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Joseph Gordon Smith seemed to have his shit together pretty well. He'd run the Starlight Trailer Park for ten years, ever since his dad had died. The old fucker'd been an alcoholic, and Gord had been doing all the real work since he was thirteen anyway, so when his dad finally kicked it, he'd just kept on running it. Gord seemed like an all-around nice guy to have around. He was cute, in good shape, a bit of a partier it seemed. He kept his hobby well-hidden from the denizens of the trailer park, however. Few of them knew that in his locked "liquor cabinet" he kept trophies from the men he'd cut. At first he just did balls, and just tossed them into a big jar. Later on he started numbering the jars and putting a Polaroid of the guy on it...sort of a memento. He'd started when he was sixteen, on some hobos he found in town. Quick whiff of the chloroform he'd swiped from the free clinic, and with some more supplies he finally did something he'd been thinking about for years, and castrated a man. Then another, and finally a third. He wasn't concerned about what they'd think when they awoke, and he never read anything about it on the news, so figured the cops didn't really follow up on it. Cutting a guy's nuts off was a rush like no other. That first time he jerked off thinking about it for six months before he met a guy who actually wanted it done, and since then he had mostly stuck to guys he found on the internet. Some of the best ones, though, were guys he talked into it. It happened every year or so. Some young hotshot would move into the trailer park, fuck his way through the hotties, and then at some point Gord would get him trashed on moonshine and talk the guy into letting Gord cut his nuts off. Afterward he would do such a number on their head about what would happen if they went to the cops that the guys usually just lived in fear of him for a month or two, then moved out. Sometimes it was some asshole who beat his wife, or his kid, and sometimes it was just because Gord wanted to cut his nuts off. So, when Seth moved into the neighborhood, Gord checked him out. Great body, nice looks. Had all his teeth. Gord gave it a week, but to his surprise nobody had gossipped about him being seen with any of the hot young things wandering about, no matter how much they strutted up to him as he worked at hooking his water pipe up, shirt off, sweating in the afternoon heat, and wiggled their asses at him. Gord just figured the guy was queer. He couldn't wait to cut him. "Yeah, sure," Seth replied when Gord invited him over for a few drinks on Friday. He showed up around nine in a skintight white t-shirt and a loose pair of cargo shorts with a backpack slung over his shoulder. Gord met him on the porch with a beer and the two sat for awhile and made small talk while they got their buzzes going. Gord actually enjoyed talking to this guy - he was smart and funny and seemed like a genuinely pretty cool dude. When it got dark they moved inside, and much as Gord liked this guy, it was time to take his nuts off. "So what's in that bottle?" Seth slurred a little as Gord dripped a bit of chloroform on a napkin, struggling to keep his head straight. "ss'chloroform. I gotta knock you out," Gord slurred a bit himself. "b'why?" Seth sounded amused. "So's I can cut your balls off," Gord giggled a little, and recapped the bottle. "No way!" Seth shouted, and grabbed his backpack. "I was gonna cut your balls off!" "Huh?" "I knew when I ran into Randy that there must be somebody else doin' it..." Seth ran his hand through his hair, his brain struggling to keep up. Gord knew Randy; he lived in 12A. Kind of a loser, worked in a factory. His balls were on the second shelf, third from the right. His was the third cock Gord had taken off, but he'd never come up with a good way to mount them or anything, and they always dissolved in the embalming fluid. "I got him good n' liquored up, get his pants down, and man, all the guy's got is a little tiny stub! 'bout shit my pants!" Seth laughed. "So...you like to, uh, cut guys, too?" Gord was a little slow just then. "Yeah! You keep 'em after you cut 'em?" Seth asked. "Yeah...here..." Gord got up and unlocked the cabinet. Seth just looked at it and smiled. "Nice," he muttered, his eyes panning the cabinet. "Yeah, I keep photos too." Seth turned to Gord and was momentarily blinded by the flash of the Polaroid. Seth took a step back and raised his hands. "Oh, no, you're not gettin' my nuts," he laughed. Gord rubbed the Polaroid on the kitchen tablecloth. "Awww, but I have to, man," Gord answered. "C'mon, don't up a fight." "Why shouldn't I take yours?" Seth shot back. Gord took another look at him, and suddenly felt a little afraid. Seth was a lot bigger than he was... "Hey, I got an idea," Gord answered, locking the cabinet back up. "We'll have a contest." "Huh?" Seth cocked his head. "Yeah. A contest. Say, one week. Each nut is a point. A cock is five. Whoever wins gets to cut the other guys' nuts off, no argument, no fighting, no revenge. How about that?" "No