“I don’t think you should wear those,” Dad says. I’m wearing my skintites, stretch jeans that look like they’re painted on. Hell, you can see everything I have, my balls, my cock, the crack of my ass – even my pubic hair; but they’re meant to show it all. Any guy with a decent cock wants to show it off; and I have a decent cock. It’s not all that long – about seven inches – but it’s thicker than most. When I wrap my hand around my hard cock, my thumb just barely touches my first two fingers.

I look down at my crotch; my dick’s hard – it usually is. Reaching down, I straighten it; it was pointing over to the side.

“Dad, we’ve had this discussion before,” and we had. He’d complained the first time I’d worn skintites; but what does he know? Hell, he’s old, almost thirty-three. The only guys back home that didn’t wear them were Nutters and the few guys that couldn’t talk their parents into a dick enhancement.

My cock’s a natural. It’s never been enhanced. I wouldn’t mind having a couple of extra inches tacked on the end, but it’s thick enough.

“Yeah,” said Dad, “but that was in California. Things are different here. This is where the Holy Nutters started. I doubt that the kids here wear skintites.”

I grinned. “I’ll give them a thrill, then – give the girls something to think about, if they’ve never seen a decent cock.”

“I wish you’d change pants,” said Dad. “We need to fit in. Look at me.” He holds out his arms, showing me the cut of his clothes. Hell, he’s wearing a suit. He never wore a suit to work back home.

“You look like a fucking dweeb, Dad. I ain’t going to school looking like a fucking dweeb. Besides, I don’t have any other pants.”

“I bought you some new ones,” he said. “They’re in your closet.”

“Yeah, and I can just imagine what they’re like. I’m wearing these. They’re my favorites.”

We argued a bit, but as usual, he gave in. He’s easy. I usually get my way.

Fuck! Walking into the office before school started, I saw a bunch of kids in the hallway. A bunch of them, I’m sure, are nutless wonders, members the Holy Nutters church, the Church of the Redeemer. Like Dad said, the fucking church started here in South Carolina.

What the fuck were we doing here?

OK, so the question’s rhetorical. Dad’s company transferred him to Redemption. He had no choice. “Take the job or look for one elsewhere.” And given the state of the economy since the collapse of 2012, even though fifteen years have passed, jobs are hard to come by. Unemployment is at thirty percent, and that’s an improvement over what it was.

Fucking country’s gone insane I guess, but being only fifteen, myself, it’s all I know.

Anyway, after the collapse, the Holy Nutters – our name for them back home – started cutting the nuts off boys. “Masturbation is a sin. The economic collapse is God’s punishment for homosexuality and masturbation,” they said.

Hell, if masturbation is a sin, I guess I’m going to Hell. I started jacking off at eleven – at least that’s when I first squirted. I’d been playing with my pecker long before that. Actually, I can’t remember a time I didn’t jerk on it. It feels good. Why shouldn’t I do it? Dad says jacking off is normal. He said all boys do it.

I guess many of the guys around here don’t. I can tell a nutted kid at first glance, especially if they’re my age and had their nuts cut off before puberty. They look like long, lanky, ten year-olds.

I have to shave my upper lip every couple of days and shave my chin a couple of times a week. No razor has touched most of these kids’ faces. They’ll never have to shave. Dad told me a nutted kid, if he’s nutted before puberty, never goes through it.

Even back in California, at my old school, there were a bunch of kids that belonged to the Holy Nutters. I’ll bet there were eight or nine guys in my gym class that didn’t have balls. Some, nutted before puberty, had little dicks and no pubic hair. Some, nutted after puberty, had bigger dicks and pubic hair but empty ball sacs.

One kid had been fucking nullified. He had nothing down there, no pubic hair, no balls, and no dick. Goddamn! He was hot. If he was in the shower, when I walked into the shower room, I got a hard-on, and I wasn’t the only one. Shit! I would have fucked him, but the Holy Nutters think sex is a sin, and I guess, if his parents cut off his dick and balls to keep him from masturbating, they might have been pissed, had I stuck my dick up his ass.

OK, so I haven’t actually fucked anyone, not even a girl. But if we hadn’t moved, I’ll bet Karen Ware would have let me. Eric Lang fucked her, and he said he could fix me up with her, but we moved before he could.

Jimmy Harris jacked me off with his mother’s vibrator, and I used to let Billy – a neighbor kid – watch me jack off, but that’s all I’ve done.

Billy was a couple years younger and hadn’t hit puberty at the time. He could get his dick hard, but he couldn’t spurt nothing.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked my dad, but she’s was staring at me – at my crotch. My skintites hid nothing; my hard cock was on display. I grinned and straightened it.

Dad handed her a folder containing copies of my records from my old school. “I need to enroll my son, Logan. We’ve just moved here from California.”

Wrinkling her nose like she smelled something bad, she said, “I take it he hasn’t been fixed?”

“If you mean, has he been castrated - no. We’re not members of the Church of the Redeemer. We don’t castrate boys.”

“I think you need to talk to Mr. Scarborough, our principal,” she said. “Our boys have all been fixed.”

