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I shall call myself Jan. A few years ago, I was a vet's assistant to Trudie Mostrue, the Swedish vet featured on TV. I was present when she held castration afternoons once a week. I noted how she became turned on, excited, by taking the animals' balls. Indeed, she hardly made a secret of her pleasure in castrating them. ( Just check you video recordings) She particularly liked taking the balls of Alsations, because she said they were the nearest thing to a man's balls. And, if you remember, she bragged about her testicle collection! Well, I think that's what got me me into it! Whilst I was assisting her in castrating everything from a gerbil to a pussycat, I became friendly with another assistant, Joanne. After work, one evening, we chatted about the procedure and discovered that we both got a thrill from seeing these males being robbed of their bollocks. I don''t know whether it's because we envy them their pleasure without responsibiliy, or if it's a primaeval resentment about the different roles we are assigned. Whatever, we soon cooked up a plan. One Tuesday, we girls got dressed up to the nines, found a hot bar, and set about grooming a victim. We didn't have long to wait. He was a nineteen year old student called Jack. Very handsome, in a boy next door kind of way, and with a nice personality. Once semi drunk, it was no problem to entice him back to our flat. We had a lovely romp, stripped him off and gave him the benefit of two on one. Sucked him off - wanked him stupid and fingered him rotten. He was delirious. Finally, having shot his load twice, he slumped into something like a coma and was totally chilled out. That was when we got our plan into action. With his legs splayed out, his testicles hanging low and contented, it was an easy matter to slip a silk thread looped around his jewels... Slowly, we tightened the loop, cutting of the blood supply to his balls. He didn't notice, being well knackered. We slowly and increasingly pulled on the ends of the thread until we could see that his balls had turned black. We just held the pressure. After only a few minutes, we determined that his balls must be dead. he was still fast asleep. We nodded to each other. I took a sharp knife and slowly drew it up through the top of his scrotum and his balls dropped into my hand. There was a little blood but he never stirred. Then I placed a hot knife against the stumpy bit and it sizzled briefly, sealing the blood vessels. There was little blood. I put his balls in a jar. We girls just embraced ourselves in joy. It was our first castration outing and it had gone like a dream. Next morning, Jack woke up and looked a mite confused. What's the matter, we asked? Sudenly, his hands went to his genital area and he was shocked. "Where are my balls?" he exploded. We handed him a jam-jar with his stones floating in it. "There you go, hero"! We never heard from him again... Surprise, surprise! |