Jefferson, Part 5

“What the fuck is this shit?” Vern replied, after glancing through the papers Pete gave him.

“Something I found on the internet. Read it, it’s kind of neat.” Vern wasn’t the laziest man on the face of the Earth, but he was definitely in the top ten. He always drank draft beer because he was too lazy to open cans or bottles and the bar bitch refused to do it for him. He was too lazy to learn enough about computers to use the Internet himself, but he had a taste for dirty jokes, nudity, and smut so Pete would occasionally print out unusual stuff for him.

“What the fuck is this? Some bunch of fucking perverts talking about people getting their nuts cut off? Boy, Pete, I don’t know where you come up with this weird shit.” Vern stated, sanctimoniously continuing to read the story, not wanting to miss a single word.

“It’s from a site called The Eunuch Archive, and I though you might get a kick out of it.” Pete explained.

“Well, I think it’s horseshit,” Vern opined. “After all, who the hell would believe that a guy could get hard, much less shoot his wad while he was getting nutted? The people that write this shit must all be a bunch of perverts.”

“Maybe, maybe not. You have to admit one thing though, this Nathan guy is one hell of a good writer.”

The two buddies had a few more beers, Vern pausing now and then to reread part of the story. “I’ve got to take a piss,” He said, rising from his stool.

“Shake it more than three times and you’re playing with it.” Pete reminded him.

“Fuck you, Pete.”

A week later Pete printed out another story from The Archive for Vern.

“I don’t know where the hell these guys come from, Pete,” Vern said. “But I’ll bet you that no way in hell would these kids get their rocks off while being castrated It just wouldn’t happen unless they were jacking off or some gal was blowing them. No guy is that fucking horny, not even a teenager.”

Six beers and three rereads later Pete took him up on the bet. “Okay, a hundred bucks. Put your money where your mouth is, smart guy.”

“What the fuck you mean? I wouldn’t even touch another guys balls, much less castrate him, and you know damn good and well that you wouldn’t either.” Vern declared, slurring slightly from all the beer.

“We don’t have to cut him, or even touch him for that matter. We just pick up some kid hitchhiking, strip him and tie him up somewhere, and threaten to nut him. If he gets it up when he sees that he’s going to get nutted, then I win. Simple as that.”

“I don’t want nothing to do with no kid,” Vern stated. “Get caught messing with a boy and you’ll go up the river for so long a Harley-Davidson could make u-turns in your asshole.”

“Okay,” Pete said. “We’ll go out by the college. Those kids are all over eighteen, and besides, they ain’t going to tell anyone about it anyway, now are they?”

“I sure as hell wouldn’t if it were me,” Vern agreed. “I would scream like a mashed cat and piss all over myself, but I sure as hell wouldn’t go telling anyone about it afterwards. Hey, Tulip! Get your ass over here with a couple of beers before I kick your fat ass!”

It was a Friday night, and knowing that a lot of the college kids hitchhiked home on weekends Pete and Vern went out to the first rest stop on the interstate and generously offered a ride to a student.

“Where y’all headed?” Vern asked the slender youth dressed in a Jefferson State sweatshirt.

“Medford.” The kid answered.

“Great,” Vern said. “We’re going all the way to Ashland, we’ll just drop you on the way by. Hey, want a beer? We’ve got some cold Coors.”

“No, thanks. I’m only eighteen and my uncle will have a shit-fit if I show up with beer on my breath. You guys haven’t been drinking, have you?” He said, worriedly.

“Yeah, but just a couple. You want to drive?”

The kid agreed, and Vern pulled off the Interstate at the next exit to switch drivers. Vern climbed in the back seat and threw rope around the kid’s neck, while Pete pulled a long, menacing knife out of his coat and held it against his neck.

“You’ll be getting home a little late tonight, kid,” Pete said. Just drive up this road a ways, and do what we say and we’ll let you live.”

“What do you want?” The kid implored. “I don’t have any money, and my uncle isn’t rich!”

“Just shut up and drive, kid, you’ll find out soon enough. Here. Pull into this yard.” Vern directed the scared youth down a long drive and into the open doors of a large equipment shed.

“Now, you just take all your clothes off,” Pete commanded. “Go ahead, get nekkid or we’ll cut them off and you won’t have anything to wear when we’re done.”

“What are you going to do?” The kid asked, nervously removing his shirt.

“Why, we’re going to nut you!” Vern answered with a smirk. “Yep, that’s right. We’re gonna cut ‘em clean off. Might even fuck your tight little ass too. We do this for kicks now and then.”

Vern tightened the rope around the kid’s neck a little, and Pete helped the terrified youth remove his pants and underwear before tying him to the front of a harvester, feet and arms spread wide.

“Shit!” Vern said, eying the naked youth. “He sure ain’t got much, does he. The last one had him beat by a good two inches, even soft. This here little turd ain’t even big enough to hardly measure.”

“It’s not his cock we’re interested in,” Pete said, as he opened his pocketknife and began honing the blade on a small whetstone. “His balls look big enough to me, and that’s what we’re after. Are you going to shave him or sit on your ass all night while I do all of the work again?”

“He ain’t got enough hair down there to matter none,” Vern said. Just cut him and get it over with. Well now. I’ll be damned! This here little dildo is getting a boner! That there Nathan feller knew what he was talking about after all.”

Vern was right. The scared youth’s penis was now at full attention, as if anticipating the loss of it’s closest neighbors.

Pete had already won Vern’s hundred dollars, so what he did next was merely to satisfy his curiosity. He had intended to use his knife to cut the boy’s restraining ropes, but instead he placed the tip of it against the youth’s scrotum. The boy, who was too embarrassed to masturbate in the dorm room or showers that he shared, was packing a full week’s load and he erupted in a large spurt, part of which landed on Pete’s arm and neck. Pete recoiled as if he had been shot. He had never seen another guy come much less have someone else’s jizz touch his body.

“DROP THE KNIFE!! DO IT NOW!!” The two men spun around to find themselves staring down the gun barrel of a Jefferson State Patrolman.

The policeman handcuffed them, and then cut the bonds of the extremely embarrassed, but relived youth.

“What’s your name, son?” He asked the boy after hearing his side of the story.

“Colt Romez, sir. I’m a freshman at Jefferson State.”

“Don’t you know enough not to hitchhike?”

“Yes sir, but this is harvest time and I have to get home every weekend to help my uncle.” The boy explained.

“Okay, you heard what they said, and how it was all just a joke, but tying you up and threatening you like that is a Class Four Sex Offense. Do you wish to press charges?”

“Yes sir, I want to file charges,” the boy replied.

The patrolman, suddenly somber, asked the youth, “Do you know what will happen to these men if found guilty.”

“I know exactly what will happen to them. File the charges.”