[G]Market Day - Revisited, Part 1

Submission Date: 2002-07-08 By: krister

[Gay] [Nullification] [Penectomy] [Slavery] [Testicles] flag


Kris visits the town auction and comes away with a couple of items that will change his life forever.

 

MARKET DAY, Revisited (Part I)

Originally by “Anonymous” Revisited by Krister

Revised and expanded to reflect a fantasy based on this story. Mild editing was done to the original story (part I) to make it consistent and flow into part II.

 

A story about the future

"Thanks for the lift" I exclaimed as I climbed into the cabin of the waiting hovercraft.

"Not a problem, glad to help out" replied Mike the driver. He waited while I belted myself into the couch, and then turned the vehicle towards town.

It was the beginning of a whole new way of life for me. I didn’t realize it at the time of course. Had I known ahead of time, I don’t know that I would have changed any of the events that followed that day. If I did, it would only be to make it better.

It was market day, but not the normal kind of market day that came around once a month. Today’s was a special market that occurred only once a year. An Asset Market. These markets had been held for more than a decade now, and first came about when the government decided that there were too many prisoners in the nation's jails, that they were costing too much to maintain, and were producing nothing of value for society. So the system was changed. Now, the prisons held mostly first offenders. With the exception of a few particularly uncontrollable recidivists, second and subsequent offenders were sold off to the highest bidder, to work off their sentences. It was a double bonus for the government, fewer prisoners meant lower running costs for the state, and the Department of Correction actually made a profit out of selling the unfortunate offenders off. There was some initial resistance to the new system, mainly from those who were concerned that criminals would be back out on the streets again, but once the pilot scheme established that the citizens would be safe, and the offenders would actually be worse off, it was difficult to find an objecting voice.

At first, the prisoners were auctioned in the cities, but a cry from the country, stressing the need for cheap farm labor, meant that they system was soon extended to the smaller settlements. Within a few years every town of any size received an allocation of criminals to disperse. In the larger towns, it was done quarterly, in the smaller ones, once a year.

I was only about thirty-one or two or so, at the time. I was trying my hand at what few small operators ever make a living at: farming. I had inherited a small farm from my uncle, who died an alcoholic death after letting the farm deteriorate almost into ruin. Now, I was a town boy at heart, but was attempting to make something out of the dilapidated mess that had been left to me as my inheritance. I worked a lot of long and hard hours at it, with little time for socializing or the finer joys of life. My friend and neighbor, Mike, advised me to get some assistance, particularly with an Asset Auction coming up soon.

Initially, I resisted the idea; somehow the idea of owning other people didn’t set well. There was not much profit coming from the farm, certainly not enough to pay out wages. So an Asset might not be a bad idea commercially, but still… I guess the notion that finally pushed me over was that I wasn’t buying a human being - just his labor. His labor was his penalty.

So, buying an Asset would mean dipping into the cash reserves I had from selling my house in town, but it meant a better shot at making a go of the farm, so I decided to go for it. So now we were on our way to the market, and I was rather anxious to be at my shopping. "There's the catalogue,” Mike told me. We were flying across some long and flat landscape. "Have a look and see what you think..."

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate this.” Mike was a good friend. He was always quick to offer advice, or to lend him a hand. I knew the favors would need to be returned one day, but that was in the future. I needed the assistance now, and was grateful for it.

I started to flick through the pages. Each one showed a photograph of the asset (as the prisoners were euphemistically called), followed by a physical description and a summary of the criminal record and the length of the current sentence. That was the most important factor in determining how much they would sell for, for at the expiration of the sentence the asset had to be set free, with no residual value. I noted that Mike had made a few notes in the margins.

"So what am I looking for?" I asked.

"Well" said Mike; scratching his chin "I reckon that a man in your position should go for a reasonably young one. Good solid type, capable of plenty of hard work. Make sure he's healthy. Doesn't matter if he's not too bright, you can do the thinking for him. And you should also get one with as long a sentence as you can. It takes so long to train the bastards; you may as well get value out of them. You might also want to look for someone to clean and cook and keep the house garden, as well."

"But if I get long timers, what happens if he's a dud. No good...."

