I didn’t think I wanted to be a girl, but they’re giving me estrogen, and I’m growing tits. I like them. I almost wish they’d make me a pussy, but they won’t. At least, I no longer have a dick or balls. I love being smooth down there. I love how I look in the mirror. When I woke after my operation and saw I no longer had cock or balls, I felt complete for the first time in my life. I had lost my male genitals, but losing them made me complete.

Today, I would get my first client. I was scared, but I didn’t think I’ll hate him as Kim hates his. He doesn’t like any man that has balls. I just never wanted mine. They were fine on other boys and men, as far as I was concerned. Unlike Kim, I liked being around naked boys in Gym class. When I did jack off, I did, thinking about one of them fucking me. Before he was castrated, I had a crush on Shaun. I would have sucked his dick and let him fuck me. He fucked Kim before deciding to be castrated. I wish he’d fucked me.

Now, that I was taking estrogen, I was horny, but it a different horny than I was, when I had balls. Being horny then, made me jack off. Now, all I thought about was getting fucked.

I hope my client was nice and wasn’t too old.

I opened the door and walked in.

He was probably thirty, had a little paunch, but it wasn’t anything a little less food and a few workouts wouldn’t cure. He was actually nice looking. Naked, he sat on the edge of the bed. I was naked, of course. I’d forgotten what it was like to wear clothes. Now, that I no longer had a dick or balls, I liked being naked.

“God damn,” he said. “You are a beauty.”

I felt my face burn; I guess I blushed. I bowed slightly, pleased by his compliment.

“Thank you, Master,” I said, giving the response I’d been told to give. Always call your clients, “Master.”

“How may I serve you?”

“Are you really a virgin?” he asked.

“Yes, Master, you will be my first. Please forgive my inexperience.”

I had watched enough videos to know what to do, but that wasn’t the same as doing it.

“God, you look like a girl, but you’re really a boy?”

“I was a boy,” I said, “I’m a eunuch, now.”

Kneeling in front of me, he examined my crotch.

“I see the scar. You have a beautiful bush. The hair is so silky. It’s not course at all.”

“Thank you, Master. I’m glad it pleases you.”

He sat back on the bed, patting the spot beside him.

“Come, sit beside me.” I did. “What’s your name?”

“Tommy, my lord.”

No one had told me to call him that, but for now, for the next hour, at least, he was my lord, my master. I was here to serve and please him; this is what I was meant to do. This, I knew, was what I was meant to be: a eunuch, a plaything for men, for men with cocks and balls.

“You have a magnificent cock, my lord.”

That pleased him. He smiled.

“Would you like for me to kiss it.”

“I want to kiss you,” he said. “Is that permitted?”

I guess some whores don’t like to be kissed, but I wasn’t a whore, I was a slave – his slave for the next hour. He could do with me as he pleased. I told him that:

“I’m your slave, Master. Do with me as you will. I’m honored that you wish to kiss me.”

I said what I thought a eunuch of old, a eunuch slave of the ancient past, would say to his master. I had read everything I could find, so I would know how to act and what to say. I said it using the formal speech I thought they would use. To my mind, I was one of them. Kim hated being used, but I was here to serve. I was what I was meant to be, not just a eunuch – I was meant to be that – but a eunuch pleasure slave.

Kim wanted to leave; James and Shaun wanted to leave; but I never wanted to leave this place. Somewhere else, people would think me a freak. Here, men paid $1000 an hour for my services. That I never got any of it didn’t matter. I was here to serve; a slave wasn’t paid for his service.

I don’t know why I liked so being a slave, but I did. Like some boys – men even – were born to be eunuchs, some of us were born to be both, eunuchs and slaves. I didn’t resent men with their cocks and balls; I didn’t want them on myself; but I loved them on men, and on boys, too, I guess, but I especially loved them on men, on this man, anyway. He was the first man, whose cock I had ever seen, and his cock was hard for me. It wanted me, almost as much as I wanted it.

It frightened me some; it must have been seven inches, and other than mine, other than the tiny cock I had, before it was cut off, it was the first cock I’d ever seen hard. I knew the first time would hurt; but there was some lube in the drawer in the end table beside the bed – they had told me there was – and if I asked, he would probably let me use it.

