Down on the Farm

Chapter 1: His first day on his uncle's

farm

Lying in bed in his room, his first day on his uncle's farm, Iggy heard his aunt and uncle arguing. "What business did you have taking the boy?" he heard his Aunt Maude say. "You know he was conceived in sin. He's the reason your sister ran off and got married. She was already pregnant with him. Why, you, yourself, blamed your sister for your maw's death. She broke the poor woman's heart when she turned her back on the lord and got pregnant. Now, you bring this demon spawn into our house. What about our daughter. Do you want him to get her pregnant?"

"He's her cousin," Uncle Adam answered.

"That don't mean nothing," said Aunt Maude. "What makes you think that will stop him?"

"I don't know that he's even old enough," said Uncle Adam.

"He's twelve. He's old enough," said Maude. "He's already growing fuzz on his lip. He's old enough, that's for sure."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Adam.

"Get rid of him," said Maude. Neither of them seemed to be making any effort to keep Iggy from hearing them.

"I can't," said Adam, "I might not want him anymore than you do, but he's kin, and with his mother and father dead, he ain't got no other. It's my obligation to take him -- my duty."

"Your duty," said Maude, "always your duty. What about your duty to me, to Alma? Isn't your first duty to protect your own daughter?"

"We don't know he's going to mess with Alma."

"He's a city boy," said Maude. "City boys begin fornicating at a young age. He ain't even a Christian. I asked him. He ain't never been to church. When I asked him if he'd taken Jesus as his personal savior, he said his parents didn't believe in Jesus. I tell you, I don't want him around Alma."

Iggy had met Alma, his thirteen year-old cousin, for the first time that day, when Uncle Adam had brought him home from the airport. A social worker had delivered him to his uncle, who had been given custody of him, after his parents had been killed. Today was also the first time he'd met Uncle Adam or Aunt Maude. His mother hadn't spoken to her brother since before Iggy was born.

"I gave my word that I'd care for him," Adam said. "I can't go back on my word."

"Then fix him," said Maude.

"You want me to fix him -- fix a boy?"

"You'd fix a calf or a dog you didn't want to breed," said Maude. "How's he any different?"

Listening, Iggy knotted his brow. Fix him? What did his aunt mean by that? Oh, he knew what it meant to fix a dog. He'd gone with his dad when they'd taken theirs to the vet to be neutered. The dog had come home without any balls. You didn't fix kids, though, not in that way. His aunt must mean something else. But, then, he had trouble understanding much of what they said. They talked funny, his aunt especially. He hadn't yet heard Alma say much other than "yes'um" and "no mam" to her mother. And Uncle Adam seldom said anything; he'd said nothing to Iggy during the drive from the airport.

"I don't know," said Uncle Adam, "I'll have to think on it. We don't know for sure he's growed up enough to be a worry yet, no how."

"Then, let's go have a look right now," said Maude.

"You go have a look," said Adam.

"All right; I will," said Maude.

Hearing her footsteps coming down the hall, Iggy threw his arm across his face, hiding his eyes in the crook of his elbow, pretending to be asleep. In a moment, his door opened and the light came on. Still pretending to be asleep, he felt his covers pulled back. Without saying anything to him, his aunt pulled down the boxer shorts he slept in, then was out the door, the light turned back off, before he could react. Iggy looked down to see his boxers pulled halfway to his knees, exposing his penis, his erect penis, its usual condition these days. It seemed as though it was always hard. He felt his face burn. Even his mother had never seen him with an erection.

"He's old enough," he heard his aunt say from the other room. "He's already grown hair and more. His thing is growed; and it was hard. You need to fix him."

"I don't know," said Uncle Adam. "I don't know about fixing no boy. Just keep them apart. Don't let him have no truck with Alma."

"They live in the same house," said Maude. "Alma's room's just down the hall. How am I going to keep him away from her?"

"I'll put a lock on his door," said Adam. "We'll lock him in each night."

"I still think you should fix him," said Maude.

"We'll try it my way first," said Adam. "That's my last word on it. I'm going to keep him busy during the day with chores; and we'll lock him in at night. There shouldn't be no problem."

