There were 6 of us in reception, 4 guys and 2 women. All 4 of the guys were gay and both of us women were lesbians. We all had a sadistic streak in us and we always had a little fun with the shackled prisoners. We’d get them naked and then punch their nuts, slap their dicks and pinch their nipples until their eyes watered. I loved punching their balls the best. It made me feel good to do it. The look in their eyes after the first punch was priceless. Sometimes, the guys would hold them down on the table for me and I could punch their eggs as hard as I wanted and they couldn’t get away. What a rush to hear their screams as my hard, little fists hammered away at their precious testicles.

The job was posted on our internal, very secure website…..The prison’s official castrator had recently retired and they finally put up a job posting. It was the only reason I was still working at this place. I wanted that job. All of the prisoners were castrated within 2 weeks of entering the prison. They were never getting out and it made them so much easier to handle. Plus, it removed all of their sex drive and they also lost most of their muscle mass. I had all the credentials. I had grown up on a farm and had castrated hundreds of cows and horses. I had 2 years of veterinarian school before I’d run out of money to continue. I posted my resume and waited to hear from them. It didn’t take long. Two days later I was sitting in front of the warden as he explained that they had never had a female castratrix before but they wanted me to give it a try. If, after a month, they were happy with me, the job was permanently mine. I was so excited that my female juices were running down my thighs. I hoped he wouldn’t notice. I would be starting tomorrow morning and there was quite a backlog of prisoners needing my services. I told him I was ready to go.

The warden had me escorted to the infirmary to look over the facilities for castration. They had a lot of high-tech equipment that I had no intention of using. What they did have was a prison gyno operating table that the prisoner could be totally secured in with his legs spread and his crotch elevated. It was perfect. I had an assistant, Nancy, but, after the first 5 minutes, I knew she had the same view of male prisoners that I did. She was a fairly big girl, about 5’9” and maybe a bit over 200 pounds with monster breasts, DD’s at least. We were going to get along just fine. I told her that all this high-tech equipment wasn’t necessary and we would be saving the government a lot of money. I would stop at the farm store and get all the implements we needed that evening.

As soon as I left work, I headed for the local farm store. I picked up an elastrator that was used on bulls and a couple of packages of bands. They also had some sterile sutures for tying off the cords and a nice selection of electric,cauterizing scalpels. I put the entire purchase on the prison credit card they had issued me today and headed home. I wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the next day’s busy schedule.

I got there an hour early and, not surprisingly, my assistant, Nancy, was already there. She wanted to see what I’d bought. When I showed her, she said this was going to be the best place in the prison to work. She was right. It was going to be fun, at least for us.

The guards brought in the first prisoner and strapped him, struggling, into the gyno operating table, then they left to get another. I told them I would need at least an hour with each one and they said they would be back in an hour with another. They had over 20 prisoners that needed to be gelded and more coming every day.

As soon as they left, I stuck a hypo in his voice box to paralyze it for about an hour or so. The room wasn’t very well soundproofed and he would be trying to scream in just a few minutes. I also gave him a light tranquilizer to keep him from jumping around too much, not that it would matter. Either way he was going to lose his nuts.

He had a fairly small, uncut penis but a wonderful pair of testicles. They were as large as hen’s eggs and low-hanging. Nancy started fondling his cock as I squeezed his balls. He immediately got erect and was squirming against her gloved hand. I slipped a band onto the elastrator and opened the jaws. He still didn’t know what was happening as I pulled his nuts through the opening. When the band popped off the prongs and his ballsac squeezed into an opening of less than a half-inch, he tried to scream. Nothing came out. Nancy and I both smiled at each other. He belonged to us for the next 45 minutes, then we’d cut them off. They were already swelling and turning purple.

For the next 45 minutes we had a ball, literally. We punched them, stuck all sorts of needles in them, kicked them, squeezed them with big forceps, beat them with dermal hammers and reflex hammers. Tears were running down his cheeks. He kept mouthing “Why?” We told him because we loved doing it. We loved torturing his balls and we were really going to love taking them from him. He was in 24 hour lockdown for the rest of his life. Who was he going to tell, the guards. They wouldn’t even listen to him and his family had already disowned him. We could do this with impunity. Nobody would care if they did find out. They’d just figure he got what he had coming to him.

The 45 minutes went by way too quickly. His balls were a swollen,mangled mess, all bloody and black, blue and purple. Nancy wiped them off with some Betadine swabs to keep it a little sterile. I put on clean gloves, grabbed one of the cauterizing scalpels and made a neat incision, right down the center of his ballsac, about 3 inches long. Nancy held the incision open with a pair of forceps and I used a hook to dig out his testicles. First the left one, then the right, popped out of his bag and hung in the air by its cords. They were grayish in color, with a white, caterpillar-looking thing on the top. I took one in my gloved hand and, squeezing it hard, started pulling it out of his body. When it would go no further and his eyes were literally bugging out of his head, I clamped the cord and tied it off as far up in his body as possible. I reached for the surgical scissors and, with one snip, it fell into the pan. I motioned for Nancy to do the same with the other testicle. She smiled and said thanks as she squeezed and pulled it until it would come out no farther. I tied it off for her and handed her the scissors. Once again, a quick snip and we now had 2 testicles in our pan. By the end of the day, we would have close to 20 of them. I asked Nancy if she’d like to come to my place that evening and we would clean them up, a little flower, salt and pepper to taste and have them for dinner. She said she’d follow me home. We both smiled.

Our prisoner had passed out when Nancy took his 2nd testicle. I quickly stitched his bag up, gave him a shot that would keep him asleep for at least 8 hours and we transferred him to the gurney, cleaned up and waited for our next victim. We needed to get a mirror so they could see their precious balls being taken from them by a pair of defenseless ladies.

I still can’t believe they’re paying me to do this.