way! I don't know how to cut dicks off, man," Seth countered. "I'll show you. Drop your pants." "Uh-uh. No dicks. Otherwise...we got a deal," Seth offered his hand. Gord groaned. "Well...okay," he acquiesced, and shook Seth's hand. "When this is over you gotta teach me how to do it, though," Seth smirked. "All right," Gord relaxed. "It's ten to midnight. Contest starts in ten minutes. We meet here again at midnight next week." His cock got hard just thinking about it. "Aww, yeah," Seth smiled, noticing the lump in Gord's jeans. "Those nuts are gonna be mine!" Gord started that night. There was this kid about to join the Marines, fresh out of high school. Said he thought he was queer, wanted to discipline it out of him. Gord had had his eye on him for awhile now. By two in the morning the kid was on his way back to his trailer, a pair of stainless steel ball bearings - best he could do for fakes - weighing down his otherwise empty scrotum. Gord taped the Polaroid on the jar containing his first two points, and set it next to the empty jar with Seth's picture on it. "Soon," he thought to himself, and went to bed, trying to figure out the best way to collect as many testicles as possible. The next day, he drove by Seth's trailer on his way into town, but didn't see any lights on. He wondered how many Seth had. "So you're having a contest?" Jerry asked, as they got on the highway into town. Gord had cut Jerry years ago, by his request - he was a fetishist, and a good guy. He knew all about Gord's hobby, and had even tried to persuade him to let him tape the castrations, but Gord wouldn't let him - too dangerous, he figured. "Yeah," Gord nodded, fiddling with the radio. "Who gets the most balls in a week. I got two already. Figure if I make ten I'll beat his ass, then have those juicy balls in a jar on my shelf." "Hehe," Jerry laughed a little. "Too bad I ain't got nuthin' left to give." "That dick'll come off sooner or later, you watch," Gord joked, reaching over to grab Jerry's crotch. He couldn't feel much through the jeans. He'd seen Jerry's dick; the guy hadn't had a boner in three years. Fact was, there wasn't a whole lot there, anymore - without regular boners his dick'd shrunk up. "'sides, I can always hit up the hobos again if I get desperate." They drove along in silence for a few minutes. "You got the ruphies, right?" He got two guys out in the truck that night, with Jerry keeping watch. Two more jars for his shelf - pretty good for a Monday. He hit a town across the river on Tuesday, then took a break Wednesday. Gord peeled his shirt off, having taken the day off castrating random strangers to do some yard work. Now done, he popped open a beer and sat out on the porch, letting the cool evening breeze dry the sweat from his muscles. Two beers later, Jerry sidled up and helped himself to a seat and a frosty beer from the cooler. "So," he began, taking a swig. "I talked to Seth." "Really." Gord tried to sound disinterested. "What'd he have to say?" "He wanted to know how many you'd gotten so far," Jerry said. "Heh." Gord wanted to know how many Jerry had, too, but wanted to look cool. "What'd you say?" He'd put off asking, try to work it in... "Said you just had the two from that night, you were bein' overconfident." "Hah!" Gord guffawed. "Nice." "An' I found out how many he's got. Showed me his shelf. He was tryin' to get mine; didn't seem to realize there weren't none to be had, heh," Jerry snorted a bit and took another swig. "So how many's he got?" Gord came out and asked it. "You know that kid you been eyein' in 13D, older one with the blue eyes?" Jerry asked. "You can cross him off yer list." "Aw, shit. I was savin' that one 'til he got older!" Gord cursed. "Bastard." He couldn't really be that pissed; it was a job well-played - he'd tried to get the kid twice already, but it just made him more competitve. Well...he has a little brother, Gord thought. I'll give it a few years. "Yeah, and some random guy out at a truck stop. Seemed all relieved to be aheada' ya," Jerry belched as he finished the bottle. Gord eyed him as he helped himself to another out of the cooler, but Jerry pretended not to notice in the increasingly dim light. "So he's got four, huh?" Gord thought aloud. "That means I'm only two ahead." "Yeah?" Jerry said. "So what? You're ahead." "Dimwit," Gord slapped him on the back of the head. "If he goes out tonight he'll probably get at least one guy. We'll be tied then, or worse, behind!" Gord stood up. "I'm gonna take a shower. Get ready, we're goin' out tonight." "Aww, but Gord! We went out the other night! We'll get caught f'we go again so soon!" Jerry protested. "'sides, let's jes' drink beer. More fun 'nyway." Gord ignored him and stomped off into the house. They had work to do... He pulled his truck out onto the highway home at two in the morning. Jerry was passed out next to him, the black bag with Gord's tools in it between them. Under the seat he kept his box of jars, and tonight there were two full ones in his cup holders. He stole glances at them as he drove down the road, sloshing