"And, if there is?"

"Then," said Adam, "we'll do it your way."

Chapter 2: It was Alma in her nightgown

Uncle Adam was true to his word. He kept Iggy busy doing chores, starting before dawn and lasting until supper time, the only time he even saw Alma. She wasn't up to eat breakfast when he did; and they ate lunch out in the field where they worked. After supper, he was locked in his room, which was just as well. Uncle Adam didn't so much as have a TV. He certainly didn't have a computer. Besides, after a hard day's work, Iggy was ready for bed after supper.

They locked him in each night. Uncle Adam had installed a deadbolt lock on his door; it locked from the hallway; and he'd nailed boards across Iggy's window to keep him from exiting that way. If he had to pee during the night, he had to use the chamber pot Aunt Maude placed in his room each night.

Iggy had been at the farm for a month when he awoke one night to the sound of the lock on his door being turned. It made a loud, clicking, sound. He kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, but peeked out through narrow slits shaded by his eyelashes, when he felt the covers pulled back. It wasn't Uncle Adam or Aunt Maude. It was Alma, in her nightgown.

Keeping his eyes closed, continuing his pretense of being asleep, Iggy, feeling a tug on his boxers, felt them pulled down below his knees. This time, he didn't have an erection -- he'd been working so hard -- but he felt one coming on. Still, he pretended to be asleep, watching, his vision blurred by his eyelashes. His penis was becoming hard. He could feel it growing, feel it becoming stiff, feel it throb as blood flowed into it. What would Alma do when she saw it? Would she call her mother?

Alma paid no attention to his penis, though. Iggy could see she had something in her hand -- a big rubber band. Doubling it, she pulled his balls through it, making a loop out of the slack in the band, pulling it over his balls again. Tight around the top of his ball sac, the rubber band hurt; yet, still, Iggy pretended to be asleep; and Alma gave no indication that she thought he was awake. She held his balls in her hand, testing the band to make certain it was tight, then walked out the door, closing and locking it behind her. Only then, did, Iggy open his eyes.

Raising his head, he examined Alma's handiwork. The rubber band she'd placed there was tight around the top of his ball sac. It hurt, but, too, it strangely excited Iggy. His penis throbbed. The band hurting, he reached down to pull it off. As he was unwrapping it from his balls, he felt a strange pressure in his groin. Then, his penis pulsating, a white cream began spurting -- streaming -- from his dick, the first spurt landing in his navel, but the next, shooting farther, striking him on the chest. Another and another; how many, Iggy didn't know; he wasn't counting. He had just ejaculated for the first time.

He'd heard other boys talk about jacking off, but he'd never tried it. But, now, he knew why they talked about it. With the band still on his balls, he began pulling on his dick, soon spurting again onto his stomach. At last, Iggy had found something to do on the farm that was fun -- that felt good -- jacking off.

His balls hurting now, he took off the rubber band. That was another thing that had been fun: having Alma put it on his balls. That's what had aroused him in the first place. Who knows how long he would have gone without ejaculating, otherwise.

Chapter 3: It was as if it had never

happened

When Iggy saw Alma at supper the next night, she didn't look at him, talk to him, or in any way, acknowledge what had happened the night before. It was as if it had never happened. But that night, Iggy didn't fall asleep as he usually did. He lay awake until the Uncle Adam and Aunt Maude had gone to bed, and the house was quiet. In a little while, he heard the bolt holding his door locked withdrawn. Again, it was Alma. Again, he pretended to be asleep. His dick was awake though. It was definitely awake, hard and throbbing.

Alma pulled back his covers, pulled down his shorts, and began wrapping a rubber band around his balls once again. This time he spurted while she did it, spunk streaming onto his stomach as Alma -- ignoring his squirting cock -- wrapped the band around his balls. Again, even though he ejaculated, he pretended to be asleep; and Alma let him maintain that pretense. Iggy was certain she knew he was awake; how could she not know? She had even lifted his butt up to pull down his shorts; and what boy could sleep through having his balls banded and ejaculating onto his stomach? She knew he was awake; and she knew that he knew that she knew. Still, neither of them said anything. She banded his balls while he ejaculated onto his stomach -- ignoring that entirely -- then left the room, locking the door behind her, as before.

