[G]Ayzintion City - A New Technique

Submission Date: 2004-05-18 By: Nathan

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Another Ayzintion City story. This is adult fiction, and nothing in it ever happened. It is not to be posted on sites frequented my minors. This story involves the castration of males of varioius ages, and deals with slavery issues and domination of others by men. It is part of a series of stories, which can be read in any order. It is also adult entertainment, and nothing more. All comments are appreciated.


As a reminder, Ayzintion City is a place like no other place on earth. It is city where the slave traders come, and the slave buyers come, and the entire city with its ancient buildings and associated businesses are all linked to the trade. It is a place where the Eastern Province and the Southern Province converge, and sometimes the slave auctions will trade as many as a thousand boys in a single week. Ayzintion City has existed since the first maps were drawn, and while it is well known among those that deal in human flesh it is almost unheard of outside of that elite circle. The city is hidden in the mountains, and it is surrounded by water and deep ravines. Unless you know the way into the city, you would never be able to find it. The majority of all slave trading that is done has its roots to Ayzintion, and if you are interested in buying or selling or you need to find a boy to own it is there that you will be drawn.

I don't usually go to the slave pens, as the auctions don't hold my interest and even the nuttings are not something I normally enjoy watching. I castrate enough pigs on my farm that I do not need to watch it being done to men, and so except for the few times I've had to go to purchase my own slaves I have ignored the place. It's not of course that it bothers me, as it doesn’t, and I know that snipping a man's balls can enhance the purchase, and turn a problematic individual into a docile and willing worker.

I have a half-dozen slaves of my own, to work the hog pens and to keep things running, and on my farm all of my slaves have been nutted. I personally can't even see why any owner wouldn't insist on the procedure, as long as he could afford to have it done. The slaves are all better for it, and while individually they don't like losing their balls once it's been done they do get used to it, and the drive and anger and competitive nature that defines most men simply disappears for them and in very short order. More importantly, they worry about tending the pigs instead of searching for a woman's hole to fuck, and that alone makes takings their balls something worth doing. Of course, when the knife is doing the taking and they are straining against their bonds and crying out from the pain, it is not something to enjoy and one can not help but empathize with them. They all struggle, and fight the knife, but in the end I think it keeps them in line and so in that sense they will come to appreciate it.

All that I've said is true, but still I've come to the city to watch the slaves being cut. Why you ask? You see, I'm but a simple pig farmer, and since I have to castrate hundreds of pigs, and do it regularly, I'm looking for a better way and one that will lower my losses. I wouldn't nut the animals at all if I could keep from it, but the hormones from their balls otherwise over time taint the meat, and there is no market for meat with strong odors and foul tastes. So, except for the few I need to breed, I nut them all. But taking their balls is risky, and I lose more than a few that I would otherwise have been able to market. So, if I can learn of a new method, or pick up some techniques from the slave pens and apply them to the farm, then I may well be better served for it.

There is a new cutter in the city, and it is him that I have come to see. He's a young one, and he's already gaining a reputation for a method that has not been seen in the city before yet apparently is proving its worth. He was not trained in Ayzintion, but instead learned his method from across the sea. When I first heard that there was a young cutter who didn't tie the scrotums he opened I did not believe it, but I've heard the story from enough people that I know it to be true. So, of course I had to come to see it for myself.

It is hard to imagine any such method working, as one would think the blood loss would be overwhelming and his losses would be high. But I've heard the opposite is true, and so I know it is worth investigating. The rumor is that he also has the lowest infection rate in the city and if true he can teach me something. Now of course tying the balls of a strapped down man is one thing, and time is of no consequence really in that regard. When you are stealing the stones of a slave it doesn’t really matter if it takes you ten minutes, or one, as there never are so many that you cannot take your time. But when you are doing pigs, one after the other, taking the time to tie each sac before you open the purse that holds their balls is very time consuming, and I for one would be thrilled to find another method. Besides, as the remains of the empty sac turn black and rot off, sometimes the line of infection spreads into the animal and it has all been for nothing. Consequently, if I can find a way to nut them without the tie then I am interested in trying it.

