This story forms yet another tale in the series that has come to be known as Ayzintion City. The series is written in such a way that it doesn’t really matter which story you read first, yet even so, they all form the tale and they are all written about the same, magical place that is found only in my mind. As a reminder, 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.

Change comes like the wind, and fate can turn like an autumn leaf and chance and hope and despair can intermingle in a moment’s notice. For a slave, there is never any certainty, and weather a slave will spend his life in the fields or working the sails of a ocean vessel will depend on who purchases him and what it is they need him for. A slave may spend an entire life with a single master, or get sold and bought a dozen times. He may live a life of luxury, and be pampered with the finest of food and wine, or work the hog troughs and find himself over a whipping bench and burned with the lash just because it can be done. With each turn of fate change comes, some for the better and some not A slave may keep his balls for life, or lose them on the auction block. So too it goes weather a slave breeds and sires children or spreads his legs and opens his hole. It all depends, on who purchases him and what it is that they desire, and even under the same owner that desire can change as well and so the only certainty is the uncertainty of where things will go.

I had worked as an overseer for more than forty years, doing the patriarch’s work and running things as he wanted it done. Then, without a lot of warning, Johnathon Tanner suddenly had grown ill and in less than a month’s time he was at death’s doorstep, in spite of all of my efforts to make it otherwise. As I saw him burning with the fever and struggling to breathe I knew that changes would be forthcoming and whenever there is a change of ownership there are no certainties. Of course, I had know the two sons, Thomas and Cody, and had watched them grow up as the first and second heirs to the Tanner estate. Cody was the youngest, and he was married now with son’s of his own and a wife that would make any man proud. Cody lived in the city, working the slave yards making his money peddling human flesh, and I had no doubt he would come home for the funeral but after that he would return to his family and the work that held him. But Thomas was another matter, and being the older son he would take the ranch, and the livestock and the crops and the slaves that tended them. And, I would then work for him. That’s just the way it was, and the way it had always been. Cody certainly understood it, and while there is an unfairness perhaps it is the way it would go and there was no confrontation or question to make it otherwise.

Thomas had come quickly when his father had grown ill, and while that did not surprise me he came with an eagerness I had not expected. I had last seen him in his twenties, when he had shown up with his friend and lover, and that stay had not gone well with his father and he did not linger. Now he was in his early forties, and over the years since he had left the ranch his belly had grown heavy, and his beard was thick. He liked to laugh, and he laughed a little too much for me as his father died, and I think he was more thrilled with the prospect of his inheritance than he was pained by the passing of the man that had made him. It wasn’t that which bothered me. And it wasn’t a worry of mine if he would keep me on either, as I assumed he would still need an overseer and he had liked me as a youth and there were few others with my skills or experience. I was getting along in my years, but even if he did let me go, there were other places my skills were needed, and I knew I would find work no matter how things might change. So, I was not worried about my own changes which would come with the change of my employer.

What concerned me was that I knew him from his younger days, and unlike his father, and unlike his brother, Thomas had never found his pleasure between a woman’s legs, and from my memories of his teenage years and the way he had made the two eunuch house slaves spread their legs and open their holes to him, I was fairly certain that for some of the boys currently working the ranch that their lives would certainly be changing. What I couldn’t foresee was how quickly he would make it so.

Death came to his father as it comes to all of us in time, and the funeral was held and then it was done, and Cody came and went just as I had predicted. Two days after his father’s death Thomas summoned me, just around ten in the morning as the day was starting to heat up. I could tell from the intensity of the sun and the lack of wind that it would be another scorcher.

“Leon, I….I want to know the status of the ranch. Are we making money, or losing it? My father was a lousy bookkeeper but from what I can tell we are not doing well.”

I looked at him, and then I said: “Well sire, the crops we have managed to harvest have been selling, but the livestock is expensive to feed and the price of pork is less than it has been before. The sun has been very hot though, and the rain has been lacking, so the crops we still have in the fields could go either way at this point and there is no way of telling. I would say we are holding our own, but a lot will depend on the rain and how the harvest goes. You are right that the ranch is not doing all that well, and there is no money to waste if that is your question.”

He nodded. Then he said: “I thought the same, but wanted to hear you say it. You and I will have to look at where the efforts need to be changed.”

Then, he took on a serious look, and asked: “What about my slaves? How many do we have now, and what is their status?”

I looked at him, and then, carefully, I answered: “Sire, we have seventeen total working the ranch. Two are women, in the kitchen. Julia is the young one, at nineteen and she does most of the cooking. Maria is older, but she has experience and was your father’s favorite and he made promises to her which I hope you will keep. As for the male slaves, we have ten for the fields, to tend the crops and work the garden, and five more that handle the hogs. They are good strong workers, and we need everyone to keep the ranch running.”

His eyes narrowed, and then he said: “Do we have any for the house? Besides the women I mean. Do we have any boys to work inside?”

I looked at him, and said: “Well, the two youngest boys help clean the house on Saturday, and they are available to help with any other chores if needed, although your father tended to keep them in the house garden most of the time.”

He nodded his head. And then he said: “What about slaves to pleasure our invited guests? Or me? How many eunuchs do we have for that purpose?”

My heart started to pound. Ah….I knew it was going to happen, but just to hear it moving in that direction so quickly was still not something I was totally prepared for. Slowly, I gave him the truth: “Well sire, your father…..your father did not have any…. he did not keep any pleasure slaves after you moved away. After your mother died I believe on occasion Maria might have tended to his needs, but even of that I am not positive. There are no longer any eunuchs here, and he did not favor men with empty scrotums. He felt it was important for the field slaves to keep their balls so that they would have the strength of men to work the fields.”

I saw him lick his lips. His eyes sparkled, and he laughed. He looked out the window, where two of the teenage slave boys were picking through the tomatoes. He stared at them for a while, and then he lowered his voice and said “I like to have a eunuch service me now and then, and I like to have a few on hand in case I want to invite over some friends, which I will do from time to time. I will need some eunuchs and I will have them.”

I did not know how to respond to that. I knew all of the slaves on the ranch, all of them, and the prospect of cutting any of them did not sit well with me. I hesitated, and then finally said: “If you would like sire, I could go to the slave market on Wednesday, and purchase a few that would meet your needs. I’m sure your brother would make you a deal, and he has the connections.”

He said: “No…..I’ve already seen enough of the finances to know that we do not have the money for that, and I’m not about to give Cody that satisfaction. As you already said, we are doing ok, but barely. I do not think we have the money to purchase and feed an additional group of slaves, and from my experience a eunuch can tend a hoe and pick tomatoes or clean out the hog pins just as easily as a boy with balls. In fact, with nothing to distract him he might even be a better worker.”

There was nothing I could say to that, and so it was decided. The only question was the number, and who they would be. I had not cut a slave in more than ten years, and yet the skill was there, and I had been a cutter in the city in my early years and my license was valid and the knowledge was not lost to me. Of course, Thomas was aware of all of that, and if he wanted a boy cut then he would have me cut him. Nevertheless it was not something I wanted to do.

I think I knew it was useless, but still I tried: “Sire, I really would suggest that we purchase a few specific slaves just to your liking. There are trained pleasure slaves in the city, and a cutting does not always go well, and even when it does it takes time for a boy to heal. We really do need every……..”

He cut me off by lifting his hand. Then he said, with a slight edge to his voice: “Leon, I know you have the skill, and if I want it done you will do it. Otherwise, you will not work for me, and I will hire another overseer who will do as I tell him. I am not like my father, but do not judge me. I have my good qualities, and how I find my pleasure is not your business. I do not fuck children. That said, I prefer to make them eunuchs after their balls start to grow, and certainly after they are shooting their seed. I like strong young males, with fully grown pricks and hard bodies. While I’ll take them with hair under their arms and around their holes, I prefer them smooth, and so if I have the chance then I like them nutted when they are younger so that their bodies remain relatively hairless and their cocks are not so important to them. Still, regardless of when they are castrated, I generally do not fuck them until they are at least eighteen, when their holes can accommodate a man’s cock and their mouths can be trained to suck a big pole and do it right.”

I stared at him, and listened. There was nothing really for me to say.

