The following is a story originally posted as “Bosnian Castration”. The original posting had some formatting problems, which distracted from the text narrative. In addition, I prefer the word “Emasculation” to define the act of genital abuse depicted here, and I took the opportunity to clean up some of the writing.

Finally, there was no attribution to the author (Finder) for the original posting, for reasons I don’t understand, and it was credited to “Unknown”. For all these reasons I’ve decided to update the story and repost to the Story Archive.

This is a semi-fictional extrapolation of a true event, documented by investigators following the war in Bosnia.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You were their prisoner, confined to a dank concrete cell with half a dozen fellow inmates. When two armed guards brusquely ordered you to strip off your tattered prison uniforms, you and your fellow prisoners glanced furtively at each other, fear and apprehension in everyone’s eyes. There were persistent rumors of what the Serbs had done to some of your countrymen – abuse, atrocities, mutilations, sometimes with a genital focus – but you could only guess at what was to come.

You and six fellow prisoners were marched, buck-naked and barefoot, down the cold cement corridors to the ancient stone-walled courtyard at the center of the prison complex. You blinked and squinted as you emerged into unaccustomed sunlight, and you felt its sudden heat splash across your nakedness.

You were acutely conscious of your male member, swinging from side to side and slapping against your thighs as you walked. You expected it would remain shriveled and cold in apprehension, yet it seemed to hang down longer and heavier as the prisoners were ordered to stand, side by side, in the center of the courtyard. Perhaps it was your abrupt nakedness, the intensified consciousness of its weight and warmth, or the unfamiliar freedom that permitted it to dangle freely and swing as you marched - or maybe a perverse response to the possibilities, the reality of what till now had only been dark rumors. Whatever the reason, you found yourself standing in the surprising heat and glare of unaccustomed sunshine, two arms’ length from your fellow prisoners on each side, legs spread wide as ordered - and – as you cursed your body for betraying you – feeling a slow, halting, but undeniable tumescence underway.

From a door to your left, three local women - girls really, perhaps still in their teens - emerged. They were barefoot, but dressed in a deliberately-provocative version of what looked like peasants' dresses. The tops accentuated their breasts, barely covered; skirts were very short, showing long athletic legs. A guard behind you barked an order to look - unnecessary, as was the momentary pressure of a cold rifle barrel against your bare back. Every prisoner's eyes, which had not viewed a female form in many months, seemed to consume, in great gulps, the nubile young flesh in front of them. The girls stood before you, smiled straight at you with surprising directness, and twirled so all their tanned thighs were revealed under their flying skirts.

Then - in a slow dreamy silence - they began to undress, right there in front of you. Their pert upright breasts bounced up and down, nipples jauntily projecting, as they maneuvered out of the dresses. The flimsy fabric fell to the grass, and the girls stepped toward you, without a trace of modesty or embarrassment, wearing only little lacy underpants.

You realized suddenly that the heat in your genitals was more than the unfamiliar sun washing over your penis. A rush of blood was filling it to its full, trembling, hanging-down length. As you looked into the faces of the girls you realized that all three of them were looking at you – no, gazing raptly at your cock - watching your erection in progress. The tallest girl, in the middle, hooked her thumbs into her underpants and drew them slowly down her thighs to her knees, her eyes never leaving your rising penis. Part of your mind absently noted the thin black cord slung around her naked waist as she stepped out of her panties – wondering what its use could be - but your attention was focused on her neatly-trimmed dark bush, the visible slit below her mound, the center of her femaleness. You tried vainly to still your thudding heartbeat, and to ignore the growing sense of heat and pressure in your traitorous cock. Helplessly, you looked down - the view amply confirming the sensation, as your penis visibly rose higher with every heartbeat.

You realized she was approaching you, naked except for the black cord around her waist. All eyes were on your penis, now approaching full erection. She stood before you, hands on hips, her gaze directed downward, watching it finally reach its hardest throbbing elevation. Even fully erect, you felt the pressure and rigidity of your member continue to grow.