"Same as if he's a short timer. Get rid of him. Trade him on the second hand market. Of course you wont get all that much for him there, but it's better than nothing. But don't worry; I haven't had one yet that I haven't been able to whip into shape, one way or another. It's amazing how a bit of pain can show them who's boss."

I returned to looking at the catalogue. "So you're looking for one, too, Mike...."

"Yeah. The missus is in my ear about the housework again. The lazy bitch reckons she needs help. So I'll get her a houseboy, that'll shut her up. Pity they're only auctioning males this time. But even when they have women, they're always way more expensive. Supply and demand you see. All these farmers looking for a girl they can put to work all day and then screw all night. There just isn't all that many ones you'd let into your bed though...."

They flew on in silence for a moment. I studied one particular page, over the others. "What do you reckon about this one?" I held the catalogue out so Mike could see it as we flew.

"Yeah. I reckon that's the sort of worker your after...." I made a note of the sale number and turned to the next page. By the time we had landed behind the town square I had found three others who seemed suitable. Mike and I ran through his list as we sat in the car.

Time was slipping away. We joined the stream of buyers and lookers heading for the large vaulted market hall. At the door we had to put our thumbprints to the security panel to identify themselves as taxpayers; that allowed us entry.

Once inside, I was momentarily stunned by all the activity. It was my first time to an Asset Market. Normally, when I came to this hall, it was full of fruit or meat. Today it was full of a different sort of meat. Human meat.

Along one side of the elongated building were a couple rows of cages. Each held a naked male. In the remaining area the bidders milled, mostly farmers, and they were busy chatting with friends about the weather and prices and trends. Farmer talk. At the far end of the building was a stage. There were several men standing on it preparing for the impending auction.

I knew I would have to be quick if I wanted to get a look at all my prospects before the bidding started. Leaving Mike for the moment I quickly walked over to the row of cages. I stopped, fascinated, in front of the first cage that I came to. Asset M12816 was cowering with fear in the back corner. He looked younger than his stated nineteen years. He was a good-looking young man, almost pretty, smooth skinned and fresh faced. That is, if you ignored the look of abject terror in his eyes and on his face.

"Hard to imagine he held up a jewelers shop, ain't it". I turned to see Mike at my side.

"Yeah. Why do you reckon he did it?"

"Drugs probably. That's why he's a bit on the scrawny side. Interesting looking asset. Might be good for a houseboy”

"You reckon?”

"Yeah. Maybe I might try to get one like him for the missus, if he ain't too clumsy." He called out to the guy "Hey boy, lets see you turn a somersault!” I was surprised when the young man quickly moved forward to comply. "They always do" Mike told me. They want to put on a good show. The more you pay for them the better they get treated".

They watched the youth turn his somersault. "Its an old trick I learned" Mike commented. "Shows a lot about coordination and agility. Something had caught the younger farmer's eye. “What’s he got that ring in the end of his cock for?"

"Oh" commented Mike. "They all have them. Standard procedure for prisoners. The first day they're in jail they pull their foreskin up and push a loop through it. Can't get it hard then, you see. Stops them fucking each other." Mike had a quick look at the catalogue. "See, this guy has been in custody since June. That's over four months, and I'll bet he hasn’t seen his knob in all that time. I'll bet he's right horny too, young fella like that. Well, serves him right, if he wants to go around robbing people, he must expect to suffer for it.

"So do you take the ring out once you buy them?" asked Kris.

"It's up to you. Depends how you use them. For houseboys used around women folks and kids, it’s best not too. Some think it makes no difference, otherwise. Not that you've got that problem at the moment, but you can't trust these fucks, they're worse than animals. Remember that. Besides, why give them more pleasure than you have to. Unless, of course, you enjoy playing with it, or something." As he spoke he gave me a strange, sidelong sort of look, both suggestive and vague, as if he were somehow looking for a reaction. I just made out not to notice. I guess Mike still hadn’t figured out yet that I was gay. "Must get awful smelly under there. I mean…" (I was from the old school: my mother had me cut, and never smelly since.)