“Leon, there is one more thing. You need to remember your place, and the place of a slave. I pay you to do my bidding. A slave carries his balls only because his master desires it. These slaves have a new master, and that master is me. For some of them, what I desire now is that their bags be emptied. I prefer my pleasure slaves to be under twenty, and so what I want to know from you right now is the number we have on hand that are still in their teens?”

My heart pounded. All of what he had said was true, all of it. It did not matter what I wanted, or what they wanted. None of it mattered. Finally, slowly, I said “Five. Gant is nineteen, but he will turn twenty in two weeks time. If you don’t count him, then there are four. Gregory is eighteen, but barely. We celebrated his birthday just two days ago. He is built like a fortress, with a shorter body that is ripped with muscle. He’s from the Slavic region, and he’s physically very strong and well-muscled and I’m not sure he would be want you would want. He’s deep into manhood, and looks much older than most eighteen year olds, and I think his cock has already found one of the housemaids on at least one occasion. He certainly has an interest there and it is not lost on anyone. His bush is thick too, and his cock is fat and long. He’s not much of a boy really, and his thoughts are certainly on the girls, and I suspect soon he will ask you if he can marry one. I do not see him making a good bed slave.

If you want smooth boys Trevor might be the one. He has bright red hair, which makes him stand out. He is seventeen, but by only a few weeks, and he’s a pleasant sort of lad who is usually willing to please. But he’s also into girls I think, and I do not think he would be very willing to spread his legs or open his hole to a man’s cock. He’s tall and thin, with a smooth body, and I’d have to say he’s probably a pretty typical teenage boy. His voice is still cracking, and as a guess I’d say he’s about half way through puberty. He’s got a big smile and does his work well, and his stomach is flat and firm.

The other boys are younger, just boys who are only just coming into their potential. Michael is fourteen, and Gentry is thirteen. Gentry’s not yet into puberty, at least the last time I looked, and when I last saw him at the baths there was no hair above his prickle and I doubt he has ejaculated any seed as of yet. Michael is a little more mature, and definitely has started his sprout into manhood. I suspect that Gentry should follow him soon. Right now they are hard workers and are doing a good job for the ranch. As for making them into bed slaves, I would recommend you wait a while, and in my opinion you would break their spirit if you emptied their bags now. Another thing for you to consider, is that Michael is blond, and along with Trevor he may well be worth some money. Both boys have bright blue eyes, so I would think carefully before cutting those two. Red hair and blond hair are both unusual enough and along with their unique eye color I would think that they could be a good source of revenue should you wish to breed them.”

He was listening, so I continued.

“Sire, with no disrespect, our slaves were purchased for the fields, and if you are looking for a smooth eighteen year old you will not find one here. Trevor’s body might meet your satisfaction, but he’s just seventeen and if you prefer boys who are eighteen it will be almost a year before he will be the age you seek. The rest of the slaves are in their twenties, except for Timothy and Markus, who are even older. Oh, and Ramus too. He’s the big ox of a man who probably is the strongest slave you own, and he’s thirty. Timothy is the oldest, at thirty-five, and I count on him to keep them all working and he’s the ranch hand who runs things under me. That is why I have said that I do not think any of them will be good for the bed, and that is also why I have suggested that we go to the market and pick out exactly what it is that you would want. Besides, the ranch operation would not be hindered and we could make up the money with the harvest.”

He stared at me. Then, he looked out the window again, and the two boys picking tomatoes. Julia had come out to the garden, and was now capturing the older boy’s attention. “Which of the five are they?” he asked.

I took a glance, and said: “Gregory is the older boy on the right, the eighteen year old who is talking to the girl. You can see his interest in her from here. Gentry is the younger boy at his side, the one still picking tomatoes and who is sweating in the sun.”

Thomas smiled then, grinned really, and then he laughed. I saw him lick his lips, and then he said: “Well, Gregory has a nice body, and I like him.”

I looked out the window, and Gregory was facing the house, standing tall in the sun as he talked to Julia. His chest was bare, and is two small nipples were like points, his ripped stomach flat and perfect as it can only be on an adolescent boy. The bulge beneath his shorts was there, his manhood, defining him and making him what he was, and from the look of it the boy’s cock had clearly grown within his shorts as he had been chatting with the girl.

Thomas broke the silence. “Cut them. Do it this afternoon. Cut the five of them, and when you are doing them let me know so I can watch it being done. I enjoy watching a boy losing his balls, and I do not want to miss it when you are doing them. In fact, I want to stroke their cocks as you cut off their balls. That will tend to put them in their place, and it is fitting that their master be the one to give them their final sexual release. I will pleasure them, and in turn they will learn to pleasure me. Yes, once they are healed, they will learn to do what I want after you have taken their balls.”

I think my face went white. I stared at him. God. Five. All five of them! I had hoped he would cut only one or two of them, and it had not occurred to me he would do them all. I wanted to say something, but it was clear he had decided. I just had never thought he would cut all of the boys.

I stammered, shocked really. He was looking at me, gauging my expression perhaps, and I stared back at him and my heart pounded. From somewhere I heard my voice say “Gentry…? He… he’s just a boy. Are you sure you want him cut too?”

He smiled. Then he said: “Yes, cut the lot of them. If Gentry’s squirts, we will cut him. If he doesn’t, then we won’t. I’ll make that decision when his legs are spread and you are holding the knife against his scrotum. Now, go make it so.”

And so it was decided, and after that it was just a task that had to be performed. I decided to do the youngest of them right out in the open courtyard, over a clean bale of hay. It wasn’t ideal, but the gelding table was long since gone and the whipping bench, while it would have worked, was really designed to secure a man bent forward face down and facing the wall where it is located. While I’ve nutted men from behind I prefer it when I can see their cocks and have their scrotums totally exposed so I can see what it is that I am doing. Besides, the whipping bench is located in a dark room, and I preferred the sunlight so I would make the cuts correctly and do them right. All that being true, I knew Gant was another story, and he was very strong and it seemed it would be better to do him well secured to the whipping bench, and for him I decided it would have to work that way and I would steel his stones from behind. Besides, I knew if I did him first he would suspect nothing, and so I could say the things that would trick him into allowing himself to be tied for a whipping. Of course, once tied with his legs spread what happened after that would not be within his control. The other boys would know after that of course, but they could be handled, one at a time, and while they would probably not come willingly to the knife nevertheless I knew their struggles would be manageable.

I went to the punishment room off the courtyard, where the whipping bench is and found the canvas that held the oiled rag that contained the gelding knife. The canvas was old, but the knife was there, still wrapped in the oil-soaked cloth where it was last put away. As I took it into my hands I remembered the last slave whose balls it had taken, a sixteen year old who had run away. He had escaped from the ranch one afternoon, and when he was caught a week later he was hiding in a slave girls hut, a house servant from a neighboring ranch. Of course it was her willingness to share her sex that had drawn him to her and had made him take the chance. The patriarch’s decision to have him nutted was clearly the right one in his case, because it removed his desire to leave for her again and if it had not been done he would have run back to her as soon as he could have. The slave had to know it too, had to know it was the right decision, even if he himself didn’t want it to be done.

That slave knew it was wrong to run away, and he knew it was wrong to fuck that girl. But his balls were in control of his mind, and they had caused him to do what he was not allowed. He knew it of course. He knew that his balls had pushed him to do what he was not allowed to do. Hell, you would have thought that boy would have just willingly spread his legs and let it be done, but he did not, and instead he fought hard to keep me from taking his balls. I remember his grunting into the rag as I cut out his big nuts, and how all of the slaves had been assembled to learn the lesson his castration could teach them. He had shot his last seed as I had opened his scrotum and began to fish out his nuts, and as his big eggs were taken one after the other and tossed in the dirt he had grunted and begged and screamed. And, he also had ejaculated. His last and final and very thick load of spunk was wasted in the dirt between his legs while all the other slaves watched him grunting it out, and after it was done he was a defeated nothing, a shell of a boy. As it turned out, the master’s displeasure with his actions did not disappear with the taking of his stones, and consequently a few weeks later he had been sold away to one of the sex houses in the city.

