The Chair

I love my job. I looked at my watch and feel that familiar tingle, the feeling I always get before I unman them. I don’t know...to me it’s not really cruel. Sure, it’s painful, and they don’t like it but I have no sympathy for any of them. They deserve the punishment. I didn’t do the crime, and I didn’t convict them. They have always received their sentence after a fair trial, so when they come here, to Fentwood, I really am just doing my job.

I am the warden of the largest penal institution in the country, and it is my job to supervise all of the emasculations. It’s the part of the job I enjoy the most, and I personally get involved and make sure it’s done right. So far I’ve castrated more than fifty. We do about a half a dozen “totals” a year. Doesn’t matter to me. They are just things to take, and so I take them. Of course, to the man who owns them, who carries them between his legs and who has used them to commit his crimes of passion, they are a lot more than just “things.” Oh well, too bad I say.

I look to the prisoner and I can see him, scared, but nevertheless glaring at me defiantly. They are always so tough before we fry them, and I suppose if it was me I would be doing the same. This man raped two young girls, and the judge had no mercy. Total emasculation. It’s a tough sentence, and yet, with the yearly count around one every other month now I guess it’s not that unusual anymore. Doesn’t really bother me. Hell, he did the crime. So, I will take his balls and his cock and leave him with nothing between his legs. In some perverse way I think, I will even enjoy it. I always do.

He’s going to be a fighter. I know that, just from the way he fought over his pubes. You can always tell. It took five guards last night to shave him, and he fought the entire time. Right now he’s wearing the orange jumpsuit, so I can’t see any of it. But I know, and so does he. He’s bald now between his legs, his smooth balls hanging down and just waiting for me to do them. His hidden pole is in there too, sitting above his bald mound that is now as smooth as the day he was born.

I like it when we take their pubes. They struggle so, but in the end they feel the razor non-the-less, and as their hair is stolen away they come to realize they are doomed. We use the electric clippers to take the bush, and follow it up with the blade. When we are done his skin is baby smooth, and ready for the electrical connections. If you can take a man’s sex hair against his will, then you can take his balls and his cock just as easily. They know it too. Prior to their shaving they sometimes have some false idea that perhaps, if they fight hard enough and long enough that they will be able to stop it from happening.

These men are used to being in control, to getting what they want when they want, and so when you take their pubes they always fight like hell. After that, they are scared, because they know that we really will take their balls and their cocks and they will not be able to prevent it.

I stare back at the prisoner and glance at my watch again. It’s almost time to take him to the chamber. The witnesses have been gathering in the observation room, and that seems to have gone smoothly. The press is there, and the usual group of protestors has gathered out on the lawn. Sometimes it’s like a circus. You wouldn’t think anyone would want to watch a guy’s genitals be electrocuted, but they always come and the room is always full. It’s OK by me. Perhaps if it was my daughter he’d fucked I’d want to watch his balls cooking too.

I talk to him then. “Rosco, it’s time. We are going to take you to the room now, and I hope you will go easily. If you fight it will make it harder, and in the end it won’t make any difference. Let’s get it done, OK?”

“FUCK YOU WARDEN!” he says.

I hear noises, and turn, and the guards are here right on time. Rosco stands up, and he’s a big man. In his late twenties he has fucked women from one side of the country to the other, and has been taking them and squirting his load into them since he was a young teenager. Now, all that’s going to change, and personally, I am glad.

The fight begins....as soon as the cell door is opened he is swinging his fists. They jump him then....the five guards pushing him down with a crash. They use the big cable ties to secure him, and because he’s such a strong man they have to find his ankles, wrist, and elbows and secure each of them to each other. It takes a while, but it’s five against one and the outcome of the fight was determined before it got started. Then they pick him up, and drag the prisoner out of his cell, screaming the entire time as he struggles against them. I follow, to monitor everything and to make sure that there are no mistakes.

At the end of the cell block sometimes referred to as “Eunuch Row” we reach the door that leads to the hall that in turn leads to the room that holds the chair. As the door opens he goes ballistic, jerking his body and trying desperately to fold himself in half to keep from being pulled through it. I look at my watch, and we are ahead of schedule. Experience has taught me a lot, and the prisoner’s futile struggles, while expected, are not causing any undue problems.