"Oh, I reckon he'd be clean. The Correction Department's pretty good about keeping them clean. I once saw a guy whose whole cock was covered in blood 'cause he didn't keep himself clean. The jailers got to him with a wire brush. Took all the skin off it. Every last bit. I bet he washed himself very careful after that, once he could stand to touch it again..."

A thick metal bracelet around the youth’s ankle caught my attention, too. I pointed it out to Mike, asking what it was.

"Oh that's his Control,” Mike explained. "They all have that, too. He pointed to a small remote control wand that hung over the door of the cage, well out of reach of the occupant. "That's how you make him do what you want. If he gets a bit slow or lazy, give him a bit of a tickle. If he comes at you threatening like, give him full strength; it'll stop him in his tracks. They say it feels like his leg just got cut off. Never seen one yet who could keep moving when he was zapped at top power."

"But what if he grabs the wand from me?"

"No problem. It only works on your thumbprint. It wont do anything for him at all".

We moved on, and as predicted, each of the naked assets had a ring through his foreskin. The idea of an Asset was both a little bit frightening, and a little bit arousing. I was still a bit apprehensive about the idea of purchasing an asset or two, but now that I was here, and could see them in the flesh, I found myself starting to feel the power of domination and success over the horizon. It was almost bordering on a lust. Whichever I purchased, I could do with them whatever I wanted.

A call over the loudspeaker told us that the auction was about to start. The two of us made our way to the front of the hall. The prices that the first few assets brought caused me some concern. They were rather expensive. "Don't worry" whispered Mike. "They always put the fancies on first. The price will drop once they get into the ordinaries". The price had dropped a bit when Mike was the successful bidder for M12822, one of the earlier assets we had viewed.

"He'll do okay" commented the older man "With ten years to run he'll want to behave, and I reckon the missus will be happy enough with him". The auctioneer moved on.

I made several bids, but each time the bidding moved out of my desired price range. A few times Mike whispered to me to stop, that the asset was over-valued. Despite the growing fear that I would miss out, I took his advice. But then I was suddenly the successful bidder on a thick, heavy-set young fella, Asset number M12848, doing fifteen years for assault, who looked as though he might pull his weight on a farm.

There were only seven assets left to be disposed of when I made a successful bid on an asset I could use as a houseboy. Might as well have someone to keep the place up, along with a produce garden. It was the one we’d looked at first. I managed to get in a fairly low bid; most of the farmers remaining didn’t want skinny little kids, feeling they wouldn’t produce much work or value. Only two bids were made past mine, and I topped them slightly. As the gavel fell, I now owned two assets.

We left the last few assets to be sold behind, leaving the last few farmers to pick them over. I pushed my way through the crowd for a closer inspection of what I had purchased. Asset M12848 was a stocky young man in his early twenties. He was thick set, but it appeared to be mostly muscle. The prefect farm worker. At first glance, I could see that the guy had a definite attitude problem. He literally sneered at me through the bars of the cage. I could see the anger smoldering through the brown eyes, and I was wondering if I was experienced enough to handle such a strong-willed asset.

"Happy with him?” It was Mike.

"Yeah. I hope so...." there was some hesitation in my voice…

"Don't worry. You'll soon belt him into shape. I'll help. Come on, we've got to go and pay for them". He indicated with his hand where a small queue had formed beside the stage.

"You want him cut?" asked the clerk, once the computer beeped acceptance of Mike's thumbprint.

"Yeah, I reckon so. He's going to be hanging about the missus all day, may as well keep both of them out of temptation, especially if she takes a liking for that little sausage between his legs". I had been only half listening to the conversation, so I was caught a bit unawares when Mike turned to me and asked "How about you Kris, you want your two cut?"

"Cut?"

"Yeah, you know, castrated. Gelded. Nuts cut out..."

"Uh, I don't know. What do you reckon...."

