Ayzintion City--Soldiers of Misfortune.

I heard about them the very day they came into the city, and the news spread as fast as the wind. Like everyone else I rushed to see them brought in, carefully chained together and in single file. It is so rare to capture an enemy soldier, and these three were just outside the city, along the southern ravine that hides the entrance, and that makes it even more significant. They were caught sneaking along the southern undercut, where the waterfalls are, and their capture electrified the city. One of the three is an officer, and he brings even more significance to the trio. A thousand questions are flying, and everyone is concerned.

It is obvious that these three are a small squad, sent to do mischief, and from the weapons they were carrying and the map of the chancellery they had in their possession its possible they were trying to assassinate the Council of Elders. Whatever their purpose, they were captured almost 900 miles from their own territory, and there is no doubt whatsoever that they were sent on a mission of destruction. Their parent army is on the verge of defeat, and whatever their purpose it had to have been significant for them to have taken such a risk. In a way they are spies, and in another way they are not. I guess it doesn’t matter, and their fate will be the same.

They have been taken to the high-risk holding area, and it is there they will stay until their time is set and their fate has been done. I run one of the established Relief Shops, where slaves for the bed can be purchased on short notice. It’s a legitimate business, and I've done well by it. I want these men, or at the very least, one or two of them, and because of my influence and the money I've paid to the people who want it, I was able to get in to see them for myself.

I had to go to the western edge of the square, but the guards let me through the high security walls and after that I was able to catch a better glimpse of them. They are all huge men, dangerous men, and I could tell from the expressions of our own enlisted soldiers that were guarding them that these three were intimidating. When I got there our men were trying to question the soldiers, to find out what their mission had been, but the men were professionals and whatever it was they had to tell they certainly weren't talking.

Well, I wasn’t there to hear of their mission and the reality was I didn't care what they had been planning either. It was their bodies I wanted, and I could immediately see that they exceeding my expectations and were all honed to perfection. They were all massive, and as I looked at them I was almost spellbound. It's obvious they could kill you easily, and if they were not restrained the guards would not have the upper hand. It's almost like they were made for killing, and as I gazed at them I couldn't help but stare. I remember every moment of that first encounter.

Each of them was in a canque. It is an ancient device, older than the city even, and while some are made of iron each of theirs was made of wood. The canque's are like stocks....they are made of two pieces of dense wood that have cutouts to accommodate the prisoner's massive necks and wrists. With the two pieces clamped together, their wrists stick up through the wooden boards just adjacent to the hole where their neck sticks through, so that their hands are held up, even with their ears...their armpits visible and their hair growing there black and wet with their sweat.

There is no way they can get out of them...the holes are too small to pull through, and so they carry their wooden prisons around their necks and it trusses them out and keeps their heads and arms immobile. They are cruel devices, and yet they do the job well and once in them there is no escape. I can see they are all struggling against them, and it's apparent that they are heavy and are more than a small burden even for the massive men who are locked into them.

The soldiers are all naked and that makes me smile. Their uniforms have been taken, along with their weapons, and so there is nothing to hide from us that watch. They have massive bodies, and their genitals match the men that carry them. Their pricks are big, and long, even though they are just hanging now like thick hoses between their legs. Even so, they are huge and fat and I cannot help but look at them.

Their balls though are what hold my attention. Monster balls. Just monster balls. Huge. Fat. Hanging...stuffed full, their sac of balls hanging down, swaying actually, their fat scrotums hanging like bull's balls eager for mating. I've never really seen balls like these, and the three sacs that hold their manhood are just huge. I stare, and I lick my lips and my prick stirs in my pants.

One of them is lifting up his canque...hefting the weight with his wrists to take the pressure off of his shoulders. He does that for a while, and then he grows tired and the weight of it falls back and his arms are soon hanging again where only moments before they were pushing it up. You can see his muscles ripple...as he fights it, trying to find some position where the pressure is less and the thing can be accommodated.

The second soldier staggers...it's obvious the last few hours have left him tired. You can see him fighting his canque...I try and guess the weight and it must be at least thirty pounds, and perhaps more. Of course, they have been wearing them now for a more than two days, since their capture along the ravine, and so the toll from them is fatiguing and they look tired from the strain. It's obvious the devices have been constructed to insure they cannot escape, as the wood is oak and heavy and I figure it is more than two inches thick.

On one end the wooden blocks are hinged; the old iron hinges made long ago in the blacksmith's shop. Still, the hinges allow the boards to be opened, and the neck and wrists pulled through, and then closed with a clunk that defines the heavy prison that they are destined to wear. At the other end, the end away from the hinge, the two boards are secured closed with a single iron rod that passes through both boards. The end of the long rod is threaded. The other end of the rod has been pounded flat, so that it cannot slide all the way through the hole that has been drilled through the end of the canque. An iron nut is screwed down the end of the threaded rod, bolting the two boards together, and I can see them staring at it.

It must be frustrating for them...to be able to see the big nut, tightened down, clamping their neck and wrist within the massive collar, staring at it and knowing that they can't quite reach it. Even if they could, the giant nut cannot be turned with just a hand, so in effect, their threaded rods lock the canque's they wear in place far better than any clasp ever could.

Of course, we all know the fate of these men, even if they themselves have not figured it out. Perhaps they have, perhaps. Still, even so, there appears to be some hope in them, a fantasy perhaps in their minds; that they may yet escape or be rescued or somehow get away before it is done. Perhaps some of them dream they may yet complete their mission. I wonder. I smile then, thinking of their reality even if they are not. As I watch them, I know I am eager for it to happen. I can't take my eyes off of their huge scrotums, their balls so fat and filling them that it really defies description.

One of the captured soldiers says something, a question perhaps, and the guards laugh. I can tell he's asked for something, and he is rocking on his feet and he looks around the room as if he is looking for a place to do something. The guards watch him, and are laughing at him. A few minutes later, the big man spreads his legs slightly, until the chain around his ankles is tight, and then, suddenly, he starts to urinate like a barnyard animal. It comes like the piss comes from a horse....his hose just pouring it out on the dirt floor. It’s a thick stream, and yellow, and it sprays out of his hose for almost a minute.

He can't grasp his penis to direct it, so that it just splashes down between his legs and forms a puddle there, that turns the dusty dirt into a thin crust of mud. Finally, it slows to a dribble, and then, with a few small squirts, the man's hose finally is empty. It drips then, the end of his cock wet with his piss. His foreskin, like the others, covers the end of his hose. I can see the ground, and there is another puddle from one of the others, and it's apparent that these men have just been pissing where they stand. The floor is damp, and muddy, and there are flies now too, and the scene reminds me of a stable where the horses are kept. The guards laugh as the man finishes his piss, and the man's face flushes red with shame. For some reason it makes me smile.

The two enlisted men have chiseled bodies. I guess that one of them is in his early twenties and the other probably thirty or so. It's hard to say though, and they reek of sweat. Their hair is short, cropped, and they have shaved their beards. From the stubble on their faces I estimate that it has been three days, and perhaps four, since they last took their razor and made their faces smooth. I wonder, once their balls are gone, if they will appreciate that their razors will no longer be so necessary.