With the band still on his balls, Iggy masturbated, the picture of Alma bent over, wrapping the band around his balls, in his mind. More spunk joined the first on his stomach. He wiped it off with the sheet, then fell asleep. That night, he dreamt Alma came back into his room and banded him again, but when he awoke, no band was around his balls.

Alma didn't come into his room every night, not on Saturday or Sunday night, certainly, because -- even on the farm -- they didn't work on Sunday, and sometimes her father or mother would stay up late -- for them, anyway. And, too, they didn't lock Iggy in his room until 9:00 PM on Saturday night, since he didn't have to get up as early the next day. They had to go to church, but didn't have to leave the house until almost 8:00 AM to get there on time. That was late compared to 5:00 AM, when Iggy had to get up on other days.

Iggy had jacked off once or twice on the days Alma hadn't come into his room, but it wasn't the same without having her first put a rubber band around his balls. He kept the bands -- fifteen of them now -- in a drawer beside his bed; Although he could have put one on his balls, himself, he never had. It was as if he and Alma had a contract. Only she could band his balls. Contract though it might be, it was an unspoken one. Every night when she came into his room, banding his balls -- even though he ejaculated each time -- he pretended to be asleep; and, complicit in their mutual deception, she let him pretend.

She never talked to him, not at night when she came into his room or during the day. No one -- other than to give him instructions -- really talked to Iggy. He missed his parents. He missed being loved. No one here loved him. They fed him and gave him a place to sleep, but they didn't love him. He'd seen Uncle Adam give more affection to the livestock -- to his dog -- than he gave Iggy; and the only attention Alma paid him was at night when she came into his room to band him.

That was something, though. Iggy didn't want that to stop. He wished she'd come into his room every night, not two or three times a week. Should he say something to her when she came in? Should he let her know he was awake? A couple of times he started to say something, but he was afraid that if he did, she wouldn't come back again; and that was all he had: Alma coming into his room to band his balls. It might not be love; but it was something.

Two months into his stay at the farm, Alma spoke to him for the first time, one night in his room. She had banded his balls; he had ejaculated onto his stomach; but this time -- before she left -- she leaned over, her mouth next to his ear and whispered, "Papa's going to fix you soon." Then she left, locking the door behind her.

 Chapter

4: When are you going to do it?

"When are you going to do it?" asked Maude. She and Adam sat at the dining room table; Alma was in the living room listening; Iggy was out in the barn cleaning out some stalls.

"I'll do it tomorrow," Adam said.

"It's past time," said Maude. "Like I told you, he's been spurting all over his sheets for almost since he's been here. Not only is it a sin for a boy to play with himself, it's too dangerous for him to live here in the same house as Alma as long as he has his balls. I'm afraid to turn my back on him for a minute. Besides, it should gentle him down some. If it works on horses; no reason it won't work on boys."

"You might be right," said Adam, "He can be ornery at times. I've had to take the strap to him more than once. I guess it is time."

"You'll be doing him a favor. Them's demon seed in his balls. Why else do you think God took his mother and father? You might be saving his soul by cutting them off. How are you going to do it?"

"I'll use the bander on him first, then cut them off," said Adam. That way, he shouldn't bleed too much."

"You oughta go on and do it tonight," said Maude.

"No," said Adam," the boy's been working hard all day. He needs to have a good night's sleep first. It's going to be hard enough on him as it is. I'll cut him in the bathroom, bandage him, and put him back to bed.

"Does it hurt?" asked Alma from the living room. "I know the calves sure squall when you do them."

"I reckon it will hurt," said Adam.

"It needs to be done, though," said Maude.

Adam shrugged, then nodded, "I reckon," he said.

Alma walked into the dining room, picking the bander up off the table where her father had placed it. "How do you work this," she asked. She had seen her father use it, but she'd never been this close to it before. He took it from her, and picking one of the bands up off the table, put it on the device; then spread the jaws, stretching the band. "Can I try?" asked Alma. He let her, showing her again, until she got it right.

