People always say that if they won a fortune, then it wouldn't change them. Let me tell you that, as someone who has won more money than people dream about, it most certainly does change your life, not always in ways you think.

I won 20.35 Million UK pounds on the National Lottery, tax free. At the time, the pound was trading against the dollar at 2.09 dollars to the pound which meant I had 42.53 Million US Dollars. I know this because as soon as I had the cash, I changed it into dollars and transferred it to a bank in the US. Naturally, I followed the cash and took my time to tour the US very anonymously, hiring a medium priced hire car, staying in good, but not extravagant hotels. I wanted to find out where I preferred to live without people being influenced by the cash. No matter, the daily interest earned was a cool 11,650 dollars – enough to cover my modest expenses.

I ended up in LA, and bought a reasonably sized house and started to explore the many pleasures that the city had to offer.

I am interested in BDSM so I joined a few clubs and got into the scene, becoming known as Master Jim (the Limey). After a year or so I was well known and had become part of the local scene and had made friends with a variety of people, male and female slaves, and Masters and Mistresses, both amateur and professional.

I remember it was a Thursday night and I was in my favourite dungeon. I saw Nancy (it really is her name – her professional name is very well known) leading a naked male slave around on a collar and lead. I didn’t recognise him, but as Nancy made her living from BDSM, I guessed it was one of her clients. His hands were tied behind his back and a single sleeve pinned his shoulders back painfully. His cock and balls were fully shaved and trussed up using plastic string – it cut into the flesh and even in the dim light I could see his cock was engorged with blood and the entire package was deep purple. As Nancy was an extreme player, this didn’t faze me. I waved at her and she changed direction to talk to me. I got a closer look at his cock and balls and saw that she had plugged his urethra with a sound. His cock twitched in time to his heartbeat.

I greeted her by her professional name “Hi Mistress, is this worthless male one of your clients?”

She smiled and said “No – this one is a special. From out of town and into humiliation and pain. You want to watch me torture him? I’m taking him to the whipping room”.

I had nothing better to do at the time so I said “OK – I want to see how you deal with THIS” pointing at his balls.

Nancy said “Feel the little cocksuckers prick – he’s gonna lose them anyway” so I cupped them and squeezed them hard. He gasped but didn’t flinch. Nancy winked and said “Follow me and just watch me whip this pig until he squeals. He deserves it”.

She entered the dungeon area and hung the lead over one of the hooks on the ceiling. We strolled over to the rack to examine the canes, riding crops paddles, and whips hanging there.

I said “If I were you, I would undo the string around his balls – I noticed they were getting cold so the blood supply must be pretty slow”.

She looked at me and smiled. “He’d be pleased if they DID drop off. He’s wanted to be castrated for as long as I’ve known him and that’s over 10 years. One of these days I will trim the dumb ass and cut off the package but for now he’s gonna get those balls of his punished!”

She selected a heavy leather paddle and showed it to him. His eyes got big but he didn’t say anything. Nancy unhitched the lead from the hook in the ceiling and led him to a whipping bar – it was made like a sawhorse with two A frames at the ends and a horizontal bar across the top. She quickly tied his ankles to the sides of the frame and fastened the lead to the eyebolt in the floor so he was bent double over the bar of the sawhorse. She walked around to stand in front of him, grabbed his chin and pulled his head up so she could look in to his eyes. “You worthless piece of shit. I’m gonna pound your balls to pulp. The only way you are gonna come again is if a big buck fucks your ass until you dribble your cum. Your balls are gonna be pulp by the end of the night”. She held the paddle to his lips and he kissed it. I could hear him saying over an over again” Thank you Mistress, my balls are yours”.

She slapped his face with an open palm and walked around the sawhorse. She undid the string and removed the sound then grabbed his balls and pulled – I was amazed at how far they extended. It must have been a good 9 inches. She slipped her hand around until his balls were in the palm of her hand with her fingers either side of the root. She raised the paddle and brought it down hard! I winced at the sight and the flat slap must have flattened his balls severely. He didn’t whimper! Nancy shouted “Well, slave. What do you say to your Mistress for taking her valuable time to play with you?” He gasped out “Thank you Mistress”.

This didn’t please Nancy. She whacked his balls harder. “What slave? I can’t hear you” Again his balls were slapped hard. “Talk to me you useless wanker”. Another slap.

He was breathing hard through his nose – his breath sounded like a whistle. The pain must have been unbearable. He gasped out “Thank you Mistress”. Again she slapped his balls – the crack of the paddle was loud in the room and this time he gasped in a series of shorter and shorter breaths. Nancy shifted position until she was alongside his waist facing away from his head and transferred her attention to his backside. She brought the paddle down hard – it whistled to its target and bang! It hit home – the impression was clearly outlined in fiery red and the white of the main paddle area started to flush deep red as I watched. She paddled him without mercy for about five minutes until she was dripping with sweat and she stopped to change to a cane. She swished it above his head. He flinched and moaned softly. I suspected that he knew exactly what was coming and sure enough Nancy placed the cane over his backside to measure the distance and then swung it hard, leaving a white weal across his buttocks. This quickly reddened and started to puff up and become raised.

I will say that her accuracy was remarkable – she laid down more stripes about ½ “ apart and absolutely parallel from the top of his buttocks to the top of his thighs. She then swapped back to a hard wooden paddle and said “Now, you useless slave, I’ll cream your balls” and she started to whack his balls again. By this time the sweat and mucus was dripping from his nose and he was making small wheezing sounds. How he stood the pain from his tortured testicles, I don’t know.

Nancy stood back and picked up a glass of water and allowed him to drink half through a straw and flung the rest of the water in his face. As she put the glass back down, I touched her elbow and said “Here’s my phone number. Give me a call about tonight. I might have something of interest for you”.

She looked at me and raised an eyebrow – she usually did this as a form of question and took the business card. I was thinking hard about what I had witnessed and wasn’t prepared to discuss it until I had thought things through. “Call me” I said and I blew her a kiss and turned to leave.

