Castrated on TV

Just twenty minutes to go.

Not that long to be a man, and yet, he was powerless to change what was to be. Still, with the 'talking heads' telling his life story, and the cameras trained on his face, for the time being anyway, it seemed the entire nation had tuned in to watch. By a quirk of fate he was the first, the first one to be televised. They said the ratings were at an all time high, and more than one hundred million people were going to watch him as the government took his balls.

Right now he was strapped into position, with a ball gag in his mouth, holding it open, and preventing him from making any statements to anyone. There would be no "last words", no "final wisdom" from him as a man. No, nothing like that. All he could do was grunt, and struggle and scream into his gag. All of that was OK of course, and even encouraged.

Pedophilia. It is a sickness they had said, and so this was the treatment. At least it was now, and it seemed cruel and unjust. At least to him it did. His lawyers had fought hard to let him stay a man, and over the years the battle had gone from county to state and all the way to the highest court in the land. It had been a long fight, through the courts, but in the end the good of the boys had prevailed, and now he was the first, the ultimate example, and right or wrong it was now going to be done.

He thought back on the boys. How many? Six...yeah and they were all just great kids. Boy it had been fun, and he loved buying them gifts. What was so bad about that? It was the fourteen year old that had told, and with his tale and the discovery the others had been questioned and after that he was done. All because the fourteen year old had talked.

Yeah, he remembered him still, Billy, with his bright blond hair, bleached and highlighted and oh-so-hot. Yeah, what a great boy, with that perfect, growing body, his thin little cock, stiff and eager, jutting up from that sparse hair, the boys pits and chest as smooth as a baby's ass. He smiled at the memory, and the way the youth had spurted. He had sucked it all down, swallowed it all, slurping down the boy's jism as if it was sweet cream. The boy hadn't minded either, not then he hadn't. No, he liked it even, and when he shot his wad he had screamed with the pleasure. Of course, that was a long time ago, and the boy was older now, and angry, pushed by the lawyers and the parents and everyone else.

Fifteen minutes to go now.

The big clock was on the opposite side of the room, and as the hands moved he tried once again to test his bonds. They had him seated, and there was a rope around his neck, pulling him back, into the chair and holding him there, upright, facing the camera and staring at it as it stared at him. His arms were tied down too, the little padded cuffs made to be soft and non-abrasive in case he struggled. They were tight around his wrists, very tight, and there was no way to move his arms or to do much of anything.

Did he deserve this? No! Shit no, not in his opinion at least. Still, he couldn't argue about what he had done, and so as he waited, with his legs spread and his knees tied out wide, exposing his genitals, the country watched and he waited with him. Of course, the majority of those watching felt he deserved everything that was going to transpire. At least, that was the story as the talking heads put it, the string of "experts" explaining his sickness and justifying his "treatment." Still, castrated! Spiked! God! The man was shaking, sweating really, and yet it didn't matter and the outcome was certain.

On the television, one of the state's physicians was explaining the "spike" as it was called, and as the man waited, waited for it and for his castration, he couldn't help but listen and as he did so his heart began to race.

"Well, the 'spike', as it's called, is actually a device specifically designed to insure that the habitual sexual offender is incapable of further sexual offenses. While the castration will remove the desire, the "spike" insures that mechanically, any sexually manipulation of the organ, or the penis, will become impossible once it is in place. It's really quite ingenious, and yet even so, it's extremely simple and cannot be removed by the sexual criminal. This is the device, and as you can see it is only a little over an inch long and doesn’t look like much."

As the man on the monitor spoke, he held up a small, hollow tube, made out of surgical stainless steel and shaped like a metallic straw. It was about half the thickness of a pencil. It was hollow, and the TV monitor showed the hole clearly, running all the way through it. It glistened, shiny, metallic, and seemed to be nothing but a tube of metal with a flat end. One end was flat, flared, and wide like a thumb tack might look. As the camera zoomed in on the device, the man talking continued to describe what the audience was looking at.

"Once the offender has been castrated, this will be inserted into the end of the man's penis. It will slide in easily, for about an inch and a half, until the flat end, the trigger end, pushes up against the end of his glans. As you can see, it can't be inserted in too far. It won't go past the flat end of the device. Now, once that is done, the end is turned, like this, and when that happens the spring latches inside are disengaged."

