“You have all been placed in jeopardy by your parents,” I told the forty sullen teenage boys that made up my captive audience. “I’m sure you all know what that means but part of my job is to officially inform you of the process, so please just be patient and save any questions that you may have until I am finished.” They were still talking among themselves, ignoring me, when I dropped the other shoe. “Within the next sixty days most of you will be castrated. Rather you lose your balls or keep them will depend entirely upon your behavior. Please pay attention now while I explain the situation.” The room grew suddenly quiet as forty beardless, adolescent boys slowly moved their hands to protectively cover their genitals, and forty hairless asses squirmed uncomfortably in their seats, imagining the worst.

“As you all no doubt remember from your history class, back in 2010 President Hillary Clinton sponsored the Constitutional Amendment that mandated population control for our country. Thereafter each couple was allowed to produce only two functional offspring, one male and one female,” I told the group, explaining that ‘functional’ meant capable of reproduction. “Additional children of the same sex were required to be sterilized by castration for the males or tubal ligation for the females before puberty.”

“Occasionally parents realize too late that the offspring they have selected to carry the family name forward are unsuitable for the task, or as we should probably say, not good enough. Sometime the boys turn out gay and are not capable or interested in normal reproduction”, I told the class, knowing that the shoe probably fit some of the boys perfectly. “In other cases their sons exhibit certain physical or personality traits that cause the parents to wish for a more suitable father for their eventual grandchildren.” A couple of extremely obese boys blushed, now fully aware of why they had been sold down the river. “In these cases the parents want a second chance to produce a more worthy heir. Some of you have younger brothers who are still intact and can carry on the family name, and some of your parents wish to conceive another child who will be more suitable than the first born. Either way, the law is clear: Only one male offspring per household is allowed to be able to reproduce. A simple vasectomy would keep the extra males from breeding but that wouldn’t be fair to the available females, as they could be deceived into believing that a potential mate was a capable breeder, so all non-breeding males must be castrated.” That wasn’t really news to the boys; all of their lives they had been around tall, rather chubby kids and young men with beardless faces and high, feminine voices. These people of negative gender were usually laughed at and ridiculed by teenagers.

I paused for a few moments to let that sink in before giving them the good news. “The law requires that twenty-five percent of adolescents placed in jeopardy by their parents be pardoned, so as to speak, and be placed in the general breeding pool, so ten of you will be allowed to remain intact. You will all live here for the next two months, after which time, based on intelligence, behavior, and various other criteria the ten people best suited for enrichening the gene pool will be selected. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” a surly voice called out. “It seems like a chickenshit deal to me. I mean, having to kiss someone’s ass just to be able to live like a normal human is meant to live. Well, I won’t let any one cut me! I’ll kill myself first and take a couple of you cocksuckers with me!

I was kind of hoping that one of the boys would cop an attitude. An early demonstration did wonders towards keeping the rest of the kids in line. He was immediately seized and brought to the center of the stage, right beside me, before the other boys had a chance to rally behind the loud spoken would-be savior. A tempered glass curtain immediately dropped from the ceiling to separate the stage and its occupants from the now unruly crowd. “Please observe,” I said into the microphone, knowing it was loud enough to drown out their shouts.

The struggling boy was summarily stripped naked and placed on a tilted table in full view of the auditorium. His hands were secured to the head of the table and a stout belt was cinched around his slender waist. He knees were then forced apart and brought up over his shoulders and secured in that position. A dildo-shaped overly large butt plug was then introduced into his asshole by one of the sadistic assistants, who all had shared his fate, and rammed home with a sudden twisting shove that caused his protests to raise a full octave. “I’ll kill all of you bastards!” He threatened. In the course of the next fifteen minutes I heard just about every swear word, curse, and vulgarity in the English language spew from the kid’s mouth. I have always wondered how kids this young get to be such trash mouths. Maybe I’ll do some research on that subject some day.

His obscenities were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the electric clippers as they glided around his genitals and up and down his thighs, and finally all of the way into the crack of his ass, leaving only coarse stubble as the residue of his once-luxurious pubic bush. The attendant paused after he finished and lay the vibrating back of the cutting head against the boy’s balls, causing the kid’s fear-shrunken cock to rise to full attention. He then touched the vibrating clippers to the hard plastic of the boy’s butt plug before stepping away just in time to avoid getting splashed by the copious streams of semen produced by the stimulation to the boy’s prostate and testicles. The attendant then rubbed the pool of semen all around the youth’s freshly shorn crotch to use as shaving cream for the razor that left the kid as smooth and bare as an infant.

I thanked the attendant, who was a eunuch himself, then stretched on a pair of rubber gloves. A quick swipe of antiseptic, a couple of wraps high around the scrotum with a rubber tourniquet, and it was Showtime. I opened his bag with a single slice of the knife, then excised each of the exposed testicles before trimming the excess scrotal tissue from his crotch. A few sutures and a quick application of the cauterizing iron and it was over. The tourniquet and the restraints were removed and the now unconscious boy was helped from the table as I raised the glass shield separating us from the rest of the auditorium.

My audience was silent now, and most still had their hands clasped over their crotches, concealing their erections. A few had lost the battle and were sporting dark wet spots on their gym shorts. Their short-lived rebellion had been effectively squashed, but the public castration had another, more subversive, purpose. The unfortunate victim would immediately be returned to the general population for recovery. Some of the boys will treat him with compassion, while others will publicly ridicule him, referring to him as just another nutness wonder. Some of the boys will take advantage of his weakened physical condition and use him for sexual relief, while others will resist carnality and just masturbate instead, and at the end of eight week’s time some of the boys will be allowed the privilege of keeping their balls.