Looking at the same blade now I could see it was not in good shape, and I had to work it against the grindstone for more than an hour to hone the steel and get it where it needed to be. The knife was small, and in a way insignificant, but the curved blade was made of the finest steel and there wasn’t a scrotum anywhere that it could not empty. I liked the knife, and the feel of it in my hand, and while I was not anxious to use it I knew how to make the cuts and it was good to own the proper tool so I could do them right.

I also washed down the whipping table with lye, as having a clean surface reduces the risk of the fever later. The slaves were busy attending their work and were not aware of what I was doing, and yet I knew that the fear of the little blade would be enough to make things difficult if they started to figure out where things were heading. Since I had so many to do, I needed some way to secure them until it was time to do what had to be done.

I went to the middle of three storage rooms across the courtyard. This one had bags of feed grain along the back wall, but otherwise was empty. I took the knife and made a large slit across the top grain bag, and let the seed pour down like a sand fountain until it covered the floor and the sack was empty. The storage rooms have no windows, and are made of stone and serve as cool storage lockers. Without a window, the only entrance is through a single door, an iron grate door that allows air to circulate within the room but keeps people and animals out. The iron gates are designed to keep intruders out, but I knew that if the iron lock was bolted with the key, it would also keep people in, and make an effective prison, for at least the short time it would be needed.

I had to move some crates and I did that myself, because I needed the adjacent storage room empty and I did not want to arouse any suspicion. I then rolled in several bails of fresh straw, to make a clean floor and to provide an area for the slaves to heal. They would need a place to rest, out of the sun, and the extra storage room would do nicely for that purpose.

It was time. I summoned for Trevor, Gregory, Michael, and Gentry. When the four teenagers showed up, they had been working in the hot sun and their bodies were glistening with sweat. They were all shirtless, and the only thing they were wearing were their shorts. They had no idea why I had called them out. I had them pick up two shovels, and two buckets, and then I led them to the storage room with the spilled grain. When they saw it, I said “See that mess? Pick up the grain, and get it into the buckets. We can not afford to lose it.”

They seemed relieved to be out of the sun for a while, and without any hesitation, or questions, the four teenagers went into the stone storage room and began to work at cleaning up the spilled grain. As they were doing so, it was a very easy matter to close the iron door, and once it clicked closed I turned the key and it was done. Trevor was the first to notice, and he looked at me through the bars with a quizzical kind of look, and I simply said: “The new master has some additional plans for you. After you have picked up the grain, take off your shorts and thongs and push them under the door. He wants to take a look at all of you and without your clothes. Do as you are told, and I will return soon.”

Then, before they could ask any questions, I walked away.

Next, I called for Timothy, and also for Markus. Of course, I needed their help, and their strength. They were both big men, strong men whose muscles had hardened from years in the fields. They had worked for me for a very long time, and like me, they were old enough that they also knew something of their new master. I trusted them completely. I took them on a walk, and explained where things were and how things had to go. Like me, they were not pleased, but they fully understood and I knew I would have their support. Of course, since they were slaves themselves with a single word their own bags could be opened, and that was not lost to either of them.

There is always a keen interest in a slave when another is to be nutted, and together we made a plan and I knew then that with their help I could get this done. They asked if they could use Ramus to help them with the boys, and I agreed. Ramus was the biggest and strongest slave on the ranch, a big brute of a man, and with his strength I was fairly certain that the three of them would have no trouble bringing the boys to the knife when it was time for it to be done.

We decided to put the plan into motion at the noon hour, and I notified the master. The heat of the day offered several advantages, and would tend to relax the scrotums of the boys to be cut, and also would give me direct sunlight without any shadow. And if by some miracle we did get some rain, it would come later in the afternoon after it had all been done.

I sent Timothy and the big slaves out to get Gant, and then I went to the whipping table to check it one more time. I wasn’t sure what I would say to him. I didn’t really want to lie to him, but I also knew he would never willingly let them tie him down if he knew he was going to lose his balls. Gant was one of the slaves I especially liked, with that hardened body of a boy who has just finished sprouting into a man. He was just shy of twenty, and his cock was fully grown and his pubic hair was thick. What made him striking was his light brown hair, which was smooth and silky and reminded me of a woman. I had the thought that I had never seen him express an interest towards the house girls, or any girl for that matter, and I wondered if perhaps he might actually enjoy the master’s cock. He had a very boyish face, in spite of his age, but he was sensitive to it and had sprouted a soft downy mustache over his upper lip to make him look older. Of course, it would soon be for nothing and after I had taken his balls it would stop growing. In a way, it seemed a shame to nut him, but it was not my decision and so I knew I would do what needed to be done.

Alas, while I was trying to figure through the dilemma Timothy appeared in the courtyard, followed by Ramus and Markus, who were escorting Gant but not holding onto him. Gant was sweating, fresh from the fields, and even his hair was wet with it. He did not look pleased, and he knew he was in trouble but the look on his face was more one of shame than fear. As they approached me and the whipping table he slowed his walk. Then, Timothy said to me, “Sire, Gant was caught watching a couple of the boys bathing down at the lake, and he was playing with his pole, spilling his seed instead of doing his work. This happened two afternoons ago, but was just brought to my attention today. Apparently, he has done this before, and seems more interested in shooting his wad than tending the crops. I knew you would want to deal with it.”

That surprised me, and I suspected it was something Timothy had know about for some time but had not mentioned before. I looked up at the brown haired boy, and the face of the nineteen year was bright red then, and he could not look at me. His cute little mustache shimmered in the light of the sun, and he stared at the ground, embarrassed. The reality was that I could care less that he was jerking his meat, and I certainly would never have whipped a boy for doing it, although his interest in the other slave boys certainly had my attention. Still, he had slacked on his work to do it, and it made a good excuse to put him over the bench, and after that I could tell him what he needed to know.

“I see. Is this true Gant? Have you left your work to pleasure yourself while you look at boys?” I asked, my tone serious and the embarrassing question lingering in the air.

He looked up, ashamed. Slowly, he nodded. Then he said “I…I do not do it often. I…I didn’t think anyone was watching. I swear sire, it won’t happen again. I promise.”

I smiled. He was right about that, but of course he did not know the reality of his statement. I kept a hard face, and then turning to Timothy I said: “Well, a quick session on the whipping bench should cure him of his need. Make him ready for the whip and I’ll teach the lesson myself.”

With that, I stood out of the way while they pulled him to the bench. He did not fight them, resigning himself to a whipping, and from the way he allowed them to tie him down I think he probably even felt he deserved it. Still, no slave likes the whip, none of them, and we do it so rarely that when it is done it is something to note. I had whipped him twice before, six lashes when he was fourteen for disobedience and a dozen at seventeen when he had stolen some food from the master’s house. He knew enough not to ask how many lashes he would be getting for pumping his cock as he stared at the bathing boys.

They tied his hands down to the table, and then jerked down his shorts and took his ankles and spread them wide, using the leather straps there to secure each one of them to the base of the whipping table. Then, after the almost twenty year old man was secured well, bent over the table with his legs spread wide, they reached up and jerked off his thong, with a single, quick pull, leaving him totally naked. He tossed his head back and the look of surprise came across his face. Normally, we did not whip a slave nude, and in fact had never done so as far back as I could remember. So, when his thong was pulled clear and his balls were exposed to the air, it caught him by surprise and he looked back, over his shoulder with a look of confusion on his face. He was totally naked at that point and I could tell he had not expected that.

I took a moment to look at his body. The hair growing down the crack of his ass was thick, and surrounded his puckered hole. His cock hung beneath him, the thick cock of a man, but he was not hard and it hung like a thick noodle. From behind him, only the skin-covered tip of it was visible. However, his two eggs hung loose in the heat, hanging down in his bag like a bull’s nuts sag, and his bag was totally exposed to me. He had a big scrotum, which hung loose in the heat and swung as he moved. As he looked backward over his shoulder at me, and I at him, I told him what he deserved to hear.

“The truth Gant is that I am not going to whip you. But the new master of the house has taken a liking to you, and so you have been brought to the bench to have your stones removed. He desires you to be unmanned, and so it will be done. I suggest you accept it, and do not fight or struggle for what you do not own. Perhaps there is some good in it, and if nothing else at least you will no longer be tempted to leave your work to pleasure your cock, and if male sex is what you need then in the future you will certainly have it.”