Everything about these men is huge, and it captures your attention and it grips you. They have massive necks, and chests that really just jut out, emphasizing their strength and power. Their bellies are flat, and ripped, with horizontal lines that define their muscles. Their eyes are looking, moving constantly, analyzing the surroundings, and carefully recording every detail. One of them looks out, across from where he has been made to stand, and he seems to stare at me, watching ME, and I feel it in my soul and I look away perhaps in fear.

Yes, I guess I am afraid of them in a way, even though they are locked tight, their arms held immobile as they await their fate. They are all obviously highly trained, and you can almost sense their thoughts, looking for a weakness; a way to foil the enemy. As I have that thought, I realize that their enemy is me and those in the city and it us that they were trying to destroy!

I don't care of course. I know they are no longer a threat to any of us. I want them for my Rest House. I know I can probably get them too. Soldiers do not make good field workers, as they are too unpredictable and they will usually escape if given half a chance. Further, with their skills they often are inclined to kill their owner and that makes owning them somewhat dangerous. No, these men will never be sold in the marketplace.

I've seen soldiers enslaved, and while you can get work out of them they are always looking for a chance to escape and they will incite others to help them. Usually you have to whip them constantly, or they will not do anything you want. And, if you make the mistake of letting them keep their balls then they are even more difficult to control. Castrating them helps, for sure, but even then it does nothing to change their nature. Sure, you can quiet them down a little and take some of their fight away when you nut them, but even so, their anger can linger a long time and the risks and the danger they represent will never go away completely.

I have no intention of making slaves of them. I'm no fool, and that is not where the money is. But I do know that once they have been turned into sexless eunuchs and I have strapped them to a bed with their legs spread wide and their holes forced open and waiting, eager and glistening with the lubricants of my trade, they will bring me a lot of money and I can't turn it down.

I know from experience that people will pay a lot to fuck this kind of a man, and there is something too about mounting a man so powerful and so dangerous that rebuilds confidence and strengthens the soul. There is just something about squirting your seed down such an unwilling ass, filling up their eunuch bodies with the essence of your manhood. I love watching a young man squirt his seed into a man who has lost his balls. With that thought, as I stare at their fat balls and contemplate the fun that will come with taking them, I feel my own dick stir even more, and know that I will enjoy the feeling when the day comes and I mount them myself.

All of the prisoners have a short length of chain around their feet, and while they can walk they do not have the ability to run. Once I have them in my shop, I will split that chain because I will need their legs spread wide. For now though, the short chain that binds their feet insures they stay and wait for their unmanning, and it must be frustrating for them knowing there is nothing they can do about it. I guess it doesn’t really matter for them. They will never be going very far again. For now, they hobble where they go...shuffle really, and as they do their chains clink and clank and they make the sound of metal as they move about.

There is something that is hanging beneath their balls, and I am too far away to make it out clearly. It seems to be a short length of thin rope, and it hangs down to below their knees. They all have it, and as I stare at it one of the guards grabs one of the ropes, the one that is attached to the balls of the younger man who just pissed. The guard gives it a jerk and as he does so the soldier's scrotum bulges outward, and the big man gives a grunt that is loud enough to be heard from my location.

The guard leads him then, across the room to a hitching post, and there he forms a loop that ties him to the post, literally, by his balls. He obviously didn't want to go, but he went anyway, the pull of the lanyard on his testicles just too much for him to fight. I can see his face clearly, and it is even redder now, with shame I think, to be walked like a pony and for him to go, unable to do anything but be dragged where they want him.

The one that is an officer isn't happy about their treatment, and he's certainly not afraid to make his protests known to our own army enlisted guards. He seems to be trying to make a point with them, about his rights as an officer and their treatment as prisoners. I can tell he's not happy. As I look at him closely I notice that the officer does not have the build of the others. He is still strong, but older, and as I'm watching him he turns away from the guards and starts to whisper something to his men. The guards notice, and they warn him, although I can't hear what they say. It's hot, and the officer is sweating, and his back is wet and it is slick all the way to his ass.

The officer turns, looks at the guard who said something, and then he turns back to his men and begins to whisper again. It's immediately apparent that he is angering the guards. The one guard calls out then, loudly, and gives him a warning even I can hear. The officer looks over his shoulder, and mutters something back to him, just a few words really, and then he turns away and back to his men. He also spits on the floor. The guard seems to just explode then, his face flush with anger, and then while I watch he picks up a short whip, the end made of strings of leather, and approaches the officer as if he is going to beat him.

The office spins around, facing, him, and starts to say something about him being a man of rank and demanding to be treated like one. He can't move fast however, because of the chain on his legs and the canque he wears, and so the guard just spins around behind him and then, suddenly, he snaps his whip across the officer's buttocks, hard, and fast.

SWISSHHHHHHHHHHHHH.....CRACKKKKKKKKKKK

The enemy officer is shocked, in disbelief perhaps at being whipped like an enlisted man. I have to laugh at his expression. Then, before he can do anything, he gets it again, and then again. Six snaps....one after the other and the officer tries to turn but he can't block the blows and the guard is holding the back of his canque so he can't turn around to face him. It must hurt like hell, and he stumbles in his chains and falls forward and would have fallen flat except that his canque hits the wall. Two more snaps of the whip cause him to jerk and yell, and he spreads his legs as wide as the chain will allow to try and get a purchase so he can keep from falling over. As he adjusts his legs and spreads them, the guard laughs and then gives two more quick snaps, with a fast undercut motion, moving the whip in a blur.

SWISSHHHHHHHHHHHHH.....CRACKKKKKKKKKKK

SWISSHHHHHHHHHHHHH.....CRACKKKKKKKKKKK

Because of the undercut, this time the whip goes up between his legs, up and into his huge scrotum and literally covering his inner thighs. His eyes go wide, and he screams out from the shock of the pain. He tries to spin around then, to dodge the punishment of the whip, and his eyes are wide and his balls feel as if they've been set on fire. The canque he wears is tasking him, and in it he can do nothing. He certainly can't block the whip. He is really helpless, and he knows it. The weight of it causes him to stagger, and you can tell that compared to his men he is suffering.

As I watch he tries to stand up, off the wall he fell against, but he staggers....spins, and goes down on one knee. He tries to get back up then...but the weight of it has worn on him since it was bolted onto him, and now his muscles are fatigued and he is having trouble holding it.

The whip has done its work, and there are lines of red across his legs and buttocks and a few stripes on his balls. His genitals have to be on fire, and I can tell that the burn is intense and real. You can see the wetness in his eyes. He isn't trying to talk to his men anymore, the message to stay quiet now unmistakable clear. I stare at him.