As he said the word "disengaged" the man rotated the flat end one half turn, and as he did so three sharp, needle like projections suddenly sprung out near the opposite end. They were sharp, and pointed slightly back, at an angle, towards the flat end of the metallic tube. As the camera zoomed in for a close look, he continued to talk.

"As you can see, once the flat end is turned, the locking pins are pushed out. At that point the devise cannot be removed, at least not by pulling it out of the penis. The only way to remove the device once the pins have been extended is through surgery. It's not a simple operation either. It's impossible for the man to get it out himself. I guess the man could remove the end of his penis, but except for that he really has no way to remove the device once it is in place."

"The internal spikes cannot be retracted once the end is turned and they are extended. Of course, as soon as they pop out they drive themselves into the man's glans, from inside, and they hurt like hell. Over time the pain lessons and the man's penis will actually accommodate them. They say you can get used to anything, and the device itself over time becomes painless once the man's penis heals around the spikes. Of course, that assumes he behaves himself."

The man grinned then. Then, he began to push in on the flat end of the device, pushing on it as if it was a button. The end seemed to slide in, and then back out as he let go of it. As he did so, you could see the three spikes elongate, and then retract, back to the position they were before he pressed on the end. He also pulled out on the flat end, and again the spikes grew longer and shorter and longer and shorter. No matter which way he pushed or pulled on the flat end, the spikes went in and out like tiny little darts. The camera caught it all.

"As you can see, if something pushes or pulls on the end of the device, such as might occur if the man attempted to put his penis into anything, then the spikes elongate and jab into the man's glans from deep inside with every movement of his organ. Any motion of his shaft, in either direction, any motion at all, will cause these spikes to jab into the head of his penis from inside, like little spears. Some men say it feels like someone is inside of them slashing with a knife."

"This jabbing will occur if the man tries to manipulate the device, either by pulling out on it or pushing in on it. It doesn't take much movement either. For example, even the most gentle motions would become impossible. Sex is impossible. Even masturbation is impossible. In fact, except for urination, any playing with the penis is impossible. An erection becomes something to fear, as an erect penis will place pressure on the trigger end, which usually will extend the spikes even if no other manipulation takes place. Literally, it only takes a second to implant the device, but after it's been done it totally removes any sexuality to the man's sexual organ."

"Any extension of the spikes is extremely painful, and any man who has such a device inside his cock will become impotent virtually immediately. Sex is impossible for him, even if he somehow gets the desire. Of course, for our man today, it's just added insurance. Once his testicles have been removed, his desire to offend again will drop off rapidly. Still, you can't be too safe when you are dealing with pedophiles. Once his balls are gone and this in place, he's not going to be menacing anyone ever again."

Ten minutes to go.

For the man in the chair, waiting, the television monitor was scaring him to the core. The closer they got to his unmanning, the worse the coverage got and the more he wanted to ignore it. Of course, he had heard about the "spike," before, while he was in prison and waiting for the courts to play out his case. There were many men who carried one, and it was even becoming common practice in the prison to implant one in any prisoner who molested another. Even too much masturbation could win you a "spike." They had terms for it too.. "Spiked".... "Drilled"..... "Bitten." Yeah, well, he had seen men with one, and the announcer was certainly right. All of them ignored their dicks. They had to.

In some ways he knew he was lucky. The ones with balls, well, they constantly lived a life between desire and fear, between getting a boner and being jabbed within their cocks. It drove them mad. In prison, he could remember watching one man, just staring at his "drilled" dick, staring down at it, watching it, as if by staring at it he could somehow get the feeling and have his relief. But there was no relief for him. While others in their cells would jerk their cocks and grunt out their loads, he just stared, and dreamed, longing to touch what in realty was no longer his.

Five minutes to go.

The talking heads were now discussing the mechanics of his castration, and of course, he turned to look at them and listen to what he already knew. Between his legs his scrotum had been drawn down, stretched out and weighted, with his balls through a hole in the plate he was sitting on. Directly in front of him were the shears. They were just like pruning shears, like the ones a gardener might use to trim a branch from a tree. The jaws were open, the handles wide, and his scrotum was within them and waiting to be snipped. They were clamped in position, and there was no way his balls could escape.

