Ayzintion City--The Cutting of a Slave

Ayzintion City--The Cutting of a Slave

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.

The Hungarian boy was a slave. He had been captured during the war in the north country at thirteen, and had been whipped and herded and bought and sold so many times he had lost count. He hated being a slave, and he hated being worked. But he wasn’t stupid either, and he had come to learn a few lessons along the way. One of them was to outwardly obey his master without question, and immediately, otherwise there was a whip waiting. He had also learned not to speak unless he was spoken to. He had been whipped a number of times, and he had been swatted with a board more than that, literally paddled until his ass had glowed cherry red. Yet, even with all the whippings and all the paddlings, they had still failed to break him. He had a spirit about him, and now, in his sixteenth year, he was strong and powerful and even his stomach muscles ripped across his middle, tight and firm and hard. He never gave up trying to escape, and he had recently scared his owner when he had fought back with a guard.

His last master had purchased him to work the fields, and under the lash he had been a hard worker, although not a willing one. He had tried to escape three times, and had been punished for each attempt. He required constant watching. As his hard body had filled out, finally his owner had grown tired of his antics. His last straw had been when he had tried to fuck one of the housemaids, and he had almost been successful until the owner’s son had walked in on them just before he had penetrated her. He had received the whip for that episode, and even as he was taking it his lust for the girl had never wavered and his prick had remained rock hard through his entire punishment. And so, once again he had found himself in Ayzinton City, where the big slave market was, and almost before he knew it he had been placed on the block and sold early, going for the bargain cost of just 30,000 Degos. He would have brought a higher price, but the marks on his still red ass were indicative of a spirited slave, and that was something most owners didn’t want to take on. He didn’t know much about his new owner, but he had overheard that he had been purchased by a businessmen from the Eastern Province. His buyer was a little man in a white hat, and, unknown to the Hungarian boy, he was a man who had some knowledge in dealing with strong willed slaves, and also one who had little interest for raising crops.

As the Hungarian boy stood waiting, his hands tied firmly behind his back, the loose end of the rope clipped to the hitching posts, he could go nowhere. He knew he had been purchased, and he wondered what his new master from the Eastern Province would be like. His eyes sparkled his defiance; his hair, jet black and thick, lay disheveled and loose and was draped down his neck. Naked, and tied out in the open, he was visible to everyone, the traders, the purchasers, and the street urchins. There were few woman in the streets of the market, but of the ones that passed he met their gaze and each time his cock would twitch a little. He smelled of sweat. Deep. Pungent. It had been many weeks since his last bath. He was embarrassed to be naked, but then he wasn’t the only one and so that helped. He wasn’t trying to hide himself, and couldn’t have, even if he had wanted. It didn’t matter which way he turned, for the market square was crowded and no matter which way he faced he faced someone. There were slaves everywhere, most tied to wooden posts just like himself, and none of them were dressed in anything either. Having just been sold, he was tied in the section of the marketplace where the new owners would come to claim their property. Across the square other slaves were waiting for their turn at the auction block and for some buyer to purchase them. He had already had his distribution injection and vaccinations, and along with about thirty other slaves who had been sold during the first round he was waiting for his new master.

He had the perfect body of the developing adolescent. His smooth chest was expanding, his nipples small and pointed, the jet black hairs of his manhood sprouting around his root, and a small thin line of still blondish fuzz crawling up his belly toward his navel. His dick was long, and hung down with a thickness that is typical of a teenage male, the balls hanging below it with a look of maturity, almost like plums, weighted and hanging under the heat of the hot sun. His legs had the black hair of a man, his armpits, sweating under the heat, carried the thick patch of hair typical of a sixteen year old male. His eyes darted around the square, looking for any opportunity for escape and analyzing everything and everyone.

