretching it all the way to the bedpost. She looked at William, and he did the same thing with the boy's other leg, stretching it wide too. As they spread the boy's legs his entire scrotum was exposed, and as I looked down there, under his ass and between his legs, I could see his balls now waiting for my knife, and the root of his young cock as it was stuffed in her pussy.

His scrotum was lightly covered with his reddish blond hair, and his sac was round and perfect and engorged with his balls. I hesitated then....I mean, how could I do it? How? Linda touched my shoulder then, and said: "Diana, it's time....and you know it. Take his sac and get it done. There are other boys waiting and we don't have all day."

I took the bander, and somehow managed the courage to slip it up, until I had the loops of rubber over his sac. The boy turned then, and I stared into his eyes as he stared back into mine. I could see wetness in those blue eyes, so deep...and he was staring at me with a little-boy look. Even with his cock buried to his balls in the teenage pussy, he looked oh-so-innocent, and yet my hands were tied and I had no choice. I pulled the release lever, and the twin bands snapped off with a pop, closing the top of his scrotum like a hammer hits a nail.

The young man grunted, "UGRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" and his eyes went wide. God they were blue...intense, and so deep and penetrating, and then as they registered the pain they turned a shade of grey and he squinted from the pain. He started to buck his hips then, literally fucking her again...driving his still hard cock in and out of her dripping pussy even as he wore the bands that had isolated his scrotum from his perfect eighteen year old body.

He was slamming his hips up and down....moving his balls and they slap-slap-slapped into her as he jerked up and down in desperation. He was trying to pull off of her, pulling out so hard that the padlock around his nuts was clinking against the metal ring she wore on her harness. He was jerking his legs too, hard, struggling to close them and to protect his nuts. He was a desperate, young male, struggling so very hard then to get away, flailing with his hands until he pulled against the ties that went to his wrists. I really felt bad for him. I liked him, a lot, and as I stared at those balls and watched his hot little ass go up and down it made me sick to know I had to nut him. I put my hand out and rested it on his bobbing rear...feeling him jerk his round bottom up and down, struggling so hard....so hard and so desperately. There was nothing I could do. I felt for him as I watched him struggle and jerk and thrust.

"DO IT" Linda said.

I was staring right at his balls and his cock as he slid it in and out, and as I looked and watched he continued to struggle, pushing his cock in and out of her pussy so fast it was almost a blur. In and out....faster and faster. It wasn’t as though he was trying to fuck her a second time. It was more like he was trying to get away, to somehow get loose and to end this nightmare, and as he was fighting it and struggling he was fucking her twat in the process. Still, the effect was the same, and as he pumped in and out like a jackhammer the girl began to scream as she shuddered with her very first orgasm that rocked her body with a tremendous spasm.

"DO IT NOW" Linda said again, and I realized my options were gone.

The boy said "Pleaseeee, Amanda, tell them you'll marry me! They're going to take my balls! Please!!!!!"

His girlfriend shook her head from side to side, and then she whimpered "I...I can't. Not yet....give me six months and I'll do it then."

I pulled out my knife, and laid it up, so that it rested directly against the side of his scrotum. I made sure the razor sharp edge was between the two strips of rubber, which were so tight that they were literally pulling his balls closed at the top. He felt the steel....felt my knife, and as he did he increased his struggles even more.

In and out went his cock...in and out....a blur of flesh as his tube pumped into her like running piston. I watched his cute little butt, going up and down, his little asshole puckered closed. I noticed it had a little ring of hair around it, and there was only the slightest dusting of hair on his thighs and legs. He was a smooth kid, really smooth, except for his blond armpits and his small little reddish blond pubic hair. God he was perfect, and the girl was throwing him away. What a waste!

I pushed the knife down then, and let the kid's own motion slide his balls along the edge. The knife started to penetrate, into his sac even as he jerked his hips and pushed his cock in and out of her hole. He was staring at me up over his shoulder until that moment. Then, suddenly, he looked away then, and up, arching his back as he stared straight up into the mirror that filled the ceiling. I increased the sideways pressure on the knife, still letting his motion make the cut for me. At that precise moment, his entire body shuddered, and the boy ejaculated for the last time in his life. His bottom bobbed up and down as he squirted, pumping out his goo in great ropes of cum that filled her pussy for a second time and bubbled out around his flying cock. Still, the same motion pushed the knife through his balls, finishing his own castration as he fucked the girl and shot his final wad. He was staring at the ceiling, watching the entire thing, feeling it too as my knife took his manhood. My blade cut into him just as he squirted out his last wad and then after that he was cumming without his balls.

The girl he was fucking came again too, one more time, and she shuddered as he ejaculated into her, even as he lost his nuts. As the boy's balls came free he just collapsed down on top of his girl. He was covered with sweat and his entire back glistened. I ran my hand down his sweaty back, feeling its wetness and savoring the boy. The nape of his neck was wet too, his entire body sweating where he had struggled so hard to keep what I now held.

I kept his balls. I did. The boy's sac was just so beautiful, and in that jar it looked big, at least big for a teenager who had just turned eighteen. Floating in the jar they looked so wasted, so lonely, the essence of the boy's manhood in the jar and now mine to hold. Its funny, but I'm not going to keep them. No, I am not. The principal from Brenton, like I said, is a friend of mine, and he has asked me if I ever get a sac from one of his seniors then he wants to display it.

He thinks it would be good for the boys in the school, to understand the risks and to make sure they treat their girlfriends right. Somehow, it seems a fitting place for it to go, there on the shelf in the big trophy case, his balls resting forever in their jar and no doubt with the boy's senior picture displayed next to them. It will be a good lesson, and hopefully others will learn from it. Well, at least they are a big set, and perhaps as his friends see them there they will learn a valuable lesson, about what it important and what is not. If nothing else, they will all know that I nutted him.

 

Learning to Love My Penectomy
by Anonymous​

When I was a boy I didn't understand why men had to have their cocks cut off. When they were married off at 19, their wives took them into a ceremony where they held their penises very securely and lovingly and chopped them off.

I remember seeing the husband's penis displayed on its own pedestal in the bedroom. The wife took great care to keep it clean and to display it proudly. All penises were preserved in an erect state, so that when a woman and her husband desired sex, he would strap it on and they would make love.

When a woman's friends, both male and female, visited, they would put the penis in the middle of their group while they talked. Often the women talked about men and their shortcomings, and any males in the group would participate, too. Since they had lost their penises, too, they did not feel the kind of male pride that often made men defensive in these chats.

"But he can't feel anything," I would complain to my girlfriend's mother. Suzi, my girlfriend, and I were only 12 when I began to worry about losing my penis.

"That's right, Mike," her mother would tell us. "You'll understand when you're older that men's penises cause men to be centered on them. They can't make love to their wives properly because of it. When women finally started to cut off their husbands' penises decades ago, lovemaking finally became better for both partners. Besides, having an orgasm isn't the best part about sex. There's the touching, the sensuality, and the non-genital pleasure, too."

"You men had too much pleasure for too long," Suzi would tell me. "And it was always the wrong kind. Now you'll learn."

She was very wise for her age, and she was right. But back then, I didn't know that. Other boys were already dreaming of their penectomies. They fantasized about the day when their loving wives would cut off their organs and allow them to make real love. Girls still dreamt of meeting Prince Charming, but this time he always allowed them to control his most masculine body part. And boys dreamt of meeting the proud women who would take them from being cock-centered teenagers to real men.

Suzi always teased me about it when we were alone. She bit hot dogs seductively, and she broke bananas in half and waved them at me. Sometimes I cried. "But I don't WANT to lose my penis. I like it! It's not fair. Why should men have to face this?"

Suzi hugged me affectionately during these times. "Mike, dear," she said, "penises just get in the way of love. We women don't need them anyway, except for occasional penetration."

Sometimes when I protested, she would take my penis into her mouth and let me cum into it. "But remember, someday you won't be able to do that any longer."

"Can I fuck you?" I asked. "I really want to know what your vagina feels like."

"No, not until you lose your penis and strap it on as a dildo. What kind of girl do you think I am? What kind of boy are you, trying to ruin love with that thing?"

"Do you hate penises?" I asked her one day when we were sixteen.

"No, not at all. I think they're cute. It's just that they need to be cut off first."

"Do you hate cum?" I asked.

"No, cum tastes okay. But the real intimacy comes outside of men's genitals. With women, though, it happens with them. We need to have our genitals. Men don't."

A few of my male friends and I shared the same dread. We knew what was coming to us, yet we resisted accepting it. Every chance we got, we sucked each others' cocks, reveling in the feeling of live, fleshy penises. We fucked each others' asses, too, enjoying the feeling that the seemingly cruel women of the world would forbid us in the future.

But eventually the other boys accepted that their cocks would be cut off. When we got together, they would discuss the kinds of penis cutters on the market. When a man married, he gave his wife a penis cutter, and she used it on him. So, my friends were always talking about their wedding days.

I remember the ads for penis cutters. "So effective, you'll want to cut every man you meet!" said one as it showed a woman chasing men around the office.

"Sausage and hot dogs today, my husband tomorrow!" went another in which a young woman was cutting franks in her mother's kitchen.

Then there was the one where a young wife entered a strip club and looked at all the women admiring a naked dancer who still had his cock. "Obviously, these women have not met the Sensual Possibilities Cutter," the woman told on the screen told us. Then she went up on stage, flirted with the naked man, and cut off his cock. The women in the audience were won over. "Now go home and get a man," she said to them. "And use this!"

Even the men in the movies lost their cocks. They made love cockless. Girls took their boyfriends to the theater to see a new leading man be seduced and get his cock cut off by the leading lady. The boys swooned over the actresses who cut men the best. The ads for these movies would always show the new leading man with an obvious bulge; the leading lady would eye it seductively, and audiences would wonder endlessly what she had in store for him.

* * *​

My friends soon married. I never went to their weddings. How could I? How could they allow this to be done to themselves? As I grew older, I drew attention in the streets and in locker rooms. To others, I looked ridiculous, with my penis hanging down.

"It's like an appendix," said the female shower attendant who supervised the men's locker room. She held my penis one day and shook it. "It's a thing of the past. How are you ever going to have a relationship with that thing in the way? Some men, I tell you!"

* * *​

By the time I was nineteen, I was still not married. Neither was Suzi. We loved each other dearly, but I would not marry her unless I could stay intact. I left home and joined the underground anti-cutting movement. There I found women who preferred men with penises. For the first time, I had sex with a woman. I felt the beautiful, warm, wet feeling of a woman's vagina.

"Isn't it beautiful?" my partner, Mary, asked me. "So alive, so hot."

We fucked for months. I began to notice that every time we had sex, all I really cared about was cumming inside her vagina. Her pleasure didn't matter to me. I felt no pleasure in the rest of my body-my ass, my chest, my face. I was all penis. I began to understand what Suzi and her mother meant. Why were women so wise and men so stupid, I wondered? In the back of my mind I heard Suzi answering, "Because we aren't at the mercy of our genitals."

I fucked over a dozen women, in their cunts, their asses, and their mouths. All I wanted was to shoot my cum into a woman. And they obliged.

"Mary, do you get anything out of all this?" I asked her one day.

"Yes," she said. Then she fell silent.

"What is it, Mary?"

"Well … most of the time, I don't. I cum, but I don't feel much intimacy. We have the same problem, Mike. But it'll get better. I know it will. We will eventually restore common sense to the world."

It didn't get better. It was nothing but cumming. One night I screamed at Mary, "This is so unfulfilling! I hate our sex life! I wish we could both just lose our cocks and cunts and really FEEL each other!"

"Darling, dear, I already do feel you. I have that capability, even though you interfere with it sometimes. Why can't you have it, too?"

It was then that I knew she didn't understand. The whole penis-preservation movement didn't understand. Yes, I realized, there were even women in the world who weren't as wise as I'd thought. There would never be real relationships this way. I grabbed Mary's hand and put it on my crotch and told her, "Say good-bye to this. Our mothers were right - we shouldn't have them." That night I packed up and went home.

* * *​

The next morning I found myself at Suzi's house. She was not yet home. I met her mother outside, and we hugged and kissed tenderly.

"I see someone is still resisting," she said upon feeling the bulge in my pants.

"Oh, Ms. Johnson, I don't want to resist anymore. I've learned my lesson. I want to marry your daughter and let her cut it off. Please let me marry her!"

Mrs. Johnson hugged me tightly. "I always knew you would come around, Mike. The stubborn ones make the best converts. Come with me, and we'll shop for a penis cutter today!"

Together, my future mother-in-law and I shopped for cutters. For the first time I noticed how happy the men at the mall looked. They genuinely loved being with their wives. They didn't look at other women. When I went to the bathroom, I asked a young man if I could watch him pee sitting down.

"I finally gave in," I told him as we entered the stall. "I want to see how a real man pees."

I watched him as he sat on the toilet. At first, his pee dribbled over his balls, but soon it came out in a nice golden arc. When he finished, I insisted on wiping him.

"I'll need the practice," I winked.

Ms. Johnson and I entered an upscale department store that catered to couples.

"Going at it again?" the clerk asked her. Ms. Johnson laughed with him. "No, Mr. Lewis, meet my new son-in-law."

"Mike, it's about time," he said. "I thought I'd grow another one before I would see you come to your senses!"

Finally, Ms. Johnson and I found the perfect cutter for me. The ad said, "From WifeLovers, Inc. Built by men to be used by women. It's the second best gift you can give your wife."

It was elegant. Studded with diamonds, crafted with iron and plated with gold, it had a built-in cauterizer. I knew that I wanted this one. My heart raced as I knew that soon I would have the woman I'd always wanted.

* * *​

Suzi was overjoyed when she came home. That night we had supper. Because it was a special occasion, her mother brought out Mr. Johnson's penis on its pedestal and placed it in the center of the table. We looked at it lovingly. Suzi's parents told us tale after tale of their happy lives together, and Suzi and I looked across the table at each other. We played footsie underneath the table. Discreetly, I caressed her vaginal area with my foot, and she caressed my cock with hers. At the end of the dinner, they allowed me to hold Mr. Johnson's penis. I kissed it and licked it.

"It's beautiful," I told him. "Someday Suzi and I will present my penis to our children-in-law, and they will become adults."

* * *​

The wedding day was joyous. Friends and family came from miles around to see "the stubborn one" get married. I saw how happy the men were. They didn't flirt with other women, and they didn't brag about exploits. They were domesticated, loving men. I was anxious to be like them.

At the ceremony I presented a wedding ring and the cutter to Suzi. She gasped with delight when she saw it. Then she presented me with my ring.

"Mike, do you promise to faithfully give your wife your penis, to cherish her, and to love her wholly?"

"I do."

"Suzi, do you promise to guard your husband's sexuality, and to preserve, protect and respect the penis that he will give you tonight?"