"Such a fine hard-on", you heard her murmer, and her voice seemed to shoot an electric shock straight to your groin. Your penis jumped higher in a spasm of intensified arousal. She laughed at this, then said, "I'm so glad you like me. Remember how good it feels".

Your whirling mind tried to make sense of this, and an out-of-control panic grew in some far corner. You could not will that erection down, and the massed attention focused on it - whatever the consequences - seemed only to make it harder.

With a start you felt her finger touch it lightly on its underside, and it leaped up again. The cool fingers stayed with it, stroked down the hot taut skin to your scrotum, then slowly back again to the tip. You groaned once, in escalating arousal. You hadn't come in weeks, and the ache in your testicles grew to a rolling boil. You felt her hand closing, very lightly at first, wrapping gently around your trembling, burning-hot shaft, then sliding along its length towards its junction with your body. At the base she stopped and slowly squeezed. The exposed shaft and glans turned a darker purplish red. She squeezed even harder, with surprising strength, then jerked your penis firmly toward her. You were nearly unbalanced, and had to step forward.

Spasms of pre-ejaculatory contractions shot down the length of your erect penis, from its roots deep in your body to the swollen glans. Feeling it, she laughed lightly again, and with a mixture of panic and desperate lust you wondered if she was going to make you come, right there in front of the other girls, the guards, the other prisoners. She reduced the pressure and began faster strokes, her fist thudding into your body at the base of your penis, then sliding full-length to the tip.

"I want this ... give it to me", she said. In the small remaining sober corner of your mind you knew she must be talking about your imminent ejaculation. Despite your embarrassment, your humiliation, the boiling semen could hold back no longer - a huge surge began deep in your body, building and racing up the length of your erection, exploding past her firm grip - a jet of white semen shot out, splashed against her taut belly. Your knees nearly buckled, your face searched skyward, so you didn't see her reaching behind her back with her other hand. She stroked again, hard and full-length, pulling a second burst of semen from your cock and she turned slightly, a quick dance step to the side.

From the corner of your eye you caught the flash of steel in sunlight as her right hand swept forward and upwards, toward you. Her firm grip on your erection tightened as your second spurt was launched, this time missing her, arcing high into the air past her breasts.

You felt the sudden bite of cold steel, scalpel-sharp, slicing into the underside of your penis just forward of your balls, the electric shock of pain as the steel passed through your pulsing urethra, full of rushing semen. Your head jerked down in amazement, to see her blade sawing to the left and upwards as she pulled it through the rigid shaft, followed by a spray of blood as it penetrated the pressure-filled corpora cavernosa. You watched the blade slice seemingly without resistance through the core of your penis, cleanly parting the skin up both sides of the shaft. She sawed the blade back to the right, still pulling hard on you as the steel advanced upwards through the nearly-severed organ; for a moment your penis looked a few centimeters longer as the last bridge of connecting skin was stretched long by her strong pull on it.

The illusion vanished as the blood-slicked blade emerged through the thin top skin of the shaft, and you looked down in dumb disbelief as your cleanly-severed penis came away in her hand. A gush of blood poured from its new end, while somehow the remainder of your genitals mindlessly continued their ejaculation. From the centimeter-long stump of your penis, spurts of semen were launched past the outpouring of blood from the severed cylinders of flesh.

She stepped away from you with a triumphant grin, your penis still firmly in her grasp, raising her hand high in the air so all could see. Blood and semen mingled and ran down her upraised arm. The short knife was in her other hand, a thin smear of blood and semen across the blade.

You collapsed to your knees. Your head turned toward your fellow prisoners to the right for some reason, and you could see, like a line of soldiers standing at attention, three penises in a state of rigid erection, doomed.

"Oh good", you heard her say, as she moved toward the next man on your right. "I'm so glad you like me too."

*******************************************************

The following text is a portion of Section D4 of a report that at one time was available at:

www.emse.fr/maillot/HTML/PERSO/F/YUGO/ONU/EXPERTS/ANX

4. Other areas of Croatia: ... One incident involved prisoners lined up naked while Serb women from outside undressed in front of them. If any prisoner had an erection, his penis was cut off. The witness saw a named

Serb woman thus castrate a prisoner.