New Order a'Coming, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There were a dozen other children there, and when Carol announced the first game was to be "Pin the Tail on Daddy," they all cheered. That was a favorite of children everywhere, and Maddie was always sure to include it in her own birthday parties. I had been used as the target of that game more times than I care to remember, so knew what to expect.

The children went to a nearby picnic table to choose the tails they would use. They were slightly different in design, but each was a small-size reproduction of an animal's tail. The similarity was that each of the tails was attached to a thin needle, about four inches in length. After making their selections, the girls stood in line behind Carol, waiting their turn to be the center of attention.

Since she was the party girl, Carol went first. She approached her suspended father, who by then had quieted enough to allow him to know what was about to happen. He began to whimper in anticipation of the pain he would soon be feeling, and that caused the children and the female guests to laugh. Believe me when I say that none of the males were feeling at all humorous, and me more than any, knowing my own time was soon to come.

The man's penis was bobbing up and down, and leaking pre-cum in its drug-induced arousal. His daughter took the thing in one hand, and then appeared to concentrate as if trying to recall the location of the pain points. At last she began the game, and her father's cries of pain told everybody she had learned her lessons well.

She held the needle with the point straight up, slightly below and off center of the glans. With a giggle of girlish delight, she began to push the needle up and through the edge of the cock head. When the point had penetrated about 1/2", she angled the shaft of the needle to cause the point to break through the skin. She then pushed it a short distance before again causing it to enter the flesh. She continued that "sewing" motion until the needle had entered, exited, then entered again a total of three times. The needle was then centered on the head of her father's cock, and the miniature donkey's tail hung free.

As the man gave voice to the pain and torment his daughter had given him, she stepped back and bowed to the guests. As one, they began to applaud, except for the males, of course. To a man, every one of us was standing there with our hands protectively in front of our crotches.

The second girl took her place in front of the suspended man, and she, too, took his penis in one hand to hold it in place. She was obviously less experienced than her friend, since she was content to just push her needle through the head, entering on one side and exiting out the other. She was disappointed that her efforts had not produced the sort of reaction she expected, since all the man did was scream once in pain, and then sob quietly as his body sagged there. Still, when she turned to the guests, they applauded.

The ten other little girls took their turns, each vying with the ones before her to produce the loudest screams and the wildest gyrations. At last the game came to an end, and by that time his genitals had been pierced by twelve needles, each supporting its own distinctive animal tail. Eight of the things hung from his penis, and another four from his testicles. The girls lined up in front of their victim and again bowed, to the approving smiles and applause of their parents and relatives.

There was a break in the festivities then, allowing the man's wife time to coat his cock and balls with a sealing gel. She then removed the needles one by one, checking to be sure the gel was closing the holes. It would ruin the party if her husband's engorged penis lost its load of pressurized blood, and she used her skills and training to prevent that from happening.

At last, he hung there quietly, his genitals once again ready for his daughter and her friends. That was the signal for the second game to begin, and the girls eagerly gathered around the table to claim the toys they'd need.

Each child picked up a stick that was about 3' long and 1/2" in diameter. The things had been gaily painted, and several bright streamers had been attached to each. They then gathered around the man, who was once again whimpering and crying in anticipation of what was to come.

Carol's mother then announced, "Let the pinata begin!" Before the words had faded, the sticks began to strike the poor man's cock and balls, each blow seemingly stronger than the one before. Again and again the strokes found their targets, and what had been individual cries of pain became one long ululation of terror and agony. The girls laughed louder and louder as they competed with each other to find an unexplored place on the man's crotch that hadn't yet been visited, and by the time his wife blew a whistle to announce the end of the game, his cock and balls had swollen beyond belief. He was almost unconscious with the pain, and his body sagged from the ropes, his ragged throat now able to utter nothing above a guttural groan.

The woman held a small bottle under her husband's nose, and he began to regain his awareness of the situation. That signaled it was time for the final game to begin, and soon Carol would have the special trophy that would mark her entry into womanhood.