"I do," said my lovely bride.

Then the priestess pronounced us "woman and husband." The crowd cheered.

Very soon, I would finally lose my penis.

* * *​

When it came time for the cutting, everyone gathered around. Well-wishers told us how happy we looked. Then Suzi and I took off all our clothes. With us, the men in the group also did. When we kissed, people cheered. Then it was Suzi's job to give me my final erection. She seductively rubbed her body on mine, caressed me with her breasts, massaged my buttocks, and sucked my penis. I was hard in no time. She tongued my asshole and let me inhale her pussy odor. She rubbed her wetness on my face to keep me aroused. The crowd sat spell-bound. Never had I been so aroused.

Then came the traditional teasing of the husband. She bound my cock and tucked it between my legs so that it was out of the way. Standing up, she motioned me forward. After I drew near, she held my face in her hands and said, "Fuck me, my lovely. Shove your cock all the way into my cunt." She proceeded to spread her legs wide. I moved between them and tried to fuck her, but I couldn't. "Come on, big man, show me what you can do with that thing!" But I couldn't do anything, because my cock was tucked. The crowd roared.

"Soon you're not going to have that thing. I WILL! Do you accept that?"

"Yes, honey, I willingly give you my penis. Please cut it off!"

"Thank you, Mike." Then Suzi untied my penis. It hurt very much, but that no longer mattered to me. She lay me down carefully and lowered herself onto my cock. I came instantly. All men did at these ceremonies.

"Mike, that is the last time you will ever cum in my vagina. You will never ejaculate your semen into my mouth or my anus. Do you accept that?"

"Yes, Suzi, I accept."

"Then stand up, please." She got off of me and stood up, and so did I. My cock was still hard. Then Suzi took the cutter and placed it around the base of my penis, as far as it would go. "Are you ready, Mike?"

"Yes. Please cut off my penis."

With those words, she took hold of my penis very firmly and rubbed it. Then she squeezed the handles of the cutter, and the blades came together. My beautiful penis, so long treasured by me, so long abused, finally fell to the floor. Suzi picked it up and kissed it. She gave it to me to kiss. Then she passed it around the crowd to kiss.

Looking down, I saw a freshly cauterized but fairly smooth area where my penis had been. It would smooth out fully in the days ahead. Because of 21st century technology, the cutter had injected anesthetic and other drugs into my body. The pee-opening would be prevented from closing, and I would not bleed. Neither would I feel any more pain.

The men and I hugged. Where our penises had been, there were only smooth areas that touched each other. They congratulated me, and I thanked them.

My severed penis was taken away to be quickly preserved and mounted on a small oak pedestal. It would be ready in a few hours.

The wedding night was about to begin.

* * *​

Later, Suzi and I were alone in our suite. Together, we sat on the toilet and peed the wine away. In fact, we sat on the toilet together for an hour, drinking champagne, kissing, hugging, and letting the pee dribble out of our holes. Lovingly, we wiped each other clean.

In bed, we kissed and hugged again. I paid careful attention to her body. I had thought that it would take me months to get over my de-cocking, but I found very fast that I really wanted to get over it. I wanted to focus on Suzi's lovely body. And with no need to penetrate her, I could enjoy the sensations of her touching my body.

I caressed her beautiful breasts, and she caressed my chest. I massaged her wet, bulging clit, moving it in circles. I loved how my fingers were soaked with her juices. It was the first time I'd noticed my own hands during sex. Then I slipped two fingers into her warm pussy and finger-fucked her. Suzi moved vigorously against them. I watched the sensations of ecstasy on my wife's face as she came several times.

Suzi rubbed my balls and the area where my penis had been. I liked the warm, tingly, pleasant feelings there. With my urge to cum diminished, I could relax and enjoy the sensuality between us.

Then Suzi climbed atop me. Placing her mushy cunt on my balls, she rubbed against me while kissing me deeply and holding my head in her hands. I began to ache all over, bucking against her and grabbing her sweating ass. Her cunt smell and my own smell only added to my arousal. But there was nothing I could do about it. I calmed down and instead let myself feels my wife's body on top of mine, her breasts against mine, her pussy on my balls, and her heavy breathing in my face.

By now, my whole body was alive! Better that than just my cock!

After several orgasms for my wife and a lot of good feeling throughout my own body, she reached for my cock. It was sitting on its pedestal on the nightstand. Taking it in her hands, she brought it to both of our mouths, and we kissed it gently on the head. We licked it up and down. We took turns deep-throating it. My cock tasted wonderful! We watched each other's eyes as we shared this part of us.

Then Suzi rubbed my cock between her breasts, under her arms, over her face, in her hair, on her belly, on her cunt, and up and down the crack of her ass. This enthralled me. I could now concentrate on what was happening to my cock.

Then she handed it to me. I ran it over my chest, under my arms, on my face, between my ass cheeks, and over my hairy balls. The sweat of my ass and balls slicked my cock nicely. I even tried to "put back" my penis by putting it where it used to be. I looked at Suzi as I did this. Together, we laughed.

Knowing what I was to do next, I secured a strap-on to my hips. Then I placed my penis into it. My wife lay back. I gently spread her legs, climbed between them, and placed my penis to her lips. My penis pushed them apart, and slowly slid in. Holding Suzi, I fucked her lovingly. The sensation was very strange. While I could penetrate her just fine, I felt very little arousal. Instead, I felt an emotional melting tinged with a little bit of arousal. It was enough to make me want to have sex, but not enough to want to cum in two minutes.

As I bathed myself in the feeling, my wife came again and again, screaming into my ear as I held her. We later fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *​

My life with Suzi has been a contented one. We had children and a loving home. We displayed my penis proudly when company came. Although my sexual arousal was still there, it was lessened, and it was no longer centered on a penis. I had enough so that I could enjoy being sexually aroused but not needing to orgasm. I lived in a constantly warm sexual feeling, and I was happy that I did not have a penis.

 

The Modern Adjusted Male
by JustOneGuy​

It has been over four generations since males were left totally intact. After four generations, what once seemed strange pretty much becomes normal. As a modern woman, I always thought that I would be very happy and satisfied with the modern idea of a normal man. It was good enough for my mother; it was good enough for my grandmother; it was good enough for everybody; so it was good enough for me.

I plan to bury this document when I complete it, so I have no idea what the world will be like when and if it is read. Perhaps things will change again. They say the world was much different 100 years ago. Full of male aggression and control. Who knows what it will be like in another 100 years. So perhaps I should begin by explaining what the world I live in is like. Only then will you fully be able to understand how strange and unique my life experience truly was.

Almost 100 years ago, society underwent a major upheaval. I’m not a historian, so I can’t explain how or why it happened like it did. But in the end, women came to dominate the social system in a way never before known in history. A collective acknowledgement spread amongst the female population of the day that the source of most if not all of the world’s serious problems existed because of the male’s aggressive drive for sex. It was generally believed that human evolution would eventually readjust the male attitudes, but that would take thousands and thousands of years. The world and society could not take that long. Nature needed some assistance.

Many theories and proposals were suggested for correcting this problem, and all received vigorous debate. Simple castration of males, either chemically or surgically, was ruled out almost immediately. The males would have to be castrated before puberty, before the aggressive drives took control of their bodies and permanently tainted their minds. The main problem then was sperm production. How would the human race perpetuate itself without a steady supply of healthy male seed? Sure, technology could preserve frozen seed gleaned from the current male population, but what if something when wrong or the seed began to decline in health. There would be no more sperm unless males were allowed to mature normally—an unthinkable prospect. Besides, with all the males impotent, wives would get no sexual satisfaction from their husbands. (Women after all have needs as well, just not needs that lead to dangerous anti-social behavior.)

It was then that women realized that the sexual drive of a man, which emanated from his testicles, was not the real source of male aggression. The true source was his penis and his insatiable desire for the pleasure his organ gives him. Once this rational was accepted, the solution to the problem was self-evident. For the past four generations, males have undergone a process that makes them model citizens in the global community — Adjustment.

Shortly after birth, all males are circumcised. This medical procedure was once done for hygiene or religious purposes. But in the modern era, it is preformed solely for the social ramifications. All males (fathers, brothers, cousins, friends) and all females (mothers, sisters, aunts) must come to expect and accept the idea of modifying the penis through surgery. Boys are then allowed to grow up as normal. However, at the age of 12, right before puberty begins and the testicles begin to cascade the male with sexual hormones, a further surgery is performed. Every boy is brought to a local clinic and officially Adjusted, as it is known commonly. Basically, the glans or head of the penis is amputated. In fact, all of the penis is amputated back to the circumcision scar. This insures that the male will be left with no major nerve endings in his reproductive organ. The glans and whatever shaft was removed back to the circumcision scar is placed in a jar and preserved. It is given to the family to be kept in a special vault. When the male eventually dies, the jar is collected and buried with its onetime owner.

The reasons for the Adjustment should be very clear. With the nerve endings of his penis removed, a male is no longer capable of a sexual orgasm. Since he is Adjusted prior to puberty, he does not miss the pleasure that, just 100 years ago, men thought they couldn’t live without. Since they are now incapable of feeling massive sexual pleasure, men are more reasonable and productive members of society. The need for constant pleasure or servicing of their sexual needs is no longer the driving force in their lives. Since their testicles remain intact, they still feel desire for women and can produce children. But since pleasure is not their main focus in the pursuit of women, men rarely cheat on their wives. Women’s sexual needs are fulfilled because a male is left with at least half, but usually more, of the original length of his penis. The remainder gets hard, so a man can penetrate his mate, providing amazing pleasure for her—and a pleasant sensation for him. But now the male is driven to please his mate during sex, not himself. Most men will say that they enjoy sex with their partners, but women usually want it more and get more out of it.

I am told that this current social structure almost completely reverses the sexual roles of husbands and wives from 100 years ago. Then, women enjoyed sex, but struggled to fulfill the needs of their husbands, who NEEDED sexual releases almost constantly. Now, men enjoy sex but are most fulfilled when they are able to give their wife the maximum pleasure.

Some males are able to fertilize a woman through the dripping of semen through their penis during intercourse. Since males no longer have orgasms as women do, the natural ejaculation that used to produce children is rarely possible. When it is possible, men report a pleasant sensation between their legs, but it is nothing like the volcano of pleasure that we women experience when we orgasm. Still, those men who are capable of this mild ejaculation report that it satisfies them. When a man is not capable of it (about half I believe), the couple must go to a fertility clinic. There, semen is removed from the male’s inner body and implanted into his wife. As you can imagine, this process had the fringe benefit of cutting the rate of unintended pregnancies by over half.

This was the world into which I was born and raised. I had a younger brother named Simon, so I knew the steps a boy went through to be socialized in our society. I had seen his penis several times before he was Adjusted. I remember being curious about it, but mostly because his crotch looked so much different from my own. When I was 17, Simon turned 12 and went to be Adjusted. When he came home, we through a big party for him. I brought my new boyfriend, Jared Tapper. He seemed a little distracted during the whole night, especially when he met my brother and when my mother read the traditional text explaining the importance and sacredness of a boy’s Adjustment Day.

Jared was not my first boyfriend. I had gone out with two other guys in high school. In fact, I had pestered my previous boyfriend into giving me his virginity only a few weeks before I met Jared. My first sexual experience was not the catharsis I thought it would be. The boy’s name was Mark Dorsed. I was so excited as he mounted me. It was the first time I saw a mature Adjusted male. His erection was about 3 inches long, pasty white, with a rounded end that looked like a tied off sausage. I noticed the little hole at the bottom front of Mark’s little hard sausage and realized that it was where he urinated. I remember thinking, wow, boys are so much different from girls. I guess that was a strange thought for a woman to have as she is penetrated for the first time, but I want to be totally honest. As Mark pushed 3 inches into my body, I began to feel his pelvis pressure my clitoris. He rocked his pelvis against me, my clit pinned between the hard bone of his sausage and the tangled grass of his hairy crotch. It felt good, but not as good as my fingers. I grabbed his butt and began to try to guide his thrusts, to increase the speed to suit what I had come to expect when masturbating. It felt better, but Mark just didn’t seem to be in sync with the kind of lovemaking I wanted. He asked me if I was enjoying it, and I smiled and told him, of course. But after twenty minutes, I faked my orgasm and let him stop. I was a little distraught, as if something was wrong with me. I mentioned this to my mother. She told me not to worry, that most guys don’t know what they are doing the first time and will improve with practice. But she also told me that if my boyfriend continued to under-perform, I should buy an extender for him.

Before I got to that point I had met Jared. I dumped Mark for him within a week. Jared was very up front with me and told me that he didn’t want to be pressured into sexual activity. I liked him so much that I actually didn’t mind. I figured that there was time enough to warm Jared up to sex. We dated for a year. When we graduated from high school, I prepared to go to college. Jared’s parents had been killed in a car accident when he was 15, so his financial means were pretty limited. That meant that, while I went off to college, he would be left behind working as a mechanic. I was pretty upset about this, but he was positively vexed.

A month before I was to leave for college, he took me to the park. After a long walk in the sun, I sat on a bench to look at the lake. Jared lowered himself to his knee and raised the clear sparkling jeweled ring up toward me. “Will you marry me baby?” he said. I have to admit that I was shocked. In this day and age, a woman is expected to propose to a man. Of all my friends who were not married or engaged, all had popped the question to their men. I think that Jared was a little worried about my shocked response. He lowered his head a little, and when he looked back up into my eyes, he had the pleading expression of a puppy worried that he would get into trouble.

I placed my hands on his cheeks, feeling the tiny prickles of his freshly shaved face. “Yes, baby. Of course I will.” His grin lit me up. A look of relief flooded over his face. I took his head into my arms and held it close to my breasts. “I didn’t mean to worry you for that second. But it is so rare for a girl to be proposed to these days, I was taken a little aback.”

“I know, but I was worried that if you went to college, you would meet someone else. I had to propose to you now. I didn’t want to take the chance of losing you,” He said. The feeling of being so wanted and so loved was indescribable. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. Jared had wanted me to be his wife so much, he had actually bought a ring and proposed. I’ve never in my life, before or since, met a man who would do that.

He pulled his head away from my arms and looked at me directly in the eyes. “Sarah, there is something that you have to know. Now that we are engaged, I can finally tell you. I know that I haven’t been the most… exciting of your boyfriends. I know that you’ve wanted more than I felt comfortable giving.”

“Oh no Jared, I don’t feel that way. I love you….”

“I know, but I need to finish Sarah, before I lose my nerve. This is probably the scariest moment of my life.” My mind was swimming. What was he talking about? Jared looked to the ground. I could tell this was difficult for him. I put my hand on his head and massaged him through the thick brown hairs of his head. “I’m not Adjusted,” he said.

