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For the Best I was lying in bed, about to go to sleep, when Mother came in to my room. "Have you played with yourself before?" Mother asked me. I raised my eyebrow, feigning ignorance, though I knew what she's asking -- have I jerked off? I have, of course. I have been for two years, since I was twelve. Hell, it's my favorite pastime. I jack off three or four times a day. I was about to jack off before going to sleep. Although I've never been caught doing it, I thought she must know. Don't all boys my age jack off? When I don't answer, she says, "Do you masturbate?" "Mother!" "Well, it doesn't matter. If you want to, you can. This might be your last chance." "What do you mean?" I asked. Why would this be my last chance? Why would she think she needed to give me permission to jack off? "I've decided to have you snipped tomorrow. You're not handling puberty well -- in trouble at school and misbehaving at home. Your school counselor has recommended that I have you snipped. Even without his recommendation, I had pretty well decided to do it, but he made up my mind for me. I've called the clinic. They'll do you at nine." Fuck. She was going to have my balls snipped. Sure -- many of the boys at school -- almost half of them, probably -- had been snipped, but I never thought I would be. I made fun of those that had been snipped; now she was going to have my balls snipped. "Please, Mother -- don't. I'll be good. You'll see." "It's too late. I've already made up my mind." "Please! I don't want to be snipped. I don't want to go to school without balls. You don't know what it's like. The boys that still have balls will make fun of me." I don't tell her how much I like jacking off. That would just make her all the more determined to have me snipped. Most of the boys that have been snipped don't jack off any longer. Some of them say they do, but that they can't squirt. Shit -- that's one of the best things about jerking off, shooting long ropes of cum. Would I still want to jack off after I'd been snipped? The boys with balls would make fun of me. I've made fun of those that had no balls, calling them ball-less -- calling them eunuchs. Fuck -- I don't want to be a eunuch -- fucking ball-less eunuch, with a shrunken cock and an empty ball sack hanging from it. Your cock shrinks when they cut off your balls. Marty Greenburg had his balls snipped last year. He had a big cock, but now, it's shrunken up smaller than mine. What about my friends that have balls? All of my friends have balls. When a boy has his balls cut off, he's ostracized by those that still have balls. Will I be? Will I have to look for friends among the ball-less boys -- the ones I make fun of? Marty used to be my friend before his balls were cut off. He used to come over to my house. I never asked him over, after he was snipped. It's just not acceptable for a boy with balls to associate with one that has none. They're in a different class. Oh, some boys with balls do -- they talk to ball-less boys -- but it's not cool. Oh, shit -- the girls. I was about to get into Rachael Child's pants. We had a date this weekend. I'm certain she would have let me fuck her. She as much as said she would. If I'm cut tomorrow, she won't even talk to me. Girls don't talk to ball-less boys. Oh, some do to the girly eunuchs, those that have become like girls since they had their balls cut off, but they treat them like girls, not like boys. Fuck -- Rachael was going to be my first piece of ass. If I was snipped, I would never get any. "Mom -- please. Don't do it. I'll do anything you want. I'll be good -- I promise. I'll even study and get good grades." "It's too late, Luke. I've already scheduled it." I threw back my covers, about to jump out of bed. I don't know what I was going to do, runaway or what? All I knew was that I didn't want to have my balls snipped. Mother was too quick for me. She stepped through my door, locking it from the outside. I'd seen the lock on my door when I'd come home from school, wondering about it. Now, I knew what it was for. I heard her say through the door, "Men from the clinic will be here in the morning to pick you up. It's for the best, Luke." For the best? How could it be for the best to have my balls cut off? I tried the door. It wouldn't budge. I looked toward my window, but it doesn't open. Our apartment is twelve floors up. Shit. I wish I'd gone to live with my father. He wouldn't have had my balls cut off. I would have called him, but she had taken my phone. I pounded on the door. "Mom, I have to pee." But if she heard me, she didn't answer. I pounded on the door, until my hand hurt, but she didn't answer. Finally, I lay back on my bed. Nine o'clock. That's what she'd said, hadn't she? They were going to cut off my balls at nine o'clock. That probably meant they'd come to get me about 7:30. The clinic cut the balls off boys all the time, so they'd know how to handle one that didn't want to be snipped. Did any boy want his balls cut off? I didn't think so. I sure as hell didn't want mine cut off. Shit -- I had a boner. I grabbed it. They were going to cut off my balls. I pulled on my cock, sliding my foreskin over its head. Goddamn -- it felt good. I loved jacking off, and they were going to cut off my balls. I was going to get some pussy this weekend -- and they were going to cut off my balls. There's no fucking justice. Why did they pass that law that allowed parents or school authorities to castrate boys? No one castrates girls. I took it slow, sliding my hand to and fro on my cock. I wanted it to last. Usually, I was in a hurry, but then, I