Suddenly, a group of men approached him, with a teenage girl approximately his age at their side. He recognized the man with the white hat as the man that had bought him. He had watched him make the bids at the auction, and it was clear he was willing to spend the money to get him. As the slave watched, the men stared at him, and he tried to decipher their looks and began to wonder of his fate. His eyes went automatically to the girl; his age, or close, her skin was fair, as fine as any he had ever seen. Her face was more beautiful than any girl he had ever laid his eyes on, and as he was staring at her she looked at him, meeting his gaze, and then she smiled! She wore no collar and she was dressed far to fine to be a slave. Who was she then, and what was she here for? The man’s daughter perhaps? He had many questions racing in his mind. Would they ship him out now? How far would he travel, and by what means? Would the man have him whipped? Would he breed him...when? Not to her certainly, although his cock twitched slightly at that thought and he immediately dismissed it. He looked away from her then, knowing that if his prick should rise with the owner standing there then he would have consequences to face. He turned his attention from her.

Instead, he concentrated on the men and tried to figure out who they were. The guy in the white hat was obviously his new owner, or a representative for him. That much was for certain. He looked like a man of power, and he definitely didn’t seem to have the build of a farmer. What did he do? The other man, the man in the black pants and the crisp white shirt, he was of East European descent and appeared to be connected somehow with the auction. The other two men appeared to be slaves, like him, and wore the same metal collar around his neck that he had been fitted with since he was first captured at thirteen. They were big men, and their muscles were powerful. He assumed they were bodyguards, and they clearly worked for the man with the white hat. They group had stopped a ways from him, and as hard as he could he still couldn’t quite make out the conversation, although he surmised it was about him.

“Ah, señor, he is a fine specimen---you have done well.”

“Yes Carlos...I like him. Your boss made good money on the sale though, and you and I both know it. This boy is a wild one, and I know something of his background. I deserve a break on the cutting. How much to cut him?”

“A good cutting is not cheap Señor. You know it can double the price of a slave. But for you I will make a special deal. He should cut easy and well. Surgical cuttings are 30,000. You could get by cheaper; sack strangulations are just 20,000. For you, my friend, 20,000 Degos for either, or if you want the sack gone and the boy smooth, then 25,000 Degos for a first rate job. If you want pain killers, they add just 500. When do you want it done?

I want him done now, before I take him from the market. He’s full of fight right now, and I don’t want him coming home where my daughters are if he has balls. I’ll pay 15,000, and I want him cut and I want you to do it—not one of your goons. The sooner we clip him the better. Can you do him now?

Yes Senior, I will do him immediately if it is what you want. Strangulation is easier and will hurt him less. If we strangulate, it will take a day to kill them, and another 10 days to two weeks for them to fall off. If we cut, he could travel in 3 or 4 days time, but 7 days would be better. It doesn’t matter to me. For 20,000 I’ll cut him for you.

Fine. 15,000 though. I’ve bought a lot of slaves from here. And I don’t care how you do it exactly, as long as you cut him. I want him smooth when it’s all over, so take his sack too. And, except for the cutting table, make sure he stays virgin, and I will pick him up when he has healed. Call me when it is done.

All right señor. You drive a hard bargain. For you I will do it for 15,000 Degos. What about the pain killer, do you wish to purchase his relief? It’s only 500 more.

No. God no. That defeats the purpose. Make sure he feels it no matter how you do it--I want him to know what it is he is losing so he won’t forget. I want his spirit broken when you take his balls.

Yes Señor. We will do him within the hour, as soon as the table is prepared and he has been cleaned. For you I will tie his balls, cut them, and let the sack shrivel from the gutstring. That’s the fastest way with the cleanest results.

The teenage boy was straining to hear the conversation, but he couldn’t make out anything they were saying. His eyes went back to the girl, and she was staring at him, interested in him, smiling as she half listened to her father discuss the fate of the boy she was watching. He was staring at her, and as he gazed he noticed her tits were well developed, and she was the most beautiful teenage girl he had ever seen. His dick started to thicken, and he quickly looked back at the men that were still talking.