It took me a moment to understand what he had just said. My hand jerked from his head. It was an involuntary action. He looked up at me with that same look of fear as when he proposed. In a flash I understood why he had been so scared—and why he had proposed. He knew that I was brought up by a traditional family. If I turned him in, he would be immediately Adjusted—something that was unheard of in an adult. Adjustment is something for little boys. And I knew why he had proposed to me. He loved me so much, but he also NEEDED me so much. He had lived a life in shadows, hiding what he was. Now he had found a woman he loved and his body NEEDED the powerful release that nature demanded. The young man in front of me suddenly became in my mind a wild animal, driven by needs I didn’t understand. He was a throw back to 100 years before, when men dominated the world and were dominated by their own need for pleasure. I should have been repulsed.

But I wasn’t.

I put my hand back to his face. He placed his trembling hands on my knees. He had finally admitted his secret. This was his moment of truth. “I love you Jared,” I said. “I will be your wife and you will me my husband—all of you.” I knelt down next to him and we hugged each other tightly.

Over the next few weeks, as the wedding preparations began in earnest, Jared explained how he had come to be the way he was. His parents did not believe in Adjustment. His father, in fact, had never been adjusted. When Jared was born, they had him circumcised as prescribed by law. But when he was 12 years old, his parents used forged documents to modify his medical records. He told me how difficult it was to conceal from everyone. He could not play sports in high school for fear of the common showers. He rarely used a urinal for fear that someone would catch a glimpse of his penis. An underground network of Unadjusted people and their supporters worked to conceal their status. Most important were the medical establishments and personal that treated and recorded the medical needs of individuals. He told me that an unadjusted penis was so easily spotted that he could only go to specific doctors for our premarital exam.

I’ll never forget my exam. We drove 50 miles away and visited a small clinic that seemed to treat mostly homeless people. Jared said that a married couple that had been friends with his parents ran it. I really felt out of place in the waiting room. The folks waiting were dressed in rags or dirty old clothes. Jared and I must have stuck out like a sore thumb. It certainly wasn’t the type of clinic I had ever gone to. That was the first time I realized how much life might be different when married to an unadjusted man. When our names were call, Jared and I parted ways. He went into the men’s side of the clinic; I went into the women’s. A very friendly older woman took me behind a curtain and began my exam. I didn’t ask her age, but I would guess that she was in her fifties.

As she began the examination, I’m sure that she could sense my discomfort. “I can see that you are not a virgin,” she said. I nodded yes in reply. “You and Jared? Or someone else?”

“Someone else,” I replied, expecting a lecture.

Instead the woman simply smiled. “Well then, I can tell you that you are in for quite a pleasant surprise.” She winked at me, and I knew. Her husband was like Jared, unadjusted. Jared was being examined by a man just like he was. And this woman knew what was in store for me. I fought the urge to question her intently. It would not have been proper. And besides, Jared told me I could never talk about it—even with someone who seemed to know about unadjusted people or claimed to be one.

We were married a few weeks later in a traditional ceremony. Jared had 5 groomsmen, all friends from high school. As I looked at their crotches in their tuxedos, I wondered if any of them were unadjusted. I doubt it. I had known most of them since grade school myself, and even attended most of their Adjustment Day parties. As I walked down the isle, Jared’s smile blazed towards me from the altar. I looked at his crotch and then again to the crotches of his five groomsmen, thinking about how different they must be. And the loyal friends that were standing by my future husband and were supporting our decision to marry had no idea that their penises were so different from the man they were standing with. I wished I could ask them about it. But Jared had been very firm with me that it could never be talked about with ANYONE. So I didn’t ask.

The night of our wedding, my parents rented the suite at a local hotel. My heart was jumping as he unlocked the door and led me inside. I wasn’t a virgin, but my previous experience had been over a year ago and pretty much forgettable. I considered myself for all intents and purposes a virgin for my husband—my unadjusted husband.

Jared and I kissed passionately by the bed. I unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Jared’s chest was strongly muscled and hairless, yet much more masculine than Mark’s had been. I rapped my arms around him and felt his strong shoulders, then kissed him deeply as I rubbed my hands around his head, down his chest, to his dime-sized nipples. I could taste his hot breath in my mouth. I can’t explain it, but the experience was so much different from my experience with my previous boyfriend. The man who was now my husband seemed like an animal to me. The feeling of his warm moist breath against my skin sent shivers down my spine. He wanted something from me, not just FOR me, but FROM me.

Then Jared took control, and I knew once and for all that this moment would be COMPLETELY different from my experience with Mark. Jared gently pressured me onto the bed, and I didn’t resist. He slid my shirt off from my shoulders.

My bra covered my full breasts. He watched me as I reached behind and unsnapped it. I hesitated for only a moment, then let it fall to the floor. A deep sigh escaped his lips. I could almost feel the lust radiating from his body. My old boyfriend had wanted to make love for me; my husband wanted—no, needed—to make love TO me. His hands moved toward my breast, touching the side and sliding downward. His palms were so warm, almost burning me with their desire; my nipples leaped to a full erection. He kneaded my breasts, pinching the nipples, tickling with his fingertips. My skin began to react to his touch. He slowly began to move down my stomach in an almost ticklish way, then back up to my nipple. I felt my eyes wanting to close, let him do his will on me. I felt like just flopping back on the bed and letting my husband—my man—do whatever he wanted and needed to do. He reached down to the zipper on my jeans, taking them off, my panties going with them leaving me bare and open for his penetration. He tickled my stomach, my thighs, and back up to my breasts enjoying the feel of the soft tissue underneath the palms of his hands. He pushed me back gently only onto the soft, cool sheets. I lay on my back, letting his hands wander over me. I could feel my pussy getting wet with each second that his skin touched mine. His fingers finally reached a place between my thighs that only one other man had known. I smiled; what a joke. Mark hadn’t been a man; he was a trained puppy compared to Jared. This was a man wanting me, hungering for my body in a way I couldn’t understand. I pressed against his hand, teasing myself, wanting more.

"You like that?" He said not waiting for an answer. His fingers parted the lips and entered, playing games with my clitoris, the other hand gently rubbing my breast, my stomach, my thighs, my hips, then back to my breasts. I squirmed with a twinge of trepidation—I felt so out of control. But as I heard Jared moan with lust as he felt the pleasure of a woman for the first time, my nervousness turned to delight and anticipation.

"Touch me," I sighed. His fingers danced between my legs; my wetness begged to be satisfied.

"Do you want to come?" He said, his voice shaking, his hand quivering. It was the first time he asked me what I wanted, but it didn’t feel like weakness. Mark had quizzed me on my desires like a computer wanting to make sure he did every duty correctly, so that I would be pleased with me. Jared’s question burned with desire. It was taking all his strength to hold back from fulfilling the needs of his masculinity. Perhaps a weaker man would not have been able to wait any longer, but not my husband.

I could only nod my head, breathless, my eyes closed tightly, enjoying the sensation.

He withdrew his fingers from my pussy, squeezing first, pulling my orgasm back a bit. Then I felt his tongue against my excited sex. Instinctively I ground my hips harder against his mouth, wanting it to make me scream out in joy.

"Make me come," I breathlessly whispered. I was begging for my man to satisfy me.

"Now, baby, now," he said.

A loud sigh escaped my throat as I shivered and moaned. I rocked my hips up and down against his tongue, not wanting the sensation to stop. It was the best orgasm I had ever had. I calmed, and lay still as I opened my eyes. Jared’s eyes beamed back at me, his smile brightening the dimly lit bridal suit. I realized that it was the first time my husband had seen a woman cum—the first time he had given a woman an orgasm. That moment was quite and achievement for him, given how men were expected to perform in a marriage. Suddenly I remembered that I too would see for the first time, tonight, a man have an orgasm.

"You’re beautiful," Jared said, moving up on the bed to kiss me. His lips reached for mine, pressing hard. His hands wandered over the very parts that he had explored only a few moments before. I pushed my body up against his, feeling ever curve and bulge. I wanted him so bad. It was time for me to take control.

My hands were shaking. I had no idea what to expect. I had seen my little brother a few times before he was Adjusted, but he was a little boy. This was a grown man, my husband. My mind drifted back to the woman at the doctor’s office. I wondered if she had felt the same way with her husband the first time.

Jared rolled over onto his back. I rubbed my hands over his bare chest and leaned over to kiss him. I caressed his knee with my hand, rubbing up into his inner thigh. I could feel his breath shutter as he felt my hand slowly advancing toward his crotch. He was so excited; it was the first time a woman had ever touched him so intimately. In a smooth, fluid motion I brought my hand to the middle of his trousers. I cupped the softness there, and Jared breathed a hot breath against my cheek. I felt the soft mass between his legs—his testicles. Then I moved my hand up over the hard pole above. It was pointed straight up to his navel. I could see the outline of it in his pants. As my hand passed over it, Jared breath became jagged, a soft moan escaped his lips. His eyes were closed. He suddenly seemed unmanly to me, whimpering in pleasure. What was I thinking? As I looked at my husband’s hard body, his strong chest, broad shoulders, the thin curls of hair that led from his navel down into the front of his pants. This was a strong, powerful 19-year-old male—my husband—it was just that his body was so overpowered with anticipation with what was about to happen. I felt his large hand on my back, rubbing gently. I realized that I had paused with these thoughts. Before he spoke, I reached for the front of his trousers.

I unbuttoned the front of his pants, pulling the zipper down along the thick hard mass underneath. He raised his behind off the bed so I could pull them down off his muscular legs. I teased the hairs growing on his lower legs on my way back up to his waist. He was wearing gray boxer briefs. I could see the outline of his masculine tool stretching against the cotton. It was so much bigger than Mark’s. It seemed to be double the size I remembered. I gripped the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulled down, my eyes trailing the underwear as I pulled it down and off of his feet. When I rose back up to his waist, I saw him for the first time.

My husband’s crotch was accented with a thick tangled bush of brown sex hair, the symbol of his maturity and fertility. And growing from that clump of grass was his mighty penis. I grasped the shaft at the base and held it up to see. I had of course seen the shaft of a penis before. But this tool was almost totally alien to me. I measured with my fingers and eyes—my husband’s member was about 6 inches tall, far out doing my previous boyfriend’s 3 inches. But the real differences began about 4 inches from the base. I saw a dark brown circle that went around his shaft, his circumcision scar. And above it, a ring of soft pink skin, the remnants of his foreskin. And above that, the strangest body part I had ever seen. His penis was crowned with a flared red knob. It almost looked like a mushroom, I thought; the cap flared out over the long thick stem that it topped. I looked at it from all angles, especially the underside. There I saw the two edges of the flared head arching up toward the slit at the end and come together where that small slit began. The slit was dotted with a tear of clear liquid, which I touched with my finger. I trail of clear fluid followed my finger’ it was like saliva. I brought my hand was gripping the base up on the shaft and pumped it once, feeling the bumps and veins in the soft stretched skin.

“Oh Sarah,” Jared moaned, his deep voice ringing in the room. My hand pumped over his tool, feeling the soft sponge of his helmet head that now looked almost purple. I felt his fingers find my pussy again, and I let him invade my wetness with his soft fingers. As I pumped, I felt his fingers dancing inside me. His upper body was straining to stretch enough to reach my pussy. His breathing was becoming more erratic. “Baby, please….” He whispered, his voice betraying his own apprehension. “Will you suck on it?”

His request stunned me. I had never even heard of a woman sucking on a man’s penis. But hadn’t my husband just finished pleasuring my clit with his tongue? As I looked at the throbbing helmet of my husband’s erection, I suddenly realized that he wanted to feel my tongue on it as much as I wanted to feel his tongue on my clit. The throbbing, plump, purple mushroom head that capped his long pole was nothing more than a giant clitoris—a clit on a stick. Looking back, I was so slow; it seems so obvious to me know. But back then the whole concept of an unadjusted man was so new and bizarre—and I’m not just taking about the appearance of it. It took my husband’s breathless plea for me to provide him with pleasure and to convince my mind of exactly what this fat flared knob meant to my man.

A moment passed as I pondered these ideas. Jared’s hips strained against my arm and my pumping hand. He whimpered softly as he arched his back and slightly raised his butt of the sheets. How could I refuse this strong man, who loved me so much and had just provided me the ultimate pleasure a woman can feel? How could I refuse to provide the same amazing pleasure to him? Suddenly, the entire concept of sexual activity as I understood it growing up seemed too empty, so one sided. My husband needed me to do something for him that he couldn’t do for himself, something he had dreamed about receiving since he hit puberty. I lowered my head and kissed the tip of his helmet. A small string of clear liquid clung to my lips, creating a tiny bridge to the end of his phallus. Jared’s hips strained upward in an involuntary motion. He sucked in a deep breath. I stretched my tongue out and relaxed it, letting it lay against my lower lip, and licked hard against the underside of he penis. I felt the gentle curves of the underside of his helmet against my tongue. Jared’s body was shaking. “Oh God, Oh Sarah,” he groaned loudly, exhaling his deep breath. Encouraged, I took his helmet into my mouth and sucked hard. It had the faint taste of salt and seemed hot even against the warmth of my tongue. His mushroom filled my mouth. I found that I could only suck down to his circumcision scar, but he didn’t seem to mind. I realized that the tissues in my mouth, the part that was giving Jared so much pleasure, were totally missing from my old boyfriend Mark, my little brother Simon, every other male I had ever known. As my mouth bobbed on his cock, my sandpaper tongue racked the underside of his member. I strained my eyes up at his face. His head was pointed at me, as if to watch what was happening between his legs, but his eyes were closed tight, his mouth hanging open breathlessly. The muscles of my husband’s face where contorted as if in agony, but I knew it was from a totally different feeling. I was giving him pleasure, so much pleasure. He needed me so much. He threw his head backward against the bed and arched his back, stretching his arms out along the sheets as if straining to grasp something on either side of him. “OH GOD, Sarah,” He moan with his exhale. He took a deep breath, his strong chest rising. And with his next exhale: “OH that feels so GOOD.” He was in the same position I had been moments ago. I never thought I would ever hear a man talk that way, but there he was.

His fingers had long ago forgotten about my pussy, but I didn’t mind. My crotch was still radiating half-remembered waves of pleasure, and I was so interested in his responses to my mouth, I hadn’t even realized when his teasing fingers had stopped. I felt his hands on my head. “I need you, baby. I want you now.”

I released his penis from my mouth and rolled over on my back. Jared was on top of me in an instant. He heavy weight of his body pressed me farther into the soft sheets of the bed. I felt his hot member brush my thigh, and I reached down to help him. I grasped his shaft with my hand, and he thrust forward into my fist with a groan. His body was hot and hungry—his cock needed friction of fulfill its desire, and his body would do almost anything at this point to feed its hunger. My God, he was so different from Mark’s quiet, passive thrusting. I tilted the head of his penis toward my opening and groaned as I felt the flared knob of his prong slip between my slit. Jared rocked his hips forward, and I felt his plump male mushroom pop past my outer lip. “Oh God, baby,” Jared gasped over me. I held his arms and felt his muscles straining to hold him up. His body was totally consumed with desire.

