Submission Date: 2002-07-08 By: krister
[Gay] [Nullification] [Penectomy] [Testicles]
Kris has to deal with a make or "break" situation, then ends up getting a nice surprise in the end
Market Day, Part II
We pulled into Mike’s place and dropped his asset off, left in the care of “the missus,” as Mike referred to his wife. When she was securely in control of her newly castrated houseboy, we left for my place, so that Mike could help me unload my new “guests.”
We were all getting to be pretty tired, so I assigned sleeping quarters to each of the assets, forewarned them about perimeter alarms signaling any attempt at escape, and we all settled in for the night, bidding our helpful neighbor goodnight.
The next morning, awake early as is usually my habit, I roused out the two men whom I would be getting to know well over the next few months. “Bathroom’s around the corner here. There are supplies and towels in the cupboard. Be quick about things and we’ll get you both some clothes to wear until we can order more. Breakfast will be ready in 15 minutes. Don’t be late.”
While tending to the cooking, I also rummaged in some closets, and found some of my old clothes, and those of my late uncle. They’d work to keep my temptations covered for a while, at least until we could get some new things ordered in from town for them.
I called out, “Get your asses moving you two! Food’s ready!”
Alex, my new houseboy, entered the kitchen eating area right away, while Mark, the surly one, made sure to show his defiance by coming in two or three minutes later. As they each came in, I gave them a pile of clothing and watched as it was put on right there. Uncle’s pants were a bit tight on mean Mark, but showed a nicely formed ass. Alex virtually swam in my jeans he was so thin.
I told Alex to serve up the meal. There was a strained silence on the part of the two assets, waiting for me to speak. I let them wonder what their first day was going to be like, while I ate, saying nothing. Finally, when the meal was done, and Alex had cleared the dishes to the kitchen sink, it was time to talk.
“First of all, I’m going to tell you a few things about myself, then a few things about each of you. And then we’ll deal with anything else that comes up,” I said, trying my best to sound authoritative. Truth be known, I think I was about as nervous as those two were, probably for the same reasons. How was life about to change, and what was to be done about it.
“I am a fairly even tempered sort of person, until I am crossed, and then watch out! If you get me riled up, I will zap you back on your ass so fast you won’t know what hit you! Cooperate and get along, do what is expected of you, and you’ll do well. I will expect each of you to put in a full day’s work; with that, you’ll be able to enjoy the evening free to amuse yourselves. Television, games, whatever. I will treat you civilly and as a friend and coworker. I’ll expect the same with respect in return. You’ll find that, while you’re not free to leave, you can be at home here.”
“Alex, your duties have already begun. You will take care of everything about the house. The wash, cooking, cleaning, and so on. You will also tend the house garden, so that there’ll be plenty to eat. You’ll take care, after awhile, of ordering supplies from town, and any other duties I may assign along the way. Questions?”
“I understand that you’re gay, Alex. At least that is what your record shows.”
Alex went immediately to a fear mode, expecting to be abused for this. “Y-y-yes, sir!”
“Good,” I said. “So am I. Perhaps, you’ll enjoy a night or two in my bed.”
A sneering look of superiority fled across Mark’s face, as I turned to him. “Don’t even think, fuck head, that being gay makes me weak. You’ll learn otherwise very quickly.” I decided then that I’d have to lay down some challenges right away with Mark, so that the game was defined.
“You’re a mean son-of-a-bitch, Mark! You’re a survivor! Congratulations! You’ve survived the streets, the correction system for kids, and even now, the correction system for adults. You did it by being mean, by keeping everyone at bay, not letting them know that you’re alone and scared shitless. You learned how to hate those who abused you, and you now hate anyone in authority because of that abuse. You think you’re immune. I think you’ll find out different around here! You’re not tough or mean enough!”
The look of hatred that was in his face was so palpable, I could feel it reach out and grab me by the throat. I shook it off, and continued. “You’re going to work side-by-side with me every day from now on. You’re going to find out what it means to be a human being, even if I have to be inhumane to do it. You’re going to find out what mean really is.”
“Now, I need some measurements from each of you for clothing.” I pulled out a tailor’s measuring tape and, while measuring Alex, gave him a thorough going check out. He would do for now, but he needed some hard work and lots of food to fill out from the ravages of street drugs.
Mark, on the other hand, when I got to him, was obviously well muscled and well fed. When measuring his inseam I made sure to be a bit rough, jamming my thumb in toward his inguinal canal, just to make him wince. After yesterday’s surgery, our mean but buff eunuch was doing his level best, still, to be tough and not show any pain.