So, I arrived early, and took a good seat near the castration rail. The new young cutter subscribes to the rail system to restrain his men, and while I do not care really for it myself it does provides me a good view and makes the balls of the man being nutted easily reachable. On that point it cannot be argued. Of course, with pigs there is no rail, although the idea is the same and holding down the male animal to be nutted is always necessary. No man, or animal, will spread his legs willingly and let you slice into his nuts. So, in that sense the slaves are not unlike the pigs that I have to restrain, although on the farm I have one of the eunuch slaves hold down the animal while I do the snipping. Of course, for this cutter, as for all cutters in the city, the men being nutted are always tied down, well, usually with leather straps securing their limbs and spreading their legs to make everything easily accessible for the knife.

When I first glimpse the cutter I am surprised. I don't know what I expected him to look like, but he is not as I imagined. The new cutter is young, with bright red hair, and as I stare at him I cannot help to think of him as a boy. He looks fifteen; maybe, although to have his license he probably is older. It's hard to tell these days, but he's only just got the wisp of a mustache and his body has yet to firm itself up the way it does on an older adolescent. He doesn’t look very strong either, and as I stare at him it's hard to visualize the boy taking anyone's balls and at first glance you might not even think of him as capable of doing so.

Of course, once the slaves are tied it really doesn’t matter the strength of the cutter, and so once the slaves are secured I know the boy will have no trouble. Anyone can take a tied man's balls if he knows the method. You would think the slaves would just accept that fact, and relax as it is done to them, but they don't, and will instead pull and struggle against their restraints until their backs are covered in sweat. In the end they get nutted just the same, so their efforts are wasted and you would think they would know it. They all struggle though, no matter if they are the first man being cut or the last. And boy they struggle hard! I suppose it is because they are men, and unlike a pig who is losing his balls, a man being castrated knows what is happening and so he will fight it until it is done and there is nothing left to fight for. Of course, once their balls have been stolen then they will collapse, like the air spills from the sail, and then just like castrated pigs they will lie quietly and whimper and hold their legs still and slightly apart, feeling the pain and contemplating what has been done to them.

The red headed cutter is sharpening his knife as I sit down, and he has a big grin and bright, green eyes. His face is covered with freckles, and he's cute as hell. I immediately like him, and as I look at him working his knife it is hard to imagine where he learned his skill. His hair is long, and he flips his neck in such as way to toss his bangs up and out of his way. His hair covers the top of his ears, but it's neat and combed and shiny in the morning light. His cheeks are lightly fuzzed, and it does not appear that he is shaving yet. He looks so young, and innocent even, and yet as the sparks fly from the grinding wheel it is immediately apparent he is confident and capable. He looks over and says something to one of his helpers, and as he does his voice cracks momentarily, and I think it embarrasses him. As I stare at him I can see he is well into puberty, but still not a full man yet. Still, he wields the knife and holds a cutter's license, so he commands respect and for the slaves that's all that matters.

He seems confident, and his bright eyes shine as he works the steel and sharpens it against the spinning stone. From the number of slaves that are waiting, their arms cuffed in front of them and each secured to a pole, I have to think that their must be something to the rumors I have heard. The boy cutter has many slaves to unman, and it is obvious that he already has a good reputation and has no shortage of work. My interest at this point is keen, and in contrast to the slaves waiting for the knife, I am anxious to watch him begin his work.

He has a number of young helpers, who he has hired to make the preparations and they are busy off to the side working on the men coming from the auction pens. As soon as the purchase is made all of the slaves destined for this cutter are put in metal cuffs, with short pieces of chain attached to them. These chains clink around their ankles when they walk, each about a foot in length. Even their wrists are linked together with iron cuffs, from which a short piece of chain is hanging. That seems strange to me, as most slaves are restrained using rope in other areas of the city. The iron cuffs seem pretty foolproof though, and it's obvious that even the strongest slave would have no chance to escape.