He continued to rock forward, and I whimpered under him. I felt his cock push past the point my fingers could go, push past the point Mark’s 3” penis stump had attained. Then I felt my husband’s loose bag of testicles come to rest against my ass and his hairy pubic bone press against my hairy mound. I had six inches of my husband inside of me. It felt impossibly deep. But when he rocked backwards for the first time, pulling his thick rod back toward my entrance, I suddenly felt completely empty. Not for long. With a loud groaning breath, my man pushed forward again, and I felt him deep once more. I rapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling his head down closer to me. He looked straight into my eyes as he began to thrust faster. I could feel the thick throbbing knob that capped his pole raking my inner walls with each movement. He dropped his head to mine and we kissed, breathing hot strained breaths into each other’s mouths.

Then Jared dropped his weight onto his elbows, and I felt his head come to rest beside my own. His thrusting now seemed even deeper, and I ran my hands up and down his sweaty back. Each hump of his pelvis sent a wave of pleasure through my body. I whimpered and squealed which each thrust. But Jared literally grunted like a lion. “Ohhh, God, baby, oh god, huh, huh, huh, owhhh, babe, huh.”

I reached and arm down to his butt and felt it flex and tighten with each thrust. His body was moving on top of me like a freight train. It was like he couldn’t thrust fast enough; the strokes became shorter and shorter until his pelvis almost never left mine. He grunted into my ear unintelligible syllables. His body had become a like a wild beast, hungry for ever rising pleasure. His mind was drowning in it, every muscle in his body tightening involuntarily. I barely felt his testicles against me now, and when I did, they seemed tighter and harder than before.

Jared took in a deep breath and held it. Then suddenly: “Oh god babbbbyyy.” He thrust like a mad man, driven by the same urge that made me grind my clit up against his pelvis. He humped hard, then abruptly stopped at the end of a mighty, deep thrust. I felt myself being filled then, a geyser had erupted inside of my. My man was filling me with seed. My hands felt his back rising and falling in the most labored breathing I had ever seen from a man. Jared had gone from a humping, grunting beast to a thoroughly exhausted young human male. He raised his head up to look at me, and I saw the pleasure drain from his eyes like the sweat dropping from his face. His mind had gone to a special place that only and orgasming human can go. And it had now returned. He kissed me deeply; his hard thick cock still buried deep inside my body, still throbbing and pumping but with less power. “I love you baby,” he said.

I had not orgasmed during our first intercourse. Perhaps I was too focused on how different making love to an unadjusted man was from my earlier experiences with Mark. But I wasn’t worried about it. Over our honeymoon, Jared and I made love every night, and sometimes during the day. His need for my body and my need for his was insatiable. And by the third time we made love, I was orgasming strongly. Jared’s desire for his own pleasure in no way diminished his desire to provide me with pleasure. By the time our honeymoon was over, I think we had tried all the major positions at least once.

When we got back from out honeymoon, my mother presented me with an extra newlywed gift. I opened the box to find a pink penis extender. It was about 3 inches long and was featureless. “If Jared has any trouble staying inside of you, this little baby will be a life saver,” she said. I smiled and thanked her. But I knew that my man never had any trouble staying inside me.

* * *​

Jared and I were as careful as we could be regarding pregnancy. It wasn’t easy. Jared’s sexual appetite was ravenous. At first I thought his supercharged needs were a release after his teenaged years of forced celibacy. After all, I had seen first hand (many, many times) the amazing pleasure that sexual released seemed to give him. As a woman, I could only imagine that the pleasure that erupted from his loins was at least as satisfying as my own feminine orgasm. So I tried to understand. But I soon realized that his desires were not based on the release of a long suppressed urge, but were rather the natural state of his body and soul. His entire being had an insatiable need to pump semen into my body. His mind and body thought that the need was for the pleasure he so obviously received from sex, but as a woman, I knew that in reality my husband was simply succumbing to nature’s command to fill my body with fertile seed as often as possible. And, to my surprise, I didn’t mind. As a modern woman, I would have expected that having a husband make sexual demands would infuriate me. After all, it was my place to request sexual attention. But Jared’s desires forced me into the position of fulfilling his needs as often as I could. When I didn’t want to have sex, I would often suckle his flared helmet until he released. But often, I wanted his long virile tool inside of me as much as he wanted it to be inside me.

Despite all our precautions, I became pregnant after four months of marriage. We went to the same clinic where we had been examined before our marriage. After my general check up, the doctor asked Jared to join us in the exam room. He was an older gentleman, in his mid-fifties just like his wife, I suspected. When Jared came into the room, he had a scared look on his face. I realized that my pregnancy was as new and scary for him as it was for me. To my surprise, however, the doctor did not want to talk about the baby we were now expecting. Instead, he told Jared that he must now be extra careful regarding his special circumstances (which is the only term the doctor ever used for my husband’s lack of Adjustment.) The doctor had already forged records showing that we had visited him for fertility services a month before. This would explain how I was able to get pregnant in the first place. However, we should both be careful of accidents in the future. If we had too many children too fast, certain people might begin to suspect that we were not really planning our family. As we drove home, I realized that very few women in the world had experienced what I had experienced. My child was conceived in my own bedroom, during a random act of love between my husband and me. Suddenly, going to a fertility clinic to have a child seemed like a dirty act.

At first I thought that my pregnancy would lessen Jared’s desire for me. But I was wrong. We continued to make love during the early months, until the size of my stomach made positions difficult. After that, I made sure to suckle my husband’s hard prong every few nights, to alleviate the pressure for release in his genitals. By that time I had become an expert in pleasuring my man orally. The girth of his organ, which felt like a hard hot banana in my hand, often made my jaw hurt. But I took pride in pleasuring him. I often wondered what it was like for the other wives—to never feel the need to satisfy their husbands in any way. Their husbands didn’t demand anything of them. If their wives wanted sex, they provided it. But they didn’t get anything out of the experience themselves, other than the pride that comes from satisfying a partner. I now understood the pride that an adjusted man must feel when his wife squirms in orgasm because of his mouth on her clit. It was the same pride I felt when Jared squirmed and tensed under the pleasure of my lips on his mushroom knob. Perhaps, I started to think to myself, I am in some way an adjusted woman.

After several weeks of orally pleasing Jared, my jaw became so tired and sore that I told him I would have to slow down—take a break. He totally understood. He confided in me that he was always torn by his desire to have me physically and his sympathy for the condition of my pregnancy. But that he also didn’t want to stop me from remaining sexually active during the pregnancy if I wanted to. Now that I was expressing discomfort with remaining physical for the last months before delivery, he totally understood. “But what are you going to do about. . . you’re needs?” I asked him.

“No big deal. I’ll just jerk it.”

I laughed, “What?”

That was when he told me about how he masturbated. Perhaps I was totally naïve, but I had never really thought about how or whether an unadjusted guy pleasured himself. Sure, women masturbated all the time, especially before marriage. It was almost expected, although little discussed even among women. But guy’s masturbating? What would be the point, since they gained no real pleasure during sex? But an unadjusted male, he would need the same release, especially in his early life, just as women needed.

“You guys—unadjusted guys—masturbate too?” I said.

“Sure,” he said. “It’s no big deal. My father caught me when I was 13 or so. He gave me a big speech about being very careful to never get caught by anyone—since it would be obvious that I was unadjusted. But he made me feel good about it—I mean he made me feel like it was a normal thing to do. I used to jerk it practically every day until we were married.”

“How do you do it?” I asked. Surely a male wouldn’t masturbate like a woman.

He was so shy about the whole thing, like an embarrassed little boy. He told me he did it with his hand. Just like when I used my hand to get him off. I wanted him to show me. But he just blushed and shook his head. “Come on,” I said. “You said yourself that it was a normal thing for an unadjusted guy to do. I want to know how you do it. To experience it with you. It would make me feel like a failure as a wife for you to just go into the bathroom every night and service yourself.”

And finally he relented. I watched as my 20-year-old husband undressed and lay back on the bed. With one hand he manipulated his soft sausage; with the other he gently juggled his loose balls. Before long, his organ was as long and rigid as it got in my mouth or pussy. And he stroked it, his large hand and fingers wrapped around his pole. I watched him jerk on his organ, his chest rising with each breath that came faster than the one before. His muscled twitched and flexed; his legs and toes seemed to squirm around on the bed involuntarily. His excitement grew and so did the speed of his hand. His eyes were closed, and now his face began to tense and strain. It was so amazing, watching from the sidelines as my husband experienced the amazing pleasure of sexual stimulation. His strong hips began to rock back and forth on the sheets, and his large balls grew closer to his body in their tight sack. His organ seeming like a long hard mighty beast that his hand and body were struggling to control. And after only ten minutes or so, his body tensed and froze—his behind flexed and raised slightly off the bed, his back arched in a strain of pleasure. Jared made only a few deep grunts as he came, his fist gripping his throbbing organ tightly. I watched as six powerful squirts of warm white fluid erupted from the purple helmet of his manhood, arched in the air, and splattered with soft thuds on his straining chest. And then it was over, he relaxed his grip and rested on the bed, breathing heavily, eyes closed. I was amazed. It was so strange seeing his body reacting the way it reacted with me—but with me being remote and uninvolved. I thought about the powerful jets of seed that his body pumped from his throbbing organ—that was the same thing that happened inside of me every night we made love.

We showered together that night, and I washed the seed from his stomach and chest, using my fingernails to scratched the spunk from his thick crop of pubic hair. For the next weeks, as the date of my delivery drew nearer, Jared masturbated himself several times a week. But I didn’t let him do it alone. I would often lie next to him on the bed, my breasts pressing against him, my hands massaging the muscles of his chest and thighs as he pleasured himself. Often I would replace his hand with my own, when he was close enough that I could finish him without my wrist getting tired. And every once in a while, I would surprise him by finishing him with my mouth. But when he had to be content with his hand, he never complained. The whole experience brought me closer to him. I felt like I was completely intimate with him. He was my husband and I was his wife.

And in the early part of the year, our son was born. We named him Christopher and had him circumcised when he was a week old. Jared was so excited on the way home from the hospital. He had put the car seat in our car a month earlier. And the care he took in studying the safety instructions on the seat, baby bed, high chair, anything that little Christopher would around filled me with a loving pride in my husband. He wasn’t just going to be a great lover—but a great father.

But I was very sore from the delivery. It took my body quite some time to recover from the pregnancy. We took it slow. After all, in the last few months of the pregnancy, we had gotten accustomed to new sexual outlets. Jared masturbated whenever he felt like it; sometimes I helped him; sometimes I sucked him to orgasm. After a few months, he began to lick my pussy again. But it wasn’t until we vacationed with a group of old friends from high school that we made love completely.

The trip to the coast with our old high school friends was a turning point in our lives. Most of the people had been in our wedding. And now we were going to recapture our youth with a trip to a small cabin on the beach. There were four couples total: Jason and Susan, Mike and Heather, Drew and Kate, and Jared and me. The cabin was divided into four bedrooms with a large central room that served as den and kitchen. So each couple had their privacy. Jason and Susan had also just had a baby boy, so we had a lot to talk about—although the babies were both left in the care of their grandmothers back home.

On the first day of the trip, the men all went out to fish, and the women stayed at the house to settle in and catch up. Heather had brought several bottles of wine, and before long we girls began our old high school ritual of drinking wine and gossiping and giggling. And our conversation quickly turned to childbirth and raising kids.

“Jason is such a wimp. He wouldn’t even change little Joey’s diapers. I had to put my foot down. I told him no more video games or nights with the boys until he started pulling his weight,” Susan complained with a laugh. All of my female friends seemed to take delight in ordering their husbands about.

“Yeah,” I laughed. “Jared has been pretty good about handling the mechanical stuff—building the baby bed and all that. But he kinda drew the line at diapers and feedings. It got so bad I had to stop blowing…” I caught myself. “…stop letting him blow me off. I mean, I had to make sure knew who was boss.” I shook my head, as if the wine were getting to me. I hoped it would smooth out my verbal miscue.

The women just kept talking. But I know now that the wine was getting to me, although I didn’t really realize it at the time. I was so relaxed and happy to be among my old friends and relieved of the discomforts of pregnancy and baby care that I didn’t realize how the alcohol was affecting me.

The other woman laughed and compared notes on the trials and tribulations of marriage and motherhood. “And I tell you, after little Joey was born, I had to get Jason a new extender. This was one of those ‘full length’ extenders, that role of his stick, making the whole thing thicker. Jason’s stick felt so thin to me the first time he pleasured me after the baby that I didn’t even know for sure he was inside.”

“Did it work? I’ve never tried one of those full length extenders,” Heather said.

“It was ok,” Susan shrugged. “But I’ve been thinking of having Jason use a dildo on me instead anyway. It kind of irritates me when he mounts me and humps on top of me. I mean, his body feels so heavy. And it’s not like he’s overweight or anything. Gosh, when we are middle-aged, I can’t image us still doing it that way. But his stick is so short that it makes most other positions impossible.”

“Don’t you think it would hurt Jason’s feelings if you asked him to use a dildo rather than his stick? I mean, you’re pretty much admitting that he can’t please you,” I asked.

Susan just laughed. “Oh, it’s not like it is that much different from an extender. The full-length extender I’ve been making him use pretty much feels like a dildo anyway. The only difference is his body bearing down on me as he humps.” She drained her class of wine. “Sometimes I wonder why they don’t go ahead and clip the whole stick from men.”

“Really?” Kate said. She had only been marred a few months. And Kate had always been a little quiet about sexual matters, but apparently the wine was getting to her as well. “I’ve never had any trouble feeling Drew’s stick. Sometimes I don’t even ask him to use the extender you guys gave me at my shower. His always fills me up.”

I gulped down a mouthful of wine and refilled my glass. What Kate said had shocked me. From what I knew of how Jared’s unadjusted organ felt, I found it shocking that a clipped penis could fill a woman—at least in terms of length. “Really? How long is Drew’s?”

Kate blushed and laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, it’s about 6” long.”

Wow, I thought. Kate’s husband Drew had a penis that was as long as my husband’s—even though his organ was clipped and my husband was whole. How long would it have been if it hadn’t been clipped of when he was a boy? 7 inches? 8 inches? “Wow,” I said. “Have you ever wondered how long his would be if he hadn’t been adjusted?”

My comment hit the conversation with a loud THUD.