The teenager’s face went white, and then he started his struggles. He started to fight and struggle against his bonds so hard that the entire table shook, and he started begging then to not do this to him. As he begged me not to cut him, he also bucked his hips and jerked with every muscle he had, but the bonds were secure at that point and there was nothing he could do but just wait for it to be done. God he didn’t want to lose his balls! He struggled so damn hard, and soon his back glistened with sweat as he fought to stay a man.

As he was struggling, his owner, the new patriarch, showed up then, and when Thomas Tanner spied the struggling boy he grinned. He went right up to him, feasting his eyes on the lad’s swinging balls and puckered hole and flowing brown hair. As he came up to the boy, he put his left hand on top of his wet back, and slid it down towards the boy’s ass, working his index finger gently up and down through his crack, circling his hole and toying with the hairs that were thick around it. At the same time he reached under the youth with his right had, and took the nineteen year old’s soft rod into his fist, and slowly began to pump it up and down. As he was doing that, he nodded to me and said “Silence the boy.”

I nodded to Ramus, and he stuffed a rag into Gant’s mouth, and pulled the boy’s head back, which forced the youth to arch his back and push his groin forward, into the table. His cock swelled in the patriarch’s hand. He grunted too, his eyes wide with the feeling, his legs spread wide and his cock in the fist of his new owner. He shook with every muscle in his body, but his struggles accomplished nothing, although the sweat just seemed to pour from his body in the heat of the day. He was struggling so hard and jerking with his hips, and it was almost as if he was fucking the table he was strapped to. His cock filled with blood, from the friction of his thrusting if from nothing else. As I watched his ass going up and down as he struggled, I noticed that the boy’s cock was soon as stiff as an iron rod, and as he struggled it seemed to push itself in and out of the patriarch’s hand even as the man’s fist worked itself over his pole with a twisting motion. I knew the boy would ejaculate soon if nothing changed.

Thomas leaned over to the boy then, and as he stroked the teenager’s cock he whispered to him in a very low voice: “Ah…don’t struggle so hard boy. Feel your hard cock….feel it one last time while a man works the tip and brings you pleasure. Feel it, enjoy it. Yes. That’s it. Yeah! God you’re hard! Let the pleasure build. That’s it. Go ahead, let your cock grow rock hard. Feel my hand? Enjoy it! Are your balls churning yet boy? You know you want to, so go ahead. Shoot your wad. SHOOT YOUR WAD! Pump out your sperm and enjoy it one more time! Your master has your cock, and it is my hand that is bringing you pleasure. Your balls are full of cream, and it will feel good for you to empty them. That’s it. Feel it. Go ahead, fuck my fist. Fuck my fist and shoot your wad! When you do, then we will take your balls.”

Gant shook his head, still struggling, but then even as he continued to fight the bonds and jerk his hips he started to grunt, and as he did his cock began to spew out thick ropes of white jism, spurting out his seed into the ground like droplets of rain. He came and came and came, spraying it out in a violent orgasm as the intense feelings racked his body. Boy he had a big wad! Thomas Tanner grinned when the nineteen year old started to ejaculate, and he worked the boy’s pole even faster while the youth emptied his nuts while we all watched. When the older teenager was finally spent, and his balls had nothing left in them to squirt, Thomas turned back to me and said: “Ok….he’s ready. Empty his bag and get it done. He’s shot his last wad and he doesn’t need his stones anymore.”

I did what had to be done. The small knife was razor sharp, and as I laid it above his right ball and brought it into his scrotum, the nearly twenty year old youth screamed into his gag and his eyes went wide open with disbelief. I hadn’t made the cut in a long time, but I did it well, and his big hen-sized egg popped out in my fist as soon as I had moved the blade. With a simple flick of the knife it dropped into the dirt beneath the table, laying in the remnants of the boy’s final wad. I shifted what remained of his scrotum in my hand, and then moved the knife to the other side of his bag and repeated the process a second time. Again, the cut was perfect, not too shallow but not too deep, and with a little push his last nut popped out of his bag. I put the tip of the knife to the chord, and then with a final flick of the wrist it was done. He grunted as he felt his second ball being stolen, and after that he collapsed over the whipping table, and his sweat covered body lay motionless, all of his energy and fight drained with the loss of his manhood. Suddenly, the mustache he had worked so hard to grow seemed ridiculous on him.

With that, I simply said to the slaves that were helping: “He’s done. Shave the hair off his lip, and then take him down and put him on the clean hay in the storage room I’ve prepared, the one next to where the other boys are waiting. I’ll tend to him after the others are done. As I said that I looked to the dirt between his legs, where his two excised testicles lay sitting in his little puddle of spunk. The patriarch looked at them there as well, and then he said “You can feed those to the hogs, but save the rest of the balls you take for the kitchen.”

I nodded that I would, and then I got up and took the knife back to the stone, to refresh the edge and to wash my hands. The first nutting had gone well, in spite of his strength and power, and I had the thought that if I could steal the balls of an almost twenty year old, then the other boys would be easy. When I had finished with the knife, I took a minute to pickup a silver bowl from the house, which I would use to hold the testicles that still needed to be taken.

Once I had the bowl, I moved out into the center of the courtyard, to where the bail of hay was waiting. The boys were still locked in the storage room, and they were calling through the bars and begging to talk to me. I went to them, and they had stripped as I had told them but now they were bunched up at the door in search of answers. They had seen Gant as he had been dragged by, his limp dick hanging over his empty scrotum, and there was fear and confusion in their eyes. I looked at them, and picked up their clothes, and sat them farther from the door so that they could not reach them. Then I said: “Your new master has taken a special liking to you four. In that sense, you are lucky, because he favors you. But, unfortunately for the lot of you, he does not wish you to keep your balls. You are not the only ones. Gant’s already been castrated, and your turn is next. My advice is simple. Remember you are slaves, and accept it, and do not fight it but instead do his bidding. You will come to accept it in time one way or the other.”

I then left them, and they disappeared from view then, drawing back across the room and into the darker corners. I had no idea what they were saying, but I knew the truth would not sit well with any of them, especially the older boys who knew what their balls could do for them. Still, it was not their decision really, and if their owner wanted them nutted, then they would be nutted. It was as simple as that, and that’s just the way it was, and is, and probably always will be in the lands near Ayzintion City.

Timothy and Markus and Ramus were soon done putting Gant in the healing area, and I nodded to them as I handed them the key to the door that held the others. “Bring them out, one at a time, and we will do them here in the square, over the hay and in front of their door. It will do them good to watch each other being castrated. I do not think it will be necessary to tie them down, but you will have to hold them firmly as I take their balls. It doesn’t matter which you bring first, just take them in whatever order you can.”

Looking at Timothy, I said, “Ramus and Markus will hold their arms, and place them flat on their back over the hay. Then, you will grab the boy’s feet and lift them over his head, holding his heels near his head while I work on his bag. I want each boy doubled over, with his legs held by his head, so that his hole is sticking up in the air and his bag is accessible to me. Once his scrotum is empty then you can let him go, and we will take him to the resting area and then do the next one. And that’s how it will go.”

They all nodded, and there were no questions.

They went to the storage room then, and there was quite a bit of yelling. A few minutes later they were dragging out Gentry, the thirteen year old, and he was pulling and fighting and yelling as they dragged him towards me. He still was in shock I think on what he had just been told, and while I’m not sure he could really comprehend he was going to be castrated whatever it was that was happening he wanted no part of it. Ramus and Markus dragged the young lad right up and onto the bail of hay, flat on his back, holding his two arms firmly so that his shoulders were flat to the hay. He was kicking wildly, but Timothy grabbed his heals then and lifted them, pulling the boy’s legs upward until they came all the way over his head. He pulled him hard enough that his feet were next to his ears, and the young boy’s legs were spread then, and his cute little anus was sticking straight up in the air. The boy was folded in half. The boy’s cock was literally inches above his face, and he was staring at it as it bounced before his eyes. Unlike the last boy I had just cut, there wasn’t a single hair around his hole and his scrotum was much smaller. I couldn’t help but notice the lack of sexual maturity in the young male in front of me and yet as I stared at the boy’s balls the truth was that they made him far more of a man than the older boy that had just been castrated. Of course, that was about to change.

