Four boys, two of them already castrated, set out one weekend to get the other two done. The weekend didn't go as they had planned.

Tommy

I didn't think I wanted to be a girl, but they are giving me estrogen, and I'm growing tits. I like them. I almost wish they would make me a pussy, but they won't. At least, I no longer have a dick or balls. I love being smooth down there. I love how I look in the mirror. When I woke after my operation and saw I no longer had cock or balls, I felt complete for the first time in my life. I had lost my male genitals, but losing them made me complete.

Today, I would get my first client. I was scared, but I didn't think I would hate him as Kim hates his. He doesn't like any man that has balls. I just never wanted mine. They were fine on other boys and men, as far as I was concerned. Unlike Kim, I liked being around naked boys in Gym class. When I did jack off, I did, thinking about one of them fucking me. Before he was castrated, I had a crush on Shaun. I would have sucked his dick and let him fuck me. He fucked Kim before deciding to be castrated. I wish he had fucked me.

Now, that I was taking estrogen, I was horny, but it a different horny than I was, when I had balls. Being horny then, made me jack off. Now, all I thought about was getting fucked.

I hoped my client was nice and wasn't too old.

I opened the door and walked in.

He was probably thirty, had a little paunch, but it wasn't anything a little less food and a few workouts wouldn't cure. He was actually nice looking. Naked, he sat on the edge of the bed. I was naked, of course. I'd forgotten what it was like to wear clothes. Now, that I no longer had a dick or balls, I liked being naked.

"God damn," he said. "You are a beauty."

I felt my face burn; I guess I blushed. I bowed slightly, pleased by his compliment.

"Thank you, Master," I said, giving the response I'd been told to give. Always call your clients, "Master."

"How may I serve you?"

"Are you really a virgin?" he asked.

"Yes, Master, you will be my first. Please forgive my inexperience."

I had watched enough videos to know what to do, but that wasn't the same as doing it.

"God, you look like a girl, but you're really a boy?"

"I was a boy," I said, "I'm a eunuch, now."

Kneeling in front of me, he examined my crotch.

"I see the scar. You have a beautiful bush. The hair is so silky. It's not course at all."

"Thank you, Master. I'm glad it pleases you."

He sat back on the bed, patting the spot beside him.

"Come, sit beside me." I did. "What's your name?"

"Tommy, my lord."

No one had told me to call him that, but for now, for the next hour, at least, he was my lord, my master. I was here to serve and please him; this is what I was meant to do. This, I knew, was what I was meant to be: a eunuch, a plaything for men, for men with cocks and balls.

"You have a magnificent cock, my lord."

That pleased him. He smiled.

"Would you like for me to kiss it?"

"I want to kiss you," he said. "Is that permitted?"

I guess some whores don't like to be kissed, but I wasn't a whore, I was a slave, his slave for the next hour. He could do with me as he pleased. I told him that:

"I'm your slave, Master. Do with me as you will. I'm honored that you wish to kiss me."

I said what I thought a eunuch of old, a eunuch slave of the ancient past, would say to his master. I had read everything I could find, so I would know how to act and what to say. I said it using the formal speech I thought they would use. To my mind, I was one of them. Kim hated being used, but I was here to serve. I was what I was meant to be, not just a eunuch - I was meant to be that - but a eunuch pleasure slave.

Kim wanted to leave; James and Shaun wanted to leave; but I never wanted to leave this place. Somewhere else, people would think me a freak. Here, men paid $1000 an hour for my services. That I never got any of it didn't matter. I was here to serve; a slave wasn't paid for his service.

I don't know why I liked so being a slave, but I did. Like some boys - men even - born to be eunuchs, some of us were born to be both, eunuchs and slaves. I didn't resent men with their cocks and balls; I didn't want them on myself; but I loved them on men, and on boys, too, I guess, but I especially loved them on men, on this man, anyway. He was the first man, whose cock I had ever seen, and his cock was hard for me. It wanted me, almost as much as I wanted it.

It frightened me some; it must have been seven inches, and other than mine, other than the tiny cock I had, before it was cut off, it was the first cock I'd ever seen hard. I knew the first time would hurt; but there was some lube in the drawer in the end table beside the bed - Kim had told me there was - and if I asked, he would probably let me use it.

He kissed me. It wasn't my first kiss; I had practiced kissing with my friends. I loved kissing them; I had kissed Shaun when he was ill, but those had been loving kisses, mostly planted on his cheeks and on the corner of his mouth. Only when he was better, did we kiss full on, tongue and all.

My friends, all of them, liked kissing me, but with my tits and my smooth crotch, I was no threat to them. Kim's kisses were the most passionate, but he had made love to Shaun, before Shaun was cut, and he knew how to kiss. James, like me, was just learning. He had never kissed before. He and Kevin Shultz had jacked each other off, but they had never tried anything else.