With all measurements in hand, I quickly placed an order at a local store, which would deliver several sets of clothes for each that afternoon. It was time to be about the day’s business. I quickly showed Alex where everything was for cleaning, and told him we’d be back for lunch at 11:30.
I indicated to Mark that he should follow me. We went outside, and started toward the horse barn. Along with a couple of crops, I raised thoroughbred horses, and it looked as though my venture was beginning to pay off, with several new foals. I told Mark to start cleaning out stalls, and placing new bedding straw. I showed him what to do, and left him to do it. I went down a few stalls, and started brushing down a pregnant mare that was about ready to drop, talking to her, checking her out to make sure she was doing well. She was, so I stepped out after a bit, and Mark was still cleaning the first stall.
“What the hell is keeping you? At the rate you’re going, it’ll take you ‘til next December to finish the stalls.” He just stood there looking at, as though daring me. I decided there and then to take the fight to him. So I reached to my belt, and pushed with my thumb the button on the “zapper.” I kept it on, so he would get a full charge.
He dropped to the floor, writhing in intense pain, and the curling into as small of a ball as he could make himself, after I stopped pressing. My rock hard erection was throbbing suddenly and intensely at what I had just done. I let him recover for about 3 minutes, and then ordered him to stand up. Haltingly and painfully he did. “Next time, it’ll be even longer asshole. I told you, you weren’t mean enough. Now get to work, and don’t be slow about it.”
It didn’t take him long to get the remaining stalls done, but it sure too a while for my raging cock to slow down. I liked what I had done, in a strange kind of way. The novelty of power over another human being thrilled me. I knew I was going to have to use some of it to control my cock, too. The paradoxical thought occurred to me that what I intended to do to Mark would in other circumstances put me in prison for a very long time. But under this circumstance, I was within my rights, and perfectly legal.
* * * * * *
It was about four weeks of repeated zapping before Mark finally began to give in and stop resisting so much. Alex, on the hand, had never been zapped once. He had the house all spiffed up, and the garden’s weeds were defenseless against his onslaught.
On the second night he was at the farm, I abruptly asked him to my bedroom after Mark was settled in. I invited him to sit next to me on my bed, told him to relax and tell me his story. He told a pretty normal story for a young addict, the usual and expected history of abuse, in his case psychological and social. The rejected and thrown away gay kid who found solace and escape in drugs.
As his story came out, the tears came with it, soaking my shoulder. I held him and let it just run its course. That night, I just held him as we slept. He needed it, and damned if he hadn’t touched my tender spot.
After that initial night, it was almost routine that Alex would slip into my bed. I would reach over and kiss him, and turn off the light. I would lightly stroke his slender body, his chest and nipples, down to his navel, relishing the light dusting of downy hair there. I reached down and stroked and held his balls, safe from the knife. I would usually not give his balls too much attention, since I didn’t want to torment him.
Slowly, Alex would put a hand against my chest and gently pushed me back to the pillow. Expertly, he would slowly begin to lick and suck my nipples, the tongue going in little circles interspersed with a very light nip every once in a while. It drove me nuts it was so thrilling. Occasionally he would manage to include one or the other ear as well, as he slowly came to straddle me.
Slowly, with practiced ease, he would work his way down from my chest, through the little forest of my hair, to lick my spunk hunks. He would engulf them each at a time, lightly rolling my testicle in his mouth, gently sucking. He would work his way up my rigidly rapt cock, licking with little darts of his tongue, as he intensely sucked my glans. It drove me as wild as when he worked my nipples and ears.
With great anticipation, Alex would lower himself onto my cock, slowly absorbing it, bit by bit, until it was in all seven inches. He rocked slowly up and down, slightly forward and back, as he rode my purple passion pole until Mount Vesuvius would blow its top thoroughly up his ass. Resting and catching his breathe, he would work his ass muscles to gently milk my cock of every last drop of man juice I had.
* * * * * *
Now, I said that Mark was not bucking me so much now after four weeks of enforcement of my will over his. He was becoming less resistant, but he was still resistant. And so it was, when one day Mike, my neighbor showed up to pay a visit, to see how I was coming along with my new assets.
“Mr. Attitude is still resisting, but I’m wearing him down. He makes my thumb sore from zapping him so much.”
“Have you fucked the manhood out of him yet?” Mike asked. “You gotta strip ‘im of any last shred of manhood and dignity. Break every ounce of him.”
“So how do I do that? Just by fucking him?”