Remembering the master’s words, I found myself hoping he would not squirt, so perhaps I would not end up having to empty his bag and steal his stones. But as I stared at his scrotum it appeared to be a little bigger than I had last remembered it to be, and there was now a very small little group of lengthening hairs just sprouting above his cock that had not been there before.

Once again Thomas Tanner came forward, getting down on his knee to grab the boy’s pole. With the boy folded over and laying on top of the hay, he had to bend over to grab the boy’s cock and it was somewhat awkward to do so. Nevertheless, he picked it up between his thumb and two fingers, and then toyed with it. I looked at him, and noticing my questioning expression the patriarch said to me: “He needs to squirt. A boy needs to feel his master give him pleasure so he can know what is expected of him in the future. I want to make sure all of my eunuchs shoot their wads before you take their balls. There is no hurry to move the knife, and we have lots of time to get this done. Besides, it will be good for the boy to let him watch me jerking his pole. He will be doing it to others in time, and learning what is pleasing is an important lesson for him.”

I looked down at the boy’s thirteen year old body, and his wispy growth of pubic hair was very insignificant. He was so young looking, and I had my doubts if he could even shoot a wad, but his balls were bigger than I had expected and he definitely had that little bit of hair above his prickle that had been absent the last time I had seen him in the baths. Other than that there wasn’t a hair on his entire body though, and even the pits under his arms were as smooth as a baby’s bottom. The way the boy was folded in half, his little cock was directly above his face, and if the boy had been more flexible or his cock had been bigger it might have been possible for him to suck it. As it was, he stared with wide open eyes as Tanner took his dick within his fingers. Tanner worked his pole quickly though, up and down, and the boy’s thin prickle grew hard and eager and was soon jutting a full four inches, pointing directly at the boy’s own face. There was no real thickness to it, a boy’s pole really, but it was stiff and the little knob grew round and purple. His eyes were wide, staring. Tanner spoke to him then: “Feel that feeling boy? Do you feel the tip of your cock quivering? Sure you do! Yeah….enjoy it! When it feels really good, squirt your wad. I bet you have seed in those balls! Go ahead, and shoot it, and feel how good it can feel when you pump out your wad of cream!”

The boy stared, wide-eyed, staring at his little boner as the man worked the skin over his cock up and down his shaft. Tanner pumped the boy’s cock in no great hurry, just working his dick and talking to him and encouraging him to enjoy the feeling the entire time. I was staring between the boys legs, at his bag and his hole, which was puckered closed. Suddenly the boy’s eyes went even wider open, and he gasped, and then his entire body shook and right then a shot of clear semen spurted out of the tip of his young cock, shooting out and hitting him directly in the face. He gasped again, and actually yelped when he squirted, and then his dick shot three times, his young seed shooting onto his chin and the final wad going into his open mouth. As he was ejaculating I watched his anus and it opened and closed as he came, the muscles convulsing within him as he shot his clear wad. From the boy’s expression of surprise it might well have been his first time to ever have had the feeling of doing so.

As soon as his nuts were empty, Thomas Tanner said “OK….he’s ready. He’s had the experience, and now he’s finished needing his balls.”

Ramus wiped the sperm from the boy’s face, and then stuffed the same rag into his mouth, and as soon as he did I wrapped my fist around his young scrotum and pulled his bag outward from his body. It seemed a shame to nut him, unfair in a way, but if his master wanted his bag emptied then I needed to empty it. And, so I did. I carefully pushed in the knife, and Gentry jerked his body and grunted again, but the men held him firm. He banged his head back onto the hay in frustration. The cuts were quick, and almost before the boy knew what was happening it was done. As I excised his orbs I could see that they had definitely started to grow, but even so they were very easy to take, and I did them both in less than thirty seconds and after that his rush through puberty was ended almost before it had begun. I dropped his two little nuts into the silver bowl, and waited for the next boy to be brought to me.

There were three left to go. After they had dragged Gentry to the healing room they went back to the stone storage room to get another boy. Again there was yelling, and I could hear some struggling this time and quite a bit of grunting. I was surprised when they came out with Trevor, and his face was white with fear. He was a tall young man, a strong teenager with a perfect adolescent body and the patriarchs eyes sparkled when he looked at him. At seventeen, the teenage boy was deep into puberty, with patches of sex hair under his arms and over his pole, and a very light coat of hair covering his legs that seemed to emphasize his manhood. As they dragged the red headed boy over the hay and stretched him out his legs were kicking wildly. His nipples were the size of coins, and were pointed, and his chest was totally smooth. His face had several pimples across it, and his cheeks were dimpled. His bright red hair bounced as he struggled.

Ramus and Markus were strong enough though to hold him firmly, and in spite of the teenager’s struggles they held his arms out wide and pushed down on his shoulders to keep him in place. Nevertheless, when Timothy tried to pick up his feet he got kicked, and kicked again. The boy had powerful leg muscles, and the truth was they were too much for any single man to control. It was soon apparent that our plan to just hold him down was not going to work like it had with the younger boy. The struggles went on for several minutes, but the boy would not lay still and allow me to get to his balls. I told him to be still, but he refused me. Finally, Ramus dragged him off of the hay then, until his shoulders were on the ground, and his ass was on top of the bail of hay instead. He pinned his shoulders to the ground, while Markus moved back to help Timothy and together they sat on his legs. It took a few minutes, but they finally had him secured that way, his ass resting on top of the hay and his cock and balls literally jutting to the sky. The teenager tried to struggle even so, but the big slaves were more than a match for him in that position, and with three of them holding him down to the ground with his buttocks over the bail of hay I could finally approach him.

The patriarch stayed where he was and said: “This one’s a fighter, but he’s got a hell of a nice body. Once his balls have been taken he ought to settle down nicely. For now, I think I’ll just watch you take care of him, but make sure you milk him first, and then nut him. Also, boys that fight need to be shown their stones, because they need to see them after they have been taken so they know with certainty that they are gone.”

I didn’t really know what to do, but obviously I was the only one there that was not holding something, and so I just gently sat the knife onto the boy’s stomach and took the boy’s cock in my fist and started to pump it to get it done. I had never jacked off another male in my life, and as I was doing it I felt my own cock stir in my pants. What the fuck? I hoped to God nobody noticed my erection, and I pumped him as fast as I could, just to make him squirt so we could get this done. The boy struggled and fought and begged me to let him go. I just ignored him and stroked his cock up and down, and the feeling slowly came to him. I could feel his seventeen year old cock growing harder and harder as I worked the skin. Soon, he had a very big pole!

Eventually the end grew purple and round, and the tip glistened then as the boy began to ooze out his fluid. I kept pumping, moving the tip in and out of his foreskin, and about a minute or so after that he tossed his head back and began to shoot out his spunk, his seed forced from his balls by the actions of my fist. I pumped him until he was empty, and that took most of a minute until he had nothing left to shoot. He had spurted quite a load out and onto his belly, a lot more than I would have thought he could have. I have no idea why. Perhaps it was because his balls knew it was their last opportunity? Since his shoulders were on the ground, his semen seemed to run down his chest, and it was glistening in the heat of the sun.

At any rate, as soon as he finished squirting, Thomas said to me: “Good….he’s done. That’s the end of it, his last wad’s spent and out of his cock. The boy needs to lose his balls now, so go ahead and empty his bag.”

I picked up the knife I had dropped on his belly, and it surprised me to find it slick with the boy’s seed. I took a rag and dried off the knife, and then I stuffed the cum-soaked cloth into the youth’s mouth to silence him. After that I didn’t hesitate, but instead pushed the knife right into the boy’s scrotum directly above his left ball. With a quick twist it was done, and I had excised his ball and snipped it off with a single movement of the blade. I did the other side then, but this time after I cut out his ball I hesitated slightly before I snipped it off. That moment always seems so important, the moment between manhood and nothing. I let it linger, for a second, and then I took his last nut and it was done. As soon as I had castrated him, I picked up his balls and held them up for the boy to see, just as the patriarch had instructed for me to do. As I was showing them to him, the patriarch said: “I hope you enjoyed your last wad boy. You see your balls? Take a good look, because you’re nut-less now, and your days of shooting sperm are over. From now on, I’ve got the only balls that you need to worry about, and you will learn to pleasure them in whatever way I want and as I often as I tell you.”