The shears had big handles for leverage, even though leverage wasn’t needed. Still, they looked meaner that way, and on the camera it would be apparent when they were closed, the big handles moving as they closed the shears and took his balls. They were like scissors in a way, waiting, waiting to snip his balls and do his castration. There wasn’t any doubt at all that they would do the job, or that his balls would come off still in their sac. He turned to the monitor, and listened as some new expert was answering questions and describing what was about to take place.

"Isn't this extremely painful?"

"Yes....it is painful, but let's try and remember what this individual has done. He has been convicted of molesting six boys, between the ages of twelve and fourteen, and he definitely deserves what is gong to happen. The pain is part of his punishment, and is intended to serve as a deterrent to others. Because of that, there is no anesthesia given, and he has no painkillers within his system. He will feel all of it, every bit of it as they take his balls."

SHIT! They make him sound like some pervert, but hell, he never hurt those kids. They were just over at his house, playing games, and he just played with them. They all had fun, all of them, and none of the boys had minded when he had sucked their cocks. As he thought of them he remembered the three thirteen year olds, and how sweet they had tasted as he drank their young wads. It was the perfect age, when they first began to squirt, their thin cream young and sweet and oh-so-fucking hot. As he had the thought, and remembered them, his dick stirred and the blood surged to it.

Three minutes to go.

"I think...I think he is getting an erection. That surprises me, I mean, we are only minutes away now and his penis is actually getting hard. Well, once he's been castrated and they've spiked his dick that won't be a problem anymore. The entire procedure will go quickly....the actually castration just entails closing the handles on the loppers, and after that his balls will be separated from the man who owns them. It's simple, fast, and one hundred percent effective."

The man talking grinned then and his eyes seemed excited as he contemplated the prisoner's unmanning.

Two minutes to go.

The man waiting to lose his balls stared down at the big handles, and the way the jaws of the loppers surrounded the neck of his scrotum. His balls were big, and hanging. They had shaved them of hair the day before, and so they were bald now, hanging, waiting, almost eager even as their final moments ticked away. He had big balls, and always had. OH GOD....they WERE going to take them! As he stared at his balls, and looked at the loppers, his cock grew stiffer, then even harder still, and as he stared it rose from the chair and jutted out, and then up, stiff and eager as the moment for his castration neared.

At that moment, a teenager appeared. He was eighteen, by state regulation, but he looked much younger. Of course, that was on purpose, for the benefit of the television audience. It would turn out that more than eleven hundred teenagers had auditioned for this opportunity. The networks were clearly running the show. Someone had decided that using a teenager to castrate the man would have a greater impact. Certainly, it was fitting, for a convicted pedophile to be unmanned by a boy.

The boy that had won the chance to do the castration was a typical blond haired teen, with muscles that rippled but the thin body of a still growing boy. The networks had dressed him for the show. All he wore was a Speedo bathing suit. That too was intentional, a part of the show, the little bulge in his suit a testament to his budding manhood. It boy's young cock was outlined in his suit, and was in sharp contrast to the big cock from the man on display, stiff and eager, jutting up almost in defiance at the boy who was there to take his balls.

The boy had a flat stomach, with ripped horizontal lines that were perfect. His chest was typical for a young man, his tiny nipples small and tight and dark. They had made sure his face was shaved smooth, and even his armpits were trimmed. He didn't have a hair on his chest, or his legs, and unless you knew his real age you would have assumed he was much younger.

One minute.

The camera had moved from the two individuals talking to the man in the chair. It had zoomed out too, to show the chair and the man and the pruning shears around his scrotum. There was a flashing text line at the bottom of the screen, flashing its warning off and on and off and on. "GRAPHIC IMAGE - VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED."

The commentator was still talking now, his mouth running in the background as the camera zoomed in on to the man's balls, then to the man's face and then to the boy who was going to do the castration. "Just one minute to go, and the state castrator is in place. All the boy has to do is to close the handles and this pedophile will be ball-less. It’s a fitting punishment. There shouldn’t be much blood, as the plate through which the scrotum has been pulled contains a set of mechanical jaws, that will spring closed once the man's balls have dropped to a trigger plate below. Literally, as soon as he is castrated the weight of his scrotum will cause the wound to be clamped closed, and held that way until the medical team moves in to finalize his procedure."