“Sure, it’s a good place to start. If’n you want I’ll take the lead off crack at him. Missus ain’t been putting out lately, anyway.”
“If it will help, at this point I don’t care. Mark,” I yelled, “get over here.” He walked slowly, somewhat defiantly over to the barn entry where we were standing.
Mike hauled off and punched Mark square in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him, and putting him on his ass on the floor. “Get up” he said, and as he came up he came up with a lunge. I was ready, but I didn’t zap him. I figured Mike knew what he was doing. He did.
As Mark cam with a lunge, Mike just as quickly brought his knee squarely up into Mark ‘s face, simultaneously crashing both fists clamped together with great force on the back of his head and neck. Mark dropped to the floor. Mike was hardly breathing hard; I wondered at just he able he was.
Mike reached down and grabbed Mark by the back of his shirt, and helped drag him to his feet. He ordered Mark to strip then and there. Looking at me to see if this was for real, I told him to do as he was told. After stripping, Mike ordered him to turn around. Upon doing so, Mike shoved him hard and bent him roughly over a workbench that was conveniently situated.
Without giving any quarter Mike pushed in on him, keeping him down with one hand, and hurriedly pulling his cock from his fly. It was definitely not one for the record books, but it made good effort at it. As big around as a handrail, and about nine inches long, he just lined up on Mark’s thoroughly resistant pucker ring. He reached around and grabbed Marks cock, so he would have some leverage for his push.
He just simply rammed it in. The assets anus simply split and gave way. A loud grunt, and sharply inhaled breath was the only sound that escaped Mark. Mike rammed his cock home, being certain each time to make as much pain as he could. Mark just took it, nary a sound to be heard except for the in and out suction of the big cock in the torn asshole. When he was done, I handed Mike a towel, and he wiped his bloody cock, and tucked himself away.
“There you go. Your boy-fucker just got taught a lesson.”
“I reckon he did.”
“You oughta try some. He’s nice and tight.”
“Naw, reckon I’ll wait till he’s healed up a bit. You reamed him pretty good.”
Just then Mark fell to the floor in a dead faint. He was flushed red and his forehead was burning up. He was having a heat flash from testosterone withdrawal. It knocked him silly, coming on top of the punishment meted out by Mike.
* * * * * *
About Six Months Later
One night as Alex came into the bedroom - there was no longer any pretense of separate bedrooms - I told him I had a surprise for him. I held up a small tool that I had picked up in town earlier. He had no clue what it was for, and said so. I told him to get out of his clothes and stand squarely in front of me.
The hard work and good food had been doing well by him. He was filling out nicely, had developed a nice tight hockey player’s butt - kinda high, round and muscled. I reached out and took hold of his cock. I put the tool, which looked like a weird sort of pliers, to the ring that so terribly held his foreskin together. With a slight twisting motion, the ring split, and I pulled it out.
Instantly his cock leapt to attention, eliciting a gasp and hug and a kiss. I told him that the night was his, to use his cock on me in as many ways and as often as he could. The night was a blur. Twenty-year-old libido suddenly set free after a year of confinement meant that I got fucked three times, and sucked him to fruition twice before we were done. I say fucked, because the ravages of need overrode any sense of emotion or tenderness. It was, however, the first night that I told Alex that I loved him.
In the morning, before the alarm had a chance to sound, Alex was on me again. What I wondered had I wrought? But I will always remember what he said that morning.
“You know, last night I don’t think you thought I heard you! But I did! I heard when you said you loved me, and I want you to know that I love you, too! I have almost since the beginning, when you would hold me.”
It was quite the contrast to the picture that Mark painted. He was becoming less and less resistant, preferring not to fight losing battles. But I was nowhere near breaking him, as I’d hoped would be the case. I had been periodically fucking him - he would just bend over and offer his ass. He would do as he was told with just enough speed to keep from too much trouble. But the spark of hatred would occasionally slip out of his eyes, and showed the smoldering fire within.
After consulting with Mike, I had decided enough was enough. I called the doctor in town and told him we would need his services at the farm. Arriving that afternoon, he found that I had taken advantage of the time to securely restrain Mark to his bed, face up.
“This’s the one you want me to do? Last surgery was a fine job; this one will be just as good. Time for you to lose your cock, boy,” The doctor set about examining his patient, while Alex and I set up the equipment needed.
“You need us to help, doc? Or you want us out of the way?”
“Given the tight space and the primitive nature of the operating theatre, I think you’d just be in the way. He won’t give me any trouble, will you,” he said while patting Mark’s dick.