As I watch I see several slaves are being strapped down on their backs over a long wooden bench that has been built very low to the ground. Their feet are individually secured to the stone floor. Once they are laid down their cuffed wrists are secured over their heads and hooked to an iron ring in the floor, so that they are trussed facing upwards with their legs spread wide. The bench is curved, so it tends to jut their genitals upward, toward the sky, pushing them up high so they are exposed and eager. I think it would be a good position to nut them in, but that is not the intention and the youths working on them are not so inclined.

Still, the position cannot be comfortable, but they are not kept in it long so I guess it doesn’t matter. Instead, young boys, probably twelve or thirteen, are busy working on their bodies, washing them with strong lye soap and stiff brushes, scrubbing them thoroughly until the skin turns pink. I am not close to them, but I can see the work as its being done. It's immediately apparent that the slaves are all being washed, one after the other, and the leather from the soap is foamed up from the intense scrubbing. The slaves are watching it all, and from their expressions the stiff bristles are obviously not appreciated. One slave grimaces as a boy brushes his armpits, scrubbing the thin skin there vigorously. Another boy is soaping up a slaves cock, working the lye soap over his pole and into his balls.

The slaves stare, and watch their bathers, chained out and unable to do anything else. As they stare and watch there eventually comes a time when one of the boys scrapes a razor over their genitals, removing the nest of pubic hair from each of them that have one, and then scraping the blade down their legs and through their armpits until they too are as smooth as a baby's bottom. The big men waiting to be nutted don't like it, but they can't do anything about it, and as they are being shaved more than a few of them grow stiff and hard. Some of the younger slaves have no hair, but they are shaved anyway just to make sure, and even their fuzz is taken from them. All of the slaves near me have already been shaved, their prickles jutting out from bald mounds, anxious even. The process makes them all look like boys, even the older ones with fat bellies and big, thick cocks. The slaves smell of strong lye soap, and it is obvious that they have been well washed and scrubbed down to make them clean.

The young cutter finishes with his knife and I see him pause and wash his hands. Then he walks down the line of slaves who have already been washed, holding his knife, and as he passes each of them they look away. They know he's come to make his pick, to decide which of them he will unman first. Finally, he stops by a massive man, with a soldiers build, who is staring back at the boy and daring to look him in the eye. He's a strong powerful man, and it is obvious he is used to being in a different position, in charge perhaps, and giving the orders. The young cutter smiles, and then nods, and as he does two big eunuchs unhook the big man and drag him to the rail. He tries to get away then, as soon as the chain is unlinked from the pole he was tied to, but it’s a useless gesture and the two big eunuchs working the area wrestle with him and drag him onward to his fate.

He doesn’t like it, and as he realizes he can't get free he starts to beg, knowing at that point that he can't stop what has started. In less than twenty seconds he's over the castration rail, the link of chain hooked to his wrist cuffs secured to a hook in the floor in front of him. His body is over the rail, and his two legs are then pulled apart, wide, stretched out and open until the links of chain on his ankles can be linked to two other hooks waiting for them. At that point he's totally exposed and the crack of his ass is only feet from where I am sitting, his massive sac of nuts hanging down beneath his legs and stuffed full of the essence of his manhood. I notice his hole is ringed with hair, and as I look at it he struggles and tries to pull his legs together. As he does, his pink bud winks at me.

He's got a big set of balls, of that there is little doubt, and as a farmer of pigs I think taking his stones will be a major undertaking. The young cutter doesn’t seem worried though, and he walks around in front of him and takes the man's chin in his hand, pulling his face upwards so he can get a good look at him. The two stare eye to eye then, the big man staring at the young teen who will be nutting him, and for a second time seems to stand still. The man says "Don't.....don't do this. You're just a boy and you have no right." The cutter frowns with that, and then he turns and nods to two younger boys near him, and says simply "Milk this one." Then, he drops his hand from the slave's chin, and walks back to the line to select another. As he does so the two boys he had spoken to walk up to the trussed up slave, and without any comment or question they go to work.