I hadn’t been aware of the crowd that had gathered behind me as I watched but as I turned to leave, several of the women who were watching Nancy’s performance were panting with excitement. One woman about 35 years old had her hands down the front of her jeans and was flushed with sexual orgasm. Her hand busily rummaged at her crotch and her eyes were glazed, and she was lost in her own world of pleasure and excitement.

I smiled and left the club for home.

Over the next few days, I thought hard about Nancy’s client and about what to do with my cash and the rest of my life. Perhaps there was a way to combine the two.

Three days later on Sunday morning, I got a call from Nancy. “Hi – I’m in the neighbourhood and remembered you wanted to see me”.

“I’ve nothing on – why don’t you call in and we can go out for lunch?”

“Deal!” said Nancy and in a few minutes I saw her car pulling into my drive.

I settled her with a coffee and she said “Now. You wanted to see me after last Thursday. What is it about?”

“It’s professional …” I started saying.

Nancy raised her eyebrow. “Oh, Hon, I never took you to be submissive”.

I protested “No! You have the wrong idea entirely!”

She leaned forward and said “Look Hon, there’s no disgrace in it. I’ve had lots of beginners and they are all like you. You’ve taken the first step and if you want me to become your Mistress, then of course I’ll take you on!”

I laughed. “No – I REALLY want to discuss something else”. I put on a mock severe voice. “Be quiet, woman and hear me out”.

I paused and said “You know your client that you were ball busting? The one that you said had a castration fantasy? How serious is he?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’d say pretty serious. He has asked me to chop his balls off and offered plenty of cash for me to do it more than once. Why are you asking?”

I leaned back and outlined my thoughts. “Look, I was thinking of setting up a ranch devoted to castrating men. I’d run it as a part charity, part commercial concern. If someone wants to be a eunuch then they can pay the cash, get cut as they wanted and off they go. Otherwise, sign up as slave of the ranch for a fixed period until they have paid off the cash and are then free to go. It would depend on what they wanted – a simple castration would be perhaps 9 months labour, penectomy about the same and for full nullification, then perhaps a year and a half, or two years. During that time, I’d work them as slaves and have a complete set of servants to look after me and to play with. They get what they want, so do I”.

Nancys eyes widened but she said nothing. After a little while she said “Where would this ranch be?”

“Not in the USA, that’s for sure. Mexico probably. Though the recruitment and legal bits would probably be here in the States. It’s something I have thought about for a while and the only thing that has stopped me has been the lack of suitable slaves. Watching you the other night made me realise that there are probably quite a few potential slaves out there and to make the project viable. I want to quiz you about the numbers you think would come forward”.

“So how would it work – I mean …”

I interrupted her. “OK – here’s how I’d see it as working. The services are made known to the interested people – like you and your clients and other dommes and slaves. Their first stop is a lawyer’s office – and I can guarantee you that in LA there are some sneaky, devious lawyers that will make anything legal if the money is right. There they have the full implications of what they are agreeing to explained to them in front of witnesses and videoed to make sure that they are absolutely certain of the results. They sign a provisional agreement and are given an air ticket to Mexico BUT it is at least one month before they can fly. They fly to Mexico, they are again given an opportunity to change their mind. If they sign the papers for this stage then they are brought to the ranch and, if they can’t pay, put in a chastity belt, set to work. After 21 days they are prepped for surgery. They sign the final papers and are operated on. I would have thought that after three weeks of chastity and no opportunity to masturbate, any fantasists would have gotten sick and want to leave. They’d be free to go. Their slave service begins the day they are cut. At the end of the time, they are released with a payment of about 1 months wages with a ticket back to the States. Otherwise they arrive, pay their cash and are cut as soon as they want to be after signing the papers”.

“What happens if they cash in the ticket and never turn up?”

I laughed. “Better to change their mind then than afterwards. If they try it again, then they pay their own way to Mexico”

Nancy leaned back. “You really mean this, don’t you?”

“Never been more serious”.

She got up and paced the room. “You aren’t making this up? You really mean this?”

“That’s where I need your advice. I don’t accept men as subs – and even if I did, I wouldn’t deal with as many as you do as a professional. So how may of your clients are REALLY serious about becoming eunuchs?”

She frowned and was quiet for a while. She slowly said “I can guarantee you at least 11, probably as many as 20. Possibly a few more. But then I know quite a few other Dominatrixes. I’m not certain how many of their clients would be potential customers but …” She was thinking hard. “What’s the timescale you have in mind?”

“No fixed timescale – I’ll wait until I have a reasonable number of potentials and then go ahead. I estimate that I could have the operation running in about 3 to 4 months from the word go”.

She sat down and breathed hard. After a while, she said “If you want, I will talk to a few of my contacts. I think a few of the people I know would be interested”.

“OK – why don’t you invite them here. Let’s say in a months time? I can then explore the possibilities and then explain the setup to them once I have made arrangements to host them. Anyway I promised you lunch. You want Italian?”

“Yes please! This is gonna cost you – I want the best Italian restaurant in LA and it isn’t cheap”.

I laughed. “Never thought you were cheap…….”.

Six weeks later, I had arranged a reception for the people Nancy had contacted. Including Nancy, there were 27 people in the room. Several I recognised as Dominatrixes or Masters by their clothes, others I knew personally and some dressed as though they were going to their country club. There were 6 men, the rest women.

After half an hour, they had sampled the buffet and become mellow on the wine, I called the meeting to order and explained how I intended to run the ranch. After answering quite a few questions, I wound the meeting up by saying “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where you come in. You have been invited here because you are interested in the concept. But I need hard numbers. There are some forms at the back of the room and if you would complete them, let me know your contact details, the numbers of people you are reasonably certain that want to be castrated and allow me to make a decision on whether this project is worthwhile”.