My master stuck his tongue in my mouth. Tentatively, I stuck mine in his. I didn't want him to think me too presumptuous, but it seemed the natural thing to do. He didn't seem to mind.

His hand dropped to my crotch; he rubbed it. I gasped when he stoked my pee hole. I hadn't realized it was so sensitive. I wrapped my hand around his cock: it was magnificent. It was his turn to gasp.

He laid me back on the bed.

"God damn, you're beautiful. You're the sexiest creature I've ever seen. God, I want you."

His mouth dropped to one of my tits. I felt his hot mouth on it. I thought I was going to cum, then and there. The estrogen had made my tits sensitive: them and my pee hole seemed more sensitive than the head of my cock had ever been. His hand was still rubbing my crotch.

"Master! You keep doing that, and I'll cum."

I didn't know whether eunuch slaves were supposed to cum; I was afraid it would anger him, if I did, but if he kept it up, kept rubbing my crotch, kept his hot mouth on my nipple, I knew I would.

I hoped he would let me; for the first time in my life, I wanted to cum, knowing it would be different - knowing somehow it would be different - a real orgasm, not just a twinge in my dick and groin, over too soon - accompanied by guilt - as I shot my seed. I no longer had seed to shoot, but this orgasm, if he allowed me it, would me more than that, more than all the others combined. I knew it would be.

He didn't stop; he wanted me to cum; and knowing that he did, I came.

I heard someone screaming. It was me, I think; but I was no longer thinking. I was the orgasm. I wasn't having an orgasm, I was the orgasm. Don't expect me to describe it for you. I can't describe the indescribable. I don't have the words for it.

He was shaking me.

"Are you all right, Kid?"

I had either passed out, or I had been transported somewhere else by the orgasm. I nodded.

"That was some orgasm."

"I'm sorry," I said, panting.

"Don't be sorry, Kid. I loved it. Shit! What an orgasm. I used to be envious of the orgasms some women I fucked had, but none of them ever had one like that."

"But, I'm here to please you. I live to please you."

I was slowly coming back from where I'd been.

"Kid, you pleased me; but now, I need to please myself."

Crawling between my legs, he stuck his finger in my hole. I was unable to restrain a gasp.

"Fuck! You're tight."

I gestured toward the end table with a nod of my head.

"There's some lube in the drawer."

Kim had told me they kept lube there.

He got the lube, squeezed some out into the palm of his hand, set the tube down and spread some on the middle finger of his other hand. He lubed his cock with the rest. It glistened.

Sticking his lubed finger in my hole, he said:

"You're still tight. This might hurt. Are you all right with that?"

"Master, I want your cock inside me. I don't care how much it hurts. I want it to hurt."

"You want me to hurt you?"

"Yes, I'm your slave. My life is yours. Do with it as you wish. Place your hands around my throat; choke the life out of me, when you cum. Do what you wish with me."

I don't know where that came from, but I meant it. I was his, to fuck or to kill, preferably to fuck and to kill, if that's what he wanted. I was his slave; for that hour, I was his slave. He could do with me as he willed.

"I don't want to kill you, Tommy, but I do want to fuck you. Be careful what you tell guys; you might find one to take you up on that offer. Somehow, it's tempting, even though I would never do it."

My hole well lubed, he slid up, pausing to kiss one of my tits. His chest was hairy. I loved how it tickled me. I glanced down: my tits lay flat, little more than the nipples sticking out. They weren't big, anyway.

He scooted up farther. The hair on his chest tickled my nose. Kim hated for men to have hairy chests, but I loved it. I wanted my men to be men.

I felt the head of his cock press against my hole. I raised my legs. He reached down to guide it in. He pressed harder. I tried to hold in the scream when he pushed it past my sphincter, but I couldn't. My scream didn't stop him. He was inside me; all seven inches of him were inside me.

I had never felt anything like it. His cock filled me. The pain only added to the pleasure. Is there that much difference between pain and pleasure, anyway? Can't pain also be pleasure, or be, at least, an adjunct to pleasure?

He fucked me: I came again, screaming as I did before. He shot his load into my ass and lay on top of me resting. He was heavy; but he supported some of his weight. I didn't care. He could have smothered me, and I wouldn't have cared.

There had been times I had wanted to kill myself, had I not been able to get rid of my cock and balls, but this was different. What better death was there than one accompanied by such an orgasm or a death given you by your master? A slave could ask for no more. No one lives forever, anyway.

The hour was over too soon. He was spent; I was spent; but neither of us wanted it to end.

"I'll be back," he told me.

"I love you, Master," I said; and for then, I did love him. I would love a different master tomorrow, but for then, for that hour, I had loved him.

"Was it terrible?" Kim asked me, when I returned.

"No, it was fantastic."

"You are fucking weird, Tommy," he said.

I just smiled.