Bobby's Day

Bobby is a good example of how I do things. The 16-year-old boy was brought to me by his parents, who are both highly religious and were disturbed by Bobby’s frequent masturbation. When they found a stack of pornography in Bobby’s room, they decided to bring him to me.

My approach was firm but gentle: I informed Bobby that he would be castrated, but that it would be a special event that would have many positive benefits for him. It took days of patient understanding and persuasion, but Bobby finally came around and accepted his fate.

On the day of his cutting, I woke Bobby early, after drawing his bath. The sleepy boy shed his underpants and began soaking in the tub. As I gently washed him, I couldn’t help admiring the slim, almost hairless body before me. His uncircumsized penis bobbed in the water as I scrubbed his scrotum, feeling the testes that this day would meet their fate at my hands.

He complained mildly when I began shaving his crotch area, but soon there was no trace of pubic hair. Shaving his scrotum took some time, as I didn’t want to nick the sack.

After toweling Bobby off, I brought him back to the bed. Soft music was playing, and fragrant flowers were placed around the room. I could tell he was tense, but soon seemed to relax somewhat.

The next few hours were dedicated to his physical pleasures. I prepared a delicious meal for him, which he enjoyed. I kept the room warm, as Bobby was not permitted to wear clothing on this day.

Bobby tensed up when I sat down on the edge of the bed, and he pulled back slightly when I grasped his limp penis and began stroking it. Within seconds, though, the shaft had hardened and the head emerged from its foreskin. Bobby closed his eyes and sighed when my lips closed over his cock and began sucking. His nipples hardened and flushed.

Next to the castration, this is the part of the day that I always love the most. Bobby’s youthful body writhed in pleasure as I moved my lips up and down the shaft. My fingers squeezed his sack, and I manipulated each ball, locating the cords attached to them.

I wet my finger and probed his puckered anus, which soon opened and allowed me to feel around for his prostate. His loud moan told me that I had located this site of pleasure, and I massaged it gently.

When Bobby’s balls began to pull up toward his body, I knew his orgasm was approaching. I felt his anus contract around my finger, and his breathing became more rapid. Bobby cried out and tensed his body, his fingers grasping at the sheets and his toes curling. I felt his warm semen on my tongue, as he spurted several times, filling my mouth with the salty fluid.

I let the boy rest, aided by a warm drink that contained a sleeping drug. As he slept, I prepared the implements for his castration.

The burdizzo is an effective instrument, but only if used properly. After performing several dozen procedures with it on animals, I began using it for human operations. By now, I felt very comfortable with it. I’ve discovered that the burdizzo is a clean and quick method of ending a boy’s sexuality.

As Bobby slept, I fastened Velcro straps around his wrists and ankles, and then attached them to the four bedposts. His legs were spread wide apart, providing easy access to his genitals. His hairless body looked even younger as he began to stir.

Bobby’s eyes filled with panic and he yanked on his restraints. When he cried out, I sat on the bed and stroked his hair, gently assuring him that everything would be alright. He calmed down somewhat, and nodded when I asked him if I could begin.

The injections were somewhat painful for him, but soon the numbness spread though his groin. I taped his soft penis to his stomach, then began massaging his scrotum. His cords were clearly visible as I compressed his scrotum.

I always try to make the actual castration as quick as possible. I picked up the burdizzo and clamped it around the cord of his right ball. He cried out as I began crushing the cord, not from pain but from fear. I held the handles of the silver instrument tightly, making sure that I was rupturing the cord. After about a minute I released it. A blood blister was forming, but underneath the damage had been done.

Bobby was sobbing as I moved the clamp to the other side of his sack. I didn’t speak, as nothing could really console the boy at this moment. His body shook as I counted the seconds until I could release the clamp. I placed the burdizzo back on the tray and felt around the sack. There was no doubt: Bobby was now a eunuch.

After giving him a sedative, I let his parents into the room. They were grateful when I told them that Bobby’s problem had been fixed. His mother was appreciative of the care I had taken on this important day. I refused their offer of compensation, because I do this for love, not for money. Knowing that I had changed Bobby’s life forever was all the reward I needed.