wanted it to last. After the next day, I might not want to do it, and if I did, would it feel the same without my balls? Would I be able to shoot, without my balls? I closed my eyes -- bit my lip -- feeling the pressure build up in my groin. I knew it wouldn't be long. Drops of precum were leaking from the slit in my cock. Then -- oh shit -- like a dam bursting, spunk shot from my dick. God -- is there a better feeling in the whole world? Why did Mother want to take it away from me? It was usually mothers that decided to have their sons castrated, not fathers. Fathers were once boys. They knew what they would be taking from their sons. What father would want his boy castrated? Why hadn't I gone to live with my father? Had I known my mother would have me castrated, I would have. My dad's a son-of-a-bitch sometimes, but I think he would have let me keep my balls. Has mother told him I'm about to be snipped? What did he say, if she told him? She has full custody, though. He wouldn't have been able to stop it. Still, if I could get out of here, I'd go to him. Maybe he'd think of a way out for me, so I wouldn't get snipped tomorrow. Snipped -- fuck -- fuck -- fuck. They were going to cut off my balls, and there didn't seem to be a goddamn thing I could do about it. Snipped boys have said it doesn't hurt. They put you out first; then you awake without balls -- just an empty sack. They'll give you your balls in a little bottle, if you want them. One brought his to school, showing them to everyone. They looked pretty weird, floating in some kind of liquid, little oblong things with strings attached to them. Should I keep mine? Did I want to keep my balls in a bottle? Fuck -- I can't believe I'm going to have them cut off. I thought about pounding on the door some more, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. Once Mother makes up her mind, there's not a chance in hell that anything I say will change it. I hate her. I fucking hate her for doing this to me. If she thinks this will make me a good boy, she's mistaken. She'll see. She'll regret having me snipped. Of course, everyone at school will know I've been snipped. They post a list on the Internet of all snipped boys. Someone will read the list before I return to school. I could see it: Boys snipped 04/07/2027. Somewhere, under the S's would be my name, Lucas Simmons. I've check the list myself to see if anyone I knew was on it. They'll all know when I walk into school. "Hey, Simons, hear you've been snipped. How do you like being a eunuch? Hey, guys -- Simons' our newest eunuch. They cut off his balls." Yeah, and someone would say it in the hallway, in front of the girls. Everyone would know, even those that didn't check the list. Rachael would know. She'd never let me fuck her now. What girl wants to be fucked by a ball-less eunuch? Would I still be a boy? We boys with balls -- I wouldn't be one of those much longer -- claimed that those that had been snipped were no longer boys. "Why don't you have your cock cut off?" we said to them. "You could have them make you a pussy. At least then, you'd be good for something?" Fucking ball-less. One more day and I'd be fucking ball-less. All the time I was thinking, I was jacking off. I wanted to drain my balls, before they were cut off. I usually used a paper towel to wipe up my cum, not wanting Mother to know I was jacking off. That night, I didn't. I wiped it on the sheet. She'd said I could jack off, and I no longer cared what she thought. I jacked off until my dick was sore. Somehow, I fell asleep. I didn't think I would, but I did. It was probably 2:00 AM or 3:00 AM, but I fell asleep. I awoke when Mother opened the door. "You're probably hungry," she said, "but they don't want you to eat before your operation." I could see a man behind her. He was dressed in white, a man from the clinic to pick me up. He stepped into the room, followed by another man. "Come along quietly," he said. "It'll do no good to resist. I'd rather not have to put you in restraints. Your mother's having this done for your own good." There was that again -- for your own good. How could it be for a boy's own good to have his balls cut off? If a boy wasn't meant to have balls, why was he born with them? I'll bet both of these guys still had their balls. If having your balls cut off was good for you, why didn't they have theirs cut off? "Mom --" I said again, "please don't let them take me. I don't want to be snipped." "Sorry, Luke," she said, "I've already decided. Besides, if I didn't have it done, the school would. Your counselor, Mr. Freedman, said they were strongly considering you for castration -- that it would be best for me to have it done, before they obtained a court order for it. It'll look better on your record, that I had you castrated." It wasn't my record, she was thinking about; it was the fucking tax deduction. If she volunteered me to be castrated, she'd get the deduction. If she waited for the school to order it, she wouldn't. "But, what have I done to deserve getting snipped?" "You're in trouble at school all the time -- and you harass the boys that have been snipped. Many of them have complained about you. This will be one way to stop that, won't it. Why would you harass boys that have been snipped, if you're one of them? " "But, all my friends have balls. I won't have any friends, if you have mine cut off." "You'll make new friends among those that have been snipped -- nice boys, not the rowdy friends you have now." "But, all my friends will make fun of me." "Then," said my mother, "they weren't really your friends, were they?" "Can we take him now?" the man said, "We're