Finally, they pull him into the room, and when he sees the chair he screams.

“No...OH NO! NO! NOOOO I SAY....OH FUCK...FUCK YOU...OH GOD...PLEASE DON’T!”

It doesn’t matter. They pull him to it, and then I hear the zipper coming down from the orange jumpsuit he’s been wearing. I don’t know, but it seems the jumpsuits always get ripped off then....it would be nice if we could just take them naked but the courts would never approve it. So, as I hear it being shredded I know it’s just one of those things. Still, it surprises Rosco, and before he knows what his happening he’s naked, buck-naked and his bald balls and smooth mound are visible to everyone. His cock has shrunken to a mere knob from his fear, just a little nub above his big sac.

After they take his clothes, things happen fast. They literally shove him naked into the chair, and he is screaming as the cable ties are cut and the wrist restraints are secured. Then his ankles are next, and they are difficult because he keeps trying to straighten his legs and kick his feet. Next they tie the important two bands around each knee, and then the strap over his chest to hold him still. His nipples are fat, and round, and he has a little belly on him. He used to have a flat stomach but the prison life has made him soft. It doesn’t matter. His prime days with a hot body are behind him. He will be getting fatter still, as soon as he loses his balls. I feel nothing towards him. He’s a rapist, and I am glad he is fighting it. I watch. He is struggling...twisting in the chair, the realization that he is really IN THE CHAIR now, naked, the curtained window the only thing between him and the witnesses.

The muscles of his big thighs are straining, trying to close his legs and to protect his assets. The bands on his knees are tight, and in spite of his struggles they are keeping his legs apart, spreading his legs wide and open. His genitals are totally exposed now, and open, and oh-so-reachable. The heart monitor is attached to his chest and in the adjacent room the med tech gives me a thumbs up—the prisoner’s pump is racing and the medtech has it on the monitor. He will watch his condition as the prisoner is emasculated, and while I’ve never heard of him being needed there is always a possibility it could go badly. The prisoner looks so desperate now. It’s almost funny, almost....his fat balls swinging between his legs and as I look at them I think how they really have been the source of his problem. Well, we will take care of it, and more.

The prisoner’s little cock has already started to grow. When his jumpsuit first came down it wasn’t much more than a little nub, shrunk between his legs and just a knob above his big balls. But that’s changing now. It is amazing, how the very idea that his cock is soon to be the center of attention is enough to get it growing so it can happen. He looks down, at is bald crotch, and I can sense the fear as he realizes his cock is growing ever eager and in doing so helping us to unman him.

One of the assistants, called the “sacman” takes the ball clamp, a circular metal ring that is built much like a hose clamp. He tugs downward on the prisoner’s scrotum, pulling the balls downward into their sac. They do not come easily, but they come, and as the technician stretches out the muscles he slips the clamp around the top of the man’s big, fat sac.

Slowly, he tightens the clamp, until it shrinks and the circular loop grows ever smaller. Soon, it constricts the top of the prisoner’s ball sac and pushes the doomed testicles downward. The prisoner’s scrotum is stretched, his big balls isolated below, big and bulging and the skin so tight it makes his scrotum look like a sac full of plums ripe for the taking.

Rosco doesn’t like it at all. As he stares at his bulging balls and the metal band that encircles above them, trapping them, he is mad with fear and his struggles rock the chair. I can’t help but smile. He knows they are gone, knows I am going to fry them, and as he realizes it and the moment for the switch nears his desperation increases exponentially.

Next, the assistant known as the “cockman” prepares the prisoner’s penis. The cockman today is just nineteen, and he’s a hot kid. I like him, and he works hard. He’s young, but he does the job right, and I always love the reaction when the prisoner sees some young kid being the one to take his dick. I watch the boy working, and he’s biting his tongue as he concentrates on his task. This is always my favorite part and I lick my lips as I watch. As he takes in the prisoner’s partially erect organ, into his hand, he coats the man’s thick pole with the electrolyte solution. It is slippery as it goes on, and the boy slides it over the shaft and works it into the skin of the criminal’s cock.