“Oh my god, Sarah,” Susan said. “I can’t believe you would even wonder such a thing. You’ve got a baby boy now. When I first saw little Joey’s unclipped little thing, I thought it was so disgusting. Why couldn’t they have gone ahead and clipped the cap off when he was circumcised? I’ll never understand it. I can’t image what a full grown, man-sized cap would look like. Probably a disgusting fat bulb or something.”

I laughed quietly to myself, and Susan heard. “What’s wrong with you, Sarah?”

I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. “I guess the wine is getting to me,” I said. I tried to laugh off the comment, but I knew that the others were a little uncomfortable.

Kate broke the awkwardness with a question. “I’ve never even seen an unadjusted stick. What does it look like?”

“Don’t let her talk make you curious about such disgusting things,” Susan said, gesturing in my direction. “You’ll have a son before too long, and you’ll see the nasty little tip for yourself. Trust me, you’ll look forward to his Adjustment Party just as much as I’m ready for little Joey’s.”

I don’t know why I didn’t stop then. Every day for the last 13 years I’ve replayed the conversation in my head and thought about how things would have been different if I had just shut my mouth. But I didn’t. Susan’s in your face attitude had always rubbed me the wrong way. And, I think, deep down, I took her comments as an assault on my husband’s manhood. I should have shut up. But I didn’t. “But what about what little Joey wants? Or my little Christopher? We might think their little tips are disgusting, but what about what they will think of them? We know how good it feels to have sex—at least with a husband who performs adequately,” I said, with a glare at Susan. “Why should our sons—or our husbands for that matter—be denied the pleasure that we take for granted? Just because society says that the male pleasure-desire is dangerous? That’s crazy.”

The others were flabbergasted. By that time my mind was swimming with wine and indignation. I thought Heather was going to hyperventilate. Susan’s face was read—with anger I think. To her, my comments weren’t just silly or crazy, they were deviant. “Sarah, I’ve never heard anything so disgusting. My god. And how dare you use my own son as an example. Joey would never want to keep such a disgusting bit of flesh! Why, he’d be deformed.”

Heather then spoke, perhaps to calm the tension. “Well, I’ve seen those new studies that show that men aren’t even physically capable of sexual pleasure. That their brains aren’t wired that way. The most leaving them unadjusted would do is illuminate the extender industry. But I don’t think that Mike would rather be normal like ever other guy than have a bit extra flesh that doesn’t even change the feelings he has during sex anyway.”

“Ha,” I said, spontaneously. I was drunk by then. I didn’t know what I was saying, how I sounded.

But Susan’s dagger eyes directed toward me at that point were a clear window into her attitude.

Kate, who was never very good at reading situations, just kept chatting as if there were no tension. “Well, Drew seems to get some pleasure from sex. He says that his stick feels so warm inside of me.”

“But it is not pleasure like we feel Kate. They can’t even feel that, adjusted or no,” Heather said.

“Oh, I’ve had enough of this,” Susan said. She stood up and drained her glass. “I’m going to take a shower. This conversation has made me feel dirty.”

The other women sat in silence for a moment. But one by one we retired to our rooms to get ready for our husbands to return. We all did our best to patch things up during the rest of the vacation. Susan and I never really apologized for our comments—in fact, the topic was never brought up again. But we put smiles on our faces, if for our men’s sake if not for our own.

But something had changed. And something about my attitudes had set Susan to thinking. I have only been able to piece together what must have happened later. Susan must have been very offended—and suspicious. No one ever talks the way I did that afternoon. Her radar was up. Did she talk to her husband Jason about the conversation? Did she ask him about Jared? Did he tell her that he had never seen him naked at they locker room or seen him use a urinal? Were their rumors about Jared floating around amongst his male friends from high school that I never knew about? I’ll never know. But my comments sent the ball rolling in people’s minds. And the Center for Male Decency was contacted. I don’t know where they got their evidence. Were their mistakes in Jared’s forged medical records concerning his adjustment or my pregnancy? Did they bug our house? Did they interview childhood friends and turn up some information? I don’t know, and I’ll never know. All I know is what happened on that fateful day only four months after our vacation.

One day there was a knock at the door. It was early morning, but I was already awake and dressed. I was going to work early that morning. And besides, little Christopher had a lot of trouble sleeping that night, so I awake earlier than usual. Jared was still in bed. When the doorbell rang, I was putting my earrings in. I went to the door without a second thought. It was probably the mailman or something. But it wasn’t. When I opened the door, four strong men and two women were standing on our porch. They were well dressed professional looking people. The men wore black suits, like the detectives on TV dramas. The two women were obviously of different ages. One was an older woman, in her mid forties. Her blond hair was done up in a tight bun at the top of her head. She wore small wire-rimmed glasses. In her right hand she carried a black briefcase. The other woman was younger, perhaps only a few years older than I was. Her dark hair was long about her shoulders. But both women were professionals. They wore navy blue pants suits. And they had badges.

“Miss, we are from the Center for Male Decency,” the older female officer said. “We have a warrant to physically search your husband.”

“Jared!” I cried, dropping my earring onto the carpet. But before I could turn toward the bedroom to warn my sleeping husband, one of the big men had his arms around me and a hand over my mouth. I could hear little Jared crying down the hall in his crib. The female officer sent the one of the men to take care of the baby, and the other officers entered the house. They made a beeline to the bedroom. They obviously knew the floor plan of our home. I was dragged along by the big man. And when we entered the bedroom, I saw Jared there, still asleep on the bed, the covers covering his body, his hair tangled, his face peaceful. The two men who remained with the group surrounded the bed, one on each side. The third man still held me, quiet and helpless, though I struggled with all my strength. The two women stood at the foot of the bed.

“Take him,” the chief woman said. And the two large men reached out for my husband.

I’m not sure if he had, in his sleeping mind, heard my earlier cry, or if some sense warned him of danger, but my husband opened his eyes the moment the two men reached for him. “Whaa,” he said, his voice rough with deep sleep. He made a single jerking motion of defense before the two men fell on him. Their strong hands gripped the bare skin of my husband’s arms. Jared struggled. “What the fuck,” he cried. The two men put their weight down on him. My husband was not a wimpy man, far from it. But he was a lean 19-year-old man. The two brutes that invaded our home that day were strong men, trained to subdue criminals. They held him fast to the bed. Jared’s eyes were bewildered. His struggles seemed to lessen. Then his eyes focused on me, held helpless on the other side of the room by another man. And my husband’s body jerked in a spasm of raged defiance. But it only took a few minutes for his body to tire under the immovable pressure of the two buttes.

“Look, look,” Jared panted, his voice strained. “Look, take all the money we have. My wallet is on the nightstand. Just let my wife go, please.”

“We are not interested in your money Jared,” the chief woman said, her voice cold and calm. “My I call you Jared?” She asked the question as if my husband was in a position to refuse. “I am Sargent Striver of the Center for Male Decency.” She flashed her blue and silver badge.

Jared’s eyes became saucers of fear. He struggled under the grip of the two men once again. The light in his eyes told me his mind was hot with fear and rage, but his body was exhausted. The men had no trouble keeping him on the bed.

The female officer, Sargent Striver, was not fazed by his defiance. “I can assure you Jared, your struggles will not prevent us from serving this warrant.” She produced a blue piece of paper, folded over many times, and unfolded it for our benefit. It was covered with small print and bore three large flowing signatures. “It mandates a physical exam of your genitals. And the appropriate correction, if it is necessary. Men, secure him to the bed.”

With military efficiency, the two men tied Jared’s hands to the posts at the head of our bed. He struggled of course, but it did no good. With his arms secure, the men pulled the sheet back from his body. Jared was sleeping in his gray boxer briefs. His naked chest rose and fell rapidly as his body fault for breath as he struggled. As the men attempted to secure his legs, he kicked with all the ferocity that was left in his exhausted body. One of the men grabbed Jared’s upper thighs and literally jumped on top of him, putting all of his weight on my husband’s upper legs. The other man grabbed Jared’s left leg and tied it swiftly and tightly to one of the foot posts. Jared continued to struggle, and I saw the big man on top of his legs shoot an elbow into the soft budge of my husband’s gray cotton clad crotch. The muscles of Jared’s chest and neck clenched as his face strained in the pain that must have radiated from his injured male orbs like a flash of lighting from his groin to his mind. He didn’t struggle as his second leg was secured to the bed. The big man rose off the bed and straightened the coat of his black suit. Jared was helpless.

The older woman nodded to the men—a job well done. She placed her briefcase on the chest at the foot of our bed and opened it. She produced a pair of small silver scissors. The thin blades gleamed in the morning sunlight that streamed in through the bedroom windows. She handed the scissors to the younger woman. “Cynthia, here begins your first lesson. The subject is subdued. The two agents remain in case he should somehow brake free of the restraints. The third agent will continue to restrain the wife. The area has been secured, and we are ready to proceed. First we must physically examine the subject. Remove his underwear please.”

The younger woman, Cynthia, took the scissors. He hand was not as steady as the older woman’s was—you could tell she was a little nervous. But she was still amazingly calm and professional. She walked in three long strides to the bedside.

“Please, don’t,” Jared said. His voice was weary, tired, exhausted.

Cynthia ignored him. She reached out and pinched a bit of the gray boxer briefs at the left leg. I saw her finger tips brush the fine hairs of Jared’s upper thigh. The strong muscle flinched under her touch. Then, she positioned the scissors and began to cut the thin tight fabric up to the waistband. Then, leaning further over the bed, she made another cut over his left leg.

“Now, remove the clothing,” the Sargent said.

Cynthia gripped the center of his waistband and pulled the fabric free, exposing the manhood of my husband to the cool air of the room. Jared’s manhood was soft and loose. The male orbs hung down heavy and loose between his outstretched legs. His soft dick hung like heavy sausage, the plum pink mushroom shaped head resting slightly to the right, the tip just touching his thigh. The sensitive cap of his male sausage just sat there, convicting him, for all in the room to see. The two men who stood at the foot of the bed grunted in disapproval as they saw my husband’s crotch exposed. One looked at his watch. The other fixed his cuff.

“As you can see Cynthia, the subject is obviously unadjusted.”

The younger woman nodded in agreement. No further explanation was needed, for the two women, Jared, or myself. Jared’s face was pale white. I stared at him, but he would not look toward me.

The Sargent reached into her open briefcase and began to work. “Since this is your first field case, Cynthia, I think it is best if you get some on the job training. I will walk you through the entire process. You will find that it is only slightly different from the standard youth adjustment.”

The Sargent produced from her briefcase a large plastic tube, perhaps nine inches in length. One end was open, but the other was capped with a thin black ring. I control pad was attached to the device at the closed end by a thick black wire. The device reminded me of those pump devices that some sex stores sale for women whose husband’s sticks will not stay hard. The Sargent handed the device to Cynthia, who sat it down on the bed. I saw the tube roll over once on the white sheets and come to rest against Jared’s leg. His body flinched at the touch of it. But his eyes didn’t move. He stared at the Sargent, his expression on of pleading disbelief.

Then the Sargent removed a small container. It looked like a small makeup bottle. She unscrewed the cap and handed it to Cynthia. “First, apply the cream. This cream has special properties. It establishes an erection regardless of the desires of the subject. In the case of a male of this age, it is probably unnecessary. However, since it is your first time, I think it best if we go by the book. It can be disturbing the first time you touch an unadjusted man’s organ. But regardless of our personal feelings, we have a job to do. Apply the cream Cynthia.”

The younger woman pulled the rubber glove over her right hand and scooped a bit of the pinkish white cream from the container. Then she reached out for Jared’s soft and lazy male tube. She almost seemed tentative to touch it, as if Jared’s penis was a snake that could somehow bite her. She dabbed a bit of the cream onto the helmet head of his sausage and began to smear it with her fingers. She applied more and more, and Jared’s sleeping organ responded. First his manhood just twitched and rolled to the right, off his thigh and coming to rest over his handing balls. It seemed to have a mind of its own, I thought. And I remember thinking back to the times when Jared had ravaged me on that very bed. It did have a mind of its own. And now it was betraying its owner. Cynthia seemed to become more comfortable with the feel of my husband’s unadjusted tool. I remember feeling so angry at the sight of another woman with her hand on my man’s cock. It was mine! I am the only one to give him pleasure. And then it hit me—Jared wasn’t supposed to feel pleasure, at least in the eyes of these invading agents. There was no jealousy or desire in them—they were repulsed by my man’s unaltered manhood.

For the first time, I noticed the gold wedding band on Cynthia’s finger. She was married, to a man who was no doubt adjusted. Jared’s body, his manhood, must have seemed so foreign to her—so animal-like. Untamed, uncivilized. As Cynthia kneaded and tugged on Jared’s spongy male sausage and felt it grow more firm with each pass of her hand, she was feeling the bulb of a man’s organ for the first time. She was feeling the curves and ridges of my husband’s sensitive male mushroom with a virgin hand. I closed my eyes and felt warm tears roll down my cheeks. The memory of my own tentative first encounter with my husbands throbbing and demanding sex rushed back into my mind. I felt my tears pool against the rough hand of the big male agent that covered my mouth.

When I opened my eyes, Jared’s male stalk was fully erect and straining. Cynthia gave his organ a few extra strokes, rubbing a last layer of white/pink cream into the thin, tight, but amazingly soft skin of his rigid pole. I looked at Jared’s face. His eyes still avoided me as he stared at Cynthia and her hand. His face betrayed no pleasure, but his chest rose and fell as his breathing increased. Jared’s face was pale, his brow dotted with sweat, as Cynthia’s hand rubbed the most the sensitized tip of his male spear.

And then Cynthia released his dick. For a moment, Jared’s organ stood up proud and tall, 6 inches into the sunlit morning, thick and ready. And then it flopped onto his washboard belly with a smack. I could see that the thick cap of his organ reached his belly button as it lay over his thick curly bush of pubes. The tears came again. We were both about to lose his manhood.

And then the Sargent passed Cynthia the device. Cynthia held the tub for a moment. I could now tell that the open end of the clear tube was ringed with what appeared to be a clear plastic cushion, perhaps some sort of sealer. The Sargent talked Cynthia through the process. “When I give the word, slide the device over his organ and position the clipper.” Cynthia seemed to take a moment to check the wire and the control pad. She was nothing if not professional. The Sargent now addressed Jared directly. “Jared, let me assure you that the device is relatively painless. It is based on a laser cutting technique that is so powerful that the process is over in less than a half a second. While you will feel nothing at first, expect a little soreness for the next few days. But after that, you should be back on your feet in no time.”

Jared just stared at her. He didn’t say a word. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face and into the slight stubble that had grown overnight.

