Cutter's Ball Part One
By: Special

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[STRAIGHT] [TESTICLES]

A cutter enjoys an unusual convention 

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Cutter’s Ball Part 1

By: Special



As I trotted up the stairs leading to the convention hall, I happened to glance at my watch. Having arrived with plenty of time to spare, I decided to take a roundabout way to the auditorium where mom and Edith will be giving their presentation. I certainly wasn’t going to be late for that. I know how important some good moral support is when the eyes of the most recognizable cutter’s in the country are upon you.

The reception desk was manned by a couple of very pretty young women, and they simply smiled as I passed and they noted I already had a name tag and identity card for the N.U.T.S. convention.

N.U.T.S. is the acronym for the National Union of Testicular Studies, an elite and covert organization of which I’m a proud member. It’s a closed association of cutters and others in similar occupations and environments from the various regions of the country. We are indeed branching out Internationally though, and several European cutters are attending this year’s convention.

The fact is, ninety percent of the contract castrations I perform are arranged through the organizations booking agents. They are the ones that bring clients and cutters together, and they also make the special arrangements that clients often request. A well-planned castration is seldom a simple affair. My friend and frequent cutting partner Edith just happens to be both an agent and a well known cutter. That alone has my cutting schedule rather well booked, and also it affords me opportunity to choose to do the type of castrations that I get the most personal satisfaction from performing. That satisfaction being a fierce orgasm or two as I relieve desperate and needy men of their balls. Regular sex with two boyfriends and the frequent encounters with the continual stream of men coming to me for their castrations, also manages to keep my considerable libido in check.

As I round the first corner and encounter the initial row of vendor stalls, I spot a couple old friends, Dahlia and Reg from Tampa. Besides being agents that book almost all of the Florida castrations, they also are strong promoters of the eunuch lifestyle. My mother castrated Reg several years ago, and quite recently he had very large stainless steel balls inserted into his scrotum. As I approached his stall, he was proudly showing off the two pronounce bulges in his low slung scrotum to a keenly interested older couple. The wife was very impressed with the look, and I simply waited to say hi until they had asked all the questions they wanted. The woman seemed even more pleased when Dahlia raved on and on about Reg’s supercharged libido from the injected hormone replacement therapy he received, and her eyes were glued to Reg’s stiffening cock. The couple had the look of wanting to book a castration immediately.

“Are those even bigger than last year?” I laughed as Reg turns to greet me and his balls roll and dangle along his thigh.

“Yeah, I think they’re growing!” he laughed. “Good to see you again Karin, and you’re looking more beautiful every year.”

“Easy Tiger,” Dahlia playfully shot in Reg’s direction as she noticed his cock continuing to stiffen. “You don’t want to be running around with an empty bag again do you?”

We joked and talked a little, doing a bit of catch-up from not seeing each other for months. We also discussed business, and I learned that bookings are brisk in Florida, especially during the winter with all the snowbirds shuttling back and forth. I’m amazed that more and more men are combining a vacation with their castrations. I’ll have to consider a move to a warmer climate.

With a final wave to Dahlia and Reg, I continued on down the row of vendors toward the far end of the hall.

I was almost to the end of the wide hallway, and just past the last vendor stall when I seen her, a strikingly beautiful young woman in tall black boots, a black leather bustier, and matching hot-pants. She’s leading a prancing pony-boy around the corner, and they entered a room just to the right of the adjoining hallway. What really caught my attention was the brilliant glittery tail on the pony-boy. It had to be a butt-plug of considerable dimensions to support a tail like that. Of course the long flowing mane and well fitted leggings were just as dashing, and you could see the obvious pride in his gait

Curiosity got the best of me, and I followed the pair into the room.

The moment I entered I knew what was taking place. It was a free clinic set up especially for the convention where women could have their pony-boy’s gelded free of charge if they signed up for demonstrations. Lots of castrations would be performed over the next two days in just such a manner. In fact Mom and Edith were going to be castrating free clients as they demonstrated their techniques to the other cutters.

There were several ponies already tied to a rail along one side of the large room, and I could see them standing slightly bow-legged with drooping cocks and empty bags. They had already endured the cutter’s blade, and they stood quietly as a young female cutter tended to the gashes on their shriveled scrotums.

There was a cluster of women gathered around the cutting arena, several in skimpy outfits. Others simply wore their riding attire, complete with tight jodhpurs and polished boots. I noticed one particularly well dressed young woman in light tan jodhpurs with a damp spot showing at the tight fitting crotch, and I knew she’d been observing most of the castrations.

I wormed my way to the front as the woman I followed led her pony toward the arena. As I managed to divert my eyes from his impressive scrotum, swinging with considerable authority given the cargo of large testicles, I saw the wild-eyed look as he suddenly shied and reared as he saw where she was leading him. Two women in riding attire stepped forward to assist, and with their additional weight against the bridle, and of course a few harsh licks with riding crops, the pony behaved.

The women led him beside what appeared to be some sort of large double ended sawhorse. Two powerfully built women shoved the wooden structure under the pony and secured his legs tightly with leather restraints. With the pony-boy restrained and a ball gag in place, I saw a woman appear from behind a false wall to one side of the arena. She was a very plain looking redhead, with beefy arms well-covered with freckles. She only wore a yellow apron, already well spattered with droplets of blood from what I assumed were prior castrations, and tall leather boots. Her hands were covered with thick blue latex gloves and clenched in her right hand was a wicked looking knife, large enough to be easily used for carving a fine ham and totally beyond anything required for a castration. It did have quite an effect on the ladies as well as the pony-boy. The pony-boy fought and struggled as she approached him, and she smiled at him as she ran her hand down his flank, and moved to kneel behind his splayed legs.

The group of women closed tight as the initial cut was made, and several gasps and sighs were heard as the first large testicle popped from the slit in the bag. I heard a groan as the pony-boy struggled hard as the knife scraped though the tough cord, eventually shredding it and freeing the testicle. The woman simply tossed it aside onto the floor, and the dull slap of it hitting the tiled floor drew all eyes.

The pony-boy was struggling to lunge forward as the second cut bared his last testicle, and I saw the bright plumage of his tail vibrate wildly as the woman completed his emasculation. His owner was panting and had her hand driven down the front of her brief pants, and I understood her intense desire. I heard the unmistakable sound of several moaned orgasms as the second testicle landed near the first on the cold tile floor.

With the fight totally gone from him, I watched as the pony-boy was led to the railing and tied with the others. His defeated expression was obvious, and his proud prancing gait was likely gone forever.

Feeling just a little giddy from watching, I left the cutting room and continued down the hall toward the intimate little auditorium where mom and Edith would soon be giving their demonstrations.

As I rounded the far corner, I saw another adjoining room with a door ajar. Well things had been interesting in the last one, so I decided to check this room out too.

I saw a small crowd of women clustered against the far wall, and I walked directly over, now very curious to see what was garnering all that attention.

Working my way past a couple of the women, I could see two naked men tied to an iron framed gantry with arms and legs widely spread in strong restraints, and both well gagged. This was a ball-busting demonstration, and it had just started moments ago. One of the volunteers appeared as though he hadn’t been touched yet, and he had a full upright erection. The other was not endowed nearly as well as the first, and his erection was at about half-mast.

A young woman emerged from the crowd and positioned herself directly in front of the man on the right, a tall dark haired fellow with an impressive and well-toned physique. She was dressed in a snappy little soccer uniform, and she seemed to be working out just the correct angle. With a look of determination on her face, she delivered a powerful full leg extension kick to the mans dangling testicles. The flat of her cleat struck his scrotum perfectly, driving his balls hard into his groin with a fierce thud. He reared in his restrains, and his head swung back and forth wildly. I heard a couple oohs from the gallery as his testicles again dangled loosely, and his cock snapped bolt upright. The young girl displays a very smug grin as she watches the mans cock quiver with rigidity. He couldn’t possibly get any harder.

A second girl dressed in what I assumed was a rival uniform lined up on the second man, a far thinner and less muscular man, but with an impressively large cock that trembled with a fierce erection from watching the previous performance, and knowing he was about to receive the same treatment. This girls kick was far more vicious, and just as accurate. The man bucked and shook in his restraints, quivering violently from head to toe before slumping. His erection quickly withered, and I watched as a cutter I knew rushed to inspect for ruptured testicles that might require immediate removal. She gave a thumbs up, and I knew the man’s testicles were still ok. I left before a second kick was delivered. I knew both men, and likely several more, would have their balls so severely damaged that castration would be their only relief. Watching the display had taken the edge off my arousal, and I was almost normal as I walked out of the room.

I noticed several cutters I recognized walking into the small auditorium where mom and Edith would be conducting their demonstrations. Most were women, but several men were in the crowd immediately to the right of the door.

I briefly talked to several people just outside the door, but I hurried the conversations as I wanted a good seat. I can never get enough of watching my mother and Edith work together. They are a superlative team, and castrated men across the country rave about the wonderful experience they enjoyed at their hands. My close association and frequent assists with them have been bolstering my own reputation as well, and my bookings have steadily increased over the past year.

I found a rather good seat, and settled in for the oratory segment of the demonstrations. This was always conducted before everyone got up and clustered around the gurney’s to observe the actual castrations. I smiled a greeting as a very pretty young woman settled into the chair directly beside me.

“Hi, I’m Karin,” I said, extending my hand to her.

“I’m Thecia, pleased to meet you Karin,” She replies. “Are you familiar with these two renowned cutters?”

“Just a little,” I laugh, “My mother is the blonde on the left.” And I point out my mother as she stands beside Edith.

“Oh my goodness. You’re not Karin Parks are you?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you!” Thecia gushes, “I’ve heard so much about you. I can’t believe I’m actually sitting right beside you. It’s so wonderful to actually meet you!”

“Whoa. I’m not accustomed to such flattery!” I reply with a laugh. “And half of what you heard probably isn’t true anyway. Even the good parts.”

Thecia and I strike up a great little conversation. She tells me all about her freelance cutting experiences, the fact she’s just become a member of N.U.T.S., and that this is her first convention. I like her immediately. She’s got a bubbly personality, and the all-over-cute looks to go with it. She’s dressed in a sleek blue and perfectly fit skirt, daringly short, and accompanied by a very dressy white blouse that’s just tight enough to emphasize her ample bosom. The two open buttons on the front reveal the beginning of the cleft between her breasts. It’s a classy yet very sexy look. I love her shoulder length light brown hair with the curled ends, and her mysterious dark eyes appear as though they look right into my soul as she speaks to me. We are similarly aged, and as the conversation progresses I find we have much in common. Namely sex, men, more sex, and naturally castration. I’m almost disappointed as Mom and Edith begin their presentation.

Thecia clings to every work of the presentation, and as Edith winds down the oratory, I take Thecia’s hand and lead her to where we can clearly see everything that’s going to take place when the clients are brought out and the actual castrations are performed. This is the part of the demonstrations all the cutters want to observe, and learn from.

The castrations will be a little more clinical that either mom’s or Edith’s usual methods. That means there won’t be any actual sex acts performed for the crowd, although you can never be sure given Edith’s wild character and overactive libido. There’s not much that appeals to her more than riding out a man’s final ejaculation as he’s being castrated by my mother, or me for that matter. Mom I know can control herself, and for that I can’t help but be a little grateful. A pubic demonstration of your mother having intense orgasms would be more than a little embarrassing.

Thecia and I are discussing the two differing techniques we’ll be observing as the first gurney is wheeled out. The volunteer is a young man, possibly twenty or just older, and athletically built with a well rippled torso and well defined abs. His tousled mop of curly dark hair adds to his appeal. I find his rock-hard erection and impressively large testicles quite appealing too.

Mom wheels her small stainless cart beside the gurney, and Edith arranged her instruments as mom explains her technique and how she prefers the use of the small emasculator instead of a simple scalpel removal of the testicles. She also details how she always tries to remove the last testicle at the peak of a man’s orgasm, and that’s what they are planning to do as a demonstration today. The subjects erection slaps against his belly as he hears the details of his impending procedure, and I notice a strand of pre-cum dangling from the tip of his cock. He’s ready.

Both dressed in lab coats, Mom and Edith wait until the onlookers who want to learn and perhaps utilize their techniques surround the cutting table. I manage to position Thecia right in the thick of it.

Edith works the young man’s cock as mom begins. She explains everything as she cuts, eventually working the first testicle out of the scrotum and lifting it to show everyone. I hear Thecia suck in her breath. As mom explains the positioning of the emasculator, Edith quickens her stroking of the young man’s cock. He’s so hard he just has to be close to orgasm.

As mom works his other testicle out of the scrotum I see the slight rise of his hips. The crunch of the emasculator taking the first testicle breaks the breathless silence of the room, and the young man’s groaned beginning of orgasm quickly follows.

Edith pumps wildly as the emasculator jaws bite into the cord of the young man’s last testicle at the height of his orgasm, and there are many gasps of desire in the room as the young man’s hips lunge into the air and his final stream of semen jets skyward. He had experienced a massive ejaculation.

Thecia gasped as Edith stripped the last remnants of semen from the man’s withering cock, and slowly licked it from her fingers.

“I think I need some air,” Thecia panted with an obvious quaver in her voice.

I assisted in getting her through the shoulder to shoulder crowd, and I fanned her a little as she sagged into a chair.

“I was just a little giddy for a moment there,” She said.

“Of course you were,” I laughed as I continued to fan her. “I know how aroused you are. I’m there too!”

“You mean you get…you know…”

“Of course!” I laughed. “Horny as hell! Every woman does when she watches such an intense castration. That’s why I cut.”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Heavens no!” I replied, “I’ll tell you about some of my experiences sometime. Do you want to watch Edith’s presentation? It’ll be starting shortly.”

“No. I think I better sit this one out,” Thecia replied weakly. “I’m not sure I can control myself. You go ahead though.”

“Come on…lets get you something to drink. I get to watch Edith perform any time I want to anyway.”

“You sure? I don’t want to keep you from missing something.” Thecia said.

“I’m not missing anything, besides Edith is pretty tame in front of a crowd, You should see her when we’re doing a guy in a private setting. She drives those guys wild!”

As we left the auditorium, Thecia and I renewed our conversation that we were having before the demonstration. It’s not long before she’s back to her normal personality, and we laugh and giggle like schoolgirls as we confide to each other how aroused we both are from watching my mothers demonstration, and we tell each other some of the funny little things that have happened during our cuttings. We laughed openly as she told me of fucking a man just after she castrated his boyfriend. If the boyfriend wouldn’t have been totally spent from a fierce orgasm during his castration, she’s have fucked him too.

Thecia and I continued talking and laughing over soda’s in the small cafeteria set up adjacent to the auditorium, and we can hear clapping. I guessed it was from Edith finishing up her demonstration.

“You want to go on a manhunt tonight? Thecia suddenly asked.

“A manhunt?”

“Yeah, a manhunt. You know pick up guys,” Thecia laughed. “You like guys don’t you?”

“Yeah I like guys!” I replied, trying to sound very indignant even though I was beginning to laugh.

“Well?”

“Sounds great. How about we check out the crowd at the Cutter’s Ball tonight?”

“The Cutter’s Ball?”

“Yeah, it’s a little mixer at a local bar for all the people that attend the convention. Everybody shows up. It’s neat.”

“Sounds like fun, and I really really need a man tonight,” Thecia laughed.

“Me too!”

“Umm, sounds good,” Thecia replied with a particular gleam in her eye. “You want to cut a guy tonight too?”

“That might be a little optimistic,” I laughed. “You just don’t run into guys like that casually. At least I don’t.”

“I can pick out a guy from any crowd that wants it,” Thecia replies confidently. “That’s how I get most of the guys I cut. I just pick them up.”

“You must be joking. You can tell a guy wants to be cut?”

“Yup, right away,” Thecia laughed, “And I’ll prove it. How about we make a little wager?”

“Your on!”

“Ok, and let’s make it a round of drinks ok. If I don’t find us a great looking guy to fuck and cut tonight, I’ll buy you whatever your favorite cocktail is. How’s that for a bet.”

“Ok…that’s a bet!”

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