They drifted towards the back of the room but an older lady approached me directly. It’s hard for me to age American women, especially rich American woman due to plastic surgery but I’d say she was in her late 40’s or perhaps very early fifties. She looked vaguely familiar and was dressed expensively and wore too much jewellery – all of it solid gold by the lustre and colour. She tapped me on the chest with a perfectly manicured fingernail painted blood red. “Young man. I want eunuchs. I want servants around me that I can trust”. She rummaged in her handbag and extracted a business card. She wrote a phone number on the back and handed it to me. “That is my personal number. Call me once you can supply me with eunuchs” she commanded and left.

I turned the card over and looked at the name. I whistled softly. The company name and the woman were famous and her personal fortune would make my cash look like the small change from the back of her sofa.

After the people drifted away and Nancy and I were alone we collected the forms and counted up the numbers of potential eunuchs. There were 329! This project was viable.

Recruitment

After a few phone calls and even more meetings between various Dominatrixes, Masters and their subs, I could guarantee that even with a 50% drop out rate, I had about 120 definite potential eunuchs. This was just from the first batch of people who had attended the presentation.

Getting the lawyers to draw up the standard contracts and advise on the legality of the system was no problem – expensive, but after a month I had watertight contracts and systems to prevent any sort of prosecution.

I found and bought a 26 acre run down hacienda in Mexico – it was on a peninsula jutting out into the Pacific. It was too dry to be a viable farm. The old farmer had just died and his sons weren’t interested in the land but were very interested in the cash. Really, it was a bargain and as soon as the land was legally mine, within three days I had an architect on site to draw up plans for a “cosmetic surgery” resort. The plans were produced in good time and construction started.

The difficulty I had was in recruiting a suitable surgeon. I advertised in several leading medical journals for a specialist urino-genital surgeon giving a general outline of the work. I had good responses from the adverts but the candidates were freaked out once I described what they would be doing at the interview.

I was beginning to despair when I interviewed candidate no. 37. At first I didn’t expect anything from Karen when I first met her. She was small, dark hair, about 5 feet, slim with small but firm breasts. She looked nervous. Her physical appearance didn’t bother me but she looked as though she was expecting to be rejected – although her CV and work experience was excellent.

I welcomed her into my “office” (rented via a front company for the day in case of problems) and settled her into a comfortable chair while I sat on the sofa. After the preliminary chat I checked her CV again (although I had committed it to memory) and took the opportunity to study her under my eyebrows. She held her hands in her lap and twisted her fingers nervously.

“OK Karen, you do understand that this is a residential position and that you will be living in Mexico, although you will be given generous travel expenses to visit home and all your living costs will be paid for while you are at the clinic. Are you happy with the salary?”

She looked startled. “I thought the salary was good but I didn’t realise that living expenses would be taken care of”.

“If you would like to see your accommodation, I can fly you to the clinic. However, here is the architects plans and schematics for the house allocated to you”. I indicated the drawing board I had set up. “ But if you have any special requirements, such as horse riding, a swimming pool or whatever, we will of course be happy to provide whatever facilities you want”.

She looked even more unhappy. “What’s the catch? I admit I need this job but it all sounds too good to be true”.

I leaned back and looked at the ceiling but continued to study her through half closed eyes. After about half a minute I looked back at her and said “As you have been frank with me, I will be frank with you too. We are having difficulty filling the position due to the work involved and must compensate for this in the salary and package. You see Karen, this is a special clinic which deals with surgery on males only. You will be creating eunuchs by castrating men”.

Her eyes flew open and she jumped in her seat. “WHAT!” .

I pretended to look startled. “I’m sorry – let me explain what I mean by castration. There is a simple orchidectomy – that is removing the testicles and sometimes the scrotum too – referred to as castration, although in my opinion, this just means that the man is castrated and not a eunuch. He can still have sex with appropriate hormone treatment. Then you may be required to perform a penectomy. That can involve removing the entire penis or just the glans or some of it – this is called stumping for obvious reasons. Then there is full nullification, where the whole of the external genitalia is removed. The urethra may be relocated to between the anus and the site of the testicles or may exit at the front as usual”.

“Then I should explain the financial side of things. Some of the people will be paying for their surgery – these people will be arriving and after you have performed the desired surgery, then as soon as they are well, they will leave. Others will be unable to pay for their surgery and if they want to become eunuchs, then they will be effectively slaves for a fixed time until they have paid off their debt. These people will be available to you for whatever purposes you want”.

I must admit that she had recovered from her surprise quickly and had been listening attentively.

“Available? What do you mean, available?”

“Well, you may require a body slave, cleaner, cook or whatever. You may want them to please you in any way you can think and it will be their obligation to obey you – don’t forget, they have agreed to a slave contract until their debt is paid off. I DO mean any and every pleasure or purpose you wish. For example, I intend the place to be self sufficient as far as possible and not only will I grow and raise all the food on the property, but I will use the eunuchs as beasts of burden and labourers. They will have to be fit and in good physical condition and working them hard will be an excellent way of doing that. I do assure you that the most work you will do will be the operations. You can have as many slave servants as you want”.

I had been watching her reaction during this explanation and she was now flushed and her brow was beaded with sweat. She was breathing heavily and leaning forward and more significantly, her nipples were stiff, hard and very prominent. I knew then that I had found my castratrix.

I pretended concern. “You look shocked, Karen. Let me pour you some water”. I walked over to the sideboard and poured a glass of water from the jug and took it back to her. She took the glass and gulped it down.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to castrate men? And turn them into slaves? Isn’t that illegal?”

I laughed. “I would agree that non consensual slavery is illegal but this is entirely consensual. It is more of a form of contract where the potential eunuch agrees to work for a set period and is subject to the discipline the organisation deems suitable. Besides, he will have ample opportunity to change his mind before you trim him. I have had lawyers draw up the contracts and they are no more onerous than, say, someone joining the Army or Marines and it is entirely voluntary. The contracts are watertight.”

She paused to digest this information . ”How many?”