"Well, it's up to you. Only costs fifty, and they do it on the spot. The advantage is that it'll make your big one a bit less aggressive, but it'll slow him down too, so you wont get quite as much work out of him". I thought for a moment remembering the look of hate in my big asset's eyes. The idea of castrating another human being was a little bit disquieting somewhere in the depths of my soul; it made me feel uneasy, but I also knew that I would need all the help I could muster to control the man. If cutting off his balls would mean less worries, then I guess I was all for it. On the other hand, my houseboy asset posed no such problem. I quickly offered my thumb in authorization of the purchase prices, and the extra cost of gelding for M12848

"Come on. It's always fun to go and watch". Mike steered us toward the rear of the market hall.

A new concern occurred to me, just then. "But what happens after his fifteen years are up. I mean, once he's free he can hardly get his balls sewn back on again, can he...."

"That's his problem,” replied Mike. "But if you want my opinion, that type of scum shouldn't be allowed to produce kids anyway. Goodness only knows we've got enough on the planet already. As I see it, we're probably doing society a favor. And anyway, even if he kept his balls his fucking days are probably over."

"Eh, how come?”

"The ring in his cock. After a lot of years with it paining them to get erect, most of the guys suffer from a sort of aversion reaction and can’t get it up once the ring is taken out".

The activity in the market hall was tapering off. Most of the assets had already been removed, and the crowd had dispersed, many to the local hotel to continue their socializing. At the rear of the hall we found out assets. Their wrists and ankles had now been chained, each one securely, with their backs to the strong bars that made up the wall of the small cages. Mike's houseboy was looking absolutely petrified, his light blue eyes wide and rolling about in their sockets, a tell-tale trail of snot from his nose indicating that tears had been shed recently.

Nearby, was my newfound laborer. He still looked defiant, but there was something else in his countenance as well, now. Fear. He was a smart cookie, and even if he didn't know exactly what was about to happen, he had the general drift.

The duty doctor came around the corner, and came up to the first cage, my laborer asset.

"Are you the owner?"

"Sure am!" I beamed proudly.

“Is this the one you want castrated?”

I looked at the young man and asked, “What about it fuck-face? You up for a little bit of castration play? With you playing, of course...”

Dead silence and a look of hateful defiance met with the question.

“Yeah! Cut his nuts off, Doc!”

"Okay, can you give me a hand? We'll need to get rid of the hair down there before we start, so if you could hold his cock up and out of the way, it would be a big help".

I hesitated for just a moment, summoning up a little courage, before reaching out and putting my hand on the asset's appendage. The cock was like its owner, short and thick. The foreskin was thick also, the outline of the glans beneath not discernible. The organ tapered to a blunt point. There were a few chunky wrinkles of loose skin, held tightly together by the infibulating ring.

The doctor produced a small piece of equipment from his pocket. It consisted of a small loop, about five centimeters in diameter, with a handle on it. When he switched it on, it let off a low hum. "Be careful with this" The doctor commented. "Don't let the back of your hand get too close, or it'll also get plucked ". He placed the loop close to the asset's scrotum. Immediately small frizzy pubic hairs began to pull away from the skin and attach to it. It must have been hurting the asset, for I could feel him flinch. The asset kept his mouth firmly closed. He was too cool to say anything. At least, not yet.

It took a few passes before the scrotum and inner thigh and nearby crotch was plucked clean. The doctor put his first instrument away, and picked up another.

"Thank you, sir. You can let go of it now".

I reluctantly let the warm flesh fall away from my grasp. "What happens now?" I asked.

"The ring comes out, temporarily that is. I have to check that all is in order". He grasped the end of the asset’s cock and applied a small clamp to the ring. A quick turn and there was a ping of tensioned metal and the ring broke. He deftly removed it from the folds of the foreskin.

Immediately the asset's cock started to erect. "They can't help it,” commented the doctor. After a few months it becomes an automatic response. Funny, isn't it, after a few more years they loose it again, and become impotent". He skinned back the thick skin to reveal the small knob beneath. It was clean, and he let go of it once again. The penis was now fully erect, the foreskin covering no more than half the glans.

"What’s next?"

"Well, I normally have to give them a shot of pain to get the cock down so I can put a new ring in".

"It's a pity you can't sew it up, so that it never retracts and we don't have that problem.” Suddenly I had an idea. I put my face up as close as I could to the asset's face, and looked him in the eye. The hatred and defiance was unmistakable. It was time for the first lesson. "You know what happens now, cuntface?" 1

There was silence as I reached out and grabbed the now denuded balls sitting in their tight pouch. They felt heavy in my hand.

