Russia 3

The scalpel penetrated the skin easily, veins and the underlying muscle alike parted under the razor-sharp blade. Tiny rivulets of blood ran from the open dermal layer. George pulled the skin up the shaft, pinning the excess into the fleshy tube causing a small trickle to run down the organ. Sergei handed George a cloth to wipe up the blood. Examining the cord tied around the base of the penis and ensuring himself that it was tight, he inserted the scalpel further into the organ, severing different layers of erectile tissue and the inner arteries. With no medical degree, George had none-the-less, developed an impressive command of de-manning young men through practice. He then cauterized the open tissue with a surgical cauterizing implement and sewed the excess skin over the ragged end of the cock, using the stitches to hold open the urethra. He then inserted a catheter into Demitri’s bladder—the bag filling with the blood stained liquid almost immediately. He stood back and admired his handiwork and left the boy to recover and to allow himself to jerkoff.

* * *

Demitri awoke to a thought-deadening headache and a searing pain in his crotch. He tried to look down, but his head was secured to the table—the same one on which he had lost his virginity the day before. “Hello,” he called out to the empty room. All he heard was his echo and he sobbed convinced he would die.

* * *

George had masturbated 4 times the night before thinking about the young man losing both his virginity and his cock on the same night. He had felt almost raw when he did finally doze off. The alarm next to his bed was ringing, however, meaning that Demitri was awake, calling him out of his dream. He swung his feet out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Dr. Townsend entered the medical suite wearing a shirt and tie, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. “I see you are up. How are you feeling?”

Demitri in tears exclaimed, “My crotch hurts a lot! I think something is wrong!”

“Well let’s see,” he said, putting his cup down on the table next to his patient’s leg. He proceeded to remove the gauze covering the wounded crotch. The swelling was significant and the skin was deeply bruised, but there was no sign of internal bleeding. “No, it looks like everything is OK.”

“What happened to me?” the perplexed boy asked.

“Just a small experiment. I’m sorry that it hurts—Dagmar was your payment for the pain. Was it worth it?” He watched as the tiny nub remaining inflated with blood and the boy’s face contorted into a mask of pain. Yet, despite the pain, the amazing feeling of Dagmar on his cock was worth the pain and he smiled and tried to nod, despite the strap immobilizing his head.

“Well I will let you rest. I will be back later.” He checked the IV drip, picked up his coffee and left the boy alone with his pain.

* * *

George entered the room of the sleeping twelve-year-old. His young features disguised his rampant sexual desires; the boy had discovered masturbation only a week before being brought to the facility by Mr. Townsend’s roving van in Moscow. The now fully fed and washed street urchin had adapted well to the clean environment of the barn. His blond hair and smooth skin shone on the pillow. He was so beautiful George almost regretted what he was about to do to the little boy.

Sergei entered the room and shut the door behind him. As usual, Sergei took the arms of the boy while George handcuffed the boy’s legs to the foot of the bed. The boy, named Andrei, was just coming around when he realized he had been stripped naked and was being fastened to the foot of the bed. Andrei attempted to break away from the ex-military Sergei holding his arms to no effect.

“Good morning, little one. I trust you slept well.” George paused as if expecting an answer. “We have a few experiments to run this morning. But first, you need to play with yourself.”

Andrei blushed at the mention of his personal pastime, but despite his embarrassment, his fear of displeasing the man who had saved him from starvation compelled him to grab hold of his rapidly hardening, yet still tiny member, and begin his morning penile workout. George watched as the engorged, almost man-sized balls jumped at the boy’s pumps in their hairless sack. George had always been fascinated by boys at the stage when their balls were growing, but their cocks were still tiny, as Andrei was. It only took a few minutes for the boy to shoot his seed from his small penis, the remains of the thin, clear liquid landing on the sheets of his bed.

George reached down and cupped the sack in his hand as Andrei still pumped slowly on his engorged member, eking out the last of the pleasure from his penis. “You liked that didn’t you?” George asked.

“It’s the best,” the boy responded truthfully.

“I’m sure it was.” With that, his fist clenched squeezing the precious orbs in his strong grip. Andrei cried out in pain, his eyes tearing and emitting a girlish wail. George changed his grip, placing all the force on just one testicle. Almost instantly, the immature gland exploded like a grape in his strong fist.

The boy doubled over, a large wad of clear cum shooting from his dick again, and vomited between his own legs. His cries were mixed with his gagging on his own bile. George gripped the boy by his arms and pulled him off the bed; he landed on his hands, his feet still attached to the bed. Then he violently pulled the sack away from Andrei feeling the mashed testicle run between his tightening fingers. The boy retched as his ruined testicle was mashed further and his good testicle was pulled away from him. George squeezed as hard as he could, feeling the ball deflate; Andrei screamed, “Stop!” His ball exploded, the entire sack filled with a mushy, gooey paste. The boy collapsed on the floor unconscious. “Get rid of him.”