on a tight schedule. There's other boys needing castration today. As soon as we wheel one out of the operating room, we wheel another in." "How long will it take?" asked Mother. "The operation -- an hour or an hour and a half. He'll come out from under the anesthetic within a few minutes after his orchiectomy. You can pick him up about 10:30-11:00 AM. "You're not coming?" I ask Mother. I don't know why I want her there -- she's the one having my balls cut off -- but I do. I want someone I know there. "No," I'll be there to pick you up. These men will take you directly to the operating room." "Come along," the man said, grabbing my arm. I start to pull away, but what's the use? There's two of them, and they're a hell of a lot bigger than I am. "I have to get dressed," I said. I was fucking naked. I'd been so concerned that my balls were about to be cut off, I hadn't thought about being naked in front of strangers. "No need," he said. "Your mother can bring you some cloths at the clinic. You don't need any until then. When we get you to the clinic, we'd just have to undress you anyway." "You're going to take me to the clinic naked? People will see me." "If we pick up a boy, we bring him in naked. That prevents him from smuggling in anything from the outside. Anyway, we're parked in back. We'll take the service elevator. I doubt that anyone will see you." "What about at the clinic?" "We bring in naked boys all the time. You won't be the first one. Everyone will know what you're there for. What does it matter that you're naked?" "What do you mean, everyone?" "Oh, there's usually a crowd waiting to watch the boys arrive for their snipping." "And, you're going to take me there naked?" "It only takes a minute or two to go from the car to the clinic," he said. "You'll be inside before you know it." Fuck -- not only were they going to cut off my balls, but they were going to parade me naked in front of a bunch of strangers. I didn't even make it out of my apartment building without being seen. Mr. Ransom -- two doors down from us -- was opening the door to his apartment when we came out of ours. He looked at me -- at the two men, each holding onto one of my arms -- the clinic logo in their uniforms. "Getting snipped today, are we, Luke? Good show. It's for the best. I guess that'll settle you down some." Fuck -- for the best. How would he like for them to snip him? Boys weren't being snipped when he was in school -- the old fart. Lucky son of a bitch. "Fuck you," I said. I felt the fingers of the one on my right dig into my arm. Mr. Ransom smiled. "Yes," he said. "You do need snipping." Going down the service elevator, we didn't run into anyone else from my apartment. It didn't matter. Everyone would know. Old man Ransom would tell everyone. It was about a thirty minute ride to the clinic. They stuck me in the back. The door and window controls were disabled. I tried them -- nothing. There was a crowd gathered around the entrance to the clinic. They cheered when we drove up. "A naked one," I heard someone say. "Say goodbye to your balls," another said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another car pull up. I didn't pay it any attention. I was fucking naked and wanted to get inside, away from the jeering crowd. Everyone knew what that place was, and that I was there to get snipped. They were laughing at me I heard one little girl ask her mother, "Is that boy going to get snipped?" Fuck -- let me inside, and let's get this over with. "Simons," I heard someone say. I looked around. Getting out of the car was Jamie Wetzel, a boy my age -- one of my friends -- from school. Both his mother and father were with him. What were they doing at the clinic? Had my mother told Jamie's parents I was getting snipped? "Are you getting snipped?" Jamie asked. "Duh," I said, "what do you think?" Fuck -- I was naked, in front of the castration clinic. That's all they did there -- castrate boys. "Me, too," he said. When he did, the crown cheered. He started crying. Turning to his dad, he said, "Please, Dad -- don't let them snip me." "We've already discussed this, Jamie. It's for the best. Look, Luke's getting snipped. You were afraid you wouldn't have any friends once you were snipped, but Luke's your friend, and he's getting snipped. "I don't care, I don't want to get snipped." He tried to get back into the car. His father grabbed his arm, turning his head in our direction, "Give us a hand," he said to the men with me. One of them turned loose of my arm and went to help Mr. Wetzel with Jamie. Jamie struggled as they dragged him to the door. "Settle down, Jamie, his father said. "Look, Luke isn't fighting it. He knows it's for the best. Fuck if I did. I just knew it wouldn't do any good to fight it. I'd accepted that I was going to have my balls snipped. I didn't like it, but I had accepted it. "Give it up, Jamie," I said, "No use fighting it." I wanted to get inside, and he was delaying that. Too, I wanted Jamie to get snipped. Not that I have anything against Jamie -- I like him. I just didn't want to be the only one I knew getting snipped. At least, I'd have one friend. Jamie and I could still be friends. Maybe -- with time -- I'd make friends of the other ball-less boys. I knew I wouldn't be friends any longer with those that had balls. That was the rule among the boys that had balls, wasn't it -- you can't be friends with ball-less boys? "It won't be so bad, Jamie." I didn't believe it, but I didn't want to give Jamie the chance to talk his Dad out of it. I didn't want to be the only one getting snipped. "Maybe it is for the best." I didn't believe that either. Another