"We're going to help you with your attitude problem. We're going to cut them off for you, and it'll never get hard again. Never". I flicked the erected penis with my finger to emphasize my point. I was searching for a response, and got one. I could see fear, as well, now.

"But I tell you what. I can feel a few months worth of spunk swimming around in here. Been a while since you got your rocks off? I'll bet it has. Several months since you got arrested. I bet before that you were wanking yourself silly every day, virile young fuck like you. That is, when you weren't filling some twat with your meat. God's gift to womanhood, I'll bet." There was silence. "What's that, you prefer little boys? Had your cock up more butts than you can count. Nice fleshy little boy butts. Did they squirm for you when you raped them? Well your going to squirm for me!” As I spoke I tightened my grip on the asset's balls. I could feel the young man tense up, as he attempted to avoid the crushing fingers. It didn’t take much to notice that the cock was still firm. Despite the present circumstances, after months of enforced chastity, the asset had no control over his sex organs.

"Okay" I said, quickly rising to my new responsibility, "You can make a choice. Think about it, you wont get to make very many for the next fifteen years. Now, I can feel all those little sperms, all trying to escape these big fertile balls of yours before the knife comes. So here's a deal for you. If you're prepared to tell me that you're a boy fucking shit-licker who deserves to be castrated to teach him a lesson, then I'll let you have one final orgasm before you loose your manhood forever. Otherwise, well, it's bye, bye balls".

I loosened my grip on the scrotum of my asset, and moved my hand up to rest it on the erect penis. It was hard and throbbing, and I knew from my own experience that it would not take much to bring the asset to orgasm. I continued to stare into his face, while lightly stroking the heavy shaft. I could see the effect it was having, the fear was almost overpowering now. The asset opened his mouth, as if to say something, and then shut it again, firmly. I waited a few seconds more, and then said "Okay doctor, castrate him any time you want!” I dropped the asset’s cock.

The doctor placed a small needle into the flesh beneath the pubic hair around the assets penis. "This will get rid of the erection,” he explained. The organ started to wilt immediately; and within thirty seconds it was nothing but a shriveled prune of an organ. The doctor reached for his infibulating clamp.

"Make it tight, Doc, as tight as you possibly can" I ordered. The doctor was happy to oblige, and inserted the ring as close as he possibly could to the shrouded glans. Still the prisoner remained silent. There was a sort of cracking sound as the ring was pushed tight and sealed. Otherwise, all was quiet.

"Right" said the doctor. "That's the preliminaries over, now it's time for the main event!” He extracted another small device from his pocket and ran it slowly from front to back along the seam of flesh that separated the asset's scrotum into two halves. Kris saw no blade, but he was amazed to see the flesh come apart where the instrument had traversed. When he had the bag split the whole way the doctor separated the two halves, so that the testicles fell through the gap. Kris looked at his asset. The guy was watching the proceedings with an expression of total disbelief. He was not in much pain, but here he was, balls hanging out in the air, about to lose them. Somehow the finality of the situation struck home to him, and he found his tongue.

"Hey man...." he started to say.

"Shut the fuck up,” I replied, "You had your chance...."

"But..." before he could get another word out, I hit him across his exposed balls with the back of my hand. It was not a very hard slap, but totally unexpected, and the gonads were deprived of their usual protection. The asset whimpered, but didn't speak again. It would be the last time the balls would feel pain. I was secretly pleased that I had scored a minor victory in getting the guy to crack.

"It anesthetizes and seals as it cuts,” the Doctor explained tome, holding his instrument up. "Unless you want me to turn the pain block off..."

"Why not?" I replied. I was relishing my newfound dominance.

I once again held the ringed penis out of harms way while the doctor placed his instrument back to the assets crotch. He started to trim back the two halves of the severed scrotum. This time the asset flinched as soon as the instrument was activated, and he squirmed around so much from the pain that the doctor was forced to take things very slowly, and also to warn him of the possible consequences of a sudden movement. "We don't want to take your cock off also. Not yet anyway" he commented to the hapless victim. The asset suffered as best he could, trying to save as much face as the pain allowed him.

