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Andrew was an athlete. Pure athlete. His body was built to run, to lift, to fight to endure. He was over six foot tall and lithe and lean like a professional track star. He was now running as hard and fast as he could. He was fighting for something much more valuable than the First Place medal now. His body dripped with sweat, beads of the pure masculinity running down his nude body, falling off of him like raindrops as he entered the narrow hallway he now found himself in. He dived into one of the abandoned rooms. A good sign: no other boys in the room. He sat on the ground, in a corner as to be not visible from the door frame that lacked a hinged door. He caught his breath, professionally, utilizing the maximum efficiency of his respiratory system as he was taught to do so long ago. His fully muscular abdomen rose and fell as his heart calmed. His dark brown hair began to dry as the sweat stopped pouring from his body. His icy blue eyes focused on the door frame, ever vigilant.
Then, he heard it. Footsteps. His chest rose and fell much more rapidly. He tried to stand and moved towards the back of the room, hiding behind one of the overturned filing cabinets. He lied down on the dirty floor, feeling the debris on the ground against his bare, nude skin. The footsteps came closer. He peeked over the filing cabinet now. He saw them. The pale, heartless bitches that hunted him. It was a game to them. A horrid game of cat and mouse. He rose from the ground, darting for the door, but the three women overpowered the athlete and knocked him to the ground. Andrew tried to get up, but the taller woman of the group placed the bottom of her staff in the center of his chest, keeping him down. Andrew begged. He begged hard and long, tears flowing from his eyes. Whyd he won? Why was his number drawn? The girls grinned that sickening grin and slid the evil device over the head of his throbbing cock. The powdered gas released daily into the holding area kept all the boys dicks solid. The device began to do its work, painfully extracting every bit of cum from Andrews balls. It wasnt even pleasurable just an intense sucking, like his member was a simple straw to the precious liquid his testicles held. The cum began to seep from his balls into the machine, filling it about half-way. The girls laughed as he cried in pain as his dry balls could give no more. No more! The tallest women kept her staff placed carefully but bent down and tore the device, still sucking, from his dick. Andrew kicked and struggled then, but the other girls hit the inside of his thighs with their staves. The two stronger women lifted him from the floor and held him tightly and the tallest woman tossed her staff aside and unsheathed her knife. NO! NO!! Andrew pleaded, kicking at her. The women bashed his kneecaps with their staves, keeping him from moving too much. His arms tore away from their bodies, trying to get free, but the large, chemically strengthened women kept him in their death-like grips. The knife came closer to Andrews throbbing cock as he pleaded and thrusted his hips to get free. He knew it was no use. The woman reached between his legs and tugged on his now empty balls, tugging them downward in their sac and squeezing them to make them bulge against the scrotal skin, keeping them nice and tight and bound within the thin sac. Her blade moved downward, stabbing through Andrews scrotum entirely, a few inches above his hanging balls. He screamed and struggled and threw his head back and forward, trying to rock his way out of their grasp. The emasculating woman tugged downward on her sharpened knife, making a slice through his scrotum in the area between Andrews balls. He cried out once more, realizing his impending castration and begged her. He begged for his life as a man, for his dear, dear balls. For all of his nineteen years, they had been close to him in such a personal way. Theyd supplied the hormones and sperm necessary to pleasure his many girlfriends. The emasculator, unmoving and uncaring, then tugged down on the doomed nuts once more, making them squeeze out of the slice shed made in his filleted sac. She then placed her blade against the spermatic cord of his right testicle, and as the steel touched the cord, Andrew moaned and his cock rose and fell in a dry orgasm. Finally, his castrator spoke. Eager, eh? Very well. He screamed, mid-orgasm, shaking his head violently, once again struggling for his balls. The women took a firm, painful grasp of his arms and upper torso, restraining him. The emasculator pulled tight with her dominant hand, bringing the sharpened blade through the right spermatic cord, then quickly after, the left, severing Andrews testicles with a single pull. His back arced in pain and shock and, like all the boys do, he stayed that way in the strong girls grip for a long while. The emasculator pocketed Andrews severed balls and the restraining women threw him to the ground to let him drown in his sorrow. Todays bounty had been collected and one less boy held his nuts. The girls had come. They had found him. They would always find their boy. No boy could escape the blade of the Bounty Hunters. Nothing ever changes in the Pens.
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