I pretended to calculate the numbers. I wanted to play her like a fish on a line. “Hmm. I have firm orders for 120. Once the word gets out, then I would expect more but initially I envision you castrating about 5 men a day – excluding weekends, of course but if you want to operate on less, then of course you must decide.

She was still panting and I though she was going to faint with excitement. I tested her commitment. “Look, I realise that this may be quite a leap to take and you will have many concerns with the setup. Can I ask you out to dinner this evening and afterwards, we can go to a club where you can meet some of my friends who will vouch for me and the job. It may convince you that what I am proposing is perhaps more mainstream than you would believe and desired by far more men than you would think. The only thing stopping them is the fact that they cannot persuade more conventional doctors to perform the operation and need a referral from their family doctor. The anonymity and ease of what I am proposing should attract a considerable number of men”.

“Do you have any questions at this stage?” She did indeed have questions and I spent the next hour elaborating the details of what I had told her. I eventually said “OK – it’s getting late. Let me know where you are staying and I’ll have a taxi pick you up, we can have dinner and then you can meet Nancy. I’m sure she will reassure you”.

As soon as she had left, I phoned Nancy. “I reckon I have a Doctor for the project – and it’s a she!” I knew Nancy was keen on selling the concept of a female castratrix to her clients and Karen would fit the bill. I chatted to Nancy for a while about Karen and described as much as I could to Nancy about her appearance and reactions. “I’m taking her to the Club after dinner – please be there”.

Nancy was delighted and promised to meet me at the Club.

Meanwhile I gave Karen’s details to the Private detective I had retained and asked him to find out as much as he could about her. I was later to learn that she had been living with a man who had used her and had emptied her bank account, sold her house from over her head and disappeared with the cash. She was left with a massive debt and virtually her entire salary was being used to service the debt. No wonder she said that she needed the job and was so nervous.

The taxi delivered Karen to my favorite expensive restaurant and she looked quite demure in high heels, a simple black dress and a single fine chain necklace. She looked startled at my choice of outfit (leather jeans, black shirt and black jacket) but didn’t say anything. As soon as we had finished eating, I took her to the club.

Steve the doorman allowed us in (Karen didn’t conform to the dress code but I was well enough known to vouch for her) and I spotted Nancy at a table next to the bar. She saw us and immediately came across. She grabbed me said “Hi Hon, nice to see you again” and kissed me on the cheek. I introduced Karen as “the Doctor” and Nancy kissed her too, grabbed her hand and said over her shoulder “You leave Karen with me – I’ll look after her tonight”. I glanced at my watch – it was 7-20PM.

I circulated among the crowd, chatting to friends and enjoying myself until almost 11PM when I decided to leave but first, I wanted to find Nancy and Karen (if she was still in the club). One of the subs, Candy, said that Nancy was in the whipping room so I wandered off to find her.

The sight that greeted me was a revelation. A naked male was tied up by his wrists to one of the hooks on the ceiling. His ankles had been tied together and he was being whipped by Karen. She had taken off her dress and was wearing only her high heel shoes and a pair of black thong panties. Her back was covered in a sheen of sweat and as she lashed the slave, her small firm breasts jiggled nicely. She wasn’t holding back and the slave was getting a comprehensive whipping. He danced on his tip toes and was making a low, constant keening. I then noticed that his mouth had been sealed with tape.

Nancy spotted me and walked over. “Well, Hon, your shrinking violet is blooming – as you can see. She didn’t take much persuasion I can tell you!”.

I laughed. “I’m off to bed Nancy. Take care of her tonight and ask her to come to my house tomorrow. Put the taxi on my tab, ok?”

Nancy kissed me on the cheek and said “G’night Hon. Wilco”.

The next morning, Nancy’s car pulled into the drive and Karen and Nancy walked up the drive holding hands. I knew Nancy was bi and I guessed what had happened last night.

Karen was a transformed person – she looked serene, happier and much calmer.

I sat the girls down and after the usual pleasantries; I said “Has Nancy managed to convince you that my proposal and the job are genuine?”

Significantly, Nancy glanced at Karen and Karen replied “Yes – I think that our discussion and my experiences last night certainly helped me to understand the situation. I want to accept the job, if it’s still open”.

I smiled and held out my hand “Welcome aboard, Karen. Glad to have you as our surgeon and castratrix. Now, let’s get down to details …”.

The rest of the day was taken up with discussions about salary, the house being built for the Surgeon and how she wanted it decorated (think Arabian Nights meets high Gothic!) plus duties, timings etc.

I asked her where she was living so that the contracts and the other paperwork could be delivered and Nancy said “Send the stuff to my place, Hon. Karen will be staying with me for a while”.

“OK – I’ll be in touch when we’re ready to start operations. But in the meantime, as soon as you sign the contract, you are on salary”.

The First Castrations

As the building work on the ranch was well advanced by the time Karen signed her contract, within the month we were ready to proceed.

The month was busy for me – I phoned the various people I had shortlisted from the various forms and started to process them through the legal side of things and issuing airline tickets to those who were signing up for work instead of payment. These were shipped to the ranch early and were locked into chastity tubes, steel slave collars and anklets. I had arranged for five trusted male friends who were Doms to work for me and be overseers for the slaves and to train them and keep them fit. They jumped at the chance.

I set the slaves to work digging and clearing the fields around the place (by hand – I wanted them to be fit and well toned) and preparing the gardens, lawns and grounds. I enjoy gardens and the plans for the landscaping had been drawn up by one of the best landscape architects I could find. The desalination plant I had installed produced an abundance of fresh water so the grounds were green and verdant within two weeks.

Karen flew in and settled into her new house. She examined the operating theatre and ordered the various drugs, supplies and medical equipment she needed. While she wasn’t doing this, she investigated the various slaves (the workers were all too poor to pay cash so were on slave contracts) and selected four as her personal servants. She was highly delighted to see that they all were wearing chastity devices. She quickly got into the habit of ordering the slaves to be naked (except for their chastity devices) and she didn’t bother wearing clothes as much as possible in her house and as little as possible outside. I noticed her enjoying the discomfort of the slaves as their sexual frustration was obvious.