He kissed me. It wasn’t my first kiss; I had practiced kissing with my friends. I loved kissing them; I had kissed Shaun when he was ill, but those had been loving kisses, mostly planted on his cheeks and the corner of his mouth. Only when he was better, did we kiss full on, tongue and all.

My friends, all of them, liked kissing me, but with my tits and my smooth crotch, I was no threat to them. Kim’s kisses are the most passionate, but he made love to Shaun, before Shaun was cut, and he knew how to kiss. James, like me, was just learning. He had never kissed before. He and Kevin Shultz had jacked each other off, but they had never tried anything else.

My master stuck his tongue in my mouth. Tentatively, I stuck mine in his. I didn’t want him to think me too presumptuous, but it seemed the natural thing to do. He didn’t seem to mind.

His hand dropped to my crotch; he rubbed it. I gasped when he stoked my pee hole. I didn’t realize it was so sensitive. I wrapped my hand around his cock: it was magnificent. It was his turn to gasp.

He laid me back on the bed.

“God damn, you’re beautiful. You’re the sexiest creature I’ve ever seen. God, I want you.”

His mouth dropped to one of my tits. I felt his hot mouth on it. I thought I was going to cum, then and there. The estrogen had made my tits sensitive: them and my pee hole seemed more sensitive than the head of my cock had ever been. His hand was still rubbing my crotch.

“Master! You keep doing that, and I’ll cum.”

I didn’t know whether eunuch slaves were supposed to cum; I was afraid it would anger him, if I did, but if he kept it up, kept rubbing my crotch, kept his hot mouth on my nipple, I knew I would.

I hoped he would let me; for the first time in my life, I wanted to cum, knowing it would be different – knowing somehow it would be different – a real orgasm, not just a twinge in my dick and groin, over too soon – accompanied by guilt – as I shot my seed. I no longer had seed to shoot, but this orgasm, if he allowed me it, would me more that all the others combined. I knew it would be.

He didn’t stop; he wanted me to cum; and knowing that he did, I came.

I heard someone screaming. It was me, I think; but I was no longer thinking. I was the orgasm. I wasn’t having an orgasm, I was the orgasm. Don’t expect me to describe it for you. I can’t describe the indescribable. I don’t have the words for it.

He was shaking me.

“Are you all right, Kid?”

I had either passed out, or I had been transported somewhere else by the orgasm. I nodded.

“That was some orgasm.

“I’m sorry,” I said, panting.

“Don’t be sorry, Kid. I loved it. Shit! What an orgasm? I used to be envious of the orgasms some women I fucked had, but none of them ever had one like that.”

“But, I’m here to please you. I live to please you.”

I was slowly coming back from where I’d been.

“Kid, you pleased me; but now, I need to please myself.”

Crawling between my legs, he stuck his finger in my hole. I was unable to restrain a gasp.

“Fuck! You’re tight.”

I gestured toward the end table with a nod of my head.

“There’s some lube in the drawer.”

Kim had told me they kept lube there.

He got the lube, squeezed some out into the palm of his hand, set the tube down and spread some on the middle finger of his other hand. He lubed his cock with the rest. It glistened.

Sticking his lubed finger in my hole, he said:

“You’re still tight. This might hurt. Are you all right with that?”

“Master, I want your cock inside me. I don’t care how much it hurts. I want it to hurt.”

“You want me to hurt you?”

“Yes, I’m your slave. My life is yours. Do with it as you wish. Place your hands around my throat; choke the life out of me, when you cum. Do what you wish with me.”

I don’t know where that came from, but I meant it. I was his, to fuck or to kill, preferably to fuck and to kill, if that’s what he wanted. I was his slave; for that hour, I was his slave. He could do with me as he willed.

“I don’t want to kill you, Tommy, but I do want to fuck you. Be careful what you tell guys; you might find one to take you up on that offer. Somehow, it’s tempting, even though I would never do it.”

My hole well lubed, he slid up, pausing to kiss one of my tits. His chest was hairy. I loved how it tickled me. I glanced down: my tits lay flat, little more than the nipples sticking out. They weren’t big, anyway.