One lad is holding a thick wooden dowel rod, about a foot and a half in length, with a large, carved, bulbous end that is fat and round. One end is wrapped with leather, to form a handle, and the other end of the pole, with the big rounded end, is well greased. He pushes the big greased end up against the man's anus. I am so close I can see everything. The man doesn’t like it, and he whips his head around to try and see what is being done to him. Then he says "STOP....do not DARE to put that into me!" The boy ignores him, and then with a twist the lad pushes on the rod. The man grunts, and strains with all of his muscles, pinching his hole closed to keep out the intruder. The boy pushes harder, and the big rod pops through the slave's ring of muscle.

As it happens the big man gasps, and at that moment the boy just shoves the rod all the way in until the end pushes up against the slave's prostate. The slave arches his back with the intrusion, and his eyes go wide. He gasps again, louder, making more of a grunting noise and then he winces. I don't think he can believe it. The muscles of his hole clamp around the rod, gripping it, and the boy holding the end of it grins as he sees the slaves muscles tighten. The slave goes berserk then, fighting it, trying to break his bonds and stop the rape of his ass. The boy holding the rod laughs, and then nods to his helper, who by now has grasped the big man's cock, and as the one youth starts to pump the man's dick skin the other boy begins to move the wooden rod in his ass, pushing it in and out and rotating it up and down and side to side all at the same time.

As this is going on the cutter is oblivious to it, and is instead busy selecting another slave, who is dragged over a second rail and secured in the manner of the first. This slave is younger, and I guess his age to be about nineteen or twenty. His prickle is thin, and hangs down limp between his knees. He is crying, trying to fight it as they chain him down, and yet his struggles do nothing but rattle his chains. As they are hooking him down the big man has already begun to squirt his load, pumping out his goo in thick lines of cream. As they jet out of his cock the boy pumping his dick holds a bright blue glazed pot and catches the man's entire load of spunk in it. On and on he ejaculates his thick and copious wad. He grunts it out, his eyes wide as he shoots it, his cock vomiting out his load as the wooden rod is made to fuck his ass. As he is grunting the cutter comes to him, almost as if he is attracted by his noises. The cutter's eyes are sparkling with an eagerness that is obvious and apparent. As the man's load fizzles and he stops squirting the cutter grins, and as he does he rotates the knife and sets the angle of his blade. The rod is pulled out of the slave's big ass with a "pop," and as it is removed the cutter steps behind the slave and hefts up his big sac of nuts which have just squirted their last and final load.

The big slave feels the boy cutter grab his balls, and as he does he panics. He jerks hard against the chains that bind him to the floor, and his ass bobs up and down to the extent that it can as it hangs over the rail. The chains rattle with his desperation. He knows he is about to be unmanned, and the fear in his face is obvious. Still, things are happening, fast, and even though I am close I have to concentrate to see it all. The cutter pinches the bottom of the big scrotum, and then pulls the loose skin down, hard. Almost in the same instant he jerks his right hand, which holds the knife, and as he does he slices it into the fold of skin, making a single perfect cut, right at the very bottom of the slave's huge scrotum.

The slave screams "ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" as he feels the cut, and he slams his head back and his big thigh muscles tighten. His spent cock is dripping a single line of drool, almost like snot, and his thick, powerful cock bobs up and down as the unmanning is initiated. The cutter moves quickly, and with his left hand he grasps the man's scrotum, near the top, and with a pulling down motion he literally strips the man's two big testicles right out of the sac, popping them out through the slit he has made. The man's exposed eggs are big, very big, like small plums hanging from their delicate cords. I am so close I see everything. His twin balls are pulsating with life, the very essence of the man exposed and the definition of his masculinity resting in the hands of the teenage cutter. There is a whitish tube that seems to run right down into each testicle, and another darker one, filled with blood, that seems to enter into the side of each ball.

In a way his pulsating orbs remind me of pig balls, although they are bigger of course and look massive in comparison. With a careful flick of his knife he cuts the whitish cords, and as he does the man grunts and his legs shudder. His ass hole opens, and then it closes. I can see the slave is sweating, and his back glistens. The cutter pulls downward then on the slave's twin orbs, pulling them backward and upwards at the same time, between his legs, stretching the remaining vessels. The slave grunts, and his chains rattle as he tries to struggle. I lean forward to get a better view.