My mouth drops. I looked at Dad. He rolled his eyes. “All of them?” he says. “But how do they – uh, where is the next generation of kids coming from?”

“I think you need to talk to Mr. Scarborough,” she says. “If you’ll have a seat…”

We sat down in a couple of chairs that line the wall in front of her desk. She took my folder into the principal’s office, and closed the door. A few minutes later, the door opened; she came out. “You may go in,” she said.

We went in. A big guy – he was fat and had a red face – sat behind a desk. He stood and shook hands with my dad. “Shut the door, please,” he told me. I shut the door and sat next to my dad in a chair in front of Fat Boy’s desk.

“You’re not members of the Church of the Redeemer?” he asked.

“No, we’re not,” said Dad.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” said Fat Boy, “what are you doing here? Everyone in town belongs to the church. God appeared to Reverend Gillis fifteen years ago here in our town.”

“I didn’t have much choice,” said Dad. “My company moved me here. They’ve recently opened an office in Redemption.”

Hell, they should have named the town Nutters not Redemption. All these fuckers are nuts.

“And the boy hasn’t been altered?” Fat Boy says.

“If you mean, has he been castrated – no, he hasn’t.”

“If you’d like to have it done, we can arrange it free of charge.”

I shot Dad a worried look. I didn’t want my fucking nuts cut off. Shit, I liked jacking off, and I ain’t never fucked nothin.

“All of your boys have been castrated?” Dad asks.

“They’ve all been altered,” says Scarborough. “Most of them are without penis and testiles; some have testicles but no penis. No boy is intact.” He flips through my folder. “We only allow the best boys to keep their testicles. To keep them, a boy needs to excel physically and mentally. At first glance, if your son’s grades are an indication, he doesn’t qualify. Does he masturbate?”

“That’s his business,” Dad says. “I never asked him.”

Actually, he knows I do. There’s just him and me – my mom died right after I was born – and he’s walked in on me doing it a bunch of times. He don’t care.

Mr. Scarborough looked at me. “Do you masturbate, son?” he asked.

I felt my face burn. I looked at Dad. He gave his head a little shake. I wondered if Scarborough saw it. “Uh…no,” I lied.

Fat Boy looked back at my folder. “You’re fifteen, and you’ve never masturbated?”

“Masturbation is a sin,” I said, repeating the Nutter’s dogma.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” said Scarborough. “Then, I’m sure you won’t mind being castrated. As it is, I’m guessing you find avoiding masturbation difficult. Having your testicles removed will make it much easier for you.” Turning to address Dad, he says, “You’ll want a full nullification. It’s better to remove all temptation, especially since he’s well into puberty.” He looks back at me with a raised eyebrow. I’m sure he doesn’t believe my lie about never jacking off.

“I would – uh – like to have some time to think it over – to consider all options,” said Dad. “Can we enroll him and make that decision later?”

I looked at Dad. My mouth was open; my eyes were wide open. Don’t even think about it, Dad. No fucking way am I getting my nuts cut off.

“It’s best you have it done first,” said Scarborough. “As an intact boy, he will be out of place. It will be better for all concerned, if he’s altered first. We can arrange for it today, and he’ll be well enough to attend school in a couple of weeks.”

“I’d rather wait,” said Dad.

Atta boy, Dad.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Scarborough.

“Are you saying I can’t enter him in this school unless he’s castrated?” said Dad. “As far as I know, the Constitution still provides for the separation of Church and State, and this is a public school.”

“The Senate is currently debating the repeal of the First Amendment,” said Scarborough. “By this time next year, I expect it to be repealed.”

“It isn’t yet,” said Dad. “Can I, or can I not, enroll my son?”

“I can’t refuse to take him,” said Scarborough, “but we have State laws prohibiting masturbation and homosexual, and heterosexual sex behavior. If he’s caught engaging in any of the aforementioned, he would be considered a sex offender, nullified by court order, and sent to prison.”

“How do you propagate around here? Where’s the next generation coming from, if no one has sex?” Dad asked.

“Artificial insemination,” said Scarborough. “God has given us this opportunity to improve our species. We collect semen from penectomized males and inseminate our best and brightest females. A hundred years from now, man will be far superior to what he is today.”

“How do you collect it, if they don’t have dicks?” asked Dad.

“Please spare me the gross vernacular,” Scarborough said. “The same way one collects it from bulls, by prostate stimulation. As you can see, a penis is no longer necessary. Shall I arrange your son’s nullification? He hasn’t much of a future, if he becomes a registered sex offender.”

“Are you telling me he could become a registered sex offender for masturbating?” Dad asked.

“Yes,” said Scarborough. “If he’s caught masturbating, he will be arrested, and if found guilty, will be registered as a sex offender. If that happens, he will be nullified, so, as I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s better to have him done as soon as possible. I find it difficult to believe he hasn’t masturbated, especially since he lived in California; most here think all Californians are gay, and we certainly don’t allow homosexuals in our school – or in our state, for that matter.”