thing I couldn't believe was that Jamie's father was getting him snipped. Why would a father want his son snipped? Wouldn't he know what it would cost him? Didn't he know how much fun jacking off was? Hell, Jamie had never had any pussy either. How could his father deny him a chance at some pussy? Fuck -- neither Jamie or I would get any, now. Finally, we were at the check-in desk. People were in the hallway, and I was still naked, but no one paid me any attention. I could have been fully clothed for all they noticed. I guess they saw naked boys brought in all the time. Mrs. Wetzel eyed me, though. I wondered if she saw Jamie naked. Jamie no longer fought it. Maybe my words had calmed him down. I put my arm around him. I felt a little weird doing it, since I was naked, but I was looking for comfort. "We'll still be friends," I said, "I'm glad we're getting snipped at the same time." "I don't want to be snipped at all," said Jamie. "I don't either," I said, "but since I am, I'm glad I'm being snipped with you." I was. At that moment, I felt Jamie was the best friend I'd ever had. He hadn't been; he'd been a friend, but Terry McGee had been my best friend; Jamie was now, though. He might be my only friend. "Yeah," said Jamie. "I'm glad you're getting snipped with me, too." "Operating room B, 9:00 Am," the receptionist said to the men accompanying me. Then, I heard her say the same to Jamie's father. I turned to the guy that had brought me in, "The same operating room?" "Sure," he said. "They do three boys at the same time, and we have three operating rooms going round the clock. That's over a hundred boys a day. Two hundred balls a day cut off." He laughed. "Have you had yours snipped?" I asked. "Hell, no," he answered. I thought not. Yet it was for the best, that I was getting mine snipped. I'd believe that more from some other guy that had had his snipped. How could anyone that still had his balls know it was for the best? Yeah -- it was for the best, if it were the other guy getting snipped. I didn't think I'd ever tell anyone it was for the best. We arrived at Operating room B, the prep room for operating room B, anyway. They had Jamie strip, and we walked into the shower room together. "How long have you known you were getting snipped? he asked. "Fuck -- I just found out last night. My mom sprang it on me, then locked me in my room. Otherwise I would have run away. How long have you known?" "My dad told me two weeks ago that he was thinking about having me snipped." "Why didn't you run away?" I asked. "I didn't have anywhere to go; and I was hoping I could talk him out of it." "But, you never said anything?" "Would you have said anything, if you knew you were about to get snipped?" asked Jamie. "You know how much we poke fun at snipped boys. I didn't want anyone to know my dad was thinking about having me snipped." I was getting hard, standing there, naked, looking at a naked Jamie -- looking at his balls that were about to get snipped. I'm not queer or anything. I've jacked off with other boys -- everyone does that -- but standing there, looking at Jamie's balls, knowing they were about to be snipped gave me a woody. Jamie grinned. "You've got a boner," he said. "Yeah," I said. "You want to jerk off?" "You think we should -- here?" "Why not? What are they going to do about it -- cut off our balls?" Jamie giggled. Jamie came first. He probably hadn't jerked off ten times, like I had the night before. I was shooting when one of the orderlies poked his head around the corner. "I hope you enjoyed that boys." Jamie still had his dick in his hand, milking it for the last few drops of spunk. Cum was still gushing out of mine. I didn't shoot very far, but I had pretty well drained my balls the night before. "Come on. Scrub good, especially your balls and the inside of your legs. Use some of the soap in the bottle. We have to get you prepped. I have to shave you before you're snipped." "Have you been snipped?" I asked. That was the first time I'd seen that orderly. "Hell, no," he said, "but it'll be good for you. It's for the best. Come on, boys. Scrub good. You don't want to get an infection. You do, and they might have to cut off your cocks. You wouldn't want that, would you?" He chuckled. "Huh -- huh -- huh," was how it sounded. Fucking funny wasn't it -- as long as it were our balls getting snipped? We scrubbed down with the soap. "Can you believe it?" asked Jamie. "They're really going to cut off our balls. We're going to be eunuchs like the others. Fucking, ball-less, eunuchs." "Yeah, I know. Sucks, doesn't it?" We dried off. The orderly that had looked in on us, had us lie down on at table, then shaved off our pubic hair -- all the curlies -- the hair on our ball sacks and the hair on our legs, half way to our knees. "Fuck," said Jamie," I'm as bare as my little brother." Jamie had an eight year-old brother, Jeremy. I wondered if Jamie's father would have him snipped, too. After splashing some brown liquid all over our groins -- paying particular attention to our balls -- the orderly had us lie down on some rolling tables. Each had a thin mattress on it. The mattress had a plastic cover. Another orderly came over, and the two of them wheeled us into the operating room. "Just the two of you," the new orderly said. "The third boy was a no show. Guess he keeps his balls for another day, anyway. You guys won't. Another two hours, and they'll be off, lying in a bowl." Fucking sadist. Why did he have to keep reminding us? Why did it seem to give him so much pleasure that we were about to be castrated? "Have you been snipped," I asked. "Hell, no," he said, but it's best