Carrying Out the Sentence

The room was white, brightly lit and smelled of antiseptic. There were cabinets along the walls, a small sink in one corner and a large chair with straps in the center of the room under three bright lights. The door opened and two female guards brought in a naked male prisoner. The prisoner was a large, well-built man in his twenties. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He had a large pair of balls and a sizeable penis. The man’s hands were cuffed behind him and his legs were shackled together. A chain connected his cuffs to the center of the chain connecting his ankles. The guards both carried electric prods at the ready. The prisoner looked around the room.

The blonde guard said, “Prisoner number six seven two will seat himself in the chair.”

The man shrugged and shuffled over to the chair and sat in it. The guards unlocked the handcuffs. They pulled his hands from behind his back and fastened his arms to the chair. Next, they pulled the chain down between his legs, undid the shackles and strapped the prisoner’s legs to the chair. Satisfied that the restraints were properly fastened, the guards stepped back.

The man looked at the guards. “You two look like you’d be lots of fun in the sack. How about a threesome?”

The blond guard smiled. “How about some shocking sex?” she asked, quickly applying her prod to his balls and activating it. The man jerked and cried out.

“Had enough, or do you want some more electrifying sex?” she asked. Without hesitating, she prodded his penis, nipples, and ball sack again. Each application of the prod made him scream and struggle. The blond guard smiled.

“Well, number six seven two, I’ll bet that was the most stimulating sex you’ve ever had. I hope you enjoyed it, because you won’t be thinking much about sex after your sentence has been carried out.”

The guards turned as one and left the man alone in the room, securely strapped to the chair. He looked around, struggled against the restraints, giving up after a while, and relaxed, waiting.

The door opened. Two women walked briskly in. The taller, a green-eyed redhead was wearing a surgical mask. The shorter, a heavy-breasted brunette was carrying a large case. The redhead was obviously in charge.

“Prisoner six seven two, we are the medical technicians who will carry out your sentence. First we will prepare you for processing. Next, an officer of the court will read you a list of your crimes and the sentence the court has passed upon you. We will begin now.”

The prisoner smiled. “You broads look pretty good to me. You, reds, have great tits and one hell of a sexy butt. Brownie there has some huge rack on her. If I was loose, I’d tear off a piece of each of you.”

The redhead said nothing. Nodding to the brunette, she said “Antiseptic.”

The brunette handed her a pump container of soap. The redhead pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and began applying green liquid soap to the prisoner’s ball sack.

“Oh, baby that feels soooo good!” said the prisoner. He was starting to get excited – his prick was already half way erect.

“Cap”, Reds said to her assistant. The brunette handed her what looked sort of like a condom. It had a reservoir tip and got narrower toward the other end. There were two straps hanging from the back end.

“He may spurt and I don’t want his damned spunk on me,” Reds said. Expertly, she placed the cap over the end of the prisoner’s penis, pointed it up toward his face, rolled the rubber down several inches over his penis, cinched the straps tightly around the base, peeled off the coverings and pressed the adhesive ends against the sides of his abdomen. His penis was now covered by the cap and pointing up toward the prisoner’s face.

“Now if he gets harder, the head of his penis will press against the sharp points on the inside of the cap. It will hurt like hell and he’ll lose his hard-on. No hard-on, no disgusting spurts.”

Two young female technicians wheeled in a machine.

“Put it over there just to his right,” Reds ordered.

The machine had a digital readout and tubes with hypodermic ends. The brunette swabbed the prisoner’s arms at the elbows with antiseptic, and then inserted one needle into each arm.

Reds looked at him. “This is to purify your blood, six seven two,” she said. It goes out through the tube connected to your left arm, passes through the machine and then is reintroduced into your right arm through the tube in it. The machine’s readout gives the testosterone level in your blood as a percentage of the normal level. The machine continues purifying until the readout shows zero: No testosterone. At that point, you’ll have been purified. Before we begin to purify your blood, however, we have to remove the source of the hormone that’s poisoning you.”

“Poisoning me? The hell you say. That’s what makes me a man!” yelled the prisoner.

Reds continued washing his ball sack without comment. The brunette added some more restraints to the prisoner’s arms to keep them completely immobilized. Reds dried off his sack and painted it with antiseptic solution.

“He’s prepped,” Reds said. “Get the court clerk to read the sentence.”

The brunette opened the door.

“We’re ready for you,” she said to the clerk, who was standing immediately outside the door.

The clerk walked in, carrying a clipboard with a thin sheaf of papers. Immediately he began to read.

“Prisoner number six seven two, you have been convicted of multiple sexual crimes, specifically forcing, at different times, five unwilling females to perform sex acts with you. After medical examination, the court determined that you are mentally unable to handle the level of testosterone produced by your glands. It is therefore the sentence of the court that your glands be removed, that all testosterone be removed from your system, and that further you shall have a source of female hormones implanted to feminize you.”