The doctor removed about two thirds of the original scrotum, leaving two elongated flaps, one on each side. Once he was happy with the sack he turned his attention to the balls. "Here we go, the first one's coming off now,” he said in a cheery voice, obviously enjoying his job. The severed testicle fell to the floor of the cage. "Now the other one, to join his mate on the floor". The second pink orb fell to the metal floor. A low whimper escaped from the lips of the asset. He could not hold it in; the mental anguish was just too great.

Finally the doctor picked up another of his magic tools. With one hand he pushed the remaining flaps of the scrotum back against the assets crotch. He had judged well; they covered all of the space where the scrotum used to be, with no loose skin remaining at all. "Perfect" commented the doctor. With his other hand he ran the instrument up and down the new seam. It was almost like ironing a shirt, the scar joined and, although there was a definite line where the two parts met, it was hard to imagine there had ever been a scrotum there at all.

"Hey, boyfucker. Watch this...."

The asset looked on, mesmerized, as I slowly lifted my booted foot and lowered it onto the two discarded testicles. There was a dull mashing sound as they ruptured and splattered gore on the floor of the cage. "Too bad, I guess I can't change my mind, now" I said as I turned to follow Mike and the doctor to the next cage.

"Your guy's not here for fucking boys" commented Mike; as soon as we had left the cage "He beat the hell out of a man, nearly killed him."

"I know,” commented the younger man. "But it's more fun this way...." Mike let out a hearty laugh. "You’re learning fast, Kris. Keep it up and that young fuck'll be no trouble to look after at all". I just smiled.

The situation with Mike's asset was totally different. Far from attempting to be cool and remaining silent, he immediately started begging to be spared the knife. Mike had purchased a rather small asset. Only about five-feet and six-inches tall, probably 130 pounds when wet. Mike knew that with his size, even his missus could knock him around, if need be.

"Nah" said Mike. "You'd only get yourself into more trouble. It's for your own good".

The asset had a short, thin cock, and two smallish balls in an elongated, hairless sack.

"I don't think we need to shave him". Commented the doctor, "Lets get the ring out...".

Unrestrained, the penis immediately swelled up to its full length of five inches. The asset had no doubt heard what had just happened in the other cage, for he immediately begged Mike to let him shoot off. Mike agreed. Any hopes that the young man had that he might be allowed to masturbate himself for the final time were dashed, however, when the farmer put his hand to the young assets groin and began to roughly pull the foreskin back and forward over the shiny red knob. It didn't take long, four months of sperm were soon pumping out into the atmosphere, the young man bucking and twisting as he endeavored to make the most from the brief pleasure of his last orgasm. Mike wiped his semen-encrusted hand on the youth's smooth chest.

"Thank you sir!" the lad puffed out as he gasped for breath.

The doctor finished his inspection of the glans, cleaned it up, and picked up his clamp. "How tight?" he asked Mike.

"Oh, pretty tight I reckon. We want to make sure that it does its job".

"Please, sir, not too tight" interrupted the asset.

"Sorry son" replied Mike, almost kindly, "But I know what's likely to happen if it's not tight enough. I know ten years is a long time, but you want to still have it when you finish, don't you. So let's make sure that temptation is well and truly out of harms way".

The asset whimpered as the clamp was tightened, securing his penis. The doctor turned his attention to the lad’s small testicles in their elongated sack.

There was more scrotum than one would expect, so much extra scrotum that the doctor tackled this castration differently than the last. Instead of opening the bag up along the seam, he pulled the balls down to the base of the sack and ran his cutting tool around it horizontally, so that when he got back to his starting point the bag fell off in his hand, leaving the dangling orbs fully exposed, with nothing more to protect them. Kris noticed that the asset had hardly flinched; apparently the doctor had left the pain blocker switched on.

The doctor quickly trimmed the testicles away. This time he worked in silence; Mike didn't feel the need to confront his asset about the loss of manhood. Already the poor boy was suffering so much; any further trauma might have pushed him over the edge. Once the emasculation was complete, the doctor trimmed away at the remaining scrotal skin in order to make a good join. He sealed his handiwork, and then stood up.