that you're about to be. It's for the best, you'll see." Another one. Another guy with balls, telling me it was for the best that I was getting mine cut off. My fucking counselor, Mr. Freedman, probably still had his balls, but he'd told Mom it was for the best that I have mine cut off. Of course, since she doesn't have any, she doesn't know how important mine are to me. Once in the operating room, the orderlies started IVs in our arms. Drip -- drip -- drip. I watched the clear liquid drip from a plastic bag. Then the anesthesiologist came in. "Well, boys. Are you ready to get snipped?" "Hell, no," said Jamie and me, together. "It's for the best," said the anesthesiologist. I didn't ask him if he still has his balls. I knew what his answer would be. He had two hypodermics in his hand. "I'm going to inject these into your IV lines. You'll go to sleep. In what seems like an instant, you'll be awake, but it'll all be over. Would either of you like to keep your balls? I'll have them put in a bottle for you, if you do." I looked at Jamie. "What do you think?" I ask, "Do you want to keep yours?" He nodded, looking like he's about to cry again. I felt like crying myself. "Yeah," I told the anesthesiologist, "We'll keep them." We'll keep them in their fucking sacks, I wanted to tell him but I didn't. He shot Jamie up first. I watched as Jamie's eyes rolled back in his head. He was out just like that, his eyes open slightly. "Jamie," I said, but he didn't answer. Then it was my turn. That's the last thing in the operating room I remembered. Next I knew, I was lying on a bed next to Jamie in the recovery room. It had only seemed like an instant. I wasn't sleepy or even drowsy. I was wide awake. Had they done it? Had they taken my balls? Had I been snipped? It didn't seem possible. It didn't seem that enough time had passed for them to have cut off my balls. I looked over at Jamie. He, too, was awake. "Maybe they didn't do it," I said. I didn't feel any different. I didn't feel like my balls had been cut off -- of course, how would I know? I'd never had them cut off before. I guess I thought it would hurt, that I'd know they were gone, but I didn't feel anything, no pain in my balls -- nothing. Maybe they didn't cut off my balls. "I -- I don't know," said Jamie. "I don't hurt. Do you?" "No. I don't hurt." I pulled up my grown -- one of those fucking, tie-in-the-back things. I still couldn't tell. My ball sack looked full, like my balls were still in it, and with the brown liquid all over it, it was hard to tell if they'd cut on it. Then I heard Jamie say -- he was examining his balls, too -- "Fuck, there's stitches in my ball sack -- on each side up by the top." I examined my ball sack there -- where he'd told me -- up at the top. I'd been looking for stitches down the center of mine. I had thought they would have split my sack down the middle to take out my balls. Sure enough, I had stitches, too. I felt my ball sack. It felt full, but I couldn't feel individual balls. Everything was numb Even my dick was numb. "Careful boys," I heard, "you don't want to press too hard. You might cause bleeding." A man had come into the room. He had two little bottles in his hand. He looked at the labels on them. "Let's see -- Simmons. That's you." He handed the bottle to me. It had my name on it. Two balls were in it. I knew what cut off balls looked like, having seen the ones that kid brought to school. He handed the other bottle to Jamie. I didn't have to look to know it had his balls in it. Fuck -- they had snipped me. I was a fucking eunuch. So was Jamie. I was glad Jamie was, since I was. At least, I wasn't alone. I'd have one friend in school, one fellow eunuch. Maybe we could make friends with the other eunuchs. They weren't such bad guys. I didn't know why I'd poked so much fun at them. They couldn't help it that they'd been castrated. I hadn't wanted to be, but I had been. I'm sure they hadn't wanted to be snipped either. "I'm PA Jensen," the man said. I knew what that was -- physician's assistant. They wouldn't saddle real doctors with castrating kids. "I did you," he said to me. "You boys might be a little sore, once the anesthetic wears off, but I'll give you some pain pills. I want you to take it easy for for the rest of the day, but you can be up and about tomorrow. Just don't over do it. No football or running about for a couple of weeks. You can go to school on Monday, but I'll give you a note to get you out of P.E. for the next couple of weeks. Tell your parents to call me, if you experience any excessive draining or swelling. You should be all right, though. It went well." "But it looks like I've still got balls," Jamie said. "Are you sure mine were cut off?" "Oh, yes," said Jensen, "Those are your testicles in the bottle. I put them there, myself -- took them out of the bowl, where PA Caruthers put them. He was still stitching you up. I'm a little quicker than he is. He does good work, though. Both of you should heal nicely. What you see is swelling. It'll go down in few weeks. Wait a about a week, then you can take hot sitz baths. That will help the swelling go down. Well, nice meeting you boys. It was a pleasure snipping your balls," he said to me, a leering grin on his face. At least it didn't say, it's for the best. Then, he poked his head back into the room. "I know you boys probably aren't happy about being snipped -- but it's for the best." Fuck -- if I'd had something in my hand -- other than the bottle with my balls in it -- for some reason I wanted to keep them -- I would have thrown it at him. But he was gone. "Do you feel any different?" asked Jamie. "No," I