Then, unexpectantly, the cutter twists the man's two exposed balls, around and around, twisting the still attached blood vessels even as he stretches them. The very second he finishes, he lays the side of his blade up against the remaining tubes then, sideways, and rapidly begins to move his knife up and down along their exposed length. It’s the very opposite of a slicing motion, instead just scrapping the blade sideways up and down the side of the pulsating tubes. I've never seen another cutter do it that way. The two tubes start to tear, shredding really, and then less than a second later the man's balls are free and no longer his. The cutter grins as he steals the stones, almost laughing, and then with a toss he throws them into a small wooden bucket that is waiting for them. The big slave grunts as it is done, and then he just collapses over the rail, all the fight and struggle gone with his severed manhood.

Surprisingly there is little blood, and what blood there is stops in only a few minutes. That I had not expected, and it is immediately apparent that his method of stretching, twisting, and shredding the blood vessels instead of cutting them has some merit. The man's big sac looks funny, now that it is empty, and his cock shrinks and the big end of his dick disappears inside his foreskin like a turtles head hides with fear. I wonder if it will come out again, or if he's had his last erection. I suspect that his cock will never be fully hard again.

The cutter washes his hands and moves to the younger slave, while his helpers untie the new eunuch and pull him off to the side. There are mattresses of new straw and as he is laid upon them he just stares with open eyes, his legs slightly spread as he feels the ache between his legs. He's been unmanned by a boy, who is more of a man now than this slave will ever be again. His empty sac is apparent, and it is obvious he is no longer a man. The man looks up at me and then looks away, his face red with the embarrassment of what has been done to him.

I look back to the cutter, just in time, and as I do I see him nut the younger slave in less than a minute. There is no milking this time, and the cutter just goes for his balls without any hesitation. The boy's prickle still hangs down with fear, like a worthless hose that is limp and useless. The cutter doesn’t seem to care, and having a boner is obviously no requirement to be nutted. The cut is made the same way, and as it happens the slave screams out, begging, his voice high and shrill and panicked. When his nuts are stripped out and pulled upward he squirts a stream of urine out of his soft hose, his thin stream splashing the stones beneath his legs. As he pisses himself his face goes white, the moment of his castration scaring him to the core. Nobody took much notice, or seemed to care. Then, with a shudder, the unmanned slave boy's eyes roll back into his head, just as the cutter finishes the scraping cut, and tosses two more eggs into the little bucket. Almost like a stream is dammed, the slave stops squirting urine in that instant, literally cut off mid-stream as it was happening.

The cutter is on a role, and immediately selects another man, who is over the rail almost before he knows it. While they are chaining him down the cutter takes a moment to wash his hands, drying them on a clean towel. This one has blond hair, and bright blue eyes, and his body is perfect. He's a young man, a teenager, who probably is about the same age as the cutter. I overhear that he's been a field worker, who liked to get into trouble and his owners grew tied of him and sold him for another. For a mere boy he has a strong, powerful body, and for some reason it seems a waste to me to take his nuts and ruin him. Well, he's a slave so I understand it. Still, the cutter I think enjoys looking at him, and with a nod he calls over his milk boys who move to collect the spirited teen's last wad. He doesn’t have an erection, but that changes quickly.

When the wooden dowel is inserted into the blonde's ass he grunts, loud, and starts to struggle like a madman. At the same time his cock goes stiff, and soon is jutting up at a forty-five degree angle. His thin cock beads on the end with precum, and it bobs up and down to his heartbeat. He fights against his bonds, and his muscles strain as he pulls against the chains. His back glistens with sweat. Boy he doesn't want to let them have his wad! Of course, the rod in his ass slams deep inside, pushing into his prostate and filling his hole. He opens his eyes, and stares down, between his own legs, at the other boy who starts milking his dick and holding the collection pot for his wad.