We had breakfast together and after a few days of this, I said “Karen, I am a practicing naturist and being nude doesn’t bother me – if you prefer to be naked, then I have no objection. All I ask is that, unless you know the visitor, you wear SOMETHING when there are visitors around. OK?”

She grinned. “I didn’t realise that you had noticed. Thanks for the tip off”.

“From now on, I will command that the slaves will be naked – as you are a Doctor, it’s your responsibility to monitor them for sunburn and make sure they don’t succumb to heat stroke”.

She grinned and I changed the subject.

Later that day, I noticed that all the slaves were naked and Karen was deliberately parading back and forth in the nude to torment them and “checking” that they were not getting sunburned. She was particularly scrupulous in checking that their cock and balls were not being burned unduly. How kind of her!

After a week, Karen had settled into her house and over breakfast, I said “Nancy will be flying in tomorrow – she’s bringing in one of her clients for an operation. He’s paying so no tormenting him. Once he’s operated on, and after recovery, he’ll be flying out. How soon can you operate on him?”

Karen flushed and said as casually as she could “I’ll need 12 hours to allow his stomach to empty, then I can operate”.

“OK – I’ll leave the timings to you. He’ll be in one of the hospitals private rooms. I presume that you want Nancy to stay with you as she’s your friend?”

“Yeah, Nancy can stay at my place – I’ve stayed at hers. So no problems”.

Nancy arrived the next day at about 11 AM and the eunuch (I couldn’t think of him in any other way) was the client I had seen Nancy torturing that night at the Club.

Karen greeted Nancy in the nude – except for a pair of high heel sandals – and I could see the future eunuchs reaction. I took him to one side and said “OK – I’ll show you to your quarters. Leave your bag here – it will be brought to you later and you will be prepared for your operation”.

I led him to the hospital wing and to a private room. “Strip and enter the room – take a shower and relax. You’ll be operated on tomorrow” He obediently stripped, entered the room and I closed and locked the door behind him.

After a few hours, I called in on Karen and Nancy. Both were naked and as Nancy scrambled for her clothes, I laughed and said “Don’t worry, Nancy. Women here can do as they please. All the slaves are chastised and are harmless. Karen can vouch for that. And in a weeks time, the first batch of them will be castrated so will be even more harmless.”

I told Karen that her patient was locked into his room and that if she wanted to visit him and discuss things, she should at least put on a white coat to look professional.

I said to Nancy “I see he is in for full nullification. Is that your idea or his?”

Nancy had put on a dressing gown and replied “His – I’m not forcing anyone into anything. He wants me to witness his castration as his Mistress. Is all”.

“OK – I’ll leave you in Karens capable hands. I suppose you will be acting as the nurse?”

Nancy laughed. “Dressing up in a nurses outfit isn’t one of my kinks but it should be fun!”

I rolled my eyes in mock resignation and left them to it.

A few hours later Karen and Nancy called in to my house and announced “He’s going to get cut tomorrow at 8AM. He’s ready to sign the papers and I need you to do it soon so I can get him prepped and sedated”. I grunted and Karen and I walked to the office we had set up for the signing. It was equipped with several video cameras and sound recording equipment to make sure I had a full record of him agreeing to the operation. We entered and retrieved the forms from a filing cabinet. Nancy, Karen and the cameras would be witness to the agreement.

He was brought in and I read a prepared statement that had been carefully written by my lawyers and asked him if he wanted to back out of the agreement. He was trembling and sweating but he replied that he wanted to go through with it. I asked him to speak up (for the benefit of the sound recording equipment) and got him to repeat that he wanted to be castrated. He then signed the forms and Karen and Nancy witnessed the signature.

Karen immediately stepped forward and injected a sedative into his arm and led him away. I let out a deep breath and Nancy said “Well, Hon. I guess I will have to believe you”.

I asked her what she meant and she explained that she hadn’t really believed that I was serious and even at this late stage, she still had doubts.

“You’ll see tomorrow – you will have your own eunuch sub shortly”.

“I guess I will, Hon. I can’t wait to see him nice and smooth down there”.

The next morning, Karen and Nancy breakfasted with me – I am an early riser so we were finished by 7AM and the girls made their departure but not before I had questioned Karen regarding the eunuch. She explained that he had been prepped the night before and she had sedated him an hour beforehand. The final preparation and anaesthetic was due and he should be castrated slightly early. She had trained a few of the slaves in basic nursing and he should be well taken care of.

I didn’t know how long the operation would take and it was a coincidence that I happened to be strolling past Karen’s house as Nancy and her were approaching and noticed they were walking quickly, hand in hand. Both were flushed and judging by their nipples, highly turned on. I nodded and left them to it as they entered the house. I could guess what they were planning.

The next morning we breakfasted as usual and I asked how the operation went. Karen was no committal and replied that it had gone smoothly and no complications. She had checked on him before breakfast. Nancy was more forthcoming. “Hon, I’ll tell you now I orgasmed when she cut his balls off and didn’t stop until he was sewn up. God!! I have NEVER come as hard or as long as I did yesterday when I saw him get cut. I was exhausted”.

I smiled. “Glad to pleasure a lady – even if I wasn’t there”. We all laughed. “Once he’s healed, I would like to examine him. I’d like photographs too for publicity purposes. Do you intend to have him serve you?” I asked Nancy.

“Yes. Karen said that he will be in a state of shock and keeping him busy will help him overcome this. He’ll be better off walking around and the air will help the wound heal. So you should see him around”.

“He’ll be naked?” “Of course Hon. No point in having a eunuch if you can’t show him off and he’s wanted this for so long that he needs to have this displayed for the benefit of him and the rest of the slaves”.

I turned to Karen. “Speaking of which, any plans to start on the slaves?” I asked.