He scooted up farther. The hair on his chest tickled my nose. Kim hated for men to have hairy chests, but I loved it. I wanted my men to be men.

I felt the head of his cock press against my hole. I raised my legs. He reached down to guide it in. He pressed harder. I tried to hold in the scream when he pushed it past my sphincter, but I couldn’t. My scream didn’t stop him. He was inside me; all seven inches of him were inside me.

I had never felt anything like it. His cock filled me. The pain only added to the pleasure. Is there that much difference between pain and pleasure, anyway? Can’t pain also be pleasure, or be, at least, an adjunct to pleasure?

He fucked me: I came again, screaming as I did before. He shot his load into my ass and lay on top of me resting. He was heavy; but he supported some of his weight. I didn’t care. He could have smothered me, and I wouldn’t have cared.

I had thought about killing myself before, if I couldn’t get rid of my cock and balls, but this was different. What better death was there than one accompanied by such an orgasm or a death given you by your master? A slave could ask for no more. No one lives forever, anyway.

The hour was over too soon. He was spent; I was spent; but neither of us wanted it to end.

“I’ll be back,” he told me.

“I love you, Master,” I said; and for then, I did love him. I would love a different master tomorrow, but for then, for that hour, I had loved him.

“Was it terrible?” Kim asked me, when I returned.

“No, it was fantastic.”

“You are fucking weird, Tommy,” he said.

I just smiled.

James

“Did you really like getting fucked?” I asked Tommy.

“I loved it. I even came – twice, and it was much better than jacking off. I think the estrogen helped. Maybe, you should ask them for some. Don’t listen to Kim. You know how he hates guys with balls.”

My turn was coming soon, and after listening to Kim tell how he hated it, I was scared I’d hate it, too.

It was true I didn’t hate guys with balls like Kim did. I just didn’t want mine. Now, I didn’t have either cock or balls, but losing my cock wasn’t bad as I feared it would be. Now, I didn’t have balls, I didn’t miss jacking off. It would be nice to stand up to pee like Kim does, but sitting down to do it is no big deal. I’m glad I’m a eunuch, even a eunuch without a cock, but I wish they’d let me go home.

They treat us OK, I guess. I’ve got smacked around a couple of times when I smarted off, but no worse than my dad did, when I smarted off to him. Now that I don’t have balls, I don’t feel like smarting off so much, anyway. I guess losing his balls does calm a guy down.

I don’t have to do no chores; at least, I don’t except for letting some guy fuck me. I don’t know yet how big a chore that will be.

I jacked my friend Kevin off sometimes, when he stayed over; and he jacked me off; but we never did nothing else. I kind of wanted to suck his cock, but I was afraid he’d tell someone I did, and everyone would think I was queer. I probably shouldn’t have worried; he knew I wanted to be castrated, and he never told anyone about that.

I wonder if he thinks about me, wondering where I am. Kim said the cops think I ran off with him and Shaun. Kevin should know I wouldn’t without telling him. When they let us go – if they let us go – I wonder what Kevin and the guys will school will think about me having no cock and no balls. If they let me go, I hope they let the others go. I’d hate to be the only guy at school without cock or balls. Shaun would tell them how cool it was to have neither, even though he didn’t want his cock cut off. I’m glad he’s going to be OK. I thought for a while, he was gonna die. Hell, if he went back to school, he’d probably talk some of the other guys into getting castrated, their balls cut off, at least. I could probably talk Kevin into it. Having no balls is cool, and being smooth down there is kinda cool, too.

I wonder if I should ask them for estrogen. Tommy’s tits are kinda cool. It’s not like they’re humungous or anything like that. I wouldn’t want big tits. It’s not like he needs a bra. He is cool looking; he’d make a good looking girl. They let him keep his pubic hair. They waxed mine and pulled them out. Hell! That hurt. At least, they didn’t grow back thick, and when they pluck them, it doesn’t hurt all that much.

My scar shows; Tommy’s doesn’t; mine will probably fade with time, though.

I wonder what it will be like to get fucked. God damn! Tommy likes it; that’s all he can talk about; as long as Kim isn’t around, anyway. He knows how much Kim hates it, and he doesn’t say anything when Kim’s around.