“Ready, Sargent,” Cynthia said. And the Sargent nodded. Cynthia gripped the thick base of my husband’s male tool and held his organ up, rigid and proud in the air. With her other hand, she positioned the device. She rested the clear cushion that surrounded the opening against my husbands red, throbbing male bulb and pressed down. It was a tight fit, and I could see the cushion rubbing Jared’s wide mushroom as Cynthia twisted the cylinder. Jared’s face tensed, and his body arched. His legs and arms spasmed in an attempt to free himself, to save the pleasure of his life. And at that moment, the cylinder popped over his mushroom helmet, and the soft clear cushion slid slowly and tightly down the thick rigid pole that defined his sex. “Uuuunnnnnaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh,” Jared groaned, a cry I had heard so many times and instantly recognized. His back arched and his butt tensed against the soft bed sheets. And a heartbeat later, a thick rope of white male seed shot against the plastic tube with a THUMP. And a moment later, another, stronger glob of sperm splattered into the tube. And then another, and another. Jared’s face relaxed, and he opened his eyes. “Nnnuuuuhhhhhhh,” he exhaled as the tension left his body. He filled the clear, unmanning tube with the last load of seed he ever shot in pleasure. And his weary read yes glanced at me and locked onto my eyes. “Sarah,” he whispered, a bead of sweet rolling down his cheek—or was it a tear?

“Ignore his weakness, Cynthia,” the Sargent said, her voice as cold and stone. “Position the clipper.”

Cynthia now gripped the black cap on the closed end of the tube. The cylinder was now firmly pressed over my husband’s organ. The clear cushion was ringed tightly around the base of Jared’s stalk, pressing the curls of his pubes against his skin. Cynthia pulled the black cap down along the side of the tube. It ran on a small track along the side, and I could see the black ring of the mechanism move down the inside the tube along with her hand. Jared’s penis had never looked so long, so large, so hard as it did inside that tube. And the clear tube, although splattered with the thick white and clear fluid of his seed, allowed Cynthia to judge the placement of the black ring. She moved the device until the cruel black ring was positioned right at the scare where my husband was circumcised only days after his birth. The rigid flesh above that scare, the pink band of sensitive skin and the throbbing mushroom cap, had been with him since his birth. Cynthia double-checked the placement of the device, and then released her grip on the cylinder. It stood up straight, Jared’s organ clearly visible within it, up from between my husband’s straining legs.

His eyes were on me, blood shot, pleading. I thought of all the times his eyes had looked into mine as the powerful unstoppable rush of pleasure had surged from the mushroom head of his penis, buried deep inside my warm body, to the overwhelm the pleasure centers of his brain. Cynthia gripped the control pad of the device, and the thick black cord that attached to the cylinder swayed in the air. Jared’s eye darted back to the Sargent. “Ppllease! You don’t understand. Please, don’t hurt my dick. Please, you don’t understand. I need it. It feels so good.”

The Sargent’s stony face was unmoved. He looked to the young woman, not much older than me. She stared down at him, a look of pity mixed with disgust. “Please,” Jared said, his voice cracking under the strain. “Please, I need the feeling. Please don’t clip it off.”

“Now!” the Sargent ordered.

“Sarah!” Jared squeaked, his eyes focusing on me, pleading—pleading for the pleasure I and my body delivered to him and his.

Cynthia hit the switch.

FLIISSHHHHHHHssssszzzzzzzzzzz! The cylinder flashed a bright red spark that was replaced with a swirl of black smoke. The low sizzle of the device echoed in the room. Jared’s strong masculine body broke into a cold sweat. His eyes tentatively gazed on the smoke filled tube that encased his penis. “Huhhh, huhhhh, huhhhh,” the sound of his breath slowly overpowered the waning sizzle. The strong firm muscles of his chest and abs seemed to expand and deflate with his breath. He didn’t seem to be in any pain, but the look on his face revealed his masculine terror.

Cynthia dropped the control pad onto the bed and reached for the cylinder. She lifted if off of Jared’s pole slowly. The tight cushion popped past the end of his dick sooner than I expected, and Jared’s still erect member dropped back on his bed of curly sex hair, now damp with sweat and spunk. But it didn’t come close to reaching his navel. Smoke wafted from the open end of the cylinder, and Cynthia shook it slightly. And from the open end fell the severed mushroom head of Jared’s might penis. If dropped onto Jared’s hard abs with a SMACK of flesh on flesh. He stared at what was once the most sensitive flesh on his body—a soft, spongy, pink spearhead of manhood that a slight touch of my fingers would send his body a wave of pleasure. Now a severed and useless piece of flesh on his stomach—detached from the stalk of manhood it once capped. “Huhhhh, huuuhhh, huuhhhh, oh goddd,” he said, his voice a deep masculine whisper. “God, it’s gone; she cut it off. God, its gone; the head of my dick, oh god.” His head lay back on the bed, shaking slowly from side to side, as if in a delirious dream.

The Sargent reached once more into her briefcase and handed Cynthia a small jar and a squirt bottle. Cynthia picked up the severed head of Jared’s penis by its frenulum, using only her thumb and forefinger. She was so tentative, as if she were picking up someone else’s dirty underwear. But it was the head of my husband’s cock. She was pinching the sensitive flesh that I once sucked while my husband squirmed and moaned on our bed. She dropped the glans into the jar and squirted the solution in the bottle in until the jar was completely filled. Then she screwed on the cap and took what looked like a fancy stapler and sealed the lid.

Cynthia handed the jar to the Sargent, who in turn passed a small plastic stick, like the kind the doctor used to depress our tongue, but much smaller. The Sargent approached me, jar in had, as Cynthia inserted the stick into Jared’s beheaded erection.

“No charges will be filed in the matter,” the Sargent said, “against you or your husband. But you will have to answer questions at the station about your accomplices. If you fail to provide the required information, jail will be the result—I can assure you. Your husband will be a little sore for a few days, like I said. Cynthia is inserting a small stick that will keep the opening of Jared’s urethra open and clear. But can remove it after a few hours.” She nodded her head at the big man, and I felt the pressure of his grip lessen. Then, he released me. I remember thinking that I would fall over, just collapse on the floor, now that the force of his arms no long held me up. But I didn’t. I stood in front of the Sargent, this middle aged professional woman who had overseen the beheading of Jared’s cock. I stood eye to eye with her, my hand tremble slightly.

“The jar is of course yours,” she said, and I felt the cold of the glass jar against my palm and she placed it in my hand. “Good day.” She said, and turned to leave.

The others followed her, Cynthia now carrying the briefcase for her boss. The walked out single file and silently as I stood in my bedroom, the jar with my husband’s severed glans in my hand, sunlight streaming down on Jared’s squirming moaning body, still tied to our marriage bed. And then they were gone.

My body was cold, shaking. I put the jar on the nightstand, looking at it for only a moment. Jared’s mighty mushroom cap floated in the liquid. The wide pink flesh of his manhood filled nearly the entire jar. And behind it, still thick and erect, was the upper shaft of his stalk. I could see the tiny veins in the thin pink flesh that was stretched tight over the iron hard shaft. And at the end, the scar of his circumcision, now a darker brown from the laser cut. The sensitive flesh of my husband’s manhood, that had given him the greatest pleasure of his life, and of mine, floating in a jar.

I literally fell on the bed, my arms reaching for my husband. I pulled my legs onto the bed and lay beside him, rapping my arms around his trembling body. I couldn’t bear to look at his mutilated manhood, the black stick protruding obscenely from the beheaded end. His body shook in my arms. He was cold, sweaty, and smelled of sweat and sperm—just like after he jerked himself off when I was pregnant. But there was another smell too, the smell of burned flesh. I put my head on his chest, hearing his heart beating strong and steady. My ears were filled with the sound of his breath and his quiet delirious moans. This man who had ravaged me like a beast, given me so much pleasure. Tears filled my eyes and dripped onto the smooth skin of his chest.

* * *​

It was so long ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I’m an older woman now, a mom, and my days are filled. Jared’s days are filled too—with fatherhood, yard work, work at his mechanics job. But we no longer make love.

Jared was completely disinterested in sex at first. He was so depressed. In all, the device removed about 2.5 inches from his organ—1.5” of glans and another 1” of shaft. What remained was 3.5” of pasty white shaft. The end was blunt, and often felt rough to the touch. I used to wake up at night and hear him in the bathroom crying. I went to him once and put my arms around him.

“Baby, it’s ok,” I said. I felt his tears soak the shoulder of my shirt.

“No, no it’s not,” he sobbed. A twenty-year-old man, my husband, sobbing on the bathroom floor. “You don’t understand. I need it; I need the feeling. My balls hurt so much. There is this constant pressure in me, between my legs. God, I need it so bad.”

“Then let’s try again. Maybe, now that a little time has passed, it will be like before.” I wanted so much for him to understand that I still wanted him, still needed him, sexually. But he wouldn’t talk about it anymore. He closed up.

On our second anniversary, I made a special dinner for him. I wined him and dined him. And that night, I began to feel of him, up his leg, nibbling his ear, just like I did when we were first married. And he wanted me. I could feel the passion radiating from his mouth, from his balls, from his body. It had been so long for him, the pressure so great in his body for the release that he once achieved every night. And he took me.

But it wasn’t the same. He entered me, and I barely felt him at my entrance. His organ was still the same thickness, but I no longer felt “filled up” as I once had. As Jared lowered his weight onto my body and stuck is headless spear into my warm hole, he didn’t breathe, didn’t tense his face, didn’t moan in pleasure. His deep brown eyes just stared into mine, vacant. “Oh baby,” I moaned as I shifted my hips under him. But he knew it wasn’t the same for me. And I could tell that he felt nothing, not compared to the amazing pleasure my pussy had once given him.

He made a play of humping me, but his shortened organ popped out over and over again. His body wasn’t used to the short strokes an adjusted man must use. Each time he popped out, he closed his eyes in disappointment. By the time I faked my orgasm so he could stop, his eyes were watery with tears. I just held his body on top of mine, my hands spread wide on his muscled back, not a drop of sweat covering his body.

We rarely made love after that. No matter how hard we tried, Jared just couldn’t feel enough pleasure in his headless organ to produce any kind of climax. Some clear seminal fluid would often leak from the hole of his beheaded spear, but it was only a faint echo of the mighty blasts of seed that once squirted from his stinger. Our attempts at lovemaking were more frustrating than pleasurable, for both of us. Having become used to a grunting, needing, lovingly aggressive lover, I simply couldn’t connect sexually with the passive soulless, pleasureless humping of my adjusted husband. I suppose that, in my own way, I am now an “unadjusted wife.” I sometimes think of my friends, who have only experienced the mechanical, headless humping of their husbands that is only intended to produce their own pleasure. They seem to love it, with their mate focused only on doing everything right for them and when their pleasure is achieved, the act is over. But such lovemaking holds little charm for me. I once thought about asking Jared to use the extender for me, but how could I do that to him? How could I insult the memory of the powerful throbbing organ he once possessed by asking him to replace it with a rubber tip?

We were forced to give testimony about those who helped Jared remain unadjusted. But I only knew about the Doctor and his wife at the clinic. And by the time the authorities arrived to arrest them, they were long gone. The word must have spread far and wide, and no one else was found or adjusted based on the information we provided. The others in the group must have considered Jared and isolated casualty.

But, of course, he wasn’t the only casualty. And neither was I. That is perhaps the reason I am writing this journal. I know that I stated at the beginning that I intended for it to be found and read some time in the future, when we’re all gone and the world might be a different place. But there is someone else who will read it, perhaps after Jared and I pass away—Christopher.

Today is a very special day for our family. Today I opened the small safe in our closet that holds the jar containing the severed head of Jared’s dick. I don’t open the safe very often, but today was different. Today I have something else to add to the safe—another jar to sit beside Jared’s. As I placed it on the shelf next to Jared’s jar, I compared the two together for the first time. This new jar contained the severed glans of our son Christopher. Today he turned 12 years old, and it’s his Adjustment Day. The guests have already arrived for his party. There will be gifts of money for college and such. His adjustment marks the beginning of his journey into adulthood and manhood. The clipping of his penis is the beginning of the rest of his life. Soon he’ll start dating. I have no doubt that he and his friends are already whispering about girls, what their like, and how best to please them. And as I look at the two jars, I can’t help but think about the differences between what floats inside of them.

Jared’s jar was filled with a fat plump penis head. I still remembered each contour and curve of his sensitive flesh—I had charted each bump and ridge of his helmet and shaft with my tongue and fingers during the first year of our marriage. As I looked at sensitive flesh that floated in and filled the jar, I thought about all the times Jared had moaned and groaned in pleasure as it was touched and sucked. How many times had his body be racked with the ultimate pleasure his penis head had provided—whether through contact with his hand or my mouth or my pussy? The humping and thrusting of that throbbing pink helmet inside of my body had produced our son.

And beside it, now sat Christopher’s jar. The jar was the same size as Jared’s, but the bit of flesh floating within it was tiny in comparison. Christopher’s tip was a deep crimson, a small red nub of flesh, a miniature version of the plump mushroom in his father’s jar. And size wasn’t the only difference between the flesh floating on that shelf. Christopher’s small nub had never felt the throbbing rush of pleasure that Jared’s had so many times. And that is why it was floating in the jar that day. I couldn’t let my son experience the heartache of losing—forever—the pleasure that flesh would one day have given him. It was better for him to never know what he and his future wife were missing. That way, Christopher can grow up like his friends, find a woman and pleasure her, and they will both accept their lives together as the only way it can be. His wife will ever have to listen to my son sob in the bathroom, forever desiring the pleasure of orgasms he never should have experienced.

 

Men with Penises Now in the Minority
by Ed​

AD 2120

For the first time, in a trend that will reshape the destiny of the sexes, more men lack penises than have them.

Estimates show that just over half of America's men have been born without the once-defining characteristic of males. Genetic engineering is phasing them out in a trend applauded by women and men alike.

"This is a milestone in sexual engineering," said geneticist Laura Smith. "The average man is now incapable of penetrating a woman. Men are happier, more compliant, and able to let women control their sexuality."

In some places, a penis is an oddity. On nude beaches, they are no-shows. Few men dare to show them among today's assertive, powerful women and their fellow men.

Many young girls admit it's a disconcerting thing to see on a man.

"I'm so used to seeing men with nothing but a little sac between their legs," said one 16-year-old. "That's the way it should be. On one first date last year, I reached into my boyfriend's pants and felt that awful thing. It freaked me out. Now, I make sure to find out before we get too far with each other."

Sexual behavior has radically changed over the past decades. The dominant activity is for men to perform oral sex on their girlfriends and wives. Women buy strap-ons with the enthusiasm they once reserved for vibrators. Men have transformed themselves from penetrators to penetratees. Sexual engineering has allowed men's rectums to become stretchier, thus making them good candidates for anal sex, which they have overwhelmingly embraced.

Threesomes involving two men and a woman are so common that there are no X-rated movies made without them. Men are very comfortable loving other men. Most adult movies show men rubbing their penisless crotches together.