I was astonished to learn that she had plans to operate on six over the next two days. We arranged to have them sign the contracts and unsurprisingly the four that Karen had selected as her personal slaves were on the list They had requested full nullification and had been selected especially by her for that reason. She wanted her own “harem guards” to be completely smooth and they were to be operated on as soon as possible. It was her choice and it would demonstrate to the rest of the slaves exactly what they had let themselves in for. I expected some drop outs because of this but how many would be interesting to find out.

Three days later, I bumped into the three of them. The eunuch was naked except for a slave collar and sandals and I could see that the dressings had been removed from his crotch. He had a small catheter between his legs – Karen had relocated his urethra between his legs and he would have to sit like a woman to pee. I must admit it was a shock to finally see a full nullo. Nancy ordered him to open his legs and bend over and display himself. I examined his crotch closely. Karen had done an excellent job – the wound had been closed cleanly and was healing well and the root of his cock had been removed so that his crotch was as smooth as he could possibly wish. He looked pleased but I suppose he was still under medication.

“Well Nancy, you got your eunuch”.

She grinned. “Sure have, Hon. I can’t wait to show him off – and I can guess that you’ll have plenty more repeat business before long”.

“Here’s hoping!” I replied.

A week later the four nullos and two castrated slaves (balls and scrotums removed) were walking around and being driven mercilessly by Karen. Nancy had left after 5 days and taken her nullo with her. Karen was glowing and looked happier than I had ever seen her.

I asked her how many eunuchs she could turn out a week. She explained that the limiting factor was the help and nursing provision. We discussed getting in additional nurses from outside. She was adamant that she didn’t want anyone else here as she thought that any nurse would run a mile and talk to the press, TV stations and “spoil” the arrangement. I had to agree that she had a point but if there were sufficient nurses into BDSM and could be carefully interviewed and selected, this might solve the problem.

She insisted that she would prefer to train her own nurses from the slaves and she should soon have enough.

I questioned her about this as I wasn’t entirely convinced. She indicated her nullos.

“You see them?” She asked. “After I cut them virtually all the slaves here really wanted to serve me. They were begging me to take them as servants and pleading to be cut. I set the rules – I need nurses and I’ve picked out the most intelligent and promising. That’s one of the things I need to talk to you about. I will need long term slaves and nurses so only those willing to be nullified and serve as slaves for two years will be allowed to become nurses. Some of the contracts will have to be changed because some of the slaves only wanted castration. It’s my way or the highway”.

“What about your slaves? Are you training them to be nurses?”.

“No – they were taught basic nursing only and I really want them as my body servants” (I smiled at this) “I want them to attend to me. I need five or six more nullos as nurses”.

“You know the rules – it has to be their choice. Send the ones to me that are willing to undergo the surgery to become nurses and I’ll check with the lawyers”.

She smiled a wolfish smile. “I will! In the meantime I can look after about two new eunuchs a day until I can get them trained so that’s what will happen”.

I thought about this and was surprised that none of the slaves had withdrawn once they had seen the eunuchs that Karen had cut and even more surprised that quite a few had chosen to become nullos instead of just castrated. After the careful selection process I suppose that they had to be pretty committed to have got this far. That, and the smooth look of the nullos. Karen made it a rule that she removed the root of their cocks and relocated the urethra between their legs so that a thin scar along the centreline of their crotch was the only sign of their operation and that would fade quickly.

The next day I called the slaves together and explained Karens terms. I also explained that if they were willing, I had vacancies for permanent, irrevocable slavery contracts and that I had people interested in owning them as servants. Anyone willing to be sold into permanent slavery could volunteer for this and they would be put forward for selection by prospective owners. I warned that it would be the owner that selected the castration level and that they would not have a choice in the matter. I warned that I would not see anyone for at least a week as I wanted them to think about it hard and I needed to prepare the contracts.

A week later, there were a further 7 nullos and 9 castrated slaves in addition to the six that Karen had cut. The hospital was full and there was a lull in Karens workload.

16 potential slaves turned up at my office on the day I had selected for interviewing them. I had prepared a lecture for them that had been reviewed carefully by the Lawyers and I proceeded to give it exactly as discussed with the lawyers. I gave them a time to return the next day after considering the situation over night and I would interview them then.

All 16 turned up and I got them to sign contracts in front of witnesses and video and sound recorded evidence as a guarantee.

I then phoned my rich client, the one that wanted “eunuch servants” and told her that I had some nullos already and that I had a selection of 16 males that were willing to be slaves and willing to be cut to suit her requirements. She arranged to fly into the local airport in her private jet and I would pick her up in my car (an S Class Mercedes – it should suit her).

I called Karen and explained the situation to her. She asked how the Lady would get here. I described the arrangements and her arrival time.

Karen grinned her wolfish grin. “She should get out of the car at the gate”. I was puzzled. It was about 800 yards to the accommodation from the gate and in the heat I doubt she would appreciate the walk. I should have guessed that Karen had something in mind.

“The hacienda had a carriage which I’ve been getting the slaves to repair and repaint. It is ready for use. I want to show off my nullo slaves and I think she should be brought from the gate to here in a carriage pulled by my nullo ponies. What do you think?”

I asked her who gave her the idea for this and wasn’t surprised to hear it was Nancy. “She has this book by a guy called John Willie – he’s a limey too, just like you – and he did a few stories about pony girls. I liked the idea and when you said I could do what I wanted …”

I admitted that it was a neat idea but I wanted to be sure that the concept was feasible. Karen laughed. “I’ve been working on it for a while – when you go off site on business, I’ve been training them with the carriage. I wanted to surprise you. They are good to go”.

I hadn’t anything to do for the rest of the day so I put on a mock stern voice. “Young lady, I think you should demonstrate this – and right now”.

She slid off the seat and disappeared. About 20 minutes later, I heard a jingling noise and a black sulky carriage pulled up outside pulled by six nullo slaves. They had their hands tied behind their backs and were wearing chest harnesses hitched to the shafts. They wore plumes on their head harnesses and the reins lead back to Karen in the drivers seat. A lacy parasol shaded her and she held a whip in her right hand. She spotted me and grinned. I shook my head in mock disbelief and climbed aboard – I noticed the welts across the backs and buttocks of the nulloes and I suspected that Karen wouldn’t spare either the whip or them.