said, "but my ball sack is numb, and I guess the juices from my balls -- testosterone and shit -- are still in me. I guess it'll take a while." "Yeah," said Jamie, "I guess." Then his parents came into the room. "Hello, boys," said his father. "Well, it's over. It wasn't so bad, was it?" Jamie said, "No." I didn't say anything. It wasn't so bad in that I hadn't felt any pain, that it had been over before I knew it, and that I wasn't hurting now -- but I held my balls in my hand. They were no longer in their sack, where they belonged. That was bad, wasn't it? I was a fucking eunuch, wasn't I? That was certainly nothing to cheer about. Mr. Wetzel noticed the bottle I was holding up to my eye. What's that, Luke?" he asked. "My balls," I answered. I heard Mrs. Wetzel titter. "Do you have yours, Jamie?" Jamie nodded and pulled his bottle out from beneath his sheet, where he'd put it. "That's a good place for them," said Mr. Wetzel. Much better than on you. You'll like being snipped after a while, won't he Luke?" He was asking me? Like I had wanted it? I was about to shout at him, Hell, no, he won't like it, you idiot, but then he might not let us be friends, and more than anything, I wanted Jamie for a friend. "Yes, Mr. Wetzel, I think we'll both like it." "See, Jamie." He patted his son's shoulder. "Give your mother the bottle. She'll put it in her purse. You can put it up on the shelf in your room, if you want. Time for you to get dressed and go home." Jamie's mother stepped out of the room to give Jamie some privacy while he dressed -- my mother never would have, and I don't know why she did. She had his balls in her purse. How more embarrassing than that, could dressing in front of her be? Where's your balls, Jamie? Oh, they're in my mother's purse. "See ya," said Jamie, as they were leaving. "Yeah, see ya," I replied. They were gone. I had to wait for my mother. It was another thirty minutes before she came. "What took you so long?" I asked. "How long have you been out?" "About forty-five minutes," I said. "I didn't know it'd be done so quickly. It's only 11:15." "They told you 10:30 or 11:00." "I thought it'd take longer. What's that in your hand?" "My balls," I said. "Why do you have those nasty things? Give them to me, and I'll throw them in the trash." "I want to keep them." "Why would you want to keep them?" "I just do. You had them cut off; isn't that enough? I want to fucking keep them. They're in a bottle, not hanging from my dick, Isn't that enough for you?" "Don't get smart with me, Lukas. I thought being castrated calmed boys down." "Well, they've just been cut off, Mom. I don't think my body even realizes it yet. I guess we'll have to wait a day or two to see if having no balls calms me down." "Give them to me then. I'll put them in my purse." "I don't want you to put them in your purse. I'll put them in my pocket." If I gave them to her, I'd probably never see them again. She handed me the clothes she'd brought for me. As I expected, she stayed while I dressed. I caught her glancing at my ball sack. "What?" I asked. "It looks like you still have testicles. Are you certain they cut them off?" I pulled the bottle out of my pocket. "That's just swelling, Mom. Here's my balls. I held the bottle up for her to see. Look -- my name's on the bottle. Those little do-dads in it are my balls. They cut them off, all right." I guess I convinced her. She didn't say anything else about it. I waited a couple of days, until I wasn't too sore, then jacked off. I still could; it still felt good. I could still shoot. My ball sack was still swollen. If I didn't have the bottle with my balls in it, I would have sworn they were still in their sack. I knew they weren't, though. They were in the bottle. Well, it wouldn't be too bad not having balls, if I could still jack off -- if I could still cum. It'd only been a couple of days. I'd have to give it a while longer, I guessed. I surfed the Internet, learning all I could about castration, the effects of it. Before I went to school on Monday, I wanted to know what to expect. It would take a while for the testosterone to be flushed from my body I learned. I might still be able to jack off -- even cum -- but probably wouldn't shoot: no balls -- no ropes of cum. Without balls, the prostate shrinks. My cock might even shrink. Fuck -- it was small enough already. What's scary is that I might not want to jack off. I might not get turned on. I love being turned on. I'd miss that as much as anything, that tingle all over feeling, the tension that only jacking off can relieve. I guessed -- once the testosterone is flushed out -- I would no longer feel that. On Sunday night, I called Jamie. "How's it going, stud?" I asked. "Fuck you," was his reply. "You going to school tomorrow?" "Yeah," he said, "You?" "Yeah. Say -- let's go together. I'll meet you at your house, and we'll walk to school together." "OK," he said. "I'd like that. They're going to give us hell. You know that, don't you?" "Fuck them, fucking testosterone driven idiots." Why had I said that? Well, they were different. Their balls still pumped out testosterone. My balls floated in a bottle. Jamie laughed. "Yeah, fucking testosterone driven idiots," he repeated. "Be at your house at 7:30, I said. "OK." I jacked off once more, before going to sleep. I still could. I still came, maybe not as much spunk as before, but I couldn't tell for sure. Even with balls, I sometimes shot a lot, and sometimes I didn't shoot so much. I woke up Monday morning with a hard-on. That was a relief. Eunuchs don't usually have nocturnal erections. I didn't jack off. I thought I'd wait until that night. I