Rape is down 85% over the past century. Indeed, female rape of men is up, a trend likely to continue as men's posteriors have become so much more vulnerable.

This engineering has also created interesting twists. Many men and women are now born without body hair.

"That's one of the things I like best," says Sherry, a 24-year-old writer. "I don't have to be offended by stinky balls when I touch a man."

Many women are now engineered with large clitorises through which they can urinate. Men find this very attractive. Indeed, men's urinals are becoming less common in men's rooms and more common in women's rooms. Most men now sit to urinate.

The women's movement was largely behind the gradual loss of the penis. In their quest to create a better world, women had, as one put it, "no time to cater to those things. They're always so demanding. And they call us women demanding." Eventually, women came to see men's organs as useless and irrelevant. So mothers programmed their sons to be born without them. Now, a generation of men is finding relief in being penisless down there.

"I look at some guys I know, and they're just slaves to their penises," says Mark, a computer programmer. "I'm so glad I have no desire to stick anything of mine into a woman the way these guys do."

And the move is on to rid the world of penises that already exist. Penectomies are cheaper than ever. Penis-cutting is officially allowed as a penalty for rape, with the victim allowed to do the cutting. Women who cut them off out of spite are rarely prosecuted. Female singers routinely sing about wishing their men would cut theirs off, as in the song "Be a Man" by The Dominants:

I'm telling you it's not enough,
To show me that thing when you're in the buff.
Cut it off, cut if off
You'll know I'm happy
And I'll know you're really tough,
When you cut it off.
Be a man. Be a man.

Some women even refuse to marry a man unless he first cuts off his penis.

When penectomies are figured into the totals, about 65% of today's men lack their male appendages.

Estimates are that by 2240, the human penis will be extinct.

 

Variation on a Nude Beach
by actaeon76​

That was quite a new adventure for everyone of them. After months of discussions, studying of brochures and websites, giggles and doubts, here they were: two young beautiful couples from England (aged 25 to 29), sunbathing in the naked in a nudist resort in Croatia.

They were all good boys from good old families from the old province. They couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty every time they stepped out of their cottages in that orgy of naked flesh. Still, they soon enjoyed that new feeling of freedom, and also the opportunity of seeing so many beautiful young men and women like them going around in their birthday suit.

That afternoon they were idling on the beach as usual, enjoying the warm August sun and the diamond-like sea before them. The girls had gone to the small bar on the beach to buy some ice cream, while the guys rested peacefully on their backs on the tepid sand. When the girls returned, they sat aside their men, happily licking their fresh ice creams.

"You know what," began Sandy, "I noticed that on this beach too many of them, I mean men, even the old ones, sport a bit too often their, well... disgusting erections for all to see... I find that, you know..."

"Obscene?" Suggested Becky, "Yeah, I think so. That’s so rude of them, isn’t it. I felt kinda offended by that too."

"C’mon girls," objected Paul, Sandy’s boyfriend, -"you can’t blame them. Take it as a kind tribute to your beauty... "

Indeed, both girls were delicious specimens of the female body. Sandy was 26, her beautiful auburn hair falling in a long ponytail on her naked and shapely buttocks. She was slim, medium-tall, with proud breast and clean, silky skin nicely browned by the sun. Becky was a petit biond of 27, short haired with small firm breast like a teenager’s. Her accurately trimmed pubic hair was even blonder than her head and could scarcely hide her inviting pink labia. Her skin was lighter than Sandy’s, but equally soft and smooth.

"Uhm... maybe you are right," admitted Sandy. "Still, I find that they spoil the atmosphere of civil agreement of this place. With their animal urges... such things are to be done privately."

Leonard, Becky’s boyfriend, laughed softly. "What shall we do, though? That’s Mother Nature, girls!"

"Well," replied bitterly Becky, "Mother Nature and good behaviour don’t always get along well. Sometimes we need to... correct our nature."

"What ever could stop men from having erections?" Asked then Sandy, quite resigned.

"Well, see, I read somewhere," answered Becky, "don’t ask me where, it must be on the net, ‘bout these funny caps from Victorian age..."

"Which caps?" Inquired Sandy.

"They’re like condoms, you know, but rigid ones, made of iron..." Becky scooped a flat area in the sand with her hand, trying to illustrate the odd device to her friend."That works exactly like a condom, when you put it on a man’s penis, but inside... inside are fixed some sharp spikes..."

"Oh!" Said Sandy, "like the Virgin of Nurnberg. They used to put people in it."

"Yeah, but here, here they just put dicks. While the penis is flaccid, the spikes are harmless, since they leave room enough for the flesh. But when it grows erect, well, they stab the sausage causing pain and discomfort, so that sexual excitement fades quickly away. It was used to prevent young boys’ masturbation and..."

"Ouch!" Objected Paul, "that’s cruel, indeed!

"Yeah," grinned Becky at him, "but effective. I propose to distribute such smart devices to wives and girlfriends on the beach. If they know about their men’s attitude, well, they’ll just have to slid the cap on to prevent any unpleasant surprise."

Sandy giggled. "I bet some men would be surprised to find some extra pissholes on their dicks by the end of the day!

The guys looked quite puzzled. There was an unexpected glint of sadism in the girls’ words. Still, they just enjoyed the view of their naked skin on the sand, while happily chatting in the idleness of August.

After some minutes, Sandy broke the silence again. "Naaa, that wouldn’t work!"

"What?" Asked Becky.

"The spiked cap, you know... How many men would allow their wives and girlfriends to impose them such an ordeal? And don’t forget that most perverts are usually single men coming here in search of a good... “landscapes”, so to say."

"So, what’s your suggestion?"

"Well, we’d need someone to control them, like lifeguards. Let’s call them boner-guards. They would supervise the beach the day long, checking for break-rulers. Once they catch one, they’d warn him that his behaviour is against the rules and invite him to calm down. If he gets caught twice, then he must pay a fee, let’s say 30 US dollars, or 50..."

"And what if he gets caught again?"

"Well..." said Sandy with a dramatic pause, "then... ZAC!"

Becky bursted into laughters at her friend’s words, her pretty naked body rolling on the sand. "Yeah, they get castrated like pigs! THAT would be effective!"

Sandy went on, her voice calm and soft. "Didn’t you know that? Here they used to do that to POW during the last civil war, ten years ago or so..." she gently passed her hand on Paul’s exposed penis, that twitched at the contact, "they would surely know the proper techniques.

"Oh, c’mon Sandy, you are scaring us," said Leonard, trying to sound calm and witty.

"Shut up, Leo!" Said Becky with a mischievious grin, "After all, it’s Mother Nature’s fault, not Sandy’s, isn’t it? And tell me, Sandy, what would they do then with the, er... emasculated pervert?

"Feed him to fishes, of course!" She took completely hold of Paul’s cock and, looking at it with an ironic smile, stated, "after all, what’s the use of a man, without IT?

Paul felt he should show regret at such words. Still, his meat was rapidly growing in her naked girlfriend’s hand, so it was quite obvious what kind of feelings he was having. Becky simply added, "Yeah. Dead meat."

"You know what," continued Becky, now hungrily staring at Paul’s turgid shaft in the hand of Sandy. "However the punishment is carried out, that must be a public punishment... that would be the best warning for future rule-breakers."

"Mmm... that’s for sure sister... how would you do it?"

"Well," she too started caressing Leonard’s naked body, with her hand still covered by sand. "What about this: they tie a fishing wire at the base of his thing, then loop it high one of the showers, until he has to stand on his tiptoes. He’d stand there for all passers-by to see, until his feet grow tired, then falls down and... the wire does its job!"

"Wow! How long would the poor guy last in that position?"

"That would be fun to discover!"

Leonard was aghast. Was that his sweet little Becky? How could such medieval-like scenes take shape in her mind? How could she tell such cruelties so happily and shameless? He could now clearly see that her nipples were standing hard on her nice, small rounded tits, as a familiar flush had coloured her pretty face.

Since Sandy had already proved to be worse than her, he looked at Paul for comfort and help. But his friend was now totally under the spell of his girlfriend’s hands and stares.

"Hey guys, we’ve gone a bit too far, haven’t we," tried to object Leonard. Although he was quite intrigued himself by the trend of the conversation, he felt the duty, as the oldest one, to moderate the group.

"Boys," said Sandy to herself, grimacing in disgust. "You know, Becky, what’s the trouble with boys? Total lack of fantasy."

At that, Paul suddenly awakened from his ecstasy. "Total lack of fantasy, uh? You wanna find a nice way to punish the perverts’ boners around, well, what about a nice bbq on the beach?"

There was a brief pause of silence. Then Becky erupted her enthusiasm, clapping her hands like a little girl: "Wow! An old fashioned Wiener roast!

"Mmm... " said Sandy. "What a beautiful idea, darling... can you imagine them cueing before the grill, their hands tied, while the cook blows on the coals..."

"That’d be a great feast indeed! With a huge fire on the sand, music and alcohol...

"The best music would be their begging... "

"And what about the screaming?

"You mean they’d cook their things... while still attached to their bodies," inquired Paul, now hornier than ever.

"That’s the deal," answered Becky. "Cooked alive, that is. Do you guys think that stuff is edible?"

"Well," observed Sandy, winking at Paul. We always eat them raw and without basting, after all... "

That was too much for Leonard, too. He slipped a hand between Becky’s thighs, were he was greeted by her warm pussy lips, whose moistness had literally melted the sand and salt inside.

"Mmm, guys, what about continuing our nice discussion in our rooms," proposed Leonard, now stiff as a rock.

"Of course, but we’d better hurry up," laughed Becky, taking hold of his massive erection. "Before some nasty boner-guard catches this... capital offence between your legs!"

 

Private Correspondence from an Imperial Castration Maiden
by PR​

In the distant future, mankind has spread throughout the Galaxy under the protection of 'The Empire' (just like Star Wars). Mankind's numbers and conquered worlds are vast - so is the curse of mankind - war between men. The Empire is advanced technically, but also barbaric in many ways. Those who reject the Empire are 'Rebels' and enemy Prisoners of War are truly numerous and must be taught a lesson to instill fear into those thinking of rebellion. A tradition has grown up - to penectomise Prisoners of War - and who better to do it than Imperial Maidens - junior females of the 18 - 20 age class, eager to prove themselves worthy of Imperial Citizenship. Here we see an extract of some of Imperial Maiden Rianna's correspondence with a friend. (Rianna is 18, genetically enhanced, beautiful and fair-haired and with a stunningly athletic figure - as are her fellow Maidens....)

Time Stamp: 10 23 41 56 73

Hi Karinna! It's been two months since we spoke - I've been sooo busy at the Prisoner Processing Colony on Delta 99654. This is my selected 'Service to the Empire'. I'm doing
OK. In fact it's been fun! I was sooo innocent when I arrived. I didn't even know what a penectomy was when I arrived, I was too embarassed to ask. When I found out that it was cutting off the prisoners male members I could hardly believe my ears! I could only think of my little brother Lulio's tiny winky - what a shock I got when I saw some of these men stripped naked and hung like animals for the slaughter on the conveyor belt. Great big 'things' between their legs - and they couldn't hide anything because their legs were spread wide in their bonds. Apparently it's considered a greater deterrent just to cut their 'things' off and leave their 'eggs' alone - this causes a lifetime of frustration for them as they are worked in the mines and so on. Cruel, but hey - they are Rebels and we have our duty to perform.

Karinna, can you imagine my shock when I noted that some of them were actually sexually excited and sported what I now know to be 'erections'. I'd never seen a naked adult male, never mind a spectacle like that. How ironic that having seen my first I would be expected to cut it off with a penectomy knife! You cannot imagine how big they are, some more than others. It didn't help them to see us in our uniforms. We have to wear the most incredibly tight 'military light-grey' spandex hot pants that leave nothing to the imagination, and a similar halter-top that also shows off our cleavage. I sometimes think we might as well be naked! As the area is mirrored the prisoners have no trouble seeing every angle of us too.

The conveyor belt brings the bound and suspended prisoners along to our ten girl Squad and stops long enough for us to perform the operation before moving on again when the Penectomy Squad Leader presses the task completion button. We spent a week in training, using synthetic 'dummy males' and also learning how important our job is in the psychological war effort. Finally it was for real and I saw a prisoner before me. Our Squad Leader took us through it individually and carefully. We massage in the sterilising oil, which seems to contribute to quite a few of the erections I can tell you, then we tie the root of the organ off to reduce blood-loss (but we mainly leave that to the medic girls further down the conveyor belt) - this seems to make any erections that occur even bigger! Then we work the transparent 'penis bag' (to use the correct word) over the organ ready to collect it in, and finally start cutting at the root. I found myself shaking with nerves the first few times, I really did Karinna. The men are always staring at you with bulging eyes when you do it to them - they can't speak with their gags in of course. I remember it wasn't long before our Squad had it's first case of an erection (how they can get excited when they're going to be penectomised I'll never know). One of the girls squealed in excitement and we all quickly dealt with our males and then ran over to see. Sure enough, there it was - the first 'erection' I'd ever seen (and most of us if we were honest with each other). It looked sooo big, I'd never imagined anything like it - it seemed to throb like it was a separate living thing with a mind of it's own. If I might describe it (I don't wish to be crude but I'm sure you'd like to know) - it must have been 8 imperial inches long, thick and solid (and I mean rock solid - like a metallic bar!) and with a 'crown' on the end - purplish in colour, and it is apparently the sensitive part of the organ which pushes into the woman's interior when breeding occurs (though not in his case -hah!). It had apparently 'come up' very quickly when the girl (Brana - a very pretty red-head) had started to oil it with the steriliser. Our Squad leader (Seris - a lovely Citizen of about 25 years) had come over and assured Brana that she hadn't done anything wrong and that this was an occurrence we would all come across. Squad Leader Seris took over and continued to oil the organ which seemed to get even harder - and we noticed that the male kept staring into her cleavage which was presented to him by her posture - in fact his eyes seemed to flit over all of us! She then tied off the root of the organ which caused veins to swell along it's length - it looked like it would burst - and then had some trouble working the penis bag down over the length of it. It was only when she placed her penectomy knife at the root of his organ that his eyes left her cleavage and focussed on the knife. I can't tell you - it was SO BIG. She seemed to take her time, like she was playing a game with him - she kept the knife there for what seemed a long time - before she finally looked full into his eyes and then started to cut him - slowly! My, how he bucked in his straps - I guess he had more to lose than some others! Seris had a technique she showed us later of keeping her fingers digging into the base of the 'cock' (as she calls them) to keep it hard in the bag as she cuts it off. It's just for fun really.

As time went on, we all learn't how to encourage an erection with better and better massage techniques. It was more fun, and hey, guess what? A hard 'cock' is easier (and certainly more fun) to cut anyway. You've got more to hang on to as well.