around a little bit in the embalming fluid. The Poloaroids were in the glove compartment; he didn't want to tape them on until he got home. He wasn't really drunk, but he was a little tipsy, and he might put 'em on crooked if he did it in the car. The gravel outside his trailer crunched as the truck pulled up. Gord just left Jerry in the truck and took the jars, photos, and his tools inside, stowed safely away. He had a cop follow him home once when he had a taillight out and the guy saw a pair of nuts out on the table. Gord told him he was an agriculture student and it was an aborted pig fetus to get the guy to leave. Gord knew he'd gotten lucky that time, and he didn't want to risk that kind of thing happening again. Once that was done, he went back outside to drag Jerry's limp body back into the house. Gord got him up on his shoulders in a fireman's carry and kicked the truck's door shut as headlights swung around the road. Gord turned to look, Jerry's body swinging in a broad arc. As the truck turned, Gord could see it was Seth pulling out, three guys asleep up front in the cab, their heads leaning against the windows. Seth gave him a little salute and drove on by. "Dammit!" Gord shouted the next day. "The fucker's tied me! He got three last night, at least! Shit, he may even be ahead!" Gord had gotten up at ten in the morning and made Jerry drag his ass off the couch. Jerry held a bag of ice to his head and moaned. Fresh from the shower, he was still wet and naked. He sat at a chair, his head down on the table, his head killing him. "So what? You've got until, what, midnight Friday night? That's two nights, more or less." "Yeah, two nights for the both of us. I'm not loosin' my balls to him!" Gord shouted again. "Aah!" Jerry moaned, covering his ears. "Why all the shoutin'? I'm right here. 'sides, loosin' yer nuts ain't so bad." "Huh. For you, maybe," Gord grunted. He hadn't bothered to dress since taking a shower either, and was making eggs and toast. He still had morning wood and it just wouldn't go away. Gord grabbed his cock and pumped it once or twice. "I don't want my dick to turn into...that," he gestured at Jerry's little hairless nubbin of a cock. "I'm takin' that off you. Really." Gord leaned across the counter and looked straight at Jerry, who peeked up over his hands. "Soon." "Yeah, whatever," Jerry waved dismissively. "I gotta beat this guy, and I've been gettin' lucky so far. I gotta figure out a way." He stirred the eggs, his own brain feeling a little fried. Some cop show came on the TV. "You could rat him out to the cops, heh," Jerry snorted, too hungover to really even laugh right. "Get him arrested 'r sumthin'." "Hey, that's an idea," Gord said, scooping the eggs out onto a pair of plates. "No, but if I sell him out, he'll just rat on me." "No, you gotta get him on somethin' else. Somethin' he won't know was you," Jerry picked at his toast and eggs. "Yeah...that's a good idea, nutless," Gord goaded. A knock came at the door. The two of them wrapped towels around themselves and Gord got up to answer it. "Whatever, Neanderthal," Jerry struggled to get the word out. "You better hope I don't decide t'help him out instead, ya know. 'os things just make ya stupid and angry a lot anyway." He pecked at his toast. "I ain't stupid!" Gord protested, opening the door to find a country sheriff and the eighteen-year-old from 17E. Gord got him drunk last week but didn't really go after his balls; it took too long to get the kid drunk, and there had been some show on TV he'd wanted to watch. "Mr. Smith?" the officer asked. "Yeah?" Gordon squinted in the bright sunlight. "Is that him?" the cop asked the kid. "Yeah," the kid answered. "Sir, I'm afraid you're under arrest for providing alcohol to a minor." "Huh?" Gord asked, but before he could react, the cop spun him around and slapped handcuffs on him. "You have the right to remain silent..." the cop started, ignoring Jerry. "Oh, come on! It was a couple of beers!" Jerry protested, the towel falling off. The cop ignored it and shoved a naked Jerry into the back of his squad car. He finished reading Gord his rights through the window and told the kid he could leave. The cop ignored Gord the entire way to the station. Once there, he paraded him in, butt-ass naked. Gord couldn't even cover himself with his hands cuffed behind his back. They didn't even stop to ask him any questions, but just marched him right back to the jail, past the leering glances and laughter, and pushed him into a cell. "Back up to the bars," the cop ordered him, and unlocked the handcuffs. "Come on, man, give me a towel or something! How long am I gonna be in here?" he pleaded. The cop smiled and scratched his moustache. "Well, lessee," the cop cocked his head. "It's eleven now, so I'm goin' off shift. That means you get carried over to the duty officer there. They'll have to transfer ya to the city jail for that, then bring you back over here later once that's done...now, since you never been to jail, we gotta do a medical checkup, make sure you ain't got nuthin' you can give t'th'other inmates...and