Once settled, she cracked the whip to one side and the sulky began to move in that direction. No commands, just a crack of the whip to direct and encourage the nullos to pull the coach. She drove them to the gate and turned them around. It had taken about five minutes to get there. She grinned.

“Well, you reckon they will make the grade?”.

“Trot them back and let me see how fast they can get to the house”. A crack of the whip and a few swats to their buttocks had the nulloes running along nicely and the carriage returned to the house in short order.

“OK – I’m convinced – have them at the gate and in good order tomorrow. I’ll leave the organisation to you”.

The Texan Lady

The following day, I met the lady at the local airport – she had flown in her own private Lear jet and I was waiting for her at 8AM. She must have paid the local bribes because the customs formalities were over in short order.

One of the slaves was dressed as a chauffeur and I got into the back of the car with her. She said “I sure hope I have not wasted my time coming here”.

I reassured her that she could select from 16 potential eunuchs and that they would be castrated to whatever degree that she required and would be shipped to her as soon as they had recovered from the operation.

We arrived at my hacienda and the electronically controlled gate swung open as we approached. The chauffeur stopped just inside the gate and opened the rear door. She looked at me and I requested that she changed transport for the rest of the journey to the house.

She got out of the car and Karen drove the sulky with her six nullo ponies from behind the gatehouse. They were, as usual, naked except for the tack and I heard the Lady draw breath sharply. She strode forward and examined the nullos intently, running her hands over them and feeling their empty crotches. She turned to me and I could see the pleasure and approval in her eyes.

“If you would like to mount the carriage, I will get Karen to drive us to the Office”.

She gave me a scornful look. “Young man, I am a Texan and I know how to handle horses. If you don’t mind, I will drive them myself”.

As I got into the coach, Karen shuffled to the passenger seat and held out the reins and whip for the lady. She nimbly mounted the carriage and settled herself. “Now, let’s see what this rig will do”. She expertly flicked the whip and a weal appeared across the front right nullos back. He leaped forward and she had them running full pelt towards the house. She was right – Karen had trained them to be ponies and they responded as ponies. The lady certainly could handle them and brought the carriage to a halt in front of the office complex that I had converted from the original buildings. She dismounted and Karen explained the castration process as she examined the nullos again. She was reluctant to leave them and I’m sure I could have named my price and got it for the six.

I managed to tear her away from the ponies and enter the front office.

It was equipped like a comfortable living room and she settled into an armchair. “Karen will be master of ceremonies for today and I am sure she will be able to answer any questions you have. However, I will be here to help answer any questions she can’t”.

Karen clapped her hands (a nice touch) and one of her personal nullos entered. He was naked except for a steel slave collar, steel anklets and cuffs. He knelt on the floor in front of Karen and bowed until his head touched the floor. Karen asked if she would like any refreshments and the Texan Lady asked for beer. Karen repeated her request and the nullo rose to his feet, bowed and exited. The Texan turned to me. “How many eunuchs do you have?” I asked Karen to explain.

“The ranch has 15 nullos, 21 castrated eunuchs that have had their testicles removed and another 17 potential nullos, and 27 to be castrated. Sixteen intact slaves have agreed to be sold into permanent slavery and if any meet your requirements, they will be operated on before being shipped to you. Six of the nullos you have seen already pulling the carriage and I have six personal slaves who are nullos too. The rest do not wish to be permanent slaves and once their contracted period is up, will leave”.

At that moment, four of Karens nullos entered carrying trays and served the drinks and nibbles to go with the food. The Texan could not take her eyes off them. Karen snapped out and order and they obediently lined up in front of the lady. She rose and got them to bend over and examined them intently. She was trembling and when she sat down again, she gulped her beer down.

Karen clapped her hands and one of her nullos escorted the first slave into the room. Naked of course and fully shaved, he was in good condition with the hard labour he’d been subjected to. Karen rattled off the information like any good auctioneer and described the “goods”. I could only imagine that she had been a slave dealer in a previous life and had been reincarnated as a castratrix. The Texan beckoned him forward and was not shy in feeling his cock and balls, feeling his muscles and appraising him like a horse. She was smiling and clearly enjoying herself.

He was directed to a corner of the room and the next slave brought in until she had examined all sixteen. Once they were all lined up she walked along the line examining them again and then went back and tapped seven on the shoulder and waved them forward. “These. I want these seven.”

Karen had anticipated this. She clapped her hands and the rest filed obediently out while her nullos escorted the selected slaves out to a secure cell.

“Now, the question is, how do you want them castrated?”

She pointed to one of Karens nullos. “Like that. All of them like that. I want servants I can trust. I want them smooth”.

The rest of the morning was spent discussing delivery times and prices. She did not bat an eyelid when I mentioned the price. I had thought of a price for each one, doubled it and added on $100,000 and expected her to haggle. She didn’t – the price asked for was the price paid and she seemed pleased with the arrangement.

After lunch (served outdoors and with Karens naked nullos as waiters) the Texan turned to me and said “Well, I sure didn’t believe you when you had that sales pitch at your place but I have got to believe you now. You sure have a neat setup here. How many can you provide?”

I leant back. “This isn’t a sales pitch and I’m not trying to push the price up but I really don’t know. It depends on what the eunuchs want. I really cannot guarantee a steady supply but based on the reaction of the slaves that signed up after seeing Karens nullos, I should imagine a small but steady supply. Why do you ask?”

She looked at me and I could tell she was thinking about what I had said. “I was talking to a few of my friends and they were interested in the idea but weren’t ready to believe me. Once I get MY nullos and can show them off, you might get a few more orders”.