The prisoner jerks and struggles, the feeling intense as he watches the teenager work his cock up and down within the boy’s fist. I always enjoy this part...where the prisoner’s cock begins to grow harder and harder against his will and in doing so it literally makes its own unmanning possible. You would think his cock would shrink and run, but it doesn’t. Instead, almost as if it’s eager for it to happen, it thickens and lengthens even as the prisoner wills it not too.

Soon, the man’s big cock is stiff and hard and eager, jutting up from between his legs. It’s a thick, proud cock, and it almost looks like a tree root as it juts up from his hairless crotch. I notice that his big purple head actually has a bead of liquid anointing the tip. That will help and make it easier. I wonder how many women this cock has had. More than a few I bet. Perhaps that explains why the man who still owns it seems so desperate to keep it. He bounces within the chair and his hips pump against his restraints as he tests his bonds and struggles like a madman.

The young cockman smiles as he gets the prisoner’s erection right where he wants it to be. Then, he reaches down into his satchel and pulls out the main tool of his trade. It’s called a “contact rod” and when you first see it you know it is something to fear. As soon as the prisoner sees it he goes crazy, screaming as he watches, the sudden realization that the rod is meant for him.

The piece of polished copper is six inches long, and its hollow. It’s about half the diameter of a pencil, and the one end is rounded to ease the penetration. The cockman takes the rod, and lubricates it with the KY jelly, and then, taking the prisoner’s stiff penis in his hand he maneuvers the metal rod up against the oozing piss slit.

Rosco is watching, and he starts to scream as he feels the copper against the tiny opening of his dick. He can’t believe it of course. His dick is for fucking, not for being fucked, and it’s a virgin slit that now is feeling the metal. As the teenage cockman pushes on the rod, the tiny lips of Rosco’s cock slide out of the way, and the pole slowly, ever-so-slowly, begins to disappear inside. It’s painful, but not THAT painful, and as it enters the virgin cockhole you can see the effect on the prisoner is total.

He’s almost crazy with the feeling, watching the metal rod slide into the heart of his manhood, penetrating his cock for the first time like he once penetrated his first pussy. He screams again, mad with desperation. Of course, he is powerless to stop it, and yet in his desperation he tries non-the-less, jerking within his bonds and throwing his head back from the feeling.

As the rod almost disappears inside, the teenager holding it is smiling, and I can tell he enjoys his work. Then, as I watch, the cockman pulls the metal rod upward, outward, oh-so-slowly. Then, he pushes it back in...then in and out and in and out...rotating it as he does so. In a way he’s literally fucking the prisoner’s cock, in and out, fucking the cock’s virgin hole. It’s a rod fuck, and it’s intense, painful, and humiliating, but it is done for a purpose. By moving the rod the man’s balls begin to produce more seminal fluid, which in turn helps insure the internal metal to skin connection. Of course, for the prisoner, it’s just a fuck he cant’ believe and yet right on schedule his cock begins to ooze from the intensity of it.

After several minutes the tip is glistening and when the teenage cockman sees that, then he leaves the rod where he wants it. About an inch of the hollow copper rod is visible, sticking out of the big rounded purple cockhead. More fluid oozes out of the hollow rod, and as it does it literally beads up on the tiny hole in the metal, then seeps along the copper and wets the head of the man’s last erection.

.Next, the cockman takes two circular clamps. They look much like hose clamps, and they can be tightened by turning a screw. The boy slips the first one directly behind the corona of the big man’s fat cock, in the little indentation that lies there. Luckily, the man’s cock is circumcised, which makes the job easier. Next, the cockman takes the second clamp and encircles it around the base of the prisoner’s penis. There he tightens the clamp, until it too grips the man’s erection and almost pinches the skin. The two metal clamps grip the man’s shaft tightly, and the metal to skin connection is tight and perfect.