As an officer, it's obvious he likes being in control...giving the orders and making the decisions. All of his concentration however has been taken up by the whip and the wooden device he has been forced to wear, and as he fights it you can see that it frustrates him. I wonder how he will like it when they take his balls? He says something else, to the guard who whipped him, and I can almost make it out as some kind of pleading request. I notice his prick is half hard, and there is an angry stripe about two inches from the end, where one of the whip's lanyards found its mark.

The guard grins, and then responds by pushing on the front of the officer's canque, hard. As he does the weight of it is shifted backwards, and with him on his knees he cannot stop the momentum. He falls over then, straight back, until the wooden boards that envelope his wrists and neck hit the ground. It seems to stun him, and the officer's expression is one of total surprise. He tries to sit up...but with the weight of it on the ground he is unable, even though he brings his big thighs up to try and get the leverage.

He tries to roll over next...but the length of the boards does not allow it, hitting the dirt and making that idea an impossible task. The guards all laugh as he struggles on the muddy dirt, literally wallowing in the piss of his friends. It makes me think of a trussed up hog, ready for castration. You can see the look in his two men, and its one of horror. It's obvious the other soldiers want to help him but there is nothing they can do. Finally, the officer stops struggling...and just rests there, flat on his back, the heavy canque still holding his arms and his head as he looks up at the sky. He moves his head around...trying to see more, but still he can't move much.

He bucks his hips...just pushes up and lifts his ass off of the ground and out of the piss puddle, and as he does I cannot help but think that he will probably try to do that when they take his balls. I think its something all men do when it is being done to them...trying to move their hips and dodge the cutter's knife as it seeks their stones. I smile....I guess I can't help myself. As he juts his genitals up into the air the guard holding the whip snaps it down, one more time, directly across his hose and balls. The officer screams and his ass splashes back into the muck beneath him. The guard leaves his side then, and puts the whip back on the peg that holds it, his point made and his authority crystal clear.

The officer stares, upward, and it almost looks like he is fighting back tears. There is a second angry red stripe across his rapidly wilting dick. Suddenly, he begins to urinate, flat on his back, the puddle of his piss spreading out as he no longer can hold it inside. His face flushes red, shamed, and he bites his lip. Still, he just lays there and pisses until his bladder is empty. It is quite a puddle really, and it is obvious he has been holding it a while. His men stare at him, watching their commander, flat on his back, defeated, and urinating while everyone in the room watches him do it. It's totally humiliating. I have seen enough, and I leave to start my negotiations and to make my deal. I want these men, and I will have them.

Three days later it seems half the city has gathered for their castrations. They have stuck to their story of being lost, although I did hear that the youngest of the three started to crack when they threatened to take his balls. It doesn’t matter anymore, and their story is no longer important. Of course, by now they know what is coming, for the guards have told them and more than once too. The canque's around their necks have taken their toll, and the men are totally under their spell. The feeling of helplessness overwhelms them, their arms stiff now from being held in that position, their necks chaffed where they stick through the boards. They know they are helpless, know that their fate is now beyond their control, and yet, even so, they are proud men and they do not give up easily.

I left my shop and hour ago, after putting out the slave I use in my storefront to attract the attention and draw in the sales. I have the only Relief Shop in the central square, and my business has been good. Still, I need new blood to make it better. For now, the only hole I have left that is worth anything is in his forties, and yet, he is still strong and I am lucky that he still looks like someone with an ass worth fucking. Of course, he has no balls, and he is tied out, his arms held up to the corners of the frame that I use to hold him to advertise his charms.

I make sure he's splayed out...his legs spread wide, and I've ringed his nipples and chained them to his cock through a loop of metal that is ringed through the head. The big loop of metal that was shoved through his piss slit so many years ago is attached to his nipples, and the two little chains are short enough that it stretches his cock, up and away from his body. He's not hard...not by a long shot, not without balls he's not. Still, with the chains pulling his once proud cock it rises up anyway, held up, permanently, up in the air and stretched by the chains that goes from the tip all the way to his nipples.

He hates the chain...hates the way it pulls on his ringed cock and stretches it out. The chains pull on his nipples too, and cause them to point downward. I laugh...his misery is good for my sales, and his ass rents for a good price and lately it has been renting well. People pass by the store and see him, and as they look his cock, held up and out of the way, cannot cover his empty sac where I had his balls snipped out.

It's just an empty sac of skin now...the essence of his manhood long since gone and stolen from him. He's a eunuch, not a man, and his ass is ready for fucking and there are many men willing to do it. It's popular, and legal, and since he is ball-less and has no rights it is good for him to stretch open his legs and make me rich, serving the men that come to my shop, men with balls and money, who want his greased hole and will pay to take it.

I am in the stands now, along with the others. I have a reserved seat, and the two enlisted men, the men with the monster sacs, have been pledged to me. I think the council is glad to know where they will be found, and I'm sure they will no doubt partake of the sweetness of what I will hold for them. I wasn’t able to get the officer, but that’s OK really, and the other two will do well for me. The officer is going to our military garrison after he is nutted, to live his life there serving our own enlisted men that are in need of a hole.

It's good to give our young soldiers a place for their seed, as it prevents the pent up frustration that otherwise fills their days in the army. So, I do not pity the enemy officer, and I wonder if they will keep him locked in his canque. I suspect he will stay locked in and helpless, fed when they feel like it and used when they want. It's not going to be a good life, and before it is done I'm sure he will wish he no longer had to live it.

There is a commotion then, and as we all look we can see the trio being brought down for it to be done. They are being led by growing boys, the boys holding the loops of string that are noosed around the soldier's balls. The boys tug on them, and it jerks their sacs, and the prisoners respond by walking faster as they grunt. You would think they would fight it more, knowing they are walking to their own castrations, but they don't.

Instead, they follow the boys, walking behind them, like obedient ponies being led to their gelding. They walk onward step by step, and the excitement grows in the crowd as they get closer. Of course, with each step they take they get closer to the table and to their own unmanning. They know it...but they walk anyway...the pull of the string painful, the jerk of it sharp and biting, and their tender balls sore from the days of having it done to them. So, they come, closer....for their own castration almost as if they are eager for it.

The big table is waiting. It's been specially made for their nutting, and it's immediately obvious they will be done one by one. The table is new, and the wood is green and fresh. It is made of oak, with a top that is almost four inches thick. On the one end, the closest end to us, there is a 4 x 4 inch square timber that has been cut and is bolted to the top of the table, running right along the edge of the table and across the width. There are also two vertical boards that are bolted to the sides of the table, and there is a grove in them that forms a channel and small holes along the grove. I have no idea what they are for.

At the other end of the table, is a mounting bracket made to accept the canque. It will obviously hold them totally still, locking their canque to the table itself, so that they will not be able to move until after their balls are taken. I see it all clearly. Even though they are huge, powerful men, it will still be very easy to secure them, and once it has been done, even easier to nut them. They don't have a chance. Looking at them, as they get closer and closer, you would think they would try and run. But the chain around their ankles and the leash around their balls holds them fast, and so they don’t.