“Okay, we’ll wait in the other room.”
We could occasionally hear the buzzing of the laser scalpel as it was cutting, or finally the hissing of the skin sealer as the doctor closed up the incisions he had made. The doctor came out after a time, pulling off his gloves, one into the other, and said, “He’s got nothing left, just a meatal opening a few inches from his anus.”
I thanked the doctor and offered him coffee, which he declined. Alex and I set about cleaning up, and helping to put the surgical equipment away and in the doctor’s hover car. As I was paying the bill, he said, “Let him rest about five days, easy duty for five more, that back at it, as he can take it.”
I went back into the bedroom, releasing the restraints. Mark was awake, but unable to move until the paralytic agent the doctor had given him wore off. But the one thing that was definitely not paralyzed, were his tear ducts. There were tears slowly rolling down either side of his face, dropping absorbantly onto the pillow.
I left him to his misery, and to his rest. It was definitely a time to ponder and think about this power over another being. Wondering if I had been overly cruel, and invited Mark to defy me by my hostility toward his attitude, I walked aimlessly about my farm.
Returning to the house in time for the evening meal, I found that Alex had already hand fed Mark and seen to his needs. Alex and I ate in silence, as I was in no mood for talking. After dinner, I went to Mark’s bedside and sat down. He was asleep at the moment, and I just watched him. Without the strains of his life pulling at him in his sleep, he looked innocent, gentle, and almost child-like.
That night sleep was not easy, and Alex tried his best to comfort me, but it was no use. I felt guilty about ordering the penectomy and realized that I had taken my power too far. I was also determined that I would never attend another asset auction again.
The next morning, after breakfast was done, I went into Mark’s bedroom again, and sat by his bedside.
“Here to gloat?” he asked.
“No. No, quite the opposite. I’ve come to realize a few things since yesterday afternoon. Aside from the obvious lesson that losing battles ought not be maintained against all odds, I realized that power and I don’t get along.” The puzzled look on Marks face was expectant, as I continued. I came in here to apologize to you for what little it’s worth. Not just for the loss of your body parts, but your dignity, your humanity, and your right to life without my destroying it.”
I got up and left, not knowing what else to say or do. I worked the day dark, and took my dinner in silence again. I went to check on Mark and found him sitting up on the edge of his bed. I sat down, saying nothing. I don’t think anything needed to be said. After time, the quiet became ever more still, until I broke it by standing and offering my hand to Mark.
He took it, rising to his feet, albeit gingerly. Gently I took him close and hugged him, letting my tears fall on him. Still nothing was said, as I left the room.
It was about Two weeks later, when Mark was healed up fairly well that he began to rejoin us at the dining table. That first morning it was obvious that there was a change in the air. He was not sour, gloomy or angry, but actually trying to be cheerful. It actually became the start of a long friendship that I still treasure today.
* * * * * *
Another Six Months Later
It was becoming obvious that our little household was a changed and relatively happy place. Mark was a changed man, no longer defiant. Alex and I were obviously in love, and it was growing stronger and stronger by the day, so that it was no surprise when one day I asked Alex if he would marry me. Of course, he accepted immediately.
On a cloud, I set off for town to see my attorney-at-law, and ask about the rules and such for marrying an “asset.”
“Of course, unlike days gone past,” he said, “same sex marriages are now permitted, as you know. Of course, it is also a bit unusual to engage a same sex marriage where one party is a prisoner of the law. It isn’t unusual between some farmer and a female prisoner. Most such marriages don’t work in the long run.”
He pulled a hefty book of laws from the shelf behind him, opened it up, and flipped through a bunch of pages. “Aha. Here it is. One little section: any marriage between the owner of a prisoner and a prisoner shall in no way obviate the prisoner’s sentence. So, even though married Alex could not leave if the marriage did not work out, he would still be a prisoner.”
“Here we are, the other section I was looking for. ‘In any marriage between the owner of a prisoner and the prisoner, and where both shall be of the same sex, it shall be mandatory that one party be castrated.’ So there you have it, you’ll have to clip your boy. Nothing else to it.”
After taking my leave of the lawyer’s office, I wandered aimlessly about town for about an hour as the reality of my news sunk in. I couldn’t ask Alex to sacrifice for me, but I so wanted him to have all the benefits of marriage. I had no choice but to come to the conclusion that if I loved him enough, I would give up my own nuts instead.
Resolved, I set off for the doctor’s office. I was the only one in the waiting room as I walked in. The nurse/receptionist had gone home for the day, and had left a large bell on the counter. I rang it. The doctor came out, recognized me, and said hello, come on back.