Chapter 5: She smiled at him for the first time

Alma smiled at him for the first time when he came in from the barn. She had something in her hand, some kind of tool. "Take a bath tonight, boy," Uncle Adam said. It was a strange demand. Usually, Iggy only had to bathe on Saturdays, before Sunday church.

"But," said Iggy, "it's only Thursday.

"Do as I say, Boy."

"Yes, Sir," Iggy said, headed for his room to take off his clothes and grab a clean pair of boxers to put on after his bath. He knew better than to argue with Uncle Adam. He'd learned that the hard way, at the end of a thick leather strap. He had marks on his back and butt still from his last whipping; and that had been better than a week before.

In his room, he stripped, wrapped a towel around him, grabbed some shorts, and headed for the bathroom. Maybe a hot bath would feel good.

Later in bed, after the house was quiet, Iggy heard his door open. Looking through his eyelashes, pretending to be asleep as usual, he saw Alma come into his room. She was carrying something this time, a box full of something, not just a rubber band or two. Still, he kept his eyes shut, except for the narrow slit he peered through, still pretending to be asleep.

After setting the box on the floor, she pulled back the covers, this time completely off him. Next, she pulled down his boxers, those, too, completely off, pulling them off his feet and tossing them onto the floor. Still, he pretended to sleep.

She picked up the box, taking some rope out of it, tying it around one of his hands. Still, he pretended to sleep, continuing to pretended, even though she stretched out his arms and legs, tying each to one of the bed posts. What was she up to? Whatever it was, it excited Iggy. He was afraid he'd spurt before she applied a rubber band to his balls.

Then, she did something that astounded Iggy. She lifted her gown, exposing her panties, then pushed them down and off her feet, holding them up afterward. Iggy opened his eyes then, no longer pretending to be asleep, trying to see what the panties hid; but other than a glimpse of some hair, he didn't see much. It was dark in the room; and she took them off too quickly.

Alma smiled again, holding the panties over his face. "Open your mouth," she said. He did; and she stuck her panties into it, taping them in place with some duct tape from her box. Even if he had wanted to speak, he couldn't have. What was she up to?

Picking up a little green band out of the box, Alma held it up for him to see. "I'm going to use this instead of a rubber band," she said. "This is the real thing. The rubber bands were just pretend. Papa uses these to fix the calves. I'm going to use it on you."

The band was tiny. Iggy couldn't imagine how it would fit around his balls; and if it would, wouldn't it hurt? Wouldn't it hurt a lot? The rubber bands hurt, but this thing was tiny. How could she even expect to get his balls through it? Then; he found out. She fitted the band on the tool she had in the box, stretching it with the tool. His balls could easily fit through the opening in the band.

As soon as she released the band on his balls, Iggy came. It hurt like hell, but he came anyway. It embarrassed him to come, with her watching, with her knowing he was awake. It hadn't before. If it had happened in his sleep, he wasn't really responsible, was he? Wasn't that the game they'd played: as long as she banded his balls and he ejaculated onto his stomach, and he was asleep while it happened, then neither of them had to acknowledge that it had happened?

But, he was awake; she knew he was awake. He spurted onto his stomach while she watched, while, with eyes wide open, he watched her watch. Damn, his balls were really hurting now. Was she going to cut him loose now, or was she going to cut the band off, herself? Instead, she packed up her box and left the room, locking the door behind her.

His balls really hurt now. Iggy struggled, but she'd done a good job tying him. He tried yelling, but couldn't, not with her panties stuffed into his mouth, the duct tape over them. Needless to say, Iggy didn't sleep that night.

Chapter 6:  What the Sam Hill?

"What the Sam Hill?" Adam said, when he opened the door the next morning and saw Iggy tied up on the bed, his banded balls already black.

Pulling off the duct tape, he was about to ask Iggy who had done this to him, but he recognized the panties he pulled out of Iggy's mouth. "Alma," he yelled. All too soon for her to have still been in bed, she was at the door. "What did you do, Girl?"

"I just put the band on for you, Papa," she said. "You were going to do it today, anyway. Now, you won't have to. I've already done it for you."

Adam shook his head, then looked down at Iggy. The boy, pale, had soaked his bed with sweat and piss. "How are you, Boy? Do you hurt?"