The boy’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed, all of the fight gone from him. They took him to where the others had been taken, and I added his seventeen year old testicles to the bowl. Then once again they went back to get the next boy. This time they came out with the blond fourteen year old, and he was struggling but compared to Trevor who we had just nutted his fight was pretty insignificant. He went over on his back pretty easily, and Timothy had his legs up in the air and the boy bent double without any problem.

His cock was quite a bit larger than Gentry’s had been, and his balls were round and full and he was well into manhood. What a difference a year of growth can make when the boys are that age! There was a blond wisp of hair across his upper lip, and his blue eyes sparkled as he struggled. His teenage cock was rock hard, jutting really, a five inch boner bouncing with an eagerness that surprised me. Perhaps watching the others getting castrated had aroused him? Whatever it was, he was rock hard, and as they held him down he jerked and fought.

Again Tanner came forward, but when he saw how hard the boy was and how close his cock was to his own lips, he laughed. Then he said: “Pull on his legs some more, and let the boy swallow his own rod. He’s got an ability few boy’s have, and I think he should make the most of it while he still can.”

The boy started to protest, but as the big men pulled downward on his legs harder his eager cock slipped into his open mouth, and the look of surprise on the youth then was not lost on anyone. Tanner then laughed, and said “Suck your pole boy……suck your own cock. You hear me? Suck your cock! That’s it….DO IT!”

The boy’s eyes were so wide at that point, as his lips were pursed around his own sexual rod. Tanner reached in and placed two fingers on the boy’s shaft, where it was growing out of his body, and then he put his other hand on the back of the boy’s head and lifted him at the neck, to force his rod deeper down his throat. The boy gagged, but he kept sucking, and we all watched then as Tanner forced him to bob his mouth over his own rod. I had never seen anything like it, before or since, and it went on for several minutes. A couple of times Tanner let the boy rest, but even then he made him use his tongue and lick the end of his cock until it was glistening and wet. Then, he would hold the back of his neck again and push forward. It took a long time, but at some point I think the boy gave up fighting him, and after that he seemed to suck with more earnest and once he started doing so it was not long before he shot his load. His white jism was shooting out of his young cock and all of it initially went directly into is own mouth.

I watched it all, and that slave boy literally shot his load right down his own throat. His eyes were wide open in surprise as he shot his spunk, and he was gagging as he was ejaculating. As he was shooting Tanner took his hand off the back of his head, and when he did the boy’s spurting cock popped out from between his lips and shot onto his own face, his teenaged cock spewing cum everywhere. All told, the boy squirted out an impressive load that jetted cream into his hair, his eyes, and across his face, although I think he swallowed quite a bit more of it as well. By the time he was done it was a hell of a mess actually, especially coming from a fourteen year old. When he had finally emptied his nuts, the patriarch said “This boy sure can shoot a wad! He’s good at cock sucking too, and I like him! Well, he might not be eager to lose his balls, but after watching that I’m eager to get it done!”

Thomas did not gag the boy, but lifted up on his head and made the teenager take his just-spent prickle back into his mouth and suck on it while he was castrated. I grabbed the boy’s scrotum and took it into my fist, and Tanner said to the boy: “Keep sucking that cock of yours….don’t you dare spit it out. Don’t bite down on it though, unless you want to lose it.”

As he said that I filleted open the boy’s bag with a single curving slice that took the blade right across the back of his bag, and his two balls popped out as I squeezed on his cut scrotum. The boy’s eyes were wide open with disbelief, and in spite of having been warned he bit down when I flicked the knife but immediately stopped doing so when he felt his own teeth on his cock. While we never gagged him, his own cock served that purpose quite effectively. Still, the boy cried out “Oh…OH….OHHHH” right after he was cut, and from the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down I think his pole squirted a second little shot of jism that went down his throat when I took his balls. Right after he cried out his balls dropped into my hand and he was done. It happened so fast the boy hardly knew what was happening and I honestly think he was castrated before he even realized it. I dropped his balls in the bowl, and they seemed small and insignificant compared to the older teenager we had just done. Even so, they were larger than the thirteen year old’s that were also there, and it was impossible not to compare them.

Finally, there was only the Slavic youth to go. Thinking of the problems I had with the stronger males, I changed my mind about trying to do him over the hay, and so I said “Bring him to the table. We will do him on the whipping table, like Gant. He’s a strong boy, stronger than Trevor, and I know this one well and he’s not going to be very willing to let me take his balls.”

It was a fortunate decision, because as soon as they went for him he was fighting them hard. It took several minutes just to get him out of the storeroom, and when they did I was surprised when he came out with a full fledge boner. But it wasn’t his boner that got my attention. No, it was the desperation with which he fought to keep his balls that was something to see, and Gregory kicked and punched and screamed like there was no tomorrow coming. God he was strong! As they finally dragged him out into the sun he was struggling so hard I don’t think they could have ever held him down. Boy he did not want to lose his balls and he was yelling so loud he made sure everyone knew it!

“NO! NOOOO! NO FUCKING WAY! YOU HEAR ME! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”

“YOU CAN’T! I WILL NOT LET YOU! I WILL NOT! I WILL NOT!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!!!!!!!” he yelled.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” he screamed.

I had them pull him up onto the whipping bench on his back, and secure him facing outward. With him struggling so hard I did not want to have to try and do him from behind. I wasn’t sure the whipping bench would work that way, but as it turned out it worked fine in that manner. In spite of his protests, the eighteen year old could not keep the three of them from dragging him to the table, and even though he kicked like a horse and struggled like a madman they eventually got the straps tightened and his legs and arms spread. He still fought, jerking the bonds so hard that the entire table rattled, and they had to tie a couple of extra ropes around his knees to pull his legs apart to stop him from shaking the table. But once he was tied down, then I knew he could be done, and of course he knew it too.

The whipping bench was not so large as to accommodate him laying flat, so that only his arms and shoulders were pulled down to the table. He was bent at the waist, so that his legs were tied down the face of the table, his feet flat on the ground and spread wide, tied in place so that he could not move them.

He was half sitting on the edge of the bench, and with his hands tied to the bench and his shoulders flat to the table, the effect was to push his groin outward, which made it easily accessible. The boy’s cock was jutting, sticking upward at a 45 degree angle and his foreskin was drawn back, exposing the big purple end of his cock. He had a fat cock, and long, and as dick’s go his was one of the biggest and thickets poles I’ve ever seen on any male of any age. God he had a big cock! It was at least ten full inches long, and we all stared at his impressive teenage pole.

The boy’s arms were secured over his head to the two sides of the table, but even though his shoulders were flat he was lifting up his neck and head watching everything. As I approached the boy, Thomas Tanner said: “Slave, you do not know your place. You dare to think your balls are yours, when they are really mine and you only carry them between your legs because your owner has let you do so. Be satisfied that my father allowed you to keep them for eighteen years. But, I am your master now, and I have decided I want your scrotum empty, and so it will be emptied.”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF! YOU HEAR ME? LEAVE ME ALONE! DAMN YOU! DON’T! LET ME GO YOU BASTARD! LET ME GO! OH FUCK! DON’T YOU DARE TAKE MY BALLS!” he screamed.

I almost gasped at the way he was addressing the patriarch, but Thomas Tanner did not seem to get angry and the words of the desperate boy did not stir his emotions. Still, I knew it was time, and the sooner we got a rag in his throat the better it would go.

As I stared to approach him with the knife he turned his attention to me, and began to beg in earnest: “OH LEON! PLEASEEEEEEEE. I DON’T WANT TO BE CASTRATED! I WANT TO GET MARRIED! PLEASE STOP! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! PLEASE! TALK TO JULIA, ….THE GIRL IN THE KITCHEN! LEON…PLEASE, HELP ME! I WAS GOING TO ASK TO MARRY HER! OH DON’T CUT ME NOW LEON! PLEASE DON’T! WAIT! LEON….ASK HER….ASK HER! WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER…..I LOVE HER! I WANT HER TO HAVE MY SON’S! OH GOD PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY BALLS!”