“OK. But I don’t want to wait for his sack to rot off. Take it with the knife when you take his balls.”

“Alright senior. I will tie his balls, and then slice his balls from his body with a single cut. If that’s the way you want it that’s the way it will be done. Or do you want me to take his balls out first, before I slice off his sack?”

The man with the hat stared at the Hungarian teen, then looked down at his daughter. He noticed she was staring at the boy, her eyes resting on his cock. He frowned, noticing the boys dick had grown thicker from her stare and had moved out slightly from his body. Then, to his daughter he suddenly asked: “What do you think, quick and easy with a single slice, or take them out first so he really feels it?”

The girl, her eyes bright with an eagerness that spotlighted her beauty, jumped at the question. Then, looking up at her father, she said “I am only a woman father, but if your goal is to break his spirit then I would think it should not be too quick or too easy for him.”

The father, looking at his daughter and letting her thoughts sink in, then looked at her as a smile slowly crept across his face. Then, turning to the cutter, he said “OK, just do him. Let the boy feel his castration and don’t make it too fast for him. But make sure you do a good job, and make sure he knows what he’s losing.”

“Fine señor. I will cut him for you, and he will know it when its done. Do you want to watch?

No, hell no, I don’t need to see that. But my youngest daughter here wants to watch, and I will send her with you now. Call me then when he is healed and can travel...and be careful because I don’t want my slave sick and infected.

Senior, my skills are known to you--I will not let you down.

Then, with a nod, the man in the white hat walked away. As he did so, the man in the black pants, the man known for his skills in the cutting of slaves, turned to the two huge slaves beside him and said “Prepare him, and I will be there shortly.”

The Hungarian boy had missed all of the conversation, but he was aware that something had been decided concerning him. The girl had blushed red when her father had spoken to her, but then she had answered him and looked back at him with renewed interest. Did she like him? Or was it more the interest that an owner would have in a piece of livestock? He wondered. He had been bought and sold before, and he assumed they had been discussing his processing fees and the transport to his new home. Sometimes the owners just took him, but sometimes he was crated and transported in a cage. He wondered how it would go this time.

Suddenly, he was unhooked from the pole, and then the two big slaves started half walking half dragging him down an alleyway. He looked over his shoulder at the man in the white shirt and black pants, as he and the girl turned and existed out of a side door. Before he even knew what was happening, he was pulled through a door into what appeared to be a large tiled room, with a hose curled up and snaked across the floor and a large drain in the center. In the middle of the room were two women, dressed in the same black pants and white shirt as the man who had been discussing him a few minutes ago. He figured that they, like the man, were employees of the slave trader. He looked at the slave nearest to him, the one clutching his right arm, and said “Hey, what’s happening here...what are you going to do to me?”

The biggest of the slaves answered “Shut up and do not talk---you are to be cleaned. If you insist on talking you will be gagged. This is for your own good, so accept it.”