The spreader bar was removed from his ankles, and he was lowered to the ground. I was ordered to support him, along with another of the watching men. We held him as his wrists were untied, trying to not look at his mutilated genitals, which were quickly healing, thanks to the gel. At last he was able to stand on his own, and we moved away. It was important that he be seen to willingly cooperate in this last part of the party, and no sort of persuasion or coercion was allowed. Of course, he knew, as did all the males there, that his failure to cooperate would lead to his being tortured to near death with The Machine, then banished from the family, and having to exist in disgrace on the streets.

The guests moved back then, clearing a path to the picnic table. Carol took her father's penis in one hand, and gently guided him to the table, which had a hard pillow in the center. Once there, she released him and patted the tabletop with one hand, indicating what she expected of him.

His eyes darted frantically around, but found no support from any of us. Every man there knew that their own time would come, and we could not force ourselves to make eye contact with him. Most of us stood downcast, wishing we could flee, but knowing such a thing was impossible.

Finally his shoulders slumped, and he slowly climbed atop the table. Without being told, he lay on his back, his butt on the pillow, and spreading his arms and legs to the corners. Four of the little girls had been ready for that, and they very quickly and expertly used short lengths of rope to bind him in place.

His penis was still monstrously erect, due to the double dose of drugs his daughter had injected in it. The pillow under his midsection caused his crotch to be raised more than one foot above the tabletop, and the appearance was as if he were offering it as a free-will sacrifice, which was definitely its fate.

Carol's mother then very ceremoniously opened an ornate leather case and took something out of it. As soon as the women and girls saw the thing, they began to applaud and cheer, knowing the most-arousing part of the birthday party was near. The men groaned quietly, and some of us actually whimpered, because we also knew what was in store for the victim. My wife, my daughter, and I were given the place of honor, close to the center of the table, since Maddie's birthday party was the next on the calendar. That way she could see exactly what to do, and I could see what would be done, to me. I would much rather have been at the back of the crowd, or even somewhere else altogether.

The birthday girl was handed the instrument, and as she held it proudly aloft the applause and cheering seemed to grow stronger. I seemed to be unable to control my head, and it raised all on its own, until my eyes were staring at what she held.

It looked like nothing more than an oversize ballpoint pen, but everyone there knew it was so much more than that. It was deadly in its simplicity. In other hands, it could do so much good, but when the little girl wielded it, it would bring her father pain beyond anyone's ability to imagine.

She held it above his head, giving him several seconds to stare at it in terror. He began to moan, and then to gasp in fear. When she was satisfied with his reaction, Carol turned a tiny dial on the top of the thing, asking, "Is number five about right, Mommy?"

Her mother answered, "Better use number four, sweetie. You don't want to go to deep, or his thingie will shrink when the blood runs out." I knew she was referring to the depth of cut the Vibra-Knife would make, and that the number four setting would allow the laser to penetrate the skin, but not the flesh underneath. There would be a limited amount of bleeding that way, which would be instantly cauterized by the hot beam.

After making the adjustment, she lowered the Vibra-Knife to her father's crotch and held it there, enjoying the moment. The man had raised his head as far as possible to allow his fear-filled eyes to watch what was about to be done to his genitals, and all the while moans of terror still escaped his throat.

Finally Carol lowered the point of the tool to the base of his cock. She very gently began to inscribe a circle down and around his penis and his testicles, and I could immediately smell the odor of cooked flesh as the laser did its work. His screams began then, and seemed to increase in intensity as his daughter slowly moved the knife around his engorged penis and swollen, tightly-enclosed testicles.

As soon as she completed the circuit, her mother moved to help with the next step. She used a very thin, flat-bladed instrument that looked for all the world like an innocent screwdriver. Carefully inserting it in the incision under his scrotum, she began to slowly work loose a tiny flap of skin. Before the blood could begin to seep, the girl again began to use the Vibra-Knife to cauterize the violated flesh.