Thirty seconds.

The boy reached for the handles then, and the man started to struggle. He sensed it, the end of his life as a man, coming up fast and he powerless to prevent it. As he stared ahead, at the teenager who was taking his fate into his hands, he suddenly panicked and after that he was wild and desperate and struggled as if there would be no tomorrow coming. He jerked wildly then, hard, trying to close his legs, to get free or to protect his balls. It was a useless gesture, but as he saw it all about to happen his eyes grew even wider, pleading, begging really as his heart raced and his cock pulsated and bobbed up and down.

Twenty seconds.

SHIT! OH GOD....OH GOD....NO! NO! He slammed his head back then, against the chair back, and then forward, until his neck was stopped by the rope. He twisted his hands, but the wrist restrains were too tight to allow any movement, and so he stared, with an open mouth, stuffed with the gag that held his words and swallowed his begging. He tried to kick his feet too, but they weren't going anywhere.

The teenager gripped the shears, and waited for the clock. His knuckles turned white. There was a state administrator, standing out of the camera range, and he watched the clock and waited for the moment to come. He was grinning then, from ear to ear, as he waited for justice to be served and the man's balls to be taken.

The time ticked to zero, and the administrator gave the nod just as the second hand passed the twelve. At that instant, the teenager holding the pruning shears began to close the jaws. He didn't seem to be in any hurry, but just brought the handles closer and closer together.

For the man in the chair, he felt it, felt the jaws moving then, closing down on his nuts, tighter, and then tighter, and then suddenly the pain was shooting through his entire groin. He bucked his hips, and screamed into his gag, the feeling of the shears more intense than anything he had imagined. As it was being done, he suddenly ejaculated, and his last wad as a man shot up and out of his prick with a vengeance. He squirted high, spraying it out, and as he did so the boy moved the handle more until they had come together and turned the man into a sexless eunuch.

His entire sac dropped free, and the man spasmed even as he continued to ejaculate. His body jerked, and he pulled with every muscle in his body, struggling against his bonds as he felt his unmanning. There was a bang sound, as the trip plate took the weight of his severed scrotum and spring-loaded jaws pinched off the skin where his scrotum had been attached seconds before. He shook then, hard, in his bonds, fighting like a madman, in total panic, fighting with all that he had as felt the emptiness that consumed his being.

There was a thunderous applause, piped into the monitor from the control room, the digital sound filling the television airways and adding to his humiliation. Then, while everyone watched, the teenager in the Speedo reached over and picked up the small mechanical "spike" and held it up to the camera, looking as if he was checking it to make sure it was ready. Then, he just reached down and picked up the new eunuch's cock, and rubbed his thumb over the end. As he wiped off the last of the man's cream, he exposed the man's piss hole. There, he placed the end of the "spike" against the slit and then, for a second, he hesitated.

Time seemed to stand still. The man stared, his eyes open, shaking his head back and forth as he begged for mercy. He screamed into his gag, pleading, babbling like a maniac as he stared at the spike in the boy's hand. He begged with all he had, anything, begging to keep the thing from being inserted. The boy could have cared less. Then, ignoring the struggles from the man tied to the chair, the boy pushed gently, pushing down on the device and sliding it inside the man's sex tube until it was flush with the end of his cock. Then, he hesitated again, and the man looked down at him, eye to eye, begging him not to do what was to be done.

The boy smiled at the pedophile, and that's when he twisted the flat end of the device, and as he did the man jerked, hard, trying to rise up against his restraints as he felt the internal spikes drive up and into his cock from inside. He bucked his hips then, up and down, and then up and down again, harder, just a man in motion, screaming into his gag as he felt the "spike" and lived the pain that had replaced his balls.

After that, the camera went to something else, and the multitude of advertisers tried to make their sales before the audience tuned away. As the commercials screamed out their messages, the pedophile was left to begin his life as a sexless eunuch. According to the experts, he had been cured, and was now no longer a threat to society. It had only taken a few minutes to do this, and everyone, everyone except him, was glad to see that it was finally done.

[Authors note: © Copyright March, 2003. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author.]