since yer offense involves a minor, we gotta do all this extra paperwork. We should get ya arraigned by this evenin'." "Oh, this evening? It can't be any faster?" Gord pleaded. HIs balls were on the line here! "Aww, no, well, y'see, once you been arraigned, then you gotta get a trial date...that'll be tomorrow afternoon sometime. Now, this bein' a first offense and all, you'll probly just get some community service and time served. You'll probably be out, say, nine or ten tomorrow night." "What?!?" Gord's eyes grew wide. He thought he was going to faint. "Have a nice day, boy," the cop tipped his hat and strode on out, ignoring Gord's pleas for release. They gave him a prison jumpsuit when he went to court, but since he had no other clothing, when the cops released him they sent Gord out onto the street still wearing flourescent orange, and carrying a big knapsack. Jerry flashed his lights and started the truck. Gord climbed in and gratefully accepted the pair of jeans Jerry had brought. He pulled them on gingerly, his ass still sore from the multiple probings. "You okay?" Jerry asked. "You'd think once they see your cavities are all clear, they'd stop doing full cavity searches," Gord groaned, tugging the jeans up. He tried to fasten them and barely could...Jerry always brought his jeans up in the crotch. Gord just left them undone with his dick hanging out. "I see," Jerry said, and turned up the radio. "Well...you've got two hours," Jerry tried to cheer Gord up. "Where do you want to go?" "Home." Gord just stared out the window, feeling tired. "Home? You don't want to try and..." the bag Gord brought clinked. "What's in the bag?" Jerry asked. Gord unzipped it and held out a jar, not his usual brand, but taped to it was a Polaroid of a naked man, and inside it were that man's balls. "Holy shit. Where'd you get those?" Jerry asked, incredulous. "Check it out," Gord smiled, and unzipped the bag. Five more jars were inside. "Twenty-two balls, man. That asshole will make twenty-four." Jerry's eyes were wide. "How...how'd you pull this'n off?" "Turns out that I have castrated not one, but two officers of the law in this fine community," Gord began. "You would think that would turn out to be a problem, but lucky for me they were internet setups n' had wanted it. I didn't even know they was cops when I did 'em." "Okay," Jerry nodded. "So they want to help me out when I explain the problem, right? They can't get me out early, but they made sure a few heavily sedated repeat offenders came through the prison infirmary, and that I happened to be in there alone with a faked stomachache and easy access to a lot of medical supplies." Gord beamed. He related all the details to Jerry the rest of the way home, and when they pulled up to his trailer he sauntered inside with his new goodies. A few hours and a shower later, he was feeling a world better, happy and confident that not only had he gotten off with some community service, but he'd still have his balls in the morning. He could barely contain himself when the knock came at the door, promptly at midnight. Seth strode proudly in, beaming with as much confidence as Jerry was. "All right, buddy. It's midnight." "Hell yeah. Time to collect my prize," Gord shot back. "Might as well get started..." he picked up a bladeless scalpel handle and flipped it around in his fingers. "So how many'd you get?" Seth said, putting his case down on the table. "Heh," Gord sneered back, trying to prolong the moment. He strode over to his cabinet and undid the lock as Seth opened his case. "I got twenty-two," Seth bragged. Gord almost ripped the door off the cabinet. "What? Twenty-two?" "Yeah," Seth nodded, smling broadly. "About ta be twenty-four, bucko. Drop them pants." "Hey, I got twenty-two! We tied!" Gord wailed. "What? No way." Seth came over to the cabinet and Gord counted them off. Seth watched in disbelief. "You can't have twenty-four..." Gord muttered and headed over to inspect Seth's case. "Wait, this is only six jars!" he exclaimed, looking at the case. Seth rolled his eyes and lifted the top part out of the case, revealing six more jars underneath. "May I present a nearby regional college's champion basketball team, still flushed and plump from their recent victory," he presented with a flourish. Sure enough, there were six more... "The whole team? How..." Gord muttered. "Doesn't matter how. What are we gonna do with a tie? I want those balls," Seth eyed Gord's crotch, Gord's cock still hard from thinking about nutting a whole wrestling team. Too bad he couldn't get their cocks, too. "Sudden death!" Seth got an idea. "No, no...that would be silly. And dangerous," Gord thought. "I got a better idea. Double or nothing." "Double or nothing? We only got one set of balls ourselves, bucko." "No, no, like this. You want to learn to cut dick, right? So I'll teach you. When you're ready to take it on, we go double or nothing." "Ah, the whole shebang, eh?" Seth smiled, and nodded a bit. "Okay, I'm in." Over in the corner, Jerry rolled his eyes. "Here we go again," he mumbled, under his breath. |