The time is going well. In five minutes we are due to throw the switch, and we are slightly ahead of schedule as we make the final hookups. I check the rod and the clamps, and then give the nod. The electrician comes in next, and he reaches underneath the chair and pulls out the four wires which will carry the current that will do the job. They are thick wires, and made to carry the emasculation current, providing a path for the electricity that will consume the man’s genitals.

The electrician screws the first wire directly onto the end of the copper rod that has been inserted down the cock of the prisoner. As Rosco’s prick continues to ooze pre-cum, the inside of his dick is coated with his fluids which coats the metal rod inside and forms the perfect conduit. In a way, the man’s dick is oozing the very liquids that will insure the perfect connection which in turn will ultimately lead’s to the cock’s own demise. I smile at that thought. The prisoner’s own sexuality is helping to destroy itself.

The electrician attaches the second big wire to the two clamps that grip the outside of the shaft of the prisoner’s cock. The wire has two ends, one for each of the clamps. The current will surge between the outside of the cock and the rod inside, and the resistances of the flesh between the two wires and the rod will cause the prisoners cock to heat up almost as soon as the current starts flowing. At first it will be a tingle, but the feeling will intensify and then the flesh will start cooking and after that the dick will be destroyed.

The electrician rechecks the connections. They are all screwed on, to make extra sure they don’t come off even if the prisoner jerks and struggles. The man then takes the third wire, and connects it to the top of the man’s scrotum, where the round metal clamp is tight and pinching. The clamp has a place made for the wire. As the electrician screws in the connection to the clamp I can see that he has to pull down on the clamp, stretching the balls and making sure that the band is tight.

He frowns and I can tell there is a problem. Shit! I glance at my watch as I wait and the electrician is forced to make some adjustments. I see him fist loosen the clamp, and then he takes some of the electrolyte solution and squirts it under the clamp. He cups the man’s smooth balls in his hand, working in the solution. Then, he pulls downward again on the big sac, stretching out the testicles and pulling on the cords inside. Rosco grunts from the pressure. Before I start to get too nervous the electrician finishes, and as I watch him he retightens the clamp that again captures the twin testicles. The top of the scrotum is closed almost off this time, the band so tight that the connection is assured. Rosco doesn’t like it, and he’s screaming his protests. I don’t care. The time is OK, and I breathe again.

The electrician is a professional. He next picks up his screw driver and then he tightens the scrotum clamp some more, pinching the top of the ball sac even tighter and improving the important connection. It has an immediate effect. The prisoner’s big balls grow red, flushed, as the blood is restricted. The balls are literally bulging from the pressure and the skin of his scrotum is now stretched so tight that I can clearly see the twin orbs of his two huge testicles.

Finally, the electrician picks up the fourth and final wire which is attached to a special castration clip. The clip has jagged teeth and it’s made to grab and hold the flesh. It doesn’t open easily because the clamp has a powerful spring. Taking some more of the slippery electrolyte, the electrician works it into the man’s bald scrotum. Then, he picks up the final wire that is soldiered to the big jagged clamp, and he pinches the clamp’s sides which opens the jaws. He next stretches out the prisoner’s scrotum, pulling down, until he can get the clip right where he needs it to go. With a snap, he releases the jaws and the big clip slams shut, pinching the skin on the bottom of the prisoner’s bulging sac, directly under the two orbs that are hanging loose and fat, literally biting into his skin. The clamp is pinching about an inch into the sac, and it grips the space between the two testicles, separating his balls that are clearly visible.

The prisoner grunts as he feels the clamp bite into his manhood, and then he’s jerking in the chair and fighting anew to somehow, someway stop the inevitable. With the last two wires in place, there is a second current path, this one from the metal band at the top of the scrotum to the metal clip at the bottom. Between the two the only path for the electricity to follow is the path through the balls themselves. Fully loaded with cream and blood, they will form a path of least resistance, that will affectively doom them. At 100 amps and 400 volts, they don’t stand a chance and will, in essence, pop like two circuit breakers once the full current is applied.