Then, his right ankle was connected to an iron ring on the floor. Then, as he was forced to spread his legs, his left was similarly secured to another ring that was there for this purpose. His hands were untied then. They were then retied in front of him, and the rope was tossed over a beam in the ceiling. Then, the biggest slave pulled the rope taught, stretching his arms up and over his head, exposing his sweaty armpits to everyone in the room. With his arms over his head and his feet tied to the floor, he could do nothing but watch what was done to him. He could smell his own stench. Then, someone turned on the water and the hose came to life, and as he stood in the middle of the room unable to move one of the women began to soak him, the ice cold water splashing into him with tremendous force as the stream from the hose was directed over him. The water slammed into him, onto his stomach, his chest, his face, and up and down his legs. The woman who was working the hose then worked her way behind him and directed the stream directly at his ass, working the hose closer and closer to him, the stream pulsated itself against his hole. The water was then shut off, and the two slaves starting soaping him down. They scrubbed him with a brush, its course bristles turning his skin red as they worked the soap into him. Up and down his legs, over his ass, and up and along the crack. One of the women soaped up his dick with her hands and worked the leather into his balls, the boy’s cock growing stiff with the attention and his face flushing red from the embarrassment. The soap was worked into his hair, over his face, his ears, back, and chest. His armpits were scrubbed hard. His eyes stung from the lye soap as if they were on fire. He felt something being forced up his asshole, a tube actually, and then warm soapy water was flowing into his rectum and as he felt his guts filling he struggled and protested. Then, the tube was removed, and his ass opened up on its own and he was unable to stop it. Then, the water was then turned back on and the hose stream was again directed over him, rinsing him, even as he continued to evacuate his insides and literally pour shit onto the floor. The water stream relentlessly washed him, and everything went down the drain. Again the hose was turned off, and again he was soaped and scrubbed. Even his fingernails and toes were scrubbed on the second washing, and then scrubbed again, until he was so clean that he tingled everywhere. The soap was allowed to sit on him for several minutes, making sure he was cleaner than clean. Then he was rinsed again. Next, the two women approached him with scissors, and as one girl began to trim his hair, neatly around his ears, clipping and combing the unkempt mane until it was neat and tidy and short, the other girl worked the scissors over the hair in his armpits, trimming them into small round little patches, each perfectly manicured and the hair short and neat. As he watched, he jerked against the restraints as she worked the scissors through the mound of hair over his dick, shortening it up until it was around 1/4 inch in length. Neatly trimmed, the little patch gave him a more youthful appearance even as his prick erected hard and stiff from the attention and sprang upward out of the bush like a small tree juts from the grass.

Finally, they were done. He was cleaner than he could ever remember being in his entire life. His bath had taken most of an hour, and he was cold from it but he felt refreshed at the same time. His ankles were unshackled, and the rope was pulled back over the beam, and with his two wrists still tied together he was led down another hallway and into a different, somewhat larger room. As he entered the room the boy could see that a crowd was gathering, and as he glanced around he saw the man with the black pants working something into a grinding wheel, the sparks flying. Next to him was the girl. The man turned, their eyes meeting, and then the man looked back to the wheel and the boy could see more sparks coming from the wheel as he appeared to be working a small knife against it. Then, as he looked into the middle of the room, the crowd began to part, making room for him, and as they did so his eyes fell upon the table he was being pulled towards. As soon as he saw it he made the connection....the gathering crowd, the table, the straps on its corners, and the man sharpening his knife! Suddenly, he screamed “NO...GOD...NO” and then he spun around, trying to run, just as the two big slaves at his sides grabbed his arms and began to drag forcefully toward the gelding table.

The table had been specially built, and the geldings were all done in this room. The table wasn’t flat on top like an eating table. No, instead it was hinged in the middle, so that the middle half of the table was higher than the end. At the front, the edge was about three feet off the floor, with two leather straps spread wide apart with buckles waiting to restrain the ankles of the unlucky boy who would be strapped into it. From that end it rose higher, sloping up for several more feet, where it peaked, like the top of a house, and then became flat across the back half of the table. At the opposite end of the table from the ankle straps were more leather straps, designed to hold the wrists of the person strapped to it. There was a padded headrest there as well, to prop the head up so that the person strapped down could watch what was done to him. The entire table was designed for just one purpose---to expose the genitals of the male being gelded and to restrain him in such a way that he could do nothing to stop it. His feet were held lower than his body, keeping his legs down and spread wide apart, and his balls actually would dangle as his feet dropped away from the upper portion of the table. In effect, the table forced the individual tied onto it to literally jut his balls up into the air, the hinge of the table directly under the place where his buttocks would rest. To keep him from sliding around, and to make sure his genitals were held still for their cutting, there was a round wooden dowel approximately 1 inch in diameter, and almost nine inches long coming out of the middle of the table. The dowel was sanded smooth and the end was rounded and covered in grease, and it was designed so it would fit into the rectum of the unlucky individual strapped over the table. The long dowel kept the tied up boy from moving from side to side, and while it was still possible to jerk the hips up and down to the extent the bonds holding his feet and hands would allow, nevertheless with the wooden rod penetrating into his guts most boys fastened to the gelding table found out soon enough that any movements were just wasted efforts. The rod had another, more sinister purpose. As it penetrated the male, it usually forced an erection, which in turn kept the boy’s cock up and out of the way from his balls, thereby facilitating his gelding.