Iggy took a couple of deep breaths before answering. "Not so much," a couple more deep breaths, "anymore. It hurt so much last night, though." He raised his head up. He didn't like what he saw, a black, swollen, scrotum. "Are they OK?" he asked.

"No," said Adam, "they have to come off. I don't suppose it'll hurt much now, though. They're dead, for sure. Can you stand up?"

"I don't know," said Iggy. "I don't think so."

"Come over here," he said to his daughter, "You can help me get him into the bathroom."

"But, he's all dirty, Papa," she said. "He peed himself, and he spurted all over his stomach."

"And you've earned yourself a whipping, Girl. What are your panties doing in his mouth? Did you let him touch you down there?"

Her mother, in the room by this time, grabbed Alma's shoulder, "Did you let him mess with you?" she asked.

"No, Momma," Alma said, "I used my panties because I just didn't have anything else small enough to put in his mouth. He never touched me."

"Did you play with his thing?" She saw the dried cum on Iggy's stomach.

"Of course not," said Alma, "He did that when I put the band on his balls. I never touched his thing. I wouldn't touch that nasty thing."

"Come on," Adam said to his wife, "Let's get him into the bathroom. Alma, go fill the tub for him. We're going to have to clean him up first."

"Aren't you going to take off the band?" Iggy asked.

"No," said Adam, "once I get you clean, I'm going to take off your balls. We'll leave the band on, even though I don't think you'd bleed too much now.

After the tub was full, they lowered Iggy into it. The water was hot; it felt good, relaxing after the ordeal of the night before, lying in bed, unable to move or speak, unbelievable pain emanating from his balls, groin, and abdomen. He'd wet the bed, something that he couldn't remember doing even when he was little; but he hadn't been able to help himself.

Reaching down between his legs, he touched his balls. He squeezed them -- lightly at first, then harder. He couldn't feel it. Oh, he could feel a tug, when he pulled on them, but he couldn't feel it when he squeezed them; and he should have. Any other time, had he squeezed them this hard, he would have been writhing on the floor. They were dead; they had to be; Alma had killed them this time.

"Wash good," Uncle Adam said. The knife he had in his hand had a curved blade. It looked sharp.

After Iggy was clean, Adam leaned over, grabbing Iggy's balls with one hand, pulling, stretching them, placing the knife blade below the band. Iggy watched, wondering if it would hurt. Uncle Adam was about to cut off his balls. He didn't want them cut off. But they were dead, weren't they? Alma had killed them.

Then -- it was over. Instead of hanging from his dick, Iggy's balls were in his uncle's hand. Some blood, mostly from the cut off balls, stained the water; some blood oozed from his crotch; but not much. It didn't hurt when he'd cut them off. It didn't hurt at all; but Iggy had paid his dues the night before. Then, it had hurt; it had really hurt.

Uncle Adam helped him to his feet, looking him over. "I think you're going to be all right, Boy. I might have to do some trimming after I take the band off in a day or so. It might hurt some, but I think you'll do fine. I have some antibiotic I use for the calves. I reckon it'll do you fine."

Chapter 7: They no longer kept his door locked

As Uncle Adam said, Iggy did heal nicely. They no longer kept his door locked at night. He was no longer a threat to Alma. Didn't they use eunuchs in harems because they were safe around women? That's what Iggy was now, a eunuch. One night at the dinner table, soon after Iggy's balls were cut off, Alma asked, "Is Iggy a steer, now?"

"No," Uncle Adam said, looking at Iggy, "he's a eunuch. That's what they call castrated boys."

"Like in the Bible," said Alma. She knew her Bible.

"Yes," said her mother, "like in the Bible." She was another one that knew the Bible.

Iggy jacked off at first, after his uncle cut off his balls, but soon lost interest in it. After a while, it just didn't seem to be worth the trouble. Besides, it wasn't nearly so much fun, now that he no longer had balls for Alma to band; and she never came into his room, anymore. She talked to him, though; even Aunt Maude talked to him. Now that he no longer had balls containing demon seed that might taint Alma, they treated him like part of the family.

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