Three minutes to go. Perfect. I check the connections, and then the technicians leave. Only one stays, to help me with the final moment. It is just me, and the prisoner, and the one technician, standing in the little room where we will take his manhood. His eyes are wide, and he has stopped yelling. He is scared, scared to the core, and now he sits quietly, feeling his balls trussed up and waiting, his cock rock hard and stiff and jutting, the shiny copper rod stuffed inside like his cock is a turkey about to be roasted. Rosco is staring at his package, looking at his big cock and the metal rod that is glistening with his fluid. I wonder what he’s thinking as the time nears.

At two and a half minutes to go I press a button by the window, and the curtains motor open. The big picture window is exposed, and it’s obvious that the observation room is packed, as it usually is during an emasculation. You can’t hear the crowd in here, but they can hear what is said in the chamber. There is a lot of smiling going on, and I notice a couple of younger girls in the front row. They must be two of his victims, and I notice that the prisoner recognizes them. They seem happy, anxious even, to watch this man lose it all. The contrast couldn’t be greater. The audience is excited, almost euphoric, while the prisoner is afraid and shaking and struggling. Everyone is waiting, waiting for the same thing. Most wait with an eagerness, and one waits with a well-deserved dread.

When the curtain opens Rosco looks up, and his face flushes crimson with his embarrassment. It is like everyone is laughing at him, at his big boner and his bright red balls. The very essence of everything that makes him a man is wired for destruction.

A small light goes on, and I glance at my watch again. The sound is on, and the microphone is now live. I begin to read.

“Rosco Fitsjerald, you have been found guilty of multiple rapes by a jury of your peers, and by the laws of this state you have been sentenced to have your sexual organs electrocuted until they are dead. May God have mercy on your genitals.”

I then say the last required line: “Does the prisoner have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?”

I’m always nervous now. Two minutes....and it can go long if the prisoner rambles. Experience tells me he won’t talk that long, but you never know and so I wait and listen. Rosco starts to speak...but his lips are babbling and I can’t understand him. He’s pleading then...begging I think, almost like a little boy begs before he is spanked. It’s wasted, and the crowd in the witness gallery wants none of it. They are smiling as he begs, laughing as they look at his pole and his balls, all wired up and ready for their unmanning. His cock is dripping, and the entire end is wet with his slime. Finally, his voice trails off to a whisper, and he looks around and then he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he looks out the window, at the crowd looking in, and then he mumbles “I’m...I’m sorry.” It was only a whisper, but for the ones in the room that heard it, it will give them what they came for.

With a nod, I look to the technician and he moves to the prisoner. He slides the mouthpiece into Rosco’s mouth. It s a rubber piece, designed to keep the prisoner from biting his tongue as the electricity surges through his genitals. The mouthpiece has a leather strap attached to its front, and it runs behind the neck and is buckled in place. It takes twenty seconds, and then it is done. I glance to the phone in the room. It hasn’t rung, and I don’t expect it too. I look at my watch, and there is exactly thirty-five seconds to go before it is noon. I wait, and time stands still. Rosco can’t stand it...he’s jerking again, shaking in the chair, crazy with fear as the moment nears. His eyes are wide with panic.

I step to the side, and the technician moves away as well. We are all staring at the prisoner. His cock is rock hard, jutting straight up, an inch of the metal rod sticking out of his prick like an obscene inner dildo, still fucking his meat and waiting to carry the electricity inside. His prick twitches, and the end of his dick bounces slightly to his heartbeat. His balls are fat and round, drawn up tight and the little top of his scrotum all necked down, shiny with the clamp that will be their destruction.

Ten seconds.

Five.

Right before it happens, Rosco looks down at his dick, and he’s staring at it as the time clicks to zero.

I tighten my right hand into a fist, the hidden signal, and as I do there is a snap sound and Rosco screams into his gag. His body jumps, and his cock comes to life even as he stares at it. The initial surge of current is less than it will be, and as it pulsates into his genitals the prisoner jerks in the chair. His cock pulsates, and then a huge wad of white cream shoots out of his shaft, right up the hollow little rod and then it comes out with a vengeance. The first wad hits Rosco square in his face, followed by another and another and another. The man’s wad is huge, and thick, and while we all watch the white cream in his nuts just explodes out of his shaft. His hips buck the chair, and his eyes go wide. At the same time I can see he’s screaming into his gag, clamping down on the mouthpiece almost as if he’s trying to bite it in half.