"There we are, sir,” the doctor said to Mike. "Don't knock him about too much and he'll be right as rain in a day or two". I looked at the asset; he was quietly sobbing to himself, the tears running down his cheeks. He appeared oblivious to all around him.

As the three of us left the second cage, they stepped around to the cage of my second asset. There they found M12816 cowering in total, absolute fear, tears and snot puddling on the floor beneath him. His rather long, thin penis had let loose - he had pissed all over the floor. His whimpering turned quickly to overt crying and begging. He had heard all the activity in the other two cages and was now expecting to be, himself, castrated.

I gazed at him for a moment, and then decided I could not torment the boy with the prospect of castration, only nineteen and facing twenty years. The prospective houseboy begged, “Sir, please, please, I’ll do anything you want. Please don’t cut me!”

I stared at him for a moment, looked around at Mike, and said, “I can’t. Besides, I didn’t pay to cut this one.” He turned back to the asset, and said, “You’re safe for now boy. Be very grateful for it! And know that at any time, for any reason, they can come off very quickly and easily.” He fainted in relief.

"I'll bring the hovercraft over, and we'll load them up" Mike told me. While I was waiting, I wandered back to see how my own newly created eunuch was getting along.

The hatred burned strongly in his eyes. The fear had gone, there was not much more that I could do to him. I reached out my hand to the asset's groin. The asset flinched at the touch; the wounds were still tender. It seemed funny to see nothing but the squat penis protruding from the remaining pubic hair. I ran my finger over the denuded spot where the scrotum had been removed. It was hard to tell that there had ever been anything there; such was the rapid healing of modern surgery. I inspected the infibulated penis. The foreskin was looking twisted and painful from the tightness of the ring. The doctor had said that it would soon stretch itself to accommodate the new position. Either that or the asset would be in for a very painful time of it. Still, it served him right. He wasn't here for a holiday.

Mike had returned with the hovercraft, and the two of us loaded the cages onto the back platform, securing them tightly and padlocking the cages.

"Fancy a drink?"

"Great idea" I said. The two of us walked over to the hotel. Inside the crowd of farmers who had come into town for Market Day was starting to disperse. We found ourselves a table and ordered a couple of beers.

"So, how are you feeling now?" Mike asked.

"Oh, good. Great, actually. I hope I did the right thing, but... That one of mine looks like a pretty tough cookie...."

"Yeah, but you started off on the right track. Treat him hard, don't give him an inch. Use the tickler on him for the slightest touch of insolence".

"I will". Lowering my voice, about to express a confidence. "Actually Mike, I kind of enjoyed belting him around. I've never done that before with anyone. It was kinda, well, exciting in a way...."

"I know, it's the way most men feel when they first get another man in their power. You wait until you fuck him for the first time!"

"Fuck him?!” There was more than a small measure of surprise in my voice. I was clearly surprised, thinking Mike had no inclinations that way. But using such a thing as a tool to intimidate and overpower… Besides, I had already had plenty of such notions.

"Hell, yes, why not. Nothing wrong with it. You're young and virile, and still looking for a wife, it's only natural you'd want to pop your seed inside another human. It's only a temporary measure, it's not as if you're queer or something. I mean, look at me, I still do it, occasionally, when the missus isn't feeling accommodating".

"You do?"

"Of course. Most of the farmers do it. It’s easy as pie. Really. But if you want, I could come over in a few days and break him in for you. Give you a few pointers."

"I'd appreciate that, Mike".

"No problem. That's what friends are for". We finished our beers and walked back to the car. Mike checked the load to make sure that the cages were secure. I stood there and studied the ass of my mean asset. It was pushed up against the bars that formed the side of the cage, muscular and compact, with a covering of fine downy hair. I reached out and gave the ass a good pat, and thought, 'Yes, I’ll fuck that with pleasure. Sure beats jerking off all the time, that's for sure.’

We climbed into the cabin and turned the vehicle toward home. Market day was over.

Finis, part I