Along the sides of the table were viewing stands, which could accommodate a crowd of up to thirty on each side. The room was packed now. There is something about a gelding that draws a crowd. The little street urchins loved to watch, and a strong teenage lad like this one held a special interest. There were several eunuch slaves there as well, as most slaves that have lost their balls take a keen interest when another is gelded. In fact, most whole men also enjoy watching a nutting---as long as it is someone else who is the one being cut. The room was designed to accommodate this desire, and had skylights that were bright so to keep everything visible. Already, the crowd was stirring and was eager with anticipation.

As the Hungarian teenager struggled, desperate to get away, he was dragged to the table, then forced over until he was on his back and then he was worked to the table. His dick was still semi hard, and he was embarrassed and afraid and in fact was more scared than he had ever been in his life. The crowd cheered his arrival, and as he saw them he went white with fear. He fought like a madman, realizing what was planned, and he struggled knowing his manhood was at stake and he fought like there was no tomorrow. The big slaves fought hard to secure him--the tricky part was getting him positioned so that the thick wooden dowel was against his asshole. His legs had to be pulled up over his head as he was positioned, but finally he was in place and as they pushed him down onto it the greased wooden shaft pushed up against the ring of his anus. He tried to shut it out, but slowly they applied more pressure, and then suddenly, it popped past his sphincter opening, and as it did so he gasped as it slid into him, and then he grunted as his own weight shoved it up inside him so far that his own prostate was pressed into it. As it did so his faced flushed from the humiliation, his prick growing rock hard from the pressure and the crowd turning giddy from the sight. Almost within seconds his cock was stretched out like a steel rod, thick and hard, and as the wooden dowel inside pressed against his prostate fluid appeared on the tip of his dick and his big teenage rod-head flared wide and purple as if it had some unknown desire. His ankles were quickly secured, and then his wrists, until he was spread eagled, his balls hanging down and the boys face, the look of total fear in his eyes, face up and resting on the padded headrest, staring at the crowd and back down at his own genitals.

The boy fought against the bonds that secured him, which added to the thrill for the crowd. His hard body pulled against the restraints, and he jerked and struggled and screamed for mercy. “Oh God....pleaseeeee......don’t do this....don’t do it...please...I wont run away again..Please....please have mercy; ...I’ll do a good job....I’ll work the fields hard...please.....oh..someone help me PLEASEEEEEE!!!” As he struggled, the boy felt the wooden pole he was impaled on, and as his hips rocked in his struggles the movement forced his ass to move up and down over the pole, almost like it was being thrust in and out of his hole by some outside force. He felt so violated, and as the crowd of men and boys strained for a closer look, the tip of his dick bounced to his heartbeat and his seminal fluid was oozing out his slit, and glistening from its single eye.

Just then, the cutter approached the table, his creased white shirt and black pants giving him the impression of a professional. He was well known for his skills in the nutting of slaves, and he proceeded to work slowly and methodically, knowing exactly what he was doing. He had the daughter of the owner at his side, and she was carrying a small pot of charcoal that was glowing red hot. In her other hand she held a small silver bowl, filled with salted water. It was designed to hold the balls of the boy once he had been cut, but right now it contained a leather gutstring soaking in the liquid. As they approached the boy, moving up to the edge of the table and between his wide spread legs, the boy was staring right at them and as he watched them approach he started begging again.