Still he ejaculates continuously, without enjoyment. On and on he squirts out his final load of jism. It flys out under pressure, his huge cock just squirts out his goo in huge pulsations, almost as if it’s a fountain spewing its final load.

There is no mercy from the electrical demons that travel the wires. I know from the protocol that the current is increasing. His balls are bright, lobster red, and bulging, and the testicles within his sac seem to get bigger as we watch. You can actually see the two orbs moving, as they dance within the sac and the electricity shoots inside them. His cock too is growing ever thicker, the skin seeming to stretch and then stretch some more. Still, the white ropes of cum are shooting out, only as they continue to do so they are now hot to the touch, and he jerks as his own cream begins to burn his belly where it lands.

His scrotum is the size of a baseball, and then a softball. His white cream begins to turn pink, blood mixing with his semen. The orbs bulge, and suddenly the sac splits just as the prisoner suddenly stops shooting his wad. It’s sizzling, and the smell of burning flesh penetrates the room. Rosco jerks harder, thrust his hips against the restraints, his face an expression of horror as he watches and feels his genitals begin to bubble. His cock suddenly, literally, pops, almost like a sausage being cooked on the grill. It splits, and the essence of his tube opens up and we are looking at the inside of his cock then. Then, the big purple end blackens and suddenly, it literally explodes. His cock is shorter now, and as we all watch it turns darker still as it pops and sizzles.

Suddenly, I see his two balls literally pop as well, and Rosco grunts loudly into his gag. The electrical current was just too much for them and in that instant he is castrated. There is a flash of light at the top of his ball sac, and the skin burns through and then the balls, or what’s left of them, drop off and hit the floor beneath his wooden seat. Castrated, he bucks his ball-less hips and his eyes are wide with the realization of what is happening. His cock continues to cook, the entire current now surging through what’s left of his shaft. It sizzles, chars, and then, slowly, his once proud erection starts to fall forward. His dick chars black, and like a burned sausage it falls horizontal and then just separates from his body at its base. As it does so it hits the chair, continuing to sizzle as the electricity shoots into the rod still inside.

Rosco’s head goes back, and he screams into his gag. There is nothing left where his proud genitals were. Instead, it’s all smooth, with only a bit of cauterized flesh remaining where his sex was. I nod, and the electricity is shut off. Rosco looks down, down and his emptiness, and then he just collapses, like the wind leaves the sail. He sits motionless then, nullified; a cock-less ball-less eunuch forevermore.

I press the button on the curtains, and they begin to close. As they do, I can see the people in the room, and they are applauding, the look of immense satisfaction on their faces as they have watched Rosco’s destruction. One man flashes a huge grin, and he gives me a “thumbs up.” I cannot help but smile back at him.

I relax. It has gone well, and the emasculation is complete. I give the nod, and the technicians reenter the room and begin to undo the straps that held the prisoner in the chair. There is no fight left in him. There never is. The technicians remove the gag, and help him up. He can still walk, and with help the prisoner shuffles to the gurney that is in the next room. I watch as they take him down the hall, to where the ambulance will take him to the hospital and where the doctors will work on him. Of course, they won’t do much, but they will insure he has a path for his urine and they will monitor him for infection. Other than that, there isn’t much else they can do.

My last view of the room is to the chair. The charred remains of Rosco’s scrotum is still on the floor. His blackened, split cock has been knocked to the floor when the prisoner stood up, and it now lies beside the remains of his balls. It almost looks like a piece of sausage that was overcooked on the grill. In a way it was; cooked right off of him. The metal rod still protrudes out the end and the wire is still attached there. I notice there is a lot more of the rod showing now, and the very end, the end that used to be purple and big and flared is just missing, and what is left doesn’t really look like a penis anymore. I wonder where it went? It’s gone, missing, vaporized into smoke. I take one more whiff from the room, inhaling deeply as I breathe in the atoms that were once a cock. Yeah, I love my job.

[Authors note: © Copyright July, 2002. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. All comments are appreciated, more than you can know. [email protected]]