wondered if Jamie was still jacking off. I'd ask him when I saw him. "Do you still jack off?" I asked Jamie, as we walked to school. "Yeah -- you?" "Yeah," I said. "Do you feel any different?" "No," said Jamie, "and my ball sack still seems full. If I didn't have my balls in a bottle on my shelf, I'd think I still had them." "Me, too." Soon after we walked into school, I heard someone say, "Hey, it's the two newest eunuchs. How does it feel to be ball-less?" It was Ronnie Xavier. He -- of course -- still had his balls. A couple of girls snickered. Yeah, fucking announce it to everyone, I thought. I wanted to punch him, but I didn't. What good would it do? There'd just be others we'd have to put up with before the day was over. When I walked into my first class, the teacher told me, "Mr. Freedman wants to see you?" "Now?" I asked. "Yes, now," she replied. Jamie was waiting in Freedman's outer office. "You, too?" I asked. "Yeah, my teacher told me to report to Mr. Freedman." In a few minutes, he came out. "Come in, boys. I understand you were both snipped at the same time, and that's what I want to talk to you about. I don't think it'll hurt to talk to you about it at the same time -- unless one of you objects." I looked at Jamie. He looked at me. We both shrugged. "We don't care," I said. "Then come in to my office." We went in, taking a seat in a couple of chairs in front of his desk. He took a seat behind it. "Well, boys, it's done. How do you feel about it, now? It's not so bad, is it?" "I don't know, yet," I said. "They only cut them off five days ago. It still feels like I have them. My ba -- my scrotum," I correct myself, "still seems full; and I don't really feel any different." "Me neither," said Jaime. "Well, I'm glad you were both snipped at the same time -- my suggestion, by the way. It's easier for a boy to adjust, if there's another boy going through the experience at the same time." "Did you suggest it to my mom, that she have my balls snipped?" "Yes," he said, "I thought it would be for the best." There was that fucking phrase again. "Did you suggest it to Jamie's dad, too?" "Yes, I thought it was best that he was snipped, too. I know it hard for you boys to accept it just now, but give it some time. Puberty is a difficult time for boys. Of course, you've already experienced a couple of years of it, but now that you've had your balls snipped, you'll find life a lot easier. Testosterone is poison for most boys. Few can handle it. You'll find that you're a lot calmer, not confronted by the stresses and urges brought on by testosterone. Actually, I wish we could have had you done two or three years ago, before you started puberty. We could have had you snipped then, and you wouldn't have noticed the difference. You wouldn't have missed having testicles, because you wouldn't have started puberty." "Oh," he turned to Jamie. "I've talked it over with your father. We've going to have Jeremy snipped when he's ten, before he starts puberty. He'll never have to go through what you boys have." Yeah, I thought. His dick will never grow, he won't grow pubic hair, and he'll never be able to jack off. You're really doing him a fucking favor. At least, I can still jack off, even though I've been snipped. "I wish I'd been snipped then," said Jamie. I looked at him, my eyes wide with surprise, "Why?" I asked. "So I wouldn't know what I was missing. Wouldn't it be better that way? I mean -- if you'd never masturbated, then you wouldn't miss it. If you didn't know how good it felt, you wouldn't care that you'd been snipped. You wouldn't even miss your balls." "I guess," I said. "That's right," said Freedman. "Just think how lucky Jeremy will be. He won't miss having testicles in the least; and he'll never suffer puberty. Now, about you boys. I wanted to tell you what to expect. Are you still masturbating?" I looked at Jamie -- he shrugged. I took that as permission to say, "Yes." "I think you'll find that as the testosterone flushes from your bodies, you won't want to. You might still be able to -- in other words, you might still be able to have erections -- you might even climax -- but it won't be important any longer. You won't feel like you HAVE to masturbate. You'll probably do it out of curiosity -- to see if you still can -- rather than because you feel a need to. If you do masturbate, you probably won't ejaculate, and if you do, it will just be some clear ejaculate. It won't be white like it is now. Don't let that frighten you. That's normal. Without testicles your prostate will atrophy. It won't produce the fluid it did before. Now, you might think your ejaculate is clear because you no longer have testicles, but that's not the case. Most of what you see when you ejaculate is produced outside of your testicles, by your prostate and other sex organs by it. Without testosterone, they'll shrink and no longer produce ejaculate. But, as I said, that's normal. Just think, no more sticky mess." He grinned. I didn't think it was so funny. I liked shooting spunk -- creamy, white, sticky, spunk. "You might have hot flashes, while your body readjusts to no testosterone, but they should go away with time. I've arranged with your mothers for calcium supplements. We don't want you to develop osteoporosis. You'll notice some other changes. Your hips will fill out -- you may even develop small breasts -- and your faces might soften, becoming less angular. That's all part of being a eunuch. You're not boys any longer. You're eunuchs. The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be." "Are we turning into girls?" I'd seen other eunuchs with tits. That was something else we