When properly seated in the examining room, the doctor asked what he could do for me. I explained my dilemma to him, and my proposed solution. Slowly, he nodded, and asked, “Are you sure? Medicine is quite advanced, but not advanced enough to reattach or transplant testicles, in case you later change your mind.”
“I am absolutely certain, with no reservations doc.” I signed the release form that allowed the doctor to castrate me.
As instructed I stripped naked and reclined on the examining table, placing my feet in the stirrups. He put a cover drape over me and set about his business. First, he taped my cock back to my belly so that it would not be in the way. With a pain block on, he repeatedly used his hair removal device to clear my inner thighs, scrotum, and so on.
Next he took out his laser scalpel and plugged it in. “Last chance,” he said. I said nothing, but nodded at him. He swiftly split my scrotum down the center, deftly removing excess skin that would not be needed later. Trimming away the inner sac, he exposed my balls to the chill air in his office. Quickly he clipped off each nut, placing it in a bloody tray that contained the other remnants of skin. Bringing both sides of what remained of my scrotum together, he applied the skin sealer, quickly closing things up nice and tight. It sure was easy. Took only about 15 minutes.
Slowly, I sat up on the table, dropping my feet from the stirrups. I reached down to feel my now denuded and nutless crotch. It was smooth and silky feeling, and felt comfortably appropriate. As I stood from the table to get dressed, my love for Alex grew with each movement.
I stopped by the courthouse, and took out a marriage license, and then stopping in to see the judge. I arranged for the judge to stop in the following Saturday. On my way home I stopped by to see Mike and the missus. Upon telling them of the news, I invited them to be the witnesses.
“Didn’t think you had it in you, boy. Literally or otherwise, you know.”
* * * * * *
The Following Saturday
Alex and I were both decked out in a pair of rented tuxes, despite this being a private affair. We had to have pictures that were worthy of keeping dear.
As we assembled to begin, I couldn’t have been more happy or proud as my love was at one side, and Mark, now my friend, stood at the other as best man, actually for both of us.
The ceremony only took a matter of ten minutes, after which there was lots of picture taking and hand shaking with hugs and kisses were appropriate. When the others had all left, save Mark, Alex and I each got an overnighter and made ready to leave, trusting Mark to care for himself.
We checked into a hotel a couple of towns away. After a thoroughly satisfying meal that Alex didn’t have to cook, we retired to the bridal suite, so to speak. Since I was stronger, I carried Alex across the threshold. We toasted one another with champagne, and took our ease. Our ease became somewhat more passionate as we each started to remove the clothing of the other, and then our own, until we were fully ready to consummate our marriage.
We slid into bed, Alex heading straight for my nipples and ears. As he worked his way down, he would have nothing of my effort to return the favors he was bestowing so generously upon me. As made his way to my as yet capable erection, he slowly reached down with both hand and took hold of my ankles, and lifted them high.
Being well exercised and limber I was able to assist him in bringing them back far enough that he could then enter me, gently and slowly, while leaning forward to kiss me squarely. Tongue met tongue, and fire flew, as he slowly yet rhythmically started a pumping motion, pushing into and away from my cheeks. With every stroke of his slender but long penis, Alex would gently rub against my prostate.
As the rhythm gained in intensity, so did my sense of imminence, when suddenly I exploded with an orgasm the likes of which I had never before experienced. Simultaneously, Alex seemingly pushed himself so far into me with such urgency that I could feel his orgasm shoot way inside of me.
We both collapsed to the bed and held, caressed and kissed one another, until we were able to repeat our earlier activity, with as much loving lust as we could muster.
* * * * * *
A Long Time Later
Well, I ain’t such a young one anymore. Alex and I have been married now for going on twenty-seven years. I love him more everyday than ever. Of course, we try to maintain some of our youth, but it’s a lot of work, so every so often is good enough now. Nor do I try to put my ankles behind my ears. Being castrated made that safe to do when I was more limber: as I got my butt pounded, there were no nuts to get wrecked. It was something of an advantage.
The government has long since repealed the regulation for castration, but I don’t regret one bit the decision that I made that one day. I get a shot a testosterone every couple of weeks to keep me going. At first we had to get it from the underground market, but after they repealed the law, I could get it from the doctor.
This worthless farm is still pretty worthless, but we do okay. Not bad for a couple of transplanted city boys. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Alex and I put Mark through college when his sentence was done. He is now a successful businessman, and has a lovely and understanding wife.