Instead, they stagger from the weight of the canques around their necks...struggling under the load, feeling it, the strings around their balls being relentlessly tugged by the young boys that drag them to their fate. They sway as they walk...fighting the big collar of wood they wear, their hands stuck up almost as if they are being forced to wave to the crowd as they come by.

The three lads that are leading them, jerking on the strings that are tied to those massive balls, are teenagers and yet they look almost tiny next to the hulks that define the soldiers. Every time one of the soldiers stops or tries to turn or slowdown, one of the boys jerks his string, hard, and the soldier grunts and his head goes back and his hips jut forward. His balls bounce forward with the pull as well...his entire scrotum so fat and so large that it's obvious it is everything to the man that carries it. Well, too bad I say. They wanted to attack us...and now they will be nutted. So be it. That’s what I say!

The officer is being led by a young blond haired youth. The kid has bright, blue eyes, and he is grinning as he walks the soldier to his castration. The boy is young, and I guess his age to be thirteen. His face is smooth, and his white shirt, starched, is unbuttoned down its length and his smooth boyish chest seems to emphasize his age. Of course, while he has barely begun his push into manhood, soon he will be far more of a man than the huge man he is walking. That's a funny thought, and I can't help but giggle.

The men come....unwillingly but they do it anyway. The chains clink on the ground from where they are shuffling their feet, and the big sacks sway in the wind as they hang waiting for what is about to happen. The officer is first to the table, and the young blond boy just drags him up to it. You can see him staring at it, his eyes open wide and scared as he stares at the place where he will be unmanned. He looks around, his eyes darting, and our faces stare at him with glee and excitement. There is fear on his face, and humiliation too, and the contrast between the fear he has and the joy we feel could not be more stark.

There are two enlisted guards there, from our own army, and they grasp the sides of his canque and just pull the officer forward, over the table so that he is drawn up and onto it. He's face down, and his canque drops into a slot that has been made to hold it, and then they drop a wooden piece over the top of it to hold it in place. I think it's too heavy for him to raise it up anyway, but perhaps, when the knife makes its cut he will have enough strength that he could otherwise do it.

The soldier is pulled far enough forward that his feet are almost off the ground. He is resting on the 4x4 timber, pulled up over it so that it is just above his groin. His feet and ass are not on the table, but rather hanging off of it, off of the end of it, almost as if he has been left half-standing as they tie him down. His ass is prominently displayed for all of us to see. The two men that are securing him unsnap a link in the center of the chain that binds the soldier's feet, and then they take the two pieces that are still chained to his ankles and stretch them apart.

His legs are brought outward, and secured to the legs of the table. They do it in seconds, by just dropping a link of each chain over two iron nails that have been placed there for that purpose. With his legs spread out, wide, they form that wide inverted "V" and expose his sac for what is to come. Only his toes rest on the dirt, and he is totally helpless, bent over the heavy table and now locked to it. It has only taken minutes to secure him, and while his muscles ripple and he thrust his head back he really can't do anything.

Next, as we all watch, they pick up a flat board. I notice that it has been made so that it fits perfectly in between the two upright beams that have been grooved to hold it. The board fits exactly, and has been sanded smooth, and it slides down the groove until it rests on the small of his back, just above his ass. They push down on it, harder, and as they do it pushes the small of his back downward. With the 4 x 4 above his groin, under him, and the small of his back being pushed down from the top, his bottom is forced upward, jutting really, just held up perched and eager and ready. With two little wooden dowels they pin the board across his back in place, and when they do he is ready for his castration.

His legs are spread, wide, and his big scrotum hangs down, full of his balls and everyone is eager. The string around his balls, the one that the boy was using as a leash, hangs down to below the man's knees, still tied around his sac and trapping his balls like plums ripe for picking. As we all watch, the blond haired boy picks up the string one more time, and then, with all of his strength, he jerks the two pieces of the twine separately, and as he does the knot is cinched closed with a snap.

As the string is cinched up tight, the captured officer reacts and struggles. He slams his head back against his canque, and you can see him puling down hard with his arms and his wrists are smashed as he attempts to withdraw them. His hips pull up tight, his knees drawn slightly together as he jerks against the chains. It's obvious that when the boy snapped the noose around his nuts closed, it must have hurt like hell. He has his eyes wide open, staring at the crowd that is staring at him, waiting; waiting with disbelief for his own unmanning almost like a pony waits for his gelding.

His two enlisted men are staring at him, at their commander, now waiting with his legs spread for his castration. You can see them, staring, the fear real and intense, and yet they stand and wait, off to the side and out of the way, their balls trapped by their own strings that are still in the hands of the boys that have brought them. As they watch the final preparations being done to unman their commander, they have to realize it is going to happen and all hope is lost.

There is a murmur in the crowd then, and the army cutter appears. I had been told the army would be sending their own, since these men are soldiers, but I was not expecting a woman, and it surprises me. She is young, and enlisted, and I gauge her age at eighteen or nineteen. She has big, ripe breasts and she wears the close clipped regulation haircut of the army. She has a small cap on too, and it accentuates her status. She almost looks like a boy, but her big tits show otherwise, and as she comes to the table it is obvious she is a little nervous.

Her regulation halter is made of leather, and it lifts her breasts and spreads them, drawing everyone's gaze to them. The way it is built the nipples are exposed, and open, and it supports her breast and pushes them up and out. It's all regulation, and her rank is visible on her sleeve.

She might be a woman, but she's well trained, and there is no doubt that she is determined. There are many cutters they could have used, and as I look at her, and her breasts packed in her regulation leather brassier I have to wonder why they picked her. Perhaps it’s the idea of a young woman doing their unmanning, and it no doubt has made an impression on the three that are to be castrated. Well, so be it. I don't really care who wields the knife, as long as they do it right and the sac is taken.

She walks to the head of the table, where the officer is locked into his canque, and she runs her hand through his hair and feels the stubble on his cheeks. He is staring at her, at her tits even, and she tosses his hair and laughs. They lock eyes then, and stare at each other for several long seconds, the young enlisted girl and the enemy officer. She gives him a wink, and his face goes white with fear. Still, he says nothing, struggling to hold on to his pride, perhaps trying to be an example for his men. She slowly moves to the other end, to where his legs are spread and waiting. She whispers to the boy with the blue eyes, and he grins.

Then, as we all watch, the boy reaches over to a side table and picks up a small little paddle. It's not that big...perhaps a foot in length, but is a good 1/2 inch thick and it's made of oak, like the table. The men are to be punished before they are castrated, because of their plan against the city. The boy holds the paddle, and with a nod from the cutter, he begins to move his arm and to paint the officer's ass.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

He just works that paddle over the man's buttocks, working it up under his cheeks and across his perched-up bottom. She says something else to him, and he spreads the soldier's crack and works the paddle up and down its length. Faster and faster the boy works the paddle, smacking the soldier, painting his rear, and slowly you can see it begin to turn color. The man's snow white ass is soon pink, and then red, and then redder still as the boy re-paddles the area he has already paddled.

He's working it, faster and faster, and the man on the table begins to squirm. He can't really do anything, but just lay and take it, but as his ass is spanked like some errant schoolboy's his face begins to grow red from the shame. He struggles, but with the board in his back his ass is perched up, almost like his bottom is begging for it, perched up and eager and jutting. His eyes are wet too, and the crowd laughs as the young boy paddles the big soldier until his ass is blistered.

Soon, we are all laughing. The paddle of course emphasizes the soldier's helplessness, the point clear that the big man can do nothing to prevent what will happen. He tries to struggle, but he can't move, and so he just lays there and feels his bottom glowing like a furnace as the young boy slams the board into it. The soldier's eyes are wide open, and yet he doesn’t yell, or call out, and instead he just grits his teeth and fights the misery that his ass is becoming. Finally, the boy is done, and the man's ass is bright red and even purple, and it is glowing.

The cutter turns to us, and pulls out her knife and shows it. It is serrated, which surprises me, and it is mean and wicked and it glints in the light. I can see the army symbol on its handle. She walks around to the front of the officer, and shows it to him next, and as she grins the look on his face is priceless. He stares at her blade, and the edge that will unman him, and in that instant he knows it will be done. It's enough, and then he breaks and after that he is begging.

She laughs, and gives him another wink. Then she walks around behind him, even as he continues to babble and beg, desperate, broken, willing to say anything if it will save him from what is about to be done. With one view of her blade she has broken him, and we are all smiling. As I look at his men waiting their own turns I can see that they are ashamed for him and for the way he is begging. Then, she nods to the boy, and he puts his hand on the top of the man's ass, feeling it, feeling his strength and his desperation as she prepares to cut him.

I lean forward, so as not to miss this moment. She takes the man's sac, which is more than she can hold, and cups it, pulling out on it and stretching his balls. He slams his head back again against the wood around his neck, and his eyes are wide as he feels her holding everything that makes him a man.

"PLEASE...........GOD....PLEASE...NOOOOOOOOOOOO! FOR GOD'S SAKE---I'M AN OFFICER!!!!" he yells. She fondles his sac, and his prick grows stiff, then stiffer....and she seems to feel his balls and gently work her fingers over the skin there as she listens to him beg. I can tell as an enlisted woman she is savoring every minute of it.

The light touch of the young woman is too much for him. In seconds he is stiff...his hose jutting beneath him, and his foreskin retracts and the big purple head of his hard cock becomes visible. She squeezes between his two nuts, between the testicles, and they separate apart within his sac. After the space has been made, she just pushes the knife into him then, into his scrotum, between the space where his balls were. With a jerk, she brings the knife straight down, and out, so that his sac has been split right in two.

His entire body spasms with her cut, and the man's big thigh muscles strain as he attempts to pull his legs together. He screams "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" He is ballistic then, jerking his head and wrists and twisting within the canque that holds him prisoner. His ass muscles tighten, and he slams up, hard, against the restraint board that holds him in position. His frantic gestures make her smile. Grinning, she takes her knife and slides it along the top of his sac, through the skin there, ringing it with the edge of her blade. She rolls the knife all the way around the top of his scrotum even as he grunts and screams.

Of course, the man is beside himself, and to the horror of the two soldiers watching his mouth is open and he is screaming like a cut pig. She doesn't care and if anything, it excites her. She is grasping his ringed sac, and with a jerk of her fist she pulls it downward. The man's entire scrotum seems to come off then, or at least the outside of it does. The man's testicles are still there however, attached and left behind, hanging down without the sac to protect them, the two orbs held by their cords and literally swinging between his legs like little individual grapes ripe for the taking. I've never seen anything like it, and the girl is laughing at the misery she is making.

The younger of the two enlisted men faints, and he hits the ground with a thud. I have to admit, it’s a shock. For the man being castrated, he is slamming his body within his restraints, but still he's secured so well that there is nothing he can do. Surprisingly, half castrated, he starts to spurt out his seed, and you can see his balls, literally, as they pulsate and pump out his wad and spurt it into the dirt beneath the table.

There is very little blood. The knot around the man's balls has done its job, and as I watch his red ass jerk and thrust into the table, his wad continues to pump for almost a minute. His balls flail and swing, and the woman flicks her finger and pops them, which makes them dance at the end of their strings. He grunts, and his big thighs jerk with each hit, but he continues to pump out his wad as she flicks his balls.

Finally, he is finished and his wad is done. The woman laughs, and grabs his dangling orbs, and she pulls them downward then, hard and slow. She stretches them....and the cords stretch out farther than you would have thought was possible. Then, even farther still. The man bucks against his restraints, banging his head on the canque. She pulls slowly, and soon his balls are almost to his knees, and then, finally, she pulls some more and they snap, one by one, and the cords seem to disappear up and inside of him. After that his castrated balls are in her hand and it is done.

The officer has been unmanned and there is a thunderous applause. She grabs the loose skin that is still left at the top, and with a short sawing motion she pulls the knife through it and finishes the job. There is nothing there, nothing where his huge sac was only moments before. His balls are gone, and the last wad of his life is left spent and wasted in the dirt beneath his legs.

I think she is done but I'm wrong. As a final indignity, she pulls down and back on his cock, which is rapidly shrinking from what is in all likelihood his last boner. Then, holding the end of it, she squeezes the skin there and pulls out on it, grabbing the man's foreskin and stretching it out well past the end of his cock. With another jerk of her knife she cuts the skin off then, circumcising him with a single slice. What's left of his skin snaps back, leaving the end of his dick exposed to the air for the first time, and it is red and raw, and glistening. There is a little bleeding, but not that much, and she pats his ass with her hand and then she is finished.

The officer hasn’t moved since she took his balls. His eyes are still open, staring, the shock of what has been done to him just more than he can really comprehend. He's a circumcised eunuch now, and no longer a man, and now that it has been done his ass is legal and ready. As they pull him from the table I know he is headed for the dental shop, where they will pull his teeth to make a second hole to fuck. I smile. I know he will spend his life with his holes open and making pleasure for the enlisted men who will be eager for it. Well, I am glad, and I feel nothing for him.

In only a few minutes they have dragged him away and are pulling the only soldier that his standing to the table. He doesn’t want to come, but the boy who holds the string around his balls is pulling forward anyway, and he comes because of it, to his own castration, even though he knows what it means.

I look at the boy. He too is young, and I guess his age at fourteen. He has a wisp of darkening fuzz on his upper lip, but other than that there is no sign he has even entered adolescence. Of course, he has, and his own prick is eager, stiff, in his pants and jutting out as he drags the big soldier for his unmanning. As I see the bulge in his pants, I have the same thought about him as I did on the other young man. In only a few minutes this young boy will be far more of a man than this soldier ever will be again. For some reason, that makes me smile.

As they drag him over the table and lock down his canque, which traps his head and wrists, he struggles. He bucks his hips, and kicks with his shackled legs. He's desperate, and he's powerful. They drop the restraint board over his back, and push it down. It juts up his ass, and holds him firmly to the table, and after that he's pretty much helpless. He can't do anything to stop what they are doing, and it doesn’t take them much of an effort then to tie his legs out and after that he is ready. Before he knows it he too is in that perfect inverted "V", his balls hanging down and ready, his fat sack swinging as it waits for the knife.

The cutter walks in front of him, and I can see them staring at each other. The young army girl, a teen, staring at the huge man she is going to castrate. He is looking at her, his eyes begging, and as she pulls out the knife she will use and shows it to him he gags. He almost vomits, and like the officer before him, the look of the blade breaks him. Even the strongest man alive will wilt when faced with the imminent loss of his balls. As he stares at her tits, his balls, in spite of their pending fate, feel the need, and his cock stirs. After that he too is begging then....and she laughs and tosses his hair. Then, with a wink, she leaves and walks to the side, running her little hand along his back, feeling his sweat, until it rides up over his rump and down, through his crack and then beneath his legs.

She whispers something to the boy, and then he too has the paddle and soon enough it is slamming it into the soldier's rear. The man bucks and grunts and fights it, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Faster and faster, harder and harder the kid slams that paddle into the soldier's upturned bottom, and after that in only a few minutes he has made it cherry red.

The cutter takes the ends of his leash that nooses his balls, and gives them a hard jerk, cinching off his balls and readying them for their destruction. Then, she grabs the man's fat sac, and stretches it out....pulling down and back on it until it is stretched away from his body. The restrained soldier is staring straight ahead, at the crowd who is watching, and as he feels his scrotum in her hand you can tell he is freaking.

She hands her knife to the young boy, and he grins. Then, under her guidance, the teenager lays the blade up next to the tie, at the neck of the giant scrotum. The man tries to buck his hips, but with the board jammed down in the small of his back and the big 4 x 4 under him, he really can't do anything. She nods then, and the young kid starts to saw the knife, sliding the serrated edge right through the top of the man's fat scrotum.

It is too much for him. The big soldier spurts out his load, his wad joining the puddle from his commander that is beneath the table. Squirt after squirt of his white semen juts from the end of his cock, fast, pumping out under pressure as he ejaculates. It goes on and on, as the boy works the knife through his nuts, and it's almost as if he is desperate to fertilize something, before his balls are gone and it is no longer possible. Of course, his seed shoots out, wasted, splashing between his legs and there is nothing there for him to fertilize except the mud left from his cohort.

He grunts, screams then, and jerks hard against the restraints while he is cumming. The knife makes the slice easily, and then as we watch his entire sac comes free, balls and all, the thing pulsating in her hand as she holds it up for the crowd to see. The boy who has made the slice is grinning, more of a man by far now than the eunuch he has made. The cutter drops the man's balls into the young teen's hand, and directs him to show them to the man who owned them. The boy smiles, and walks around to the front of the canque, and shows the man his own balls. He stares at his fat sac, his eyes looking at it, the sight of it confirming what the sharp pain and feeling in his groin have already told him.

Suddenly, his eyes go wide and he gasps, and then he too yells again as he feels his unexpected circumcision. She did him in an instant, and his cock looks purple and raw as the end of it is exposed to the air forevermore. It's still semi-stiff, but his boner is rapidly deflating, and it occurs to me that it may never get hard again. I don't care, and I'll have a ring in his piss slit within a week, along with his tits, and his soft prick chained up and away from the empty groin. As I look at his last boner and missing sac I know that I will do well with him.

The fight is gone from him, at least for now. As they take him down from the table, he is no longer able to even support the weight of the canque. Well, that’s fine by me. I have no intention of letting him out of it. I only want his hole, and his comfort is not of my concern.

They drag him away to the healing area, and pick up the last soldier who fainted. He's still out, and he does not struggle as they pick him up like a rag doll and lock him face down to the table. After they have his legs pulled out wide, and his canque is locked down, and the restraint board is in place, then they push some strong smelling salts under his nose and his eyes snap open. He freaks, realizing at once where he is, tied down now tight and ready and waiting.

It's hard to say, even though he's the youngest, but I think his sac is the biggest of the three, and I am eager to watch it be emptied. The cutter goes around to the front, and faces him. She pulls out her knife, and when he sees it he begins to babble, his mind racing as he struggles to find something to say to get her to change her mind.

"Please....OH PLEASE DON'T! I'm only nineteen! I lied when I joined! Please, I swear...shit...I'm your age for God's sake! Please, not my balls! You don't understand...."

She is looking at him, listening to him, and his eyes stare back at her. I can see his eyes go to her tits....and as they do his prick stirs and we can all see it. She notices where he is looking, and it almost, for a second, seems to please her. Then he says: "Oh GOD....I LOVE TO FUCK...please, I know how to please a woman. Please. I'm good at it. PLEASE....for God's sake don't do this. Make me a slave. Let me work. Take me, and make me yours. I'll give you pleasure -- I swear I will!"

Her face turns to disgust, and he realizes he is getting nowhere with this tactic. His eyes are wide, and he is desperate. "Oh GOD...my balls are all I have...have mercy. I'll do anything...ANYTHING! I am an only son and I have a girlfriend back home; please, at least let me father a boy of my own before you take my balls! PLEASE AT LEAST LET ME DO THAT!"

She laughs, and waves her knife, and then she says to him: "I'm glad you like to fuck...and I'm glad to know that you are good at it. I'm sure you will be happy that your future will be filled with fucking." She tosses his hair then, and with a wink she walks behind him, to take his balls and end his hope of ever becoming a father.

The boy who had led him to his castration is waiting with the paddle in his hand. I know him, and his name is Cody. He's seventeen, and I like him. His eyes sparkle. His hair is jet black, with a fuzz on his lip that is pronounced and is a clear indicator he is well into his jump to manhood. His white shirt is open like the others, and his dime sized nipples and hairless chest seem to emphasize his youthfulness. From my angle, I catch a glimpse of a tuft of hair from his right armpit, and it is damp with sweat and is as black as the rest of his hair. He's just so fresh and eager, and as I watch him holding that paddle he is grinning from ear to ear. She nods, and he brings the paddle down, hard, across the man's upturned ass.

The man bucks against his restraints, and grunts, and then after that the boy just pulverizes his bottom. It goes on for perhaps six or seven minutes, and the spanking humiliates the soldier. Cody's muscles are ripped, and his body is defined, and as he wields the paddle he is slamming it with all of his force. The man starts crying then, the tears running down his face, and the snot, literally dripping from his nose. He looks like a misbehaved teenager, whose father has sent his little brother to paddle and to paddle him well. I can't help but smile.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The teenage boy just paints his ass, moving the little board up and inside of his crack. The bottoms of his cheeks are flame-red, and soon enough the soldier's entire ass is glowing like the sun. Still, with the board in his back he perches his ass up, high, and begging for it. Everyone is laughing, and the paddling emphasizes the helplessness of the man whose balls are waiting.

Finally, his ass is literally cherry red and glowing, and it is done and the time arrives. She snaps the ends of his leash, and nooses his balls closed in the process. He slams his head back, hard, into his canque, and grunts from the pain of it. He's desperate then, as he feels it begin, and tries to jerk within his restrains. His back is glistening, and he is wet with sweat all along its length and even into the crack of his ass.

She smiles, and runs her hand over his sweat, feeling it. Then, she takes his sac in her hand, and the serrated knife in the other. We all watch, and the man stares at the crowd watching back. He has no hope, and is filled with panic. He continues to pull against his restraints, and the chains that bind his ankles rattle. His hose hangs down, his erection gone with his fear, hanging now scared, and limp.

She hesitates then, and for a second I'm not sure she is going to do it. Then a sly smile spreads across her face, and she says to him: "Ahhhh...perhaps you are right. So, you say you are good at fucking? Well, I'll tell you what....if you can keep from cumming, I'll hold off on your castration. If you are as good as you say you are, that shouldn't be a problem. What do you think...shall we see if you're THAT good?"

He stares at us. It’s a hell of a question she has asked, but perhaps for the male, desperate and with everything to lose it represents some hope in an otherwise hopeless situation. He nods his head, desperate, the back of it slamming into the canque. His eyes are wide, and perhaps he really believes he can pull it off. Is it hope he has? If so, I have the feeling it is misplaced. Then she turns back to the boy who has been helping her, and says to him: "Make him cum....and then I will nut him."

Cody grins, and then reaches down, under the table, and grabs the soldier's limp hose and starts to work it with his teenage fist. We all start chanting....laughing as the teenage boy works the soldier's thick pole. His dick looks even bigger in the boy's hand, and as we watch it grows ever stiffer by the second.

The man in the canque realizes what is at stake, and yet in spite of his claims he seems powerless to control his boner. One thing a teenage boy knows how to do is jerk a cock, and as we watch it's quite apparent that Cody is well practiced in the art of masturbation. Soon he has the soldier's dick stiff and eager, the end dripping and his foreskin retracted and the big, bulbous head exposed and glistening. The cutter is holding his balls, and the knife rests against the top of his sac. Still, the young teen pumps the man's rod fast and quickly, with a little added twist of his wrist, and as he does the man's balls jiggle in the woman's hand. Time seems to stand still, and the soldier fights the feeling. We are all smiling, waiting for his own dick to betray him.

I have to say I'm enjoying it. The man seems desperate to keep from ejaculating, wanting to keep his nuts so badly he would do anything to keep from doing it. Of course it will be his last time, and you would think he would want to just go with the feeling and try to enjoy it. Oh well, you can see him fighting the feeling instead, trying to hold off the last chance for his pleasure, and yet it is obvious he is not going to succeed.

Cody knows exactly what he is doing, and he is doing it well. The man's prick grows even stiffer, as the teenager pumps him, even as he wills it not too, and soon enough he's on the edge and all is about to be lost. His eyes are open, his mouth too, straining, staring at the crowd and their eager faces as they watch him lose control. He's in shock, and then he gasps, and then after that he is yelling, begging as he squirts, and as he blows his wad and it pumps into the dirt the woman begins to make the cut and after that it is being done.

"Oh...Daddy...oh...NOOOOOOOO!!!!" he screams.

She starts sawing the blade then, working it slowly and methodically through the top of his fat sac even as he pumps his last wad into the dirt. He squirts, his ropes of cum joining the puddle from his friends. It splatters out, in white lines of cum, splashing between his legs as the teen boy milks him dry. He screams as he ejaculates, the sharpness of the blade stealing his pleasure, and then after that his fat sac is free and in her hand even as he still pumps out the last of his seed. She holds it up, and the audience applauds with a thunderous roar.

Then, she hands the big sac to the boy who had done the milking, and he grins from ear to ear. You can see the excitement in his eyes as he holds the fat sac, warm and quivering, stuffed full with the severed balls of the young man he pumped dry. Cody walks around to the front of him then, and lets the new eunuch look at his own balls, and as he moves them in front of his face the soldier's eyes follow them. I can't describe his look really. It might be sadness, perhaps...or it might be a longing to have them back. Perhaps it’s a look of total defeat, the feeling of doom as he lives his unmanning. I don't know what it is, but I do know that it brings a smile to my face and I cannot help but grinning after that.

The young soldier murmurs: "Oh daddy....they took my balls."

Then, almost as an afterthought, while the young castrated soldier is staring at his severed sac, she pulls backwards on his wilting cock, and pulls the skin outward, pinching it between her fingers. She pulls it as hard as she can, until almost three inches of his skin is stretched out over the end of his hose. Then, with a single slice, she slides the serrated blade through the skin and leaves him circumcised. What's left of his skin snaps back, and his dick looks raw and purple, the end wet with his juice and bobbing from his heartbeat as it pulsates and feels the air. It is red and raw, and glistening, exposed forevermore, and he seems to grunt from it being done. Finally, she just reaches out and slaps his bright red ass with her hand and then she is finished.

A month later I own them and they are a part of my shop. With the pair and the old one I had, I have three holes now and my business is booming. I use one of the new ones in the window, on display, still locked in his canque and forced to stare at everyone that passes by. I have had both of their scrotums stuffed and tanned, and I keep them hanging around their necks like reminders of what they once had. My window-man, as I call him, has his legs spread, and his ankles are chained to pegs in the floor. His ever-soft cock is strung up, the ring through his piss slit and my two little chains tying it up, one to each nipple that stretches it out in a permanent, faked erection.

The other two are inside, locked down and a part of the beds that hold them, so that their asses are stuck up and eager, their legs spread and their holes open and waiting. I change the two new eunuchs out with each other so that there is a different one in the window and a new hole each day. Each morning I wash the ones to be fucked out, making sure their holes are open and clean, and then I squirt in the warm lubricant until it fills their bowels.

A lot of men come by my store to do their fucking. Being eunuchs, these once proud soldiers have no rights anymore, and since they are no longer men or women but sexless entities they are ripe for fucking and it is legal to sell them.

Even married men that would normally only fuck their wives will still drop by my Relief Shop to fuck a eunuch, and for some of them it is a regular occurrence, especially when their women are bleeding and the time of the month is wrong. They come, because I have the eunuchs and it's acceptable and it's not even considered cheating.

Straight single men will do it often too, as it’s a cheap date and the relief is certain. Some wealthy men come by my shop on a daily basis, to get a quick squirt before they head home at night. I know I do something right, and my reputation exceeds me. Personally, I think it’s the way that I lubricate the hole and more than one man has told me that the feeling is incredible. I've even been told by some it's better than any woman. Perhaps that is why they come, or perhaps it is the feeling of power that they gain from mounting such a being. My shop is well respected; I know that much and I am not ashamed of my business.

Earlier today I had a special treat. Just after lunch I looked up and Cody was in my store. Immediately I thought of the last time I saw the teenager, with his jet black hair glistening in the light and his face covered with sweat as he pumped that huge cock and helped take those balls. Well, today he came to me, on his birthday, as it turned out. He was grinning, and he had his birthday money, and he offered all of it to buy his first fuck. I almost laughed at his eagerness, and he admitted that since that day a month ago he has thought of nothing else.

I like Cody. God...eighteen now. Wow...just oh-so-perfect. In a very real way he is a sex machine, and built for fucking. His body is strong, and filled with vitality, and yet he was so nervous he could hardly stand.

It's been way too many years for me to remember my own first time, but watching him and his nervousness I could not help but smile. I escorted him into the room, where his eunuch was waiting, tied out and with his legs spread. When the youth saw him, his eyes lit up and his dark hair seemed to glisten. I nodded my head and smiled, and then I handed him back his money. This one was on me.

With my encouragement, Cody pulled off his shirt, over his head, and God he looked good! I love a young man's chest, smooth with tiny nipples and a flat, ripped belly to match. Cody's back was defined too and his muscles were perfect. Then, with a little prodding, he opened his pants and his thin cock sprung out like a twisted coil of metal, up and eager, jutting even, his cock end round and perfect and glistening with anticipation. His balls were already drawn up round and tight, full of cream and begging to be emptied. I could tell he had been thinking about this moment for a very long time. His pubic hair was small, just a rounded patch of it, and it seemed to emphasize his virginity.

His cock jutted up from his patch of hair though, and while it still had some growing to do, it was as hard as any cock I've ever seen. The boy's dick wasn’t that thick, but it was certainly eager enough, and the end was purple and his piss slit was glistening with a bead of fluid. The eunuch recognized him, and his face blushed red with the shame and the humiliation of what was about to happen. I could see the eunuch looking over his shoulder and staring at the boy's boner, longing for it perhaps, the prick so stiff and eager and in sharp contrast to his own limp noodle.

I nodded, and Cody went forward. I almost left, but I didn't want the eunuch talking or causing any problems, because this moment was too important and the boy deserved to have it go well. So, I decided to stay and give him encouragement. I slipped a gag over the eunuch's mouth, just to make sure, and then I went behind him to monitor the moment of penetration. The youth was too eager to care I think, and I could tell he was nervous and uncertain how to proceed.

Cody leaned forward, and put his hands on the eunuch's ass, and then tried to stab his dick in the waiting hole. It was spread wide open, and ringed with hair, and yet as hard as the boy tried he couldn't quite hit it. He tried five times and then his face flushed red. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Then I said "Use your hand Cody and guide it in." The boy blushed even redder, but then he did it, and as he pushed it in the warm oil that filled the hole squirted out and covered his cock and then ran down the eunuchs leg's.

Cody gasped as he entered him, the warmth and tightness and wetness all merging into that incredible feeling that can never be adequately described. After that instinct took over and he began to make the thrusting motion that all hard males know how to do. In and out his dick slid, and the teenage eunuch underneath him grunted from the shame. Cody was in heaven, and his head was back and he closed his eyes and then he really began to rock his hips and make his thrusts.

He was just slamming his hips in and out after that, faster and faster, desperate even, the sweat running down his back and his eyes just slits and glazed with lust. It was almost as if he was in a hurry, driven perhaps by eighteen years of waiting. I don't know what was driving him, but I didn't want him to miss out on the full intensity of the experience.

I told him to slow down, to savor the feeling of the hot ass he was fucking, and the boy smiled, and then with a nod, he slowed his pace. Back and forth, and then in a circular motion, I gave him pointers and guided his fuck. I could tell he was in heaven. I watched him, spellbound really, and as I did I remembered the day a month ago when he had held the soldier's dick and pumped him dry, milking out the essence of his manhood even as the woman had cut off that huge sac of balls. I think the boy too must have been thinking of that, because he started to moan and his lips parted.

Still, I guided him, forced him to savor the experience, feeling all of it as he slid his cock in and out of the eunuch's hole. I went up to him, and whispered in his ear, describing the ass he was fucking and reminding him of the tits of the cutter. I finally got up the nerve, and rested my hand on the boy's rear, feeling him work his ass up and down as he slid his cock in and out like a piston. Cody didn't mind, and seemed perhaps even to enjoy it being there.

I was standing right next to him, whispering to him, watching the wisp of fuzz on his boyish cheeks as it caught the light. The sides of his hair were wet, with lines of sweat running down his face. It was obvious he was working hard as he did his pumping, sweating as he worked the feeling like only a teenager in lust can do.

I saw his tongue, and he flicked it...the tip visible between his lips and then after that he increased the pace and depth of his thrusts. In and out, faster and faster, the eunuch beneath him grunting into his gag from the strain. The entire bed was bouncing. I encouraged the teenager then, and told him to go for it. The boy was slamming his prick in and out then, all the way to his balls, which began to smack into the eunuch's ass with a slap-slap-slap sound. I noticed Cody's back was wet, with sweat, and his black hair under his arms glistened. Finally, the boy arched his back, and his eyes went wide, and then, he looked at me and I at him. "Ohhhhhhhh...OH YEAH" he said, as his dick spasmed and after that he was grunting it out, his eyes wide and glazed and his mouth open in ecstasy. His entire body shuddered as he began to empty his virgin balls.

He stared at me, even as he grunted and felt the feeling and I watched him watch me as he squirted out his teenage load. I don't know how big his wad was, but his ejaculation seemed to go on forever, and his wad was big enough that it started to foam out around his cock and onto the bed as the eunuch's hole could no longer contain it. The eunuch felt it, that much is certain, and he grunted as the boy's wad splashed into his prostate.

Finally, Cody finished, and lay there for a minute or two and savored the feeling. Finally, he pulled his still stiff dick out with a slurp and a pop. The eunuch gasped then, and then I saw his tears, and after that he was staring at the floor and his face was red with shame.

The boy, in contrast, was grinning from ear to ear, staring at the ass he had mounted and, in a way, conquered. His semen dribbled in a line, from the end of his cock and from the hole he had fucked. I had to smile, and the boy turned to me, his face as bright as the son. God Cody's a cute young man! I tossed his hair, and left him then to dress himself, smiling as I thought of what he had done and the world he had ahead of him. It was nice to be able to watch him as he became a man.

Yes...I like the soldiers, and the money they have brought me. They don't protest it really anymore, and instead just stare straight ahead as they are being fucked. I guess they've grown used to it, and their holes are large enough now that I don't think it hurts them anymore. Sometimes I will make them suck a cock, and they do it too, because I've made it clear that if they don't then I will take their teeth and they know I will. I've emptied my own balls in both of their holes, as well as made them suck me dry, so I have to say that I know what I have.

Of all the eunuch holes I've owned I think the nineteen year old soldier is my favorite. One thing is for certain. He said he was good at fucking, and he was right. Come now, and I'll give you a discount. His legs are spread, his ass is up and ready, and it glistens with a combination of warm oil and Cody's virgin cream. Why don't you let him pleasure you...I can see you are hard and I know that you must want it...

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