Uncle Bill was a long haul trucker and sometimes he let my cousin Rick accompany him on his cross-country trips. Hauling passengers was against company policy, and his bosses would have really shit bricks had they known that Uncle Bill was also teaching his teenage son how to drive their truck. Uncle Bill couldn’t risk showing up at the terminal with a passenger, so Dad picked Rick up at an interstate rest area so he could stay with us for a couple of days until Uncle Bill came back through. My older brother had moved out so Rick used the empty bed in my room.

Rick lived on the opposite side of the country and Mom didn’t get along with his mom or something, so the families never visited each other. Rick was just seventeen that summer and would be a senior in high school that fall but he looked a lot older. He was as tall as Dad and he had a beard just like older guys often wore, and didn’t have a lot in common with a twelve-year-old runt like me. He made a big deal out of the birthmark on my face and made a point to remind me that he was a real man and that I was just a little kid, but somehow we managed to get along.

Mom and Dad had a function to attend one night and left Rick and I alone, with instructions for me to be in bed by nine. Rick had to meet his dad early the next morning so he and I both headed upstairs just before nine. The bathroom was just across the hallway and since I was the only occupant of the upper floor I usually stripped down naked for the trip to the shower. I was just a prepubescent little kid then without pubes or significant tools, but I was starting to get a little bit self-conscious about my body, so while he was there I kept my skivvies on going to the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist for the trip back to the room.

Rick was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked. Some of the more mature seventh graders that I showered with had some hair and real balls, but I’d never seen an older guy naked. A dense mat of dark hair covered his crotch and belly and his balls were huge. He had been messing with his dick and rubbing himself when I came in, and when he stood up it jutted out from the forest of hair as if he had a pink banana clamped between his legs.

“Come here, Paul,” he said, grabbing the towel around my waist. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He pulled the towel away and I instinctively dropped my hands to conceal my nakedness from his prying eyes, but he merely grabbed each of my arms in his powerful hands, spun me around, and pushed me onto my bed.

He let go of my arms and held me on the bed with one powerful hand to the back of my neck, and I felt other hand slide under my belly, then came the awful pressure as he took hold of my nuts. I had taken a few innocent pops to my balls by then and had seen older guys putting nut locks on each other, but no one, not even a doctor, had ever touched my naked balls. I hollered, of course, and begged him to release me, but he ignored my pleadings and the only thing I could do was pull my knees under me and try and curl up and ease the pain.

“Men like me have needs,” he said, then I heard him hawk and spit, then felt the glob slide down the crack in my butt, but I still didn’t have a clue what was going on until I felt a couple of exploratory probes from his cock and then the red-hot stab as he hilted me. I could clearly feel his hairy chest against my back and each of his massive nuts against my ass cheeks and hear his raspy panting as he humped away.

“Have you ever thought about what it would feel like to have your balls cut off?” He asked later as I was sitting on the toilet sobbing and trying to void his sperm. He was standing at the basin, washing my shit and blood off his cock. “Answer me!”

“Uh, no, I guess.” There were a lot of things for twelve-year-old kids to think about, including some that were sexual in nature, but none of mine had ever involved castration.

“You blab about what you made do to you tonight and I’ll come back and squeeze your nuts until they pop and then cut them off and stuff what’s left of them up your ass. Got it?” He asked, opening and closing the little Mexican switchblade that he was so proud of

“Yeah, I got it.” My puny little insignificant balls still hurt from the squeeze he’d just given them, and to have them totally crushed would be painful beyond comprehension.

He strutted across the parking lot the next morning and climbed up into the cab of the Kenworth with the proud swagger that I would eventually learn that guys use right after they get laid. “He’s sure a nice boy,” Mom said as they drove away. I could have argued the point with her, but my sore ass and swollen nuts were a reminder for me to keep silent.

Four years passed until I saw Rick again, and even then it was not by my choice. Our grandfather had died and it was decided that his six grandsons would be pallbearers. I didn’t talk to Rick or acknowledge his presence in any way at the funeral and he didn’t even give me a second glance, but afterwards there was a big Irish wake and he finally spoke to me. Not to apologize for buttfucking me, but to introduce me and my brother to his fiancé. She was a hot looking chick about eighteen years old who had just graduated from high school. I was sixteen then, so Rick must have just turned twenty-one, and he was celebrating his adulthood by slamming down the booze with the real men.

“So, runt, you get it wet yet?” He slurred, “Of course, with a face that that it’ll be you wearing the paper bag.” Then he walked off laughing at his own joke while I stood there turning beet red, wishing I could hide.

“That’s just Rick, don’t let it bother you,” me brother consoled me, but it still pissed me off. The birthmark on my face was eventually supposed to disappear, and it had faded a lot but I was still pretty self-conscious about it and my adolescent acne, and even though I was teenage-horny, the resulting confidence issues had effectively kept me from getting laid.

Late that evening I took a stroll around Uncle Tom’s farm. Mom and Dad had driven their RV to the funeral, and I was staying in it with them. Uncle Tom had borrowed three travel trailers for more of the family, and the rest were camped out at the small motel in town. It had been a tough day, and all of the parked RVs were dark and silent, but a light came on in the small Airstream that was Rick’s quarters, and the door opened and Rick’s fiancé went in. Uncle Tom’s wife wouldn’t put up with any hanky-panky and she’d insisted that Rick’s fiancé stay in one of the bedrooms in the house while Rick was exiled to the Airstream. The window was open, so being a typical teenage letch, I crouched down under it to listen.

“But Baby, I need it bad,” Rick pleaded, “please, just this once?”

“I told you,” his fiancé said patiently but firmly, “I promised my mother on her deathbed that I’d be a virgin on my wedding night. We’ve waited this long, so another month won’t kill you.”

“Well, you could, you know, roll over. That way you’d still be a virgin, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not some bimbo in a stag film, Rick. We tried that, remember? It didn’t do anything for me, and besides that I hurt for a week afterwards.” I could certainly relate to that.

“But Baby, men have needs. Maybe some other way, you know, please?”

“Okay Rick, I understand, but I won’t do it again until after we’re married.”

I could hear the creak of his belt and the sound of his zipper, and then the rustle of his clothing, and finally the complaint of the bedsprings. I chanced a peek in the corner of the window and could see that she’d shed her top and bra, and was bent over him, taking him in her mouth. The cock and balls that once seemed so huge to my young eyes and virgin ass now appeared no larger than my own.

I squatted back down and listened as she took care of Rick’s ‘needs’. “Who was that young guy with the mark on his face that you were talking to?” She asked afterwards as they lie together on the bed.

“Oh, that’s my cousin Paul. They live in Spokane,” Rick explained to his fiancé. She was from Missoula, Montana, which was just a few hours from Spokane.

“He’s cute,” she said, “and he has a hot bod. He must lift weights or work out a lot.” It was nice of her to notice. I was on the wrestling squad, and I tool District last season and was going to try for State next year.

“He likes boys,” Rick said. “He could probably teach you a thing or two about giving blowjobs.” It was all I could do to not bust in there and at least try and kick the shit out of him, but instead I slinked away like a wounded dog and went back to my parents’ RV.

“I want to go to Wrestling Camp,” I told my parents two weeks later. “It’s at the University of Montana in Missoula, and Coach said it would really help me. They’re sending the team bus, and we’ll stay in the dorms, so it won’t cost hardly anything”

“Isn’t that where Rick’s wedding is going to be?” Mom asked. We’d gotten the obligatory invitation, but Mom and Rick’s mom still had their differences and my parents had no intention of attending. Besides that, they’d all just seen each other at the funeral.

“Yeah, I think so, but I don’t really care about that,” I lied. “Besides that, I’m going to be really busy at the clinic.”

“It would be a nice gesture if you showed up for even just a few minutes,” Mom said, “and I’m sure it would mean so much to Rick to see you there.” I fully intended on seeing Rick, but Mom and Dad didn’t have to know anything about that.

It all came together with surprising ease: The bride’s parents were listed in the phone book, and I called and told them that I was an old buddy of Rick’s and that although I couldn’t come to the wedding I wanted to send them something special at whatever hotel they would be staying afterwards.

“Oh, that’s nice!” The bride’s mother exclaimed without the slightest hint of suspicion. “They have the bridal suite at the Regency reserved, then they’ll drive back to Omaha for their honeymoon.”

The Rophynol cost me most of a week’s wages from my summer job, and concentrating it down took most all of my spare time, but sneaking into their room and coating the complimentary Champaign glasses with the compound turned out to be a cinch. I was hiding in the closet and wearing a ski mask over my face when they came into the room. I thought that Mr. Romantic might carry his bride over the threshold or something corny like that, but all he did was hurriedly strip down while she went to the bathroom.

I heard the pop of the cork when he opened the bottle, and then his toast to her, and then the sound of the bottle as they refilled their glasses.

“Are you forgetting something?” She asked.

“Uh, what?” Rick was already slurring his words a little.

“Protection, silly. I don’t want to get pregnant yet, and I won’t fill the prescription until tomorrow.” She was also sounding woozy. Nothing more was said, and when I silently opened the door they were both passed out on the bed, seemingly awake but in a zombie-like trance.

Rick was flopped out on the bed, legs apart. His erection had waned, but his dick still glistened from his anticipation. His balls hung low between his hairy thighs and I took them in my hand to judge their size and then felt my own for comparison. Mine were definitely bigger. I gave them a gentle squeeze and his only response was a slight twitching of his dick. He was so whacked out from the drug that I could have set them on fire and he wouldn’t have cared.

His bride was beautiful to say the least. Big boobs and bright red protruding nipples and a bikini-trimmed bush that barely concealed the lips of her twat. I had seen a lot of pictures and a couple of stag films, but it was the first time I’d ever been up close to a naked chick and I got hard as I scoped out her bod. I rolled Rick off of the bed onto the floor, then stripped down and plopped down next to his bride. Rophynol is known as the so-called Date Rape drug, and it certainly did its job. I was horny as hell and since I hadn’t jacked off in a week I came in less than a minute, and when I finally rolled off of her there was blood on my cock and the towel that she’d thoughtfully placed under her to protect the sheets. She had indeed been a virgin. So had I.

I took my time with Rick. He was sprawled out on the floor and I could have cut his nuts off just like that and he would have bled to death with a smile on his face. Instead, I pulled the laces from his shoes, knotted them together, and then looped the long string around his nutsack, pulling the lace tighter with each wrap until his balls were compressed into a bulging lump the size of a doorknob, straining against the thin skin if his scrotum. He still had the little switchblade that he’d threatened me with, so it was only fitting that it was used for his own castration. That got me hard again, and the second time with his new wife was better than the first, and even though she was semi-comatose, she way she moved made me certain that that I’d rang her bell. I sure as hell rang my own.

I quickly got dressed and slipped out the door, pausing only long enough to put the rest of the Rophynol in Rick’s pocket and flush his balls down the toilet. I was back on the edge of the campus near the dorm in fifteen minutes, just another high school kid from the wrestling camp, not a physco that had just castrated his newlywed cousin and raped the bride on their wedding night.

“He’s hot. He must be one of the wrestlers.” Three teenage chicks were checking me out.

“Definitely,” I heard another one say, “At least a nine-point-six.”

“Yeah, but he’s probably not interested in us.”

“Why’s that?”

“Look at his bulge and the way he’s walking. Guys always walk like that right after they’ve just, you know, scored.”