Having read the sentence, the clerk turned and left.

“Well, let’s get it done,” Reds said.

The brunette looked at a checklist. “He’s capped, cleaned and hooked up to the machine. Let’s do the cut.”

“No numbing for this bastard,” Reds said, grinning.

“How many is this for you?” the brunette asked.

Reds, picking up a pair of surgical shears, thought for a moment. “This will be pair one thousand and twelve,” she said, positioning the shears for a cut that would bisect the prisoner’s scrotum. With thumb and forefinger, one on each side of the blade, she pushed the prisoner’s balls down so that his scrotal sack was stretched tightly over the blade. She made the cut swiftly and surely, cutting his sack in half with one stroke. The prisoner screamed with pain.

“Hurt, didn’t it?” she said. She pulled the two halves of the sack away from his balls so that his male organs dangled free. She clamped the cords individually with hemostats. Turning to the brunette, she said “They’re clamped off now, so we can start the machine.”

“Roger,” said the brunette, switching on the machine. Blood began to flow into the reservoir and after a short time, the LED display lit up with the number 350. Reds scratched her head. “Wow,” she said, “No wonder he’s crazed – he’s got 3.5 times the normal level of testosterone in his system. How long does it take to bring that high a level down to zero?”

The brunette checked a chart on the side of the machine, which whirred quietly, doing its job.

“He’s at the top of the chart. According to this, it will take six full passes of his blood through the system to clear out the testosterone.”

“Yes, but how long?” asked Reds.

“About half an hour,” the brunette answered.

“Well, that gives us plenty of time to install the implants.”

The prisoner was quiet. His naked balls dangled down with the hemostats clamping the cords. Reds picked up a scalpel and sliced through one cord and then the other, catching his severed manhood in her left hand. The prisoner cried out at each cut, then lay silently.

“Hand me an implant, please,” Reds asked.

The brunette handed her a white egg with two tubes sticking out of the end. Reds took it and very carefully dissected the one cord to separate the artery from the vein. Then she inserted the vein into the one tube and the artery into the other. She applied a liquid sealant where the vessels entered their tubes.

“That one’s done. Now I’ll test it.”

She released the clamp on the cord, watching for leaks. There were none. The white egg turned pink with suffused blood from the artery, then the vein swelled slightly as blood began to return to the body through it. Reds applied the clamp again. She performed the procedure again on the other cord. After she was done, she smiled at the prisoner.

“There, prisoner six seven two. Now you are purified. I hope you like your new balls. They will keep the female hormone level in your blood at about twice the level normal for a young woman for the next twenty years. Then you’ll come back to have them replaced.”

After removing the hemostats from his cords, Reds carefully stitched the prisoner’s ball sack up around his new implants.

The machine whirred. Now the LED read 225. Reds and the brunette sat back and waited. The number kept dropping – 200, 175, 125, 75, 50, 25, and finally 0. No testosterone remained in the prisoner’s system.

“OK, you can disconnect him now. He’s pure as the driven snow.” Reds said to her assistant, who began disconnecting the tubes from the prisoner’s arms. The brunette patched up the small holes the needles had made and applied a pressure bandage to each arm.

“Can’t have him bleeding out,” she said.

Reds smiled. “Now to solve his last problem,” she said.

“What else are you going to do to me?” asked the prisoner, who sounded resigned to his fate.

Reds didn’t answer; she just removed the cap from his softened penis. “Hand me the probe, please,” she said to the brunette. The probe was long, thin, flexible and metallic. She inserted it into the prisoner’s penis and worked it down into his body.

“Scanner, please,” she said.

The brunette wheeled a portable ultrasound scanner over to the prisoner. Reds applied some gel to the prisoner’s abdomen and put the scanner over the base of his penis. Looking at the image on the scanner screen, she maneuvered the tip of the probe into the prisoner’s prostate gland.

“Turn it on, please,” she said.

The brunette plugged the probe into another machine and turned it on. There was a faint hum. After two minutes, Reds asked her to turn it off.

“To answer your question, prisoner six seven two, I have just irradiated the tissue of your prostate gland, killing all of it. Over the next few weeks, it will be reabsorbed into your body. You will never have another erection. You will also never suffer cancer of your prostate because you don’t have one. For you, the good news is that your sentence has now been completely carried out. The guards will escort you to your cell. You will be released from here within twenty-four hours.”

The prisoner still looked like a normal male. Over the next few months, his feminization would cause breasts to grow and the distribution of his body fat to change. His criminal urges to take females by force would also disappear, enabling him to function normally in society.