Thomas Tanner said to him: “You are too young to have a wife. Way too young! Wives are for men, and you are a boy. If you were a man, I might have let you marry her, but you are not, and boys do not get married on my ranch!”

He looked to the patriarch then, and screamed: “I’M NOT A BOY! I’M NOT! I…I’VE BEEN FUCKING HER! I’VE BEEN FUCKING HER DAMN IT! ASK HER SIRE…..I KNOW SHE WILL MARRY ME!!!!!!!! I’M A MAN SIRE! I’VE BEEN FUCKING HER! PLEASE….YOU MUST LET ME MARRY HER!!!! OH GOD…YOU CAN’T TAKE MY BALLS! SHE’S MINE! I’VE BEEN FUCKING HER! I’M NOT A BOY…I’M NOT!”

Thomas Tanner laughed. Then he said: “So, you’ve been doing a little fucking on the side have you? A boy slave has been fucking without my permission? That’s against the rules boy, and I know you know that! Slave boys aren’t allowed to fuck women. Shame on you!”

The trussed out boy jerked his arms and strained with every muscle to pull them free. I saw him buck his hips then, violently, trying to pull the ropes from his legs and as he jerked and fought his bonds his cock seemed to fuck the air. He was struggling so damn hard! “PLEASE SIRE….SHE’S MY GIRL! I WANT TO MARRY HER!”

The patriarch laughed again. Then he asked: “So, did you enjoy that illegal pussy boy? I bet you did, but shame on you! Listen young man, your body is mine, your cock is mine, and your balls are mine. You need to learn that, because you need to be able to do what I will have you do, whenever I will have you do it. If I wanted you to fuck a woman, then I would order you to fuck her. If I wanted your cock in a woman’s snatch then you would put it there even if you didn’t want to. If I wanted you to father a child, then you would fuck whatever woman’s pussy I told you to fuck and you would do it every single day until you got her pregnant whether you wanted to do it or not. But, you need to understand this as well. That’s not what I want for you, and what I want for you is what you will do. What I want for you is for you to spread your legs like a woman and be fucked like one and that’s what you will learn to do.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” he screamed.

Thomas Tanner laughed. And then he said: “GET USED TO IT BOY! YOU HEAR ME? I OWN YOU BOY….AND YOU WILL DO WHAT I SAY, NOT WHAT YOU WANT! AND, FOR YOUR INFORMATION BOY, I WANT YOUR HOLE. YOUR FUCKING DAYS WITH A WOMAN ARE OVER! YOU’RE GOING TO BE MY WOMAN NOW!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO I WON’T YOU BASTARD! NO MATTER WHAT I’LL NEVER LET YOU FUCK ME! NEVER!” he screamed again, his eyes wide open as he contemplated his new role in life.

Then, the patriarch said “Gag him” and I nodded to Ramus and then he was stuffing the rag into the teenager’s mouth to stop his yelling.

The patriarch looked at me and laughed even louder than he had been. This one’s got a hell of an eager dick, and he sure is spirited. I like him! He say’s he likes women, but he sure grew hard watching the other boys lose their balls, and in spite of what he says his cock is eager still and there is no woman around. In fact, I think he’s actually eager to be castrated, if you ask me, and I suspect his hole is tight and willing, even if the boy himself is not. So, he says he’s been fucking a woman does he? Well, let’s see how he enjoys another man’s fist compared to a woman’s cunt.”

With those words said he approached the struggling youth, and then he reached out and wrapped his hand around the eighteen year old’s rock hard shaft that was jutting so prominently upward and into the air. The boy screamed into his gag, and shook his head side to side, but that only made the patriarch laugh again, and then he started pumping the boy. As he did he said: “Go ahead boy….feel your master’s hand on your dick. Feel it. Enjoy it. Go ahead. Enjoy my fist. What do you think? Is my hand better than a pussy? No? You sure are hard! Feel my fist! You’re enjoying it boy, you know you are! Admit it! Satisfying cocks is your destiny, not feeling a woman’s pussy. That’s it! Fuck my fist, not some slave girl’s cunt. Empty those balls. Shoot your sperm and let me watch you do it. I want to see you pump out your wad and empty those nuts just for me, and not for some woman. Go ahead. Do it! Shoot! Spill your seed! Enjoy a man’s fist and then shoot that wad! GO AHEAD BOY, SPILL YOUR SEED. FUCK MY FIST. FUCK MY FIST! FUCK MY FIST DAMN YOU AND SHOOT YOUR WAD SO LEON CAN CASTRATE YOU!”

The boy’s eyes were so damn wide, and he stared at his dick and the man’s hand that was pumping it. He struggled and fought, but in the end it was way beyond anything he could really control, and after about four minutes or so the teenager tossed his head back and closed his eyes. I saw him bite his lower lip, and he started to shake his head side to side. Then, suddenly, his eyes opened again and he looked down at his dick and then he ejaculated. It fired out of his cock, and God he had a huge wad!

He shot out his load into that room in front of all of us, in squirt after squirt, and his cock had such pressure behind it that his sperm shot out several feet from his body. He grunted as he ejaculated, and after he started shooting he looked down and stared at his cock and watched it betray him as it shot out his teenage jism, milked from his balls by his master in spite of his best efforts to prevent it. His master kept pumping him, even after the boy was empty, and he pumped him and pumped him and his cock stayed hard. The patriarch was laughing as he was doing it, and then he said “Go ahead boy, you can do it again. With a thick proud cock like yours, I bet you have another wad stored up and waiting for that woman of yours. She won’t need it now, and so I want you to give it to me instead!”

The boy screamed into his gag, and grunted and jerked and thrashed within his bonds, the teenager’s over-stimulated penis way too much for him to handle as his cock was still being played with like it was the master’s toy. The master continued to talk to him: “I bet your girl never got two loads out of those balls of yours at the same time, did she? But you’re staying hard for me, and for a man’s fist! You sure are! DO IT! CUM AGAIN! SHOOT ANOTHER LOAD AND SHOW US THE KIND OF MAN YOU REALLY ARE! SHOW EVERYONE HOW MUCH YOU ENJOY FUCKING MY FIST!”

The boy shook his head side to side and grunted, his eyes wide open as the end of his cock was being rubbed by the patriarch’s thumb, the master’s entire fist continuing to pump and to twist his pole at the same time. It was more stimulation that the eighteen year old had ever felt in his life, and a minute or so later the end of his pole grew fatter, and suddenly the boy gasped again and out came a second wad. His seed didn’t shoot out this time, but instead his sperm pumped out of his cock more like a spring flows from the ground, his white cream pumping into the dirt as it was milked from his balls. Nevertheless, it was another huge wad of semen, and I had no idea how his balls had held that much. I had never seen a boy come twice, two big loads right in a row, and it surprised me when he did so.

Still, the patriarch didn’t stop, but worked his thumb over the wet slick end of his dick, through the tiny lips there that defined his dick’s piss slit, rubbing his thumb over and around the fat head of his cock even as the sperm came up his shaft and out his little hole. It was way too much! The master’s thumb was clearly driving the boy crazy with the intensity of the stimulation! The boy thrashed wildly with the feeling, his super-sensitive cock more than he could handle. He screamed and begged for him to stop, but his master kept stimulating the end of his pole continuously even after he had shot his second wad. The master was in no hurry, and he enjoyed watching the boy squirm and jerk against his bonds, shaking the table as the end of his cock continued to be stimulated. This went on for several more minutes, but eventually the boy’s cock finally started to wilt, in spite of the attention that was still taking place. Only then, as his boner began to relax and his cock lost its rigidity, did the patriarch say: “OK….I think he’s finally spent himself. Yeah, his cock’s starting to wilt, so it looks like his balls are empty. You can take them now, and he sure won’t be needing them anymore.”

As I approached the boy he said: “The sooner he has them gone, the better off this one will be. Get it done, but make sure he feels it when you take his stones.”