I’m not gay. Letting Jimmy Harris jack me off with his mother’s vibrator doesn’t make me gay. Letting Billy watch me jack off doesn’t make me gay. Does wanting to fuck that nullified Nutter make me gay? He’s not really a guy, if he has everything cut off, is he?

“My son doesn’t masturbate,” said Dad. “He won’t engage in sex with anyone, male or female. I’d like to enroll him in school. I’ll think about having him fixed.”

Mr. Scarborough stood, handing my folder to Dad. “You’re making a mistake, but give this folder to Mrs. Reynolds, and she’ll enroll him. I do suggest you reconsider. Both of you will be happier, once he’s fixed.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Dad.

“Are you really thinking about having my nuts cut off?” I whispered to Dad, as we walk out.

“No…talk to you later – at home,” he whispered.

He left me with Mrs. Reynolds. When the bell rang for the next period, she took me to my first class; actually it was my second period class. We spent the first period in the office getting my schedule set up.

The class was Algebra, the teacher, Mr. Ryder. I wondered if he had balls. He shaves, so he once did, but I’m beginning to wonder if anyone – other than Dad and me – had balls. I wondered if Fat Boy Scarborough had balls.

Was I really the only boy in this school that had both dick and balls?

What’s it like to have balls but no dick? Shit! How would you jack off? As it was, I couldn’t go a whole day without doing it. Some days, I jacked off four or five times. Hell, I’d go fucking crazy, if I couldn’t.

I saw a couple of boys in the class that must have balls. Both of them shaved.

They were studs – well, if they had dicks, they’d be studs. They’re good looking and built like jocks. Shit, I wish I had muscles like that; I wish I was that good looking.

My cock was hard thinking about it. I stole a glance at the one closest to me, a couple seats away, looking at his crotch. If he has a cock, it doesn’t show, but his pants were baggy, and that didn’t mean anything.

The kid saw me looking at him and stared back. His mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide. He stared at my crotch. Ain’t you never seen a hard-on?

Hell, in California, we strutted our shit. It was cool to have your hard dick outlined by your skintites.

My cock stayed hard throughout the class. The thought of being the only guy in the class – hell, in the whole school – with a dick, turned me on. When I stood up after the bell rang, though, I wished I’d worn the pants Dad bought or me. Everyone – even Mr. Ryder stared at my crotch.

Some of the jocks cornered me in the hallway.

“What kind of freak are you?” one of them asked.

“I’m not a freak,” I said.

“Why do you still have a penis?” he asked. “Why do you have testicles for that matter? You’re obviously not fit to reproduce.”

The guy had a superior attitude. I could see that these jocks, the guys with balls, thought they were hot shit.

“I was born with them,” I said. “Did you really let them cut off your cock?”

“You’re an abomination,” he said. “Any intact boy is an abomination. Masturbator.”

I wanted to say, Hell, yes, I jack off. But I remember what old Scarborough said about Masturbation being a crime as well as a sin. “I don’t jerk off,” I said, “but I bet you wish you could.”

He pushed me against the lockers; he grabbed my balls; he squeezed. Damn, it hurt. “Where are you from?” he asked.

“Ow, Goddamn, let go,” I said. Two of his jock buddies grabbed my arms.

“Where are you from, masturbator?” he asked.

“California,” I said.

“Just as I thought,” he says. “You’ll not keep these.” He gives my balls a squeeze before turning them loose. “Heretic, Masturbator, Homosexual,” he sneered. “You’re no member of the Church of the Redeemer. Are you?”

I gave my head a little shake.

“Submit to the Lord’s will and his holy knife, or we’ll castrate you. You will not flaunt that tool of Satan, around here.”

“You’d go to jail, if you do that,” I said.

He laughed. “My father’s the mayor.” With a tilt of his head, he gestured toward another of the jocks. “Stephen’s dad is the police chief. Your dad is an outsider and unbeliever. You’re an outsider. Who’s going to arrest one of us? Maybe, we’ll just say we saw you masturbate; then, the State will do it for us. Don’t come back tomorrow; and don’t come back at all as long as you have a penis – or testicles for that matter.”

Kids avoided me in the halls; the flow of people in the halls parted when it came to me like I was a rock in a stream. No one bumped me; no one came close enough to touch me. Even though I walked the halls with a book in front of my crotch; everyone knew I had a cock.

I was in the shower after P.E. trying not to get a hard-on, which was difficult, since all the guys in the shower with me were nullos. A couple of them had little triangles of pubic hair; the rest had none.

Unable to keep my dick soft, I turned away, toward the wall, trying to hide my hard dick. I had hopes of hiding it, since none of the boys stood near me, even though an unused shower was on each side of me. It was like I had a contagious disease or something.

Someone grabbed my shoulder spinning me around. It was Stephan. He kneed me in the balls. I doubled over, my face level with his crotch. He had balls; but he had no dick. All I could see was a pee hole above two large, apparently healthy, balls.

His knee cured me of my hard dick. One of his jock friends came in. He also had balls but no dick. He had a hunting knife in his hand. “We could do him right here,” he said, handing the knife to Stephan.

“Hold him,” said Stephan.

"To be continued: