My Eunuch - Part 2

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Eric was still asleep as I loosened the ropes that tied his hands and feet to the bedposts. The first rays of dawn filled the room, revealing his taut, naked body, lying on his back across the length of the bed. Gazing at his crotch, I smiled. It was all over.

His scrotum was dark and swollen after nearly 10 hours of binding. The green elastrator band was still in place, having choked off the blood to his testicles. His soft uncircumsized cock lay still above his dead balls.

Eric stirred as I finished untying his feet. Reflexively, he reached down to feel his sack. “They’re ice cold,” he said, squeezing his balls. “I know,” I answered, leaning over to kiss his. He smiled up at me and tugged on my arm to join him in bed. I settled in next to him and wrapped my arms around him, cradling my eunuch’s lifeless sack in my hand.

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Eric and I had met less than six months before. The attraction was immediate, the sex passionate. We were the same age and the same build, but our bedroom preferences were completely opposite. Eric was passive and submissive, while I got off on domination.

I fucked him in every position, but our favorite had him lying on his stomach, his hands and feet tied to the bedposts. The bed would bounce as I thrust deep inside him, bringing forth groans of pleasure from him. After I shot my load, I’d untie him. More often than not, Eric had already emptied his sperm onto the sheets beneath him.

It was Eric who brought home the ball stretcher, begging me to tie up his nuts. His cock was rock-hard as I looped the leather strap around his sack. He wanted it tight enough so that his scrotum turned a deep purple. I’d only leave the stretcher on for 15 minutes at a time, for fear of damaging his nuts.

It became clear that Eric’s true identity was to be a slave. He loved being made to stay naked at all times, wearing a cock ring. I had him pierced in several places to give him permanent reminders that he belonged to me. He proudly showed off his nipple rings to our friends when they visited.

During sex, Eric would always try to stop before ejaculating, explaining that that privilege belonged only to me. He had become completely submissive, devoted only to my pleasure. It was wonderful having such an attentive lover.

I’m not sure when the idea of castration first came up. Eric mentioned seeing websites on the subject, but I never made the connection until one day when he brought home an elastrator. When I asked him what it was, he answered, “That’s what I want you to use on me. I want to become your eunuch.”

Even though we had evolved to some pretty rough sex play, the idea of castrating Eric shocked me. But he explained that he wanted to make this ultimate commitment to me. His submissive nature would only be fulfilled when he had ceased to be a sexual being.

He convinced me to do a trial run with the elastrator. After carefully shaving his balls, I slipped the band over the silver tool and stretched it wide enough to fit over his sack. When I released it, the band instantly compressed his scrotum into a tight package that almost immediately turned red.

Eric groaned and began squirming. We left the band on for about 10 minutes before I snipped it off. I didn’t want to inflict that much pain on him, no matter how strong his desire to be castrated.

A few days later, Eric told me he had contacted a cutter online. This guy offered to castrate Eric, but he told him that he wanted that privilege to be mine alone. So they came up with a compromise – the cutter would allow me to band Eric, and then would finish the job after his balls were dead. I agreed to the plan.

We chose the following Saturday for the big event. The day was nonstop sex, as both of us were intensely aroused by the idea of the castration. I insisted that Eric have one last orgasm before we begin, and he gratefully accepted. I licked his nipples as he frantically jerked his cock. His face had a look of total pleasure as he shot his cum across his chest. I licked it off him, and kissed him deeply, sharing his last ejaculation with him.

After the sun went down, we began. Eric lay on his back, spread eagled, and I tied his hands and feet to the bedposts. I used hot washcloths to loosen his scrotum until his balls settled into the bottom of the sack.

He breathed deeply as I slipped the band over his sack. “Are you ready?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded, and I released the band. “Oh shit,” he groaned, straining against the ropes.

In a matter of minutes, Eric’s sack was a deep purple. He shifted back and forth, moaning. I used a damp washcloth to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and the tears from his cheeks.

A sedative he had taken shortly before we began was starting to work. Eric’s breathing slowed, and his struggles ended. After nearly an hour, he drifted into unconsciousness.

I watched Eric sleep, keeping an eye on the clock next to the bed. When two hours had passed, I knew he was probably past the point of no return. But the cutter had insisted he remain banded until the following morning, just to make sure. So I continued to sit in the chair, watching as Eric’s testicles slowly died.

In the morning, the cutter arrived to inspect the damage. “These nuts are dead,” he said after closely examining Eric. “Time to take them off.”

He gave Eric an injection and waited for the numbness to set in. I watched as he took a small scalpel and carefully cut around the sack. He dropped the scrotum into a metal dish and stitched the wound closed. I stared in awe at what once was Eric’s sexuality, now sacrificed for our love.

Eric showed no regrets for his decision. There were some setbacks, especially the hot flashes that followed. But we both thrilled at the effects of the castration – the end of his erections, the gradual softening of his body.

Our lovemaking is even more intense today. Looking down at his limp dick as I fuck him, I know that my eunuch will always be with me.