I went up between the boys legs then, and hefted his scrotum. His cock was wilting rapidly now, but the patriarch hadn’t let it go and he was holding it upward, out of the way and off of his balls, still rubbing the sensitive tip slowly now, and sliding his thumb over the slick end in continuous circles. The stimulation was still causing the boy to thrash about, jerking his hips upward as he tried to get his cock out of the way. As I hefted his scrotum it was full and very heavy. God the boy had a fat sac! His nuts were big, and for a barely turned eighteen year old he had the sac of a much older man. There was a lot of weight to it, and the thick hair that was growing up from his nuts and around his hole was jet black and moist with his sweat. He was shaking, and I could see the sweat glistening off his belly and running right down into his pubic hair. He clearly wasn’t enjoying the way his master was playing with the end of his cock. Of course, he was going to enjoy the feel of the knife a whole lot less.

I pulled downward on his scrotum, and then I looked at him and he looked back at me. Our eyes locked, and then I said: “I’m sorry Gregory, but it’s your destiny to have your scrotum emptied. You don’t control it, and I don’t either.” Then, while he watched me I pushed the knife into his bag, just above his right ball. I hesitated, and he felt the steel, and as he tossed his head back and grunted I moved the blade behind his ball, slicing downward and opening up the side of his purse with a single, well-practiced motion. His eyes were oh-so-wide then and he grunted loudly into his gag.

Gregory could feel it when I pushed out his big right nut, and I set the knife against it and then I hesitated one more time. His body was so damn tense, and I didn’t want to hurt him more than necessary, and I wanted to give him a warning before it was done. I said “Get ready boy, I’m going to take your right ball now.”

He shook his head side to side, his eyes wide open. He looked down at me again, and his eyes were begging me.

I tried to smile, and then I moved my wrist and the knife took his ball just as I had promised.

“URGGG” he grunted into his gag, and then he shuddered, and right after that his entire body seemed to convulse, and just as that happened a bead of white cream anointed the tip of his dick where the patriarch was rubbing it. He shook his head and grunted even louder, and the bead of semen started to expand out the tip of his cock, pushed out by more semen that seemed to ooze from the tip. Was he cumming again? I don’t really know, but in any case he only had one ball left at that point. He shook violently as he felt himself half-castrated, and he banged his head up and down into the table with his frustration as he felt it being done.

I shifted my grip, and went to the other side of his big scrotum, and then I cut into his bag and pushed out his last testicle. The strange part was that his cock seemed to sense what it was about to lose, because it started to grow stiff again, which really surprised me. The patriarch was surprised too, and laughed, and then he said “I think he likes being castrated. He’s getting another boner.”

Just before I pulled the knife and turned him into a eunuch Thomas said: “Let’s give him a second here….perhaps he’s got another wad hidden in that ball?”

Then he pumped the boy’s cock, and the moment lingered, between manhood and nothing, between having balls and being ball-less. The teenager grew rock hard, in spite of only having a single nut. Things stood this way for a minute, then two, and then some more white semen seemed to begin to ooze out the tip of his cock, pumped out from inside of him. It wasn’t a big wad, but it oozed out of his dick and down his shaft. As he did that, the patriarch said to me: “This boy’s quite the shooter. Even half castrated, he’s still pumping sperm from a proud dick. That’s something few men can say!”

The boy shuddered, and his ten-inch cock pumped out sperm for a few more seconds, and after that he was done. Then, turning to the boy and still sliding his fist over the boy’s slick cock, the patriarch said: “OK….your nuts are finally empty! I suggest you remember the feeling. Because, your days of having stiff cocks and feeling a heavy scrotum between your legs are over. And, in case you haven’t already figured it out, you’ve already fucked your last pussy.”

Then, he looked at me and said: “Get it done.”

The boy screamed “NOOOOOOOOO” into the gag that was stuffing his throat, but in spite of his yelling I flicked the knife and it was over. As I did he tossed his head back into the table, and thrust his groin upward as if he was fucking the knife that had cut him. Perhaps it was a final attempt by his body to fuck something, while he still could, even if all of his sperm had gone wasted into the dirt in front of his widespread legs. When he felt the knife take his manhood, he just stared straight ahead then, without another word being spoken.

He just stared in shock, the feeling of being unmanned consuming him. I started to say something, but the patriarch caught me off guard. He was standing up then, and pulling open his pants, and then before I could react he looked to Ramus and Timothy and said “Turn the boy over now, and tie him back down to the bench. I have another lesson to teach him, and when it is done then you can take him to the others.”

I started to protest. The boy had just been cut, and right now he needed to have his rest and to be given a chance to heal. But Thomas Tanner looked at me sternly, and said “Silence Leon. Your work is done and it is not your place to tell me what to do with my slaves.”

I wasn’t stupid and so I did what I was told, and having been put down so abruptly in front of the others all I could do at that point was to step back and out of the way. There was nothing I could do at this point to stop any of it, and that was clear. I stared and watched, and it took less than a minute for the other slaves to turn Gregory over and to get him tied back to the whipping bench, face down, with his legs spread and his hole exposed. Then, as we all watched, the patriarch lowered his pants down to his knees, and reached within his thong and pulled out his sexual organ. I stared then, his big cock rock hard and jutting, the end of his pole slicked up with precum. The man had a big set of balls, and his cock was eager, jutting up from his thick nest of pubic hair. I didn’t know what to say. He was clearly going to fuck the just-castrated teenager.

Thomas Tanner looked at me, and then perhaps to explain himself he said: “He dared to defy me. He fucked a girl without permission. He dared to call me a bastard, and he told me to go and fuck myself. And, he told me he would never let me fuck him. Well, I’m not into working my own pole, not when I have a hot ass like his nearby. He needs to learn his place, and this will help teach him his place in life. I’ll let you untie him after I’ve had his hole, but I want him to fully understand who his master is, and if nothing else it will help him to forget his girl. After today, the only hole he needs to be concerned with fucking is his own.”

I didn’t know what to do, but there was really nothing I could do. The patriarch wanted the slave, and if he wanted him then he would have him and it was as simple as that. So, I just watched, as the patriarch took his fist which was still slick with the boy’s sperm and wrapped it around his own cock, greasing it up with the remains of the boy’s final wad. Then, he leaned forward and pushed his slick cock into his castrated slave. He entered the boy slowly, and then started fucking him, gently at first but after a few minutes he increased the pace. Soon his cock was ramming into the new eunuch’s virgin hole deep and fast. Gregory just stared in disbelief, as he felt his owner’s fat cock in his ass, grunting as he felt each thrust. He stared with shame at the wall in front of him while we all watched him be mounted like a whore. His ball-less cock grew stiff though, which surprised me, and the end drooled a clear fluid which I’m not sure was semen exactly but it certainly was sexual in nature. The boy’s eyes stared unmoving throughout all of it, until the man fucking him spurted out his thick wad of seed and filled the boy’s bowels with spunk. As his hole was being filled with sperm, Gregory closed his eyes in shame and took the load, feeling the hot semen jet into his prostate with a vengeance. I knew right then that he’d never be the same, and the fight was gone from him forever.

As they were untying him the master said to me, in a voice loud enough to make sure Gregory heard, “Have his balls taken to the kitchen, along with the others, and tell Julia to sauté them up for me. Make sure you give the bowl directly to her, and make sure she knows whose balls they are. She is an expert cook, and I’m in the mood for a hearty lunch. Tell her to make it so, and to call me as soon as they are cooked and ready.

And so it was done. The master had his lunch, and Julia lost her interest in the boy that had been fucking her. That afternoon the rains came, and in the weeks that followed the crops grew lush and thick and the harvest was saved. Gregory was soon spreading his legs on a nightly basis, and sucking the seed from the master’s balls whenever he wanted it done. Gant too could be heard at night, his grunts timed to the master’s thrusting cock, his own hole regularly filled with his owner’s wad. Without any question a new master was in the house, and in the years to come the castrated boys would get to know him in ways that the other slaves would not. At first they would hate it, but in time they would learn their role as so many other slaves in the city had learned theirs before them, and the ranch would prosper and in time none of the rest of us would think much about it. In the lands near the city of Ayzintion, that’s just the way it is.

[Authors note: © Copyright January, 2007. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. If you liked the story, please write and tell me. Thanks. -Nathan// [email protected]]