“Oh GOD Sir...please SIR....please...don’t...don’t do this SIR. I’ll be good...you don’t have to do this....Please sir....PLEASEEEEEEEE. Oh God!

Seeing his hard face, the boy realized he was getting nowhere. In desperation, he looked at the girl, and then for the first time spoke to her: “Please...tell them...save me...I’ll do anything, anything for you...please...pleaseeeeeee.”

The man then looked to one of his big slave helpers, and simply said “Gag the boy.”

As the boy was still struggling and yelling and begging, it was an easy task to shove a piece of white linen into his mouth....filling it with the cloth. A chord was then tied around his head and across his mouth, securing the rag inside. The boy continued to scream and call out, but only a muffled cry escaped and his words were no longer intelligible. Nevertheless, as the young girl and the cutter were standing between the boys widely splayed legs, his eyes were wide with fear and he increased his struggles, his hips thrusting as if desperate to get away. His motions caused the big wooden dowel to slide in and out of his ass. In a way, his motions resulted in him giving the appearance that he was trying to fuck his own ass and that was not lost on the crowd.

Carefully, the cutter dropped a small steel tool into the hot pot of glowing charcoal. It was built like a butter knife, with a small flat blade and sides that were more rounded than sharp. It had a thick wooden handle, and was used to cauterize the wound he would be making. He placed the pot directly between the boy’s legs, and the heat from the pot warmed his balls and as it did so his big sack began to sag. The cutter liked to take his time...the crowd appreciated it, and it gave the slave more time to accept his fate. The new owner had wanted him to “feel it” and he wanted to make sure his spirit would be broken. As the cutter gazed at the struggling teenager, thrusting wildly and beginning to pour sweat from his desperation, he smiled. Sometimes it seemed a shame to break them, to steal their manhood and to leave them empty. This one would have been a fine breeder, but it wasn’t his choice to make, and if the owner wanted to pay 15,000 Degos to nut him, then he would nut him. It didn’t matter to him at all.

The crowd was excited. Everyone was watching, and many were eager to see the boy’s balls come out. The Hungarian boy picked up on the mood of the crowd, and his faced flushed with the embarrassment of his exposure and the realization they were all eager to watch him be unmanned. The girl, his age even, standing there beside the man and between his legs added immensely to his misery, and as he looked past his erection and at her his faced flushed crimson with his embarrassment. He closed his eyes in shame, but the sounds of the crowd filled his ears and the humiliation of what was being done was almost as bad as what he knew was going to happen.

The man in the white shirt then took the leather gutstring out of the small bowl of brine water that was soaking beside the bed of coals. In a short time the wet salted leather would dry, and as it did it would shrink drastically. He quickly formed a loop, and then tied a cinch knot. This formed a castration noose---a noose that could only tighten but could never be loosened. It was a knot he had learned a long time ago, a knot of his trade, and it worked extraordinarily well. Then, almost moving in slow motion, he took the slaves balls in his left hand, and pulled down on them, stretching them in the process. The boy grunted into his gag, his balls warm and loose from the hot pot just inches away. His big sack was dangling like a bulls sack dangles and it was hot to the touch. As the teenager felt the man’s hand grip his balls, he struggled anew, thrusting and jerking and fighting to somehow someway, get loose. Next, the man slipped the wet leather noose over the boy’s nuts, then reached down again with his left hand and tugged again hard on the boys sack. The teenage boy thrusted and grunted harder, desperate to prevent what he could see happening. Then, making sure the leather chord was up tight and against the boy’s body, he looked to the owners daughter and said: “Here, now take the ends of the leather, and as I told you earlier, snap them hard and fast and tight. Go ahead, don’t be afraid...his stiff prick means he’s ready for it and its what your father wants.”

The fifteen year old girl stared at the boy in front of her. Never before had she seen a young male so close, and never before had she seen a man or a boy naked. The erection that the boy had absolutely fascinated her. It was huge, and she couldn’t help but notice the big bulging head and the way it glistened, its end wet with some unknown anticipation. The boy whose legs were spread wide was straining so hard, struggling, and as she stared at him her eyes watching his big ballsack hanging down and his prick so large and hard and stiff that she could hardly believe it. She looked at the man holding the gutstring, and he gave her a nod. Then, with a smile she took the ends of the wet leather from him. Then, looking the boy right in his eyes, she saw him look back at her in total desperation, his eyes begging her. She winked at him, and then she quickly pulled the leather ends as hard and as fast as she could, and the cinch knot slammed closed with a snap, constricting the boy’s balls with the action and instantaneously trapping them in their sack. The boy jerked and arched his back, screaming into the gag as he felt his balls being strangled by the leather chord that was so tight it felt like it was cutting into his sack. God it hurt! He bucked and jerked, desperate to escape. She giggled at his reaction, and she said “Guess he didn’t like that too much.” With her words, the entire crowd and the man roared with laughter.

The boy was wild then, testing his bonds and thrusting his hips in some desperate, primal urge to somehow get the string off his nuts. As he pumped his hips, the wooden dowel slid in and out of his asshole, and after a few minutes his struggles slowed, as he slowly came to realize that the pain, now growing by the minute deep within his balls, was not going to get any less no matter how hard he fought it.

The man then spoke his first words the boy: “Listen to me. If you keep struggling it will be worse for you. You can only be castrated once. Look around you. Everyone is having a good time. Act like a man, and not a boy. And get used to the rod in your ass. It will be the first of many. Try and enjoy the experience if you can.”

He thin picked up the thin gelding knife. As the boy saw it, his eyes went wild, and he began to trash out against his bonds, grunting and thrusting like he was being slaughtered. His stiff dick was flopping around, slapping his belly and then bouncing down from his gyrations. The man frowned, and then looking at the girl, said to her “Hold his cock.” She reached out without hesitation, and wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the boy’s flailing dick, steadying it. The boy immediately reacted, his eyes flaring wide open and he stared at the girl holding his cock. The man looked at her, and at the boy, and then said “Pump him if you want—he might enjoy that at least.” The crowd cheered as she held the boy. She blushed red, and held his dick steady and straight, not daring to even wiggle her hand. As she held him the man took the boys balls in his left hand, cradling them. They had already turned bright red from the effects of the gutstring, and if he just left them hanging there they would turn black and fall off on their own within a couple of weeks. Ah, a shame. He felt the boys sack, pulling down on the glands trapped there, and then he squeezed it slightly so as to push the left ball tight against the side. With his right hand, he took the tip of his knife, and pushed it up against the skin of his sack, resting it there just above the top of the boy’s ball. He hesitated then, and the crowd grew quiet and a stillness consumed the room. The boy tilted his head back as far as he could, and closed his eyes as he felt the tip of the knife.

Then, well then he ejaculated. The combination of the crowd watching, the wooden rod shoved into his prostate, the gutstring tied around his ballsack, the presence of a girl his own age holding his raging cock, were almost too much, and when you added the feel of the knife on his balls it had been more than he could handle. Without control, he began to ejaculate, pumping his jism from deep within him, the first line of cum shooting out so violently that it went several feet into the air before coming back down and landing with a splat under his chin. As he started shooting, the man pushed the knife into the boy’s sack, then drew it down with a well practiced, twisting motion, filleting the sack and making an opening through which his left testicle literally popped out, pressed out from the pressure of the man’s left hand as it squeezed the nutsack. At the same time, for whatever reason, the girl began to pump the boys penis. The boy’s pink left nut was pulsating in the air, timed to the ejaculations of the teenager. He grunted into his gag from the combined pleasure of his orgasm, the girl pumping his dick, and the pain from the knife. Then, the boy shut his eyes and screamed, a muffled scream but a scream nevertheless. It was the scream of a boy in pain. It was also a scream of pleasure from a man. It was his last ejaculation, and it was intense and long and violent, and the crowd loved it! Even as it was happening, the man reached down to the pot, and pulled out the glowing red cauterization knife. As the exposed ball was pulsing he touched the burning steel against the ball cord and with a wisp of smoke it snapped back into his body. As it did so, the man dropped the freed ball into the bowl of water and watched as its dying pulsations rippled the surface of the salted water.