The two worked like a carefully-trained team, the mother lifting a small flap of skin off her husband's sac, and the daughter cutting the connecting tissue and sealing the wound. Time seemed to stand still as they worked, and all the guests stood in silence as they watched in fascination. The sounds of the victim's agonized screams were the only thing heard as several of the women and girls rubbed their crotches excitedly, while every man there was cradling his genitals protectively.

At last the skin covering the scrotum had been entirely freed, and it looked like nothing more than an obscene scrap of cloth that was being held by the man's wife. Without pause, the duo continued to lift and cut free the skin, continuing their way up his penis, slowly working from the base of the shaft towards the head.

In my own fear, I hadn't even realized that the man's screams had become more ragged as his throat became unable to give voice to his agony. I know that he passed out several times during the ceremony, and each time his wife and daughter paused while one of the guests revived him by holding a small bottle under his nose. As soon as he once again began screaming, they continued their work.

In what seemed like no time at all, or an eternity without end, depending upon your viewpoint, they had reached that part of his shaft that joins the head. They very carefully completed their peeling and cutting until the last shred of skin on the shaft had been freed, and then Carol inscribed a circle to free her trophy from its former home.

I knew the trophy would be tanned during the next few days, and then stretched over a gold-plated cast that had been made of the man's genitals. The obscene thing would then be proudly displayed in the front room of the house, and would be a conversation piece when guests visited.

Every eye at the party moved rapidly back and forth from Carol's hands, as they turned her prize inside out, restoring it to its former shape, to her father's ragingly-erect penis and testicles. His cock was flaming red, which seemed to echo the agony the man was feeling as the warm afternoon air touched that flesh for the first time ever. His balls had fallen free, and were lying nakedly and obscenely swollen on the pillow beneath him, writhing as if small animals were trapped within them.

With one last look at his ruined manhood, the man again passed out. He was revived one more time, so that he could "enjoy" one more torture, and judging by what I'd seen at past birthday parties, it would be the worst yet for him.

Carol's mother handed her a small ceramic pot with a brush sticking out the top. Everyone there knew its purpose, and needed no explanation of what was to come. As expected, the girl began to apply the contents of the pot to her father's ruined cock and balls. The sounds that issued from his ruined throat were even more horrible that what we'd already heard, and were testimony to the new level of agony he was enduring.

After several seconds, he again passed out, but this time he was not revived, being allowed the peace of unconsciousness. Carol had her coming-out trophy now, and she would consent to giving her father a short time to rest before subjecting him to the next ordeal.

What that ordeal was to be was made clear when Carol's mother announced, "Carol is a woman now. She has begun her menses, and has claimed the trophy so generously provided by her father." There was a vigorous round of applause then, accompanied by cheers and cries of congratulations. The woman then continued, "We have decided he will not be allowed to have genitals from now on. They never were much good anyway, so it's no great loss. He will be assigned the duty of being our new toilet slave. I'm sure many of you know the previous man did not survive the use that was made of him at my last party." Here she paused while the guests joined her in laughter.

She continued, "Even though his cock and balls are of no further use to him, I will allow him to make one last use of them, to serve the greater good, if you will."

As the guests waited in anticipation, she continued, "In about two hours, it will be time for dinner. We're going to let him provide the hors d'oeuvre before the meal, which as you've probably already guessed, will be baked cock and balls. Of course, the baking will be done with them still attached, in order that he can enjoy it as much as we do. The special sauce Carol put on him should make his things very tasty."

"We have some other games planned for the girls in the meantime, and as they do that, we older folks can have our gossip. Thank you all for coming." Carol again held her trophy high, to the accompaniment of cheers and applause.

That's the end of my story. Surely any man reading this will be filled with terror at the thought of such a future, and will do anything in his power to prevent it coming to pass. I beg of you, please help us.