teased them about. "No, you're not turning into girls. Think of yourselves as a third gender, neither girl or boy. You're eunuchs. You're special -- a gender of your own. I know it's hard to accept now, but more boys are being castrated every day. Soon eunuchs may outnumber intact boys. If I have my way, they will; and others feel the same. In this overpopulated world, there's no need for so many boys with testicles; and eunuchs make better students and better adults. You'll come to accept being eunuchs. One day you'll agree it was for the best that you were snipped." "I hate that," I said. "Hate what?" Freedman asked. "For people to say it's for the best." "I can understand how you might feel, but you still have a lot of testosterone in you. Give it a chance. Once it's flushed out of your bodies, you feel differently. You'll be glad that you no longer have testicles -- that your lives aren't being ruled by testosterone -- possibly ruined by it. One day, I expect each of you to come up to me and say, Mr. Freedman. Thank you. I'm glad I was snipped." I didn't think so, but I didn't say anything. The first day was hell, just like I knew it would be. Boys with balls would no longer accepted us, and the eunuchs -- remembering how we'd so recently harassed them -- didn't either. I was grateful to Freedmen for arranging for Jamie and me to be snipped at the same time. I don't know what I would have done without Jamie. * * * It's been a year, since Jamie and I were snipped. Mr. Freedman was right. Already, we eunuchs outnumber the intact boys. Hardly a week goes by that two or three boys aren't snipped. A eunuch was even elected class president. The intact boys -- each knowing he might be next -- no longer harass the eunuchs. That's no longer tolerated. A boy can be snipped for that alone. Some boys have even asked to be snipped. I wouldn't be surprised to see a eunuch in the White House someday. We call ourselves eunuchs. I have a t-shirt that says, I'm a eunuch and proud of it. If anyone calls me a boy, I correct him. "I'm not a boy. I'm a eunuch." Mr. Freedman was right about that, too. We've no longer boys. I haven't jacked off for six months. I climaxed then, but it took a long time, and I didn't ejaculate. I just felt tingly all over. I guess it was a climax -- not like any I had when I had balls -- but it was something. I looked down at my dick. Even though I was thinking about masturbating, it didn't stir. I don't even try to jack off anymore. It's just not me, any longer. That's something I did when I had balls, not something I care about any longer. That's how I know I'm no longer a boy. BOYS my age only think about sex, jacking off or fucking. I'm lucky that I don't. Funny, it's hard to remember why I was so preoccupied with sex. What a waste. There's so much to life besides sex. Funny thing is: I could have fucked Rachael, even though I'd been snipped. So many boys have been snipped that girls are turning to eunuchs for sex. Some girls even prefer eunuchs. We're safe. We can't get girls pregnant. Rachael let me know that I could fuck her, but by that time, I was no longer interested. Her tits no longer turned me on, and the thought of sticking my dick in her snatch -- well frankly -- the thought repulsed me. She probably thinks I'm queer for Jamie. I'm not. I love him, but sex has nothing to do with our relationship. Jamie and I are soul mates. Neither of us is interested in sex. If I kiss or hug him, it's to show him affection, not to to satisfy any sexual urge. We don't have any of those -- neither of us do. An obsession -- that's what sex is. When you have balls, you're controlled by the testosterone they produce. I didn't discover the real me, until the testosterone was flushed from my body. I like me, the eunuch, much better than the boy I was. I didn't think I'd ever say it, but I'm glad I was snipped. I tell boys -- boys that have balls. "Get snipped. "It's great. You'll like it. It's rough at first, but once you're a true eunuch, you'll love it. Just think -- you won't have to jack off all the time, and you won't care whether some girl likes you, or not." Some boys feel guilty about jacking off. That especially works on them. I've talked more than one boy into getting snipped. I'm glad I was snipped. The friends I have now are better friends than any I ever had when I had balls. When we leave home, Jamie and I will probably move in together. My mom and I get along much better, too, and I never get in trouble at school. I even made the honor roll last semester. Certainly, there's some adjustments I've had to make. I'm not strong, and I tire easily, but I don't like sports anymore, so that's not important. Neither do most of my friends like sports. We're content to leave sports to the intact boys. Yeah, I've grown tits -- not much, just a handful. It's not like I have to wear a bra. Some eunuchs have transitioned. A few, having gone all the way, have vaginas where they used to have cock and balls. Others have had their cocks and ball sacks cut off, but don't have vaginas. Some retain their cocks, but take feminizing hormones, so otherwise, they look like girls. I don't want to be a girl. I'm happy being just what I am -- a eunuch. My dick has shrunk. I doubt it's more than a couple of inches long, but that's OK. It hasn't been erect since I masturbated six months ago -- six months without a hard-on. When I had balls, I had one most of the time. When I had balls, I wished my cock were bigger. No longer. I can pee standing up with it. It's long enough for that. That's all I care about. God -- I like being a eunuch. Everyone was right. It was for the best. |