God he's hard. His prick juts up with pride, stiff and eager, and the end begins to ooze with precum as the boy pumps his pole. His sac of nuts draws up, and it's obvious his bag is full and it has been a long while since he has shot a load. He can't hold out thirty seconds. He begs...then says "No...oh...oh NO....NOOOOOOOOO" he yells as he begins to squirt. His entire body shudders and then the teenager squirts out his load, his powerful rhythmic squirts dumping his teenage load of cream into the pot in squirt after squirt after squirt. His beautiful cock squirts his cream out in powerful jets, one after the other, each one pumping into the jar with such force you can hear it entering the vessel. It's one of the most powerful ejaculations I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of men cum over the years so that is saying something.

As his wad hits the pot it draws the cutter to him, like a man is drawn to a waiting pussy. Then the wooden rod is popped from the teenager's ass and the cutter goes to work. Again, it’s a sharp pull downward on the teenage sac, and a quick slice on the bottom to open the purse. The teen doesn’t like it, and as he feels it being done to him he jerks and shudders and pulls, hard, against his restraints. The cutter strips out his balls, and toys with them for a second, then he takes the sperm ducts with a quick nick of the knife. He follows that by his twisting motion, pulling the boy's balls back and lifting his sack upward between his legs. After that it’s the fast back and forth scrapping that eventually severs the testicles from their teenage owner. Spent, exhausted, and deballed, the blond haired teenager is left only with an empty sac and a sore ass, violated by a wooden rod that pumped him as if he was a woman. To my side a fat man laughs, and as I look at him I realize he is the boy's new owner, and soon enough it will be his cock that will replace the wooden rod. The boy of course knows it, and now unmanned there is nothing for him except to heal so he can spread his legs and let it regularly be done to him.

I look down the line and there are more than two dozen men waiting for their turn with the knife. One after the other they will be unmanned, their balls slowly filling the wooden bucket that is waiting for them. Still more are being washed and shaved, and there is no doubt that this day will drag on for a while. Turning back to the rail I watch as yet another slave is milked, a big brute of a man with a beard and a chest of hair. You can see where his nest of hair was stolen, and his thick cock looks odd growing out of his hairless groin. He struggles the entire time his cock is being manipulated, and his big ass moves up and down, humping the rail, struggling to get lose before it is too late. The boy moving the rod in his ass shows no mercy, but slams it home again and again and again. The man grunts with each deep penetration of the rod. Still, he holds out for several minutes, but eventually the combination of the young boy working his dick and the rod in his ass combine until the feeling boils up and overtakes him.

He grunts louder, and shoots out his load, pumping out his jism in a primal attempt to fertilize something, even if it's only the bright blue pot that captures his wad. The slave has a huge cock, really huge, with a thick hose that is close to a foot in length. The entire pole quivers, and the big purple end glistens in the light even as he shoots. He squirts and squirts, his wad huge in comparison to the younger teen that was just unmanned over the same rail. It goes on for close to a minute, and the cutter just waits and grins, patiently waiting to take his balls and empty his sac. Finally, his ejaculation ends, and as it does the boy working the wooden rod pops it out of his ass, and the second it is gone once gain the cutter goes to work on this sac full of balls.

This time the man screams like a cut pig, yelling as he loses his balls, struggling like a madman that knows the end is near. I've never seen a slave fight so hard to keep his balls, and he jerks so hard he literally wiggles the rail he is chained over. In the end it doesn’t make any different though, and soon enough his two fat balls are in the bucket with the others. The two big egg-sized balls rests on top of the others, and the small bucket is full then, filled to the top with stolen manhoods. I look at the cutter, and his freckles adorn his face. I notice the boy has a boner, stiff in his pants, and it is obvious that he is enjoying his work.

About that time one of the helpers picks up the bucket, which has been filled up with the severed balls of the slaves being cut. A new bucket replaces it, and as I watch I see the full one carried out of the cutting area. I figured it was headed for the apothecary shop, but I was wrong. Instead, as I watch, the boy carrying it walks directly across the street, and into an adjacent restaurant. God! Then, in a surprise, my mouth starts to water, and I realize for the first time I am hungry. I've never actually tasted fresh balls from the pens, and I wonder how they would compare to the pig nuts I fry on the farm. I stare at the restaurant, and then back at the rail, where yet another slave is being trussed out and prepared for his unmanning.