Valentin, one of the Russian kids, still has a dick, but it’s small like Kim’s. Most of the kids here are Russian; some of them don’t speak much English. Valentin speaks a little. He’s teaching me Russian and I’m teaching him English. Besides the guys I came here with, he’s my best friend.

“I talked to Valentin about getting fucked. He neither hated it as much as Kim did or liked it as much as Tommy did.

“Depends on who you fuck,” he said. “Some guys are OK; some are assholes. Some treat you nice; some just want to fuck and don’t give a shit about you.”

Maybe, Tommy will change his mind after he fucks a few. Maybe he just lucked out and got a nice one that first time.

I wonder if I’ll be next, or Tommy will have another one first.

I went to find Valentin to ask him if he thought I should ask for estrogen. He has a little bit of tit, but I don’t know whether that’s because he takes estrogen or because he’s been castrated so long. He’s a year or two older than me, I think, and he was castrated at eight. He’s been here a long time; he’s probably one of the oldest guys here.

I found him in the dayroom.

“I don’t take estrogen,” he told me. “They don’t like to give it to you, if you have cock. It would be OK for you to take it; you don’t have cock. It kinda makes you feel like girl, though. It does things to your head, like they say balls do to a boy’s head. I wouldn’t know; you probably know better than I do: they castrated you after you grow hair down there. Do you feel different without balls?”

“Yeah, I feel a lot different, better in a lot of ways. Tommy really likes estrogen. I might give it a try. He gets off on fucking. Do you?”

“No. Some guys do, but I never do. I think estrogen helps you get off.”

“Maybe I’ll try it then. If I’m gonna get fucked, I might as well enjoy it.”

Valentin taught me how to ask for it in Russian. I so impressed one of the goons – with that and the other Russian I’d learned – that he said I could start on it.

A couple of weeks have passed. Tommy’s been fucked several more times; he’s popular; and Kim’s been fucked. Shaun’s up and around and hangs out at the dayroom. It will be a while before he’s ready to do any fucking. I have my first client tomorrow.

I started estrogen a couple of weeks ago. My tits are sore and might pooch out a little more than they did – my nipples are definitely bigger – but my tits aren’t as big as Tommy’s. They aren’t even as big as Valentin’s.

I think I like estrogen. I don’t know that I feel like a girl – never knew how a girl felt – but I think it does affect the way I feel.

Shaun

Shit! I was really out of it. I almost fucking died. I guess I got some kind of infection, when they cut off my cock. Hell, I never wanted the fucker cut off in the first place. Of course, I never wanted to be a fucking slave, either. God damn, son-of-a-bitchin Roger. Kim said he sold us to the fucking Russians. I no longer wanted to fuck, but I didn’t want to get fucked either. We’re fucking slaves; can you believe that? I didn’t that slaves existed any longer, but it looks like I was wrong. Fuck! I’m a slave; I was damn sure wrong.

Fucking Tommy likes it: he likes getting fucked; he even likes being a slave. He’s some kind of a fucking throwback to the old days when boys were regularly castrated and used by men. At least, he’s happy. I can’t say that for Kim, but Kim hates all men with balls.

I don’t think most boys and men would be better off without balls: I’m better off without mine; although I wish they’d let me keep my cock. I liked it for a hose, at least. I hate having to sit to pee all the time.

Fucking Roger: a few fucking pictures – shit! I should have known there would be more to it than that, especially when that fucking Russian met us in the park. I am a dumb shit, I guess. What kid with any sense would get into a van driven by a fucking Russian? The Establishment? Fucking Russian mafia, that’s what they are. I guess, from talking to some of the other guys, they have places like this all over the States.

Shit…shit…shit. How long will they keep us here? Some of the guys, most of the Russian kids, have been here for years; and will they someday just let us go? The kids that have been here the longest tell me that older kids just disappear one day. Were they let go or were they killed? No one seems to know; but we have no contact with the outside world. Everything we see on TV is recorded, movies and shit. For all I know, the outside world could have ceased to exist – except for all the MacDonald’s shit they feed us and the clients that come and go.