I must tell you of another incident that shocked me to the core however. I had a really nice hunky prisoner and I was enjoying myself oiling him up to a truly massive erection, with all the girls gathered around - including Squad Leader Seris. I was letting him see my cleavage and getting close in to him as well. I was looking forward to 'bagging and cutting' him when suddenly his thing squirted me on the breasts with such force it stung! Of course I now know all about that sort of thing. I've never learn't so many names for something since then - man-cream, come-juice, jism and so on. I knew about sperm from biology, but nothing can prepare you for the real thing when it comes out like that. Anyway, Seris acted like lightning, grabbed the ejaculating organ and quickly cut it there and then even as he was still coming onto me. She had to tie off the stump which was oozing come-juice still, and we noticed that the severed erection was still jerking like it was trying to come. The cock hadn't even had time to register that it had been cut off I think! I thought I was in trouble for letting it happen, but Seris was OK about it. It's happened a few times since, I think girls are doing it on purpose to see what it's like. I even saw Brana letting a man's cock crown touch her right on her sex-lips (sorry, this job is making me crude), through her hot-pants of course, just prior to doing him.

Actually, Karinna, I must confess that there is more. In the last two weeks I've realised that Seris and some of the other Squad Leaders have been taking one or two males off the conveyor belts for a day of two in order to 'sport' with them at their leisure. We're finally all in on it, after last night. We made sport with a fine specimen of a man, hog-tied like an animal ready for slaughter, teasing the life out of him for about two hours in our changing room. You should have seen it all - we sat on his face! We teased his erection until it was reddened and hard as a metal rod. A girl called Girina with a fabulously large round bottom sat on his face with her bottom and almost suffocated him, but his rod stayed as hard as ever. Finally Seris tied off his cock so it looked fit to burst, (and so he couldn't shoot his come-juice of course) and invited anyone to RIDE HIM!!! You KNOW what I'm talking about Karinna! Brana and Girina were the only ones with the nerve to do it (I think they've done it before), then Seris rode him in front of us as well. Then she called a medic friend so that we could penectomise him. And guess what? The medic tied his legs apart on the floor ready for the procedure - RODE HIM HERSELF, then untied his cock and oiled him up and down until the most almighty fountain of come-juice you could possibly imagine shot out of that cock. I mean it was incredible, he could have made a hundred women pregnant with that fountain (!), and then without waiting for him to finish his come, she cut it off at the very root, which continued to ooze out come.

We had a really good time, Karinna, and I think it's going to happen again soon!!

 

Assembly Line
by Zoroaster​

"Nah, man, it's not so bad at all," Tom told Erik. He took a swig of his beer, and continued. "It's a little freaky, yeah, but it doesn't hurt much at all. I work in the center; we do guys all the time."

Tom had gone out for a drink, and sat down next to Erik up at the bar. He was a large guy, having been into weightlifting since he was young. He'd gone in for processing soon after the center first opened, and so was completely hairless.

Erik had just moved to the city, having recently finished college and coming here to start his new job. The first processing center in the college town he'd been in had only opened up a month before he'd left, so he didn't really know much about it. None of his buddies had done it by the time he'd moved, but he'd heard since then that two or three had. He didn't really get the appeal.

He'd been up at the bar for an hour before Tom came in, and when he noticed that Tom's eyebrows were gone he figured he'd already been in for it. He was curious, and Tom was pretty hot, so he'd struck up a conversation.

"So like, you do the cut or what?" Erik asked, curious.

"No, no, it's all done by this machine thing. We do it sort of assembly line style; there's a lot of stuff that goes into the process," Tom told him, taking another swig of beer.

"What all do they do?" Erik had already explained how he didn't know much about it, and Tom was only too happy to talk about it. He tried to talk everybody into it.

The bartender noticed the two of them and smiled to himself. There he goes with another one, he thought, rubbing his own hairless head. Tom had been coming in here for awhile, and between him and some of the other regulars, they convinced him to go in for it. He'd never regretted it.

"Well, there's the hair thing," Tom smiled, rubbing his head.

"Do they take it all off?" Erik asked.

Tom lifted his shirt up, exposing his chiseled torso. "I used to be really furry, but now, nope...smooth as a baby's ass." Erik almost involuntarily reached out to touch Tom's abs, smooth and firm, each muscle standing out on its own. He popped a boner just feeling him up. "Anyway, it's mostly that, and then the chop." He pulled out the waistband on his pants, giving Erik a view of his smooth groin. "And then they move your pisshole down a little lower. Helps when you're trying to aim for the toilet."

Having his genitals off was something Erik had thought about. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to do it, but that he really liked his dick. He had used to masturbate a lot, but lately had lost interest in it. Sex hadn't been that great, either - he got around and all, but when it came down to it, he'd almost just as soon watch a really good movie. Even so, he was just...used to it being there.

Tom could see Erik's eyes locked on his groin. "It's really great, honestly," he said. "Ever since I had all that shit out, it just feels awesome. All nice and smooth. I was a little unsure about it at first, you know? I really liked having my cock - it was nice and thick, a good dick, but..." he drank another swig, "it was just kinda time for it to go."

"Yeah, I can see that," Erik replied.

"You think maybe it's time for you?" Tom asked, motioning to the bartender for another round.

"I dunno," Erik said. "I mean, I've thought about it, but I'm just not sure..."

"Well, here, look, I'm working tomorrow. Why don't you come down and see how it all goes then?" Tom suggested. "You can see the whole deal, get a little tour."

The next day, Erik drove over to the center around 2, like Tom had told him. It was a pretty unassuming looking office building, with a sign out front identifying it just as, "Male Processing Center #37."

Erik parked in the lot and walked up to the front door, passing a group of college guys on their way out. They were giggling and rubbing their groins through their jeans, sharing the pleasure of their newly empty crotches. Their freshly denuded heads were still paler than the skin on their faces. "This is so awesome, dude," one said to another as Erik passed them. "When I get home I'm just gonna stare at myself naked for awhile." They all laughed in agreement and headed past Erik to the parking lot.

He walked in the front door. The receptionist was on the phone, but just pointed him through a door with the sign "Entrance" on it. Erik walked through that, and found himself in a big locker room. There was a guy sitting at the desk, with a bunch of keyrings on numbered posts and a clipboard. "Hi," he greeted Erik. "Name?"

"Uh...Erik Anderson," Erik told the man. "I'm here to see, uh..." he struggled for a moment to remember Tom's last name, but his train of thought was interrupted by a loud group of about fifteen youngish guys coming through the door behind him.

"Yeah, man, I can't believe we're really doing this," one shouted, and they all shouted and high-fived each other, jumping around excitedly.

The guy behind the desk shouted, "Hey, fellas, quiet down!" He handed Erik a set of keys and said, "Here ya go, locker fourteen."

"Oh, I, uh," Erik protested for a moment.

"Yeah?" the guy asked, eyeing the group behind him.

Ah, fuck it, Erik thought to himself. "Nothing, thanks," he told the guy, and went to find locker fourteen. Might as well just do this, he thought himself. No point in putting it off, right, and it's supposed to be so great. Fuck it, yeah, I'll do it. There were already two or three others in various states of undress, three taking their clothes off, and one guy, just done, putting his clothes back on. He already had his pants on, but Erik noticed his pinkish skin, newly bare...

He found his locker and stripped down, shoving his gear and and walking, nude, back up to the desk to hand the guy the key for safekeeping. "Just head through that door there," he told him, still taking the names of some of the guys in the big group. Some of them had already stripped down, and were jumping around, their cocks and balls flopping about.

Erik left them behind and headed through the door the guy had pointed to. An attendant in this room was helping the men position themselves on a conveyor belt that ran through the room. One helped Erik up onto it. There were big slipper-like restraints welded to the belt, and Erik spread his legs and stood in them while an attendant locked his feet in. His balls dangled down freely between his legs, and his cock was growing erect.

Another attendant had Erik reach up above himself to an upper converyor belt with matching handhold-restraints. Erik gripped a stirrup coming down from above, and the attendant locked his hands into place as well, then left him to sail down the conveyor belt behind the guys who had been ahead of him in the locker room. The belt moved slowly, maybe a foot a second. As he passed through a dark partition, the first of the group of boys behind him was being strapped in back down the line.

He heard a prerecorded voice speak to him in the darkness. "Breathe deeply and hold," it said. Erik did, and then closed his eyes as well as he was sprayed down with some sticky substance. Mechanical sprayers moved around his body, thickly coating him in the honey-like substance. It tasted bitter, like shampoo, and he spat it out when it got into his mouth. The spraying stopped, and he continued moving ahead on the converyor belt.

Erik's skin began to feel warm, then burn a little bit under the caustic goo, but before it got really painful, warm sprays of water began washing it off his skin. The goo ran off slowly, taking all of his hair and top layer of skin with it. Next, blasts of hot hair dried him off, leaving Erik feeling strange and sexual, never having been so smooth since he first hit puberty. His heart was racing and his cock stood out stiff and firm.

He moved through another dark partition and into an area where technicians watched him behind windows, operating controls and checking various readouts. Erik's eyes met Tom's on the other side of the window, and Tom's eyebrows arched, then came down as he smiled warmly. Erik winked at him and smiled as well, then winced as the clamp got ahold of him.

A metal clamp swung up from the middle of the conveyor and attached itself to Erik's groin. His genitals were pulled away from his body, and the clamp ran between his ass cheeks all the way to his anus. He felt pinpricks through the area, and quickly felt his groin go numb.

As that happened, another set came down from the sides of his head and held it steadily in place. He heard a buzzing sound, and started to feel oddly euphoric. This was great... Unbeknownst to him, microwave emitters were altering his brain structure a bit, knocking out certain areas of his brain and stimulating others.

He let out an 'urp!' as a smooth plastic thing slid up into his rectum, then winced a little as it started to expand. While he couldn't see it, the machine was widening his rectum a little bit and simultaneously injecting his prostate gland with an enzyme to make it more sensitive.

His brain felt tingly, but in his heightened state everything that was happening to him felt absolutely wonderful. Erik could feel a catheter slide down his cock to his bladder, and relaxed a little as it drained. What happened next was so sudden he didn't even realize it until it was over. A needle jabbed him inbetween the legs, right behind his scrotum - it wasn't painful, due to the anesthetic, but he could feel his skin being peirced and the object go in. It grabbed his urethra and held it as monofilament blades shot into his groin and in but a moment swished around, cleanly severing Erik's genitals completely.

The removed organs were pushed into a holding chamber, and tiny robotic arms cauterized and sutured Erik's blood vessels, muscles, nerves, and skin back together, using tiny microsutures so as to cause almost no extra tissue damage. The spike in his taint pulled his urethra down and attached it to his new pisshole, suturing it in the same way.

The clamp swung back down from between his legs, and Erik could see that it had been done. There was a Y-shaped stitch pattern in his crotch with just a tiny drop of blood. Another claw rose up from the floor and tiny brushes washed his groin clean, then sprayed the sutures with liquid skin. Other than the slight shininess of the skin covering, it looked for all the world like Erik had never had anything there.

The belt led him through a final 'wash cycle' - sprayed warm water and blow drying again. It finally let off, and Erik was pleased to see Tom waiting for him.

Tom strode over and immediately started unbuckling Erik from the conveyor. "Hey, man, I thought you were just coming for the tour!"

Erik was smiling widely, feeling very happy with himself. "Hehe," he laughed. "No better way than from the inside."

 

A Woman's Right
by First Timer​

It's a Woman's right to deball or alter a males manhood in any way she sees fit!!!!! Customizing him for her purpose and pleasure, making his cock bigger with studs or rings surgically implanted, or making his balls larger for aesthetics, or just having him castrated, if she was in the mood.

My Mistress Linda's mood was cheerful and happy as we entered her doctor friend's office. Dr. Janice O'Brien was a tall, lean, muscular woman of 43. They were old friends going back to their college years, and I knew her well. Linda had had me altered several times by her: my cock was now huge with studded ball bearings running its 10 in. length, and a ring pierced through its plum sized head. I was there for a post-operative exam...

"Linda!!!!!!!!" Dr. Janet greeted her with a hug and a kiss. "I see you brought your man for his check up....."

Linda laughed!!! "Yeah, the poor thing thinks he's a bull now with his new cock!!!"

"Well well, now does he?!? Well let's take a look at him. Order him to get naked and I'll check this big stud out for you, girlfriend!!!!"

Linda looked at me. I immediately dropped by pants and stepped out of them, my cock reared up to its full 10 inches for Doctor Janet's inspection. "Wow, Linda, you really have him trained, don't you!"

Laughing Linda said, "if he can't do that, then you can take his balls, Janet!!!!!"

"You know, I've been wanting to talk to you about his balls. There's a new product out now, fake testicles,,,, Come here and I'll show you. They come in all different sizes. . . what we do is remove his real testicles and implant these big guys in their place. The great thing is that one of them holds time-released hormones and its adjustable by squeezing it. So aesthetically he's a bull of a man, but completely under your control."

"How much," Linda asked!

"Well, he'd be the first one. . .So I guess for free, Linda. As long as I could use him for a demonstration subject for the other girls who would like it done to their males!"

"'GOD THE PRICE IS RIGHT! Do it to him!!!! I want the biggest ones you've got, Janet!!" Linda smacked my butt hard, saying, "Dr. Janet's going to give you some balls to be proud of, big guy. Wouldn't you like that now?"

She reached under my ass from behind and grabbed my balls, squeezing them with delight, giggling "I'm gone to ruin them for fun, you'll be getting new ones, big guy! So these are worthless now, aren't they!?!"

Dr. Janet removed her lab coat revealing a body of a goddess! Her long legs encased in black nylons to the top of her thighs. She reached out and grabbed my cock, running her hand over the studded shaft admiring her handy work! Linda let go of my balls and Dr. Janet pulled me by my cock into her operating room. "Tell him to get on the table and put his heels in the stirrups," she ordered Linda, businesslike. Then she left the room...

Coming back pushing a cart with a huge set of prosthetic testicles on it the size of softballs!!! They quivered like large balls of Jello!!!! Wheeling the cart between my open legs, Linda lifted one of the large orbs, "God, Janet, these things are huge!"

"They're the biggest ones they make, Linda!!! Three and a half pounds a piece - you're going to have the man with seven pounds of dead weight between his legs, girl!"

"They'll never fit in his sack, Janet!"

"Don't worry, girl, he'll adjust to them. You'd be surprised how far his sack will stretch before bursting."

"Ok, you're the doctor!"

"If you want, Linda, you can crush his balls now! Before I cut them off"

"No," Linda said. "But save them - I want to make earrings out of them!"

The last thing I remember is Dr.Janet picking up a syringe, her small breasts standing up, her nipples prominent!!!!