This slave fights hard, and it takes some doing to get him chained down. He's an older man, in his forties I guess, with some fat on his belly. His cock is fat like the rest of him, but short, and even though it is already stiff and hard it is not impressive by any measure. At the most it’s a four inch cock. The big man is screaming, about some kind of a mistake, claiming he is not a slave and begging for a reprieve. Like me, he is balding, and it occurs to me that once his balls are gone he will likely keep the rest of his hair. I don't know why that occurs to me, but it is true, and perhaps it's one of the few good consequences of losing your balls. Right now he is screaming and begging in a panic, knowing his time is nearing and he is helpless to stop it. Well, perhaps keeping his head of hair will partially compensate him.

I can't help but emphasize with him, and being of the same age it is hard not to imagine he is me. The cutter seems disgusted by him, and doesn’t call for a milking. Instead, the red headed boy just walks up and grabs his sac, pulling it downward to make the slice. The fat man spins his head around and says directly to the cutter: "Stop....please...this is a mistake. It wasn't me---I don't deserve this! I'm married for God's sake and my wife wants me whole! She is on her way here now to straighten this all out! She will pay you, well----so please, wait---for God's sake PLEASE give me a chance to work this out!"

The boy cutter looks at him, holding his balls, feeling his sac and with the knife poised for the cut. He smiles slowly, and then he says in his pubescent voice "Does your wife like your little cock that much?"

The slave doesn’t answer...but stares, and time seems to stand still. The boy pushes the tip of his blade against the bottom of the man's sac, and says "Well? I asked you a question....does your wife enjoy your little nub of a cock fucking her hole?"

He stares for a second, but the sharpness of the blade grabs his attention, and the fat man nods his head then, and with a quivering, scared voice, he says "My wife is satisfied with who I am."

The cutter laughs, and then he pushes in the blade and makes the cut, slicing open the bottom of the big scrotum, and as he does he says "She deserves better."

The man screams then, and as he does the cutter squeezes hard on the top of his sac, puling downward with his fist and stripping the man's two balls through the slit in a well practiced motion. The man's eggs pop out of his scrotum and into the boy's hand, where they seem to pulsate with a life of their own. The boy works quickly, and nicks the white cords and twists the man's nuts, and just as he pulls them backward between his legs the man's cock pulsates and he squirts out his load. As his jism pumps from his stubby pole his entire body shudders, and his eyes go wide as he feels his last ejaculation. At that moment the boy takes his balls and turns the man into a eunuch. I watch the man's expression as he loses his balls, and he slams his body forward, into the rail, jerking his head backwards as his balls are stolen. His face goes blank then, as he feels his loss, and after that he just collapses over the rail, his final load of semen spent, laying wasted on the stones between his legs.

Then the boy laughs....grinning wide across his face, and then he says: "Well, it looks like your wife will need to find another cock for her hole."

As the man's balls go into the new bucket the cutter turns to another slave, and I decide I do not need to see anymore. It is time to leave anyway, and lunch is something I could use and the smells from across the street have my full attention. I've seen enough, and learned a few things. Besides, the sun is high, and after watching one bucket being filled I know I do not need to see another. I decide a set of sautéed oysters from the slave pens is just what I need. The adjacent restaurant looks clean, and the sign outside advertises that it serves them fresh, lightly breaded and then cooked in caramelized man cream and clarified garlic butter. The prices are reasonable, and it seems like a good place to go.

I leave the cutting area, and walk across the street. I pass a hot looking woman running in the opposite direction, hurrying and with a desperate look on her face as she heads toward the cutting area. I wonder. Oh well, as I take my table I can see the wooden fire and the cooks making the dishes and a wonderful smell permeates the place. I notice a brightly blue glazed clay pot, resting on a bed of ice, and as I do I cannot help but smile, my mouth watering as I savor the thought of the meal to come. Outside I can hear the chains rattling, and occasionally there is a cry as another man is deballed. Off and on I hear grunting too, as slave after slave shoots their last load and pumps out their cream for the restaurant.

[Authors note: © Copyright May, 2004. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author.]