It had happened so fast that the boy was still finishing his orgasm even after his left ball and been cut from him. He just kept shooting, and without doubt it was the most violent and intense orgasm of his entire life. The girl just kept pumping his dick, and as she did so he just kept ejaculating. He couldn’t help himself, and he had pumped out 5 lines of semen that were now covering his chest and stomach. The third line had hit his right nipple, and the forth had filled his navel. The crowd had gone crazy with an eagerness, and as he finally stopped shooting semen, he fell back against his restraints totally exhausted, a deep pain in his groin replacing all of the pleasure he had felt.

The man never slowed, never hurried either. He seemed totally unaffected by what was happening, and he had switched hands, holding the boys ballsack in his right hand, the fillet knife in his left. Part of his skill was his ability to work with either hand. Again, he pushed the tip of the knife into the boy’s ballsack, this time just above the right ball. The sack was slippery now, and while there wasn’t a lot of blood there was some and it made the job more difficult. The boy jerked again against his bonds, thrusting one more time up against his restraints and sliding his asshole up and down over the wooden pole attached to the table. He grunted as he felt the knife stroke, his dick spasmed again and a small drop of semen flushed out of the tip, just as the boy’s right and final ball popped out of his scrotum. Again, the man pulled the testicle out slightly, exposing the chord and stretching it out from his body. This time, he turned to the girl and said “Take the iron”.

The girl’s face flushed with a smile. She reached into the hot pot of coals and grabbed the red hot cauterization knife.

The man said “There, near his ballsack, touch the chord with the edge of the knife.”

The Hungarian teenager was staring right at her, watching the iron, watching his chord, looking at the little orb in the man’s hand and feeling the feeling that no male ever wants to feel.

Then, she touched the hot knife edge to his chord, and with a snap and a wisp of smoke the chord disappeared back into his body, and as it did so the boy dropped to the table, spent, humiliated, exhausted, and of course, castrated. No longer a man. A eunuch. Ballless. Suddenly, having just cum his last time and realizing what he had lost, he started to cry. The man then took the fillet knife, and hooked the curve of the blade against the gutstring that was still knotted where it entered his body. In his other hand he grasp the lose skin of the boy’s empty scrotum. Then, hooking the blade there around the skin, and with a single quick pull, he jerked the sharp knife through the boy’s scrotum and separated the loose skin from his body, leaving a small knot of flesh where the gutstring was still tied. As the boy felt the knife slice off his empty scrotum, he grunted, but other than that he didn’t move. He didn’t thrust upward, and except for the grunt the only way to know he was conscious was to watch his eyes, as the tears were running down from their corners. The man then took the cauterization knife, and laid it against the spot where the boy’s scrotum had been attached to his body for the past sixteen years. There was a little more smoke this time, and another final grunt from the boy. Then, it was done.

The boy, his chest and stomach still covered with the white streaks of his semen, was taken down, and dragged to a healing room. A clean mattress had been prepared, and two guards were at the door to both protect the virginity of the new eunuch as well as to keep him from attempting an escape. The latter was hardly necessary, as the fight was gone from the boy, never to return. With the loss of his balls, he had given in, and his spirit was no longer a part of him. Within a few days he would be taken to his new home in the Eastern Province, and he would learn to serve the master and his family. He would be treated well, and in some ways he would even prosper. He would learn to cook and to clean and do the house chores. And, sometimes, well, sometimes, he would also serve his master in other ways, and when those times would come, he would lay on chest with his knees in the air and his legs spread wide. And whenever that happened, he would grunt in shame.