I laughed. “I’ll have to put you on commission. But I genuinely am not doing this only for the money. I really am reliant on potential eunuchs coming forward and agreeing to be sold into slavery with the condition that they will be at the mercy of their owners when it comes to what will be cut away. I was surprised at the sixteen that volunteered as the majority only came here to lose their balls. Unless you can persuade the ladies concerned to supply their own servants in which case, Karen will cut as many as they need”.

She drew a deep breath and thought hard. “I know a few of my friends would like to cut the balls off their husbands just to keep them from straying. OK – I’ll think about it. I’ll let my friends know the setup and I’ll get back to you. Why don’t you sell the ponies and the servants that waited on us?”

“They are Karens servants – here on slave contracts of 2 years. They may want to volunteer at the end of their service or even before that but in the meantime you will have to discuss that with Karen and get the slaves to agree”. Karen grinned like the cat that got the cream. I pushed myself away from the table. “If you will excuse me, I must see to the paperwork side of things over your selection. May I leave you with Karen to amuse yourselves?”

Karen said “I’d like to demonstrate my ponies to a horse enthusiast and see what she thinks of them. Would that be OK?” The Texan grinned. “Sugar pie, I thought you’d never ask”.

The rest of the afternoon, I could hear the jingle of the tack as the two of them drove the nullos mercilessly.

The Texan stayed to dinner and after breakfast in the morning finally took her leave. I watched as she expertly drove the cart up the drive pulled by six well whipped nullos with Karen laughing at their discomfort.

Ten days later, the seven nullo slaves were ready for collection and I phoned the Texan lady. She asked if she could bring a “friend”. I was reluctant to agree but she insisted that she could vouch for her and that she was interested in seeing eunuchs. I did not want to run a freak show and said so. Again she insisted that she was definitely a client if what she saw pleased her. I was reluctant but agreed that provided the Texan lady could guarantee that she would be discreet, I would allow it.

The same arrangement as her first visit was played out – the Lear jet landing at 7-45AM and once customs were cleared, I met the visitor. She was a small woman in her late 40’s I would guess but her sense of determination and her uncompromising attitude were what impressed me the most. I was introduced to her as Mrs. B. She was quiet during the journey back to the hacienda and by 8-30AM we were pulling up inside the gates. The Texan lady was dressed in jeans, a checked shirt, cowboy boots and wore a Stetson – very Texan! – and carried a kit bag. I was curious about what it contained. I would find out later.

Karen as usual was waiting with the carriage and the visitor drew a sharp breath when she saw the nullo ponies. The Texan lady crowed “See! I told ya! This guy is the real shit. When he chops the cock and balls off them, he does a real neat job”. Mrs. B. took her time appraising the nullos while the Texan Lady discussed her slaves with Karen. Karen graciously allowed the two visitors to take charge of the sulky while she and I sat in the passenger seats. The Texan lady cracked the whip and drove the ponies as fast and hard as she could. We were soon at the office and had the visitors settled with refreshments by Karens naked nullo servants. Mrs. B. smiled in a secret way as she took in all the details of the nullos.

Once they were settled, the seven naked nullos were trooped in and the Texan lady cried “Now you can see my goods! What do you think?”

Both ladies examined and felt the nullos and had them twist and bend to examine their crotches and re-routed urethras.

Mrs. B. asked “You really have bought these and had them castrated like that?” The Texan lady confirmed this and Mrs. B. whistled. “Son of a bitch. I’ll be danged”.

The Texan lady said “Now honey, you stay here and discuss your little problem with this gentleman and I’ll take charge of these steers”. She ordered the nullos outside and Karen followed.

Mrs. B. turned to me and said “I’ve got me a problem with my husband. He can’t leave sluts alone. I want him so he can’t chase tail again”.

I had half expected this but asked her what she wanted done and more importantly, why.

“The little cocksucker is my fourth husband and he’s nothing but a gold digger. Should never have married him but … I caught him in bed with my 17 year old daughter. She wasn’t the first but I’m gonna make sure she’s the last. If he wants the lifestyle he’s used to living in my house, then I want to make sure that he can be trusted. I want him nice and safe”.

I explained that I would not castrate him unless he agreed and that he’d been through the same process as any other eunuch. I insisted on the cooling off periods and that he should voluntarily agree to it. After much discussion we came to the agreement that he should volunteer to be sold into slavery under the same conditions that the Texas Lady’s nulloes had been but that she would be the purchaser. We discussed the various surgery options and she agreed that he would have his penis removed, his urethra relocated but his balls would be left. “The bastard won’t make love to me so let him find out how frustrating it is”. I said that this option would likely make him mean and not docile but she insisted “Let the little cocksucker suffer”. I gave her the details of the lawyers in the U.S. and told her it was up to her to persuade Mr. B. the fourth to agree to become her slave.

At that moment we were interrupted by a high pitched scream from outside. I wasn’t alarmed, just curious and strolled to the door to see what had caused the disturbance.

The Texan lady had hung her seven nullos by the wrists from a branch of a Spanish Oak tree and had set up a portable barbecue. She had heated up a branding iron on the barbecue and had just branded the first of the nullos on the pad of fat just above where his penis used to be. She called out to Mrs. B. “Well, this one is the property of the ranch for sure!”. Karen looked on approvingly.

I walked across to her. “You had better take notice how she does this because I reckon that a few of the nullos here will be wearing brands shortly”. Karens nipples were hard and she had that look in her eyes that told me all I needed to know.

It was two and a half months later that Mrs. B’s. husband arrived . He was much younger than her, no more than 25 and a handsome looking specimen. He walked into the office and slumped himself down. This annoyed me. Poor manners always irritate me and he was not my equal, but a slave. Slaves arrive in the estate van and normally don’t see any eunuchs or other slaves unless they are working on the driveway or nearby. Besides it was 1PM and most of the slaves were at siesta in the heat. David, the van driver, already a castrated eunuch ran in after him. “I’m sorry Sir. He would not do what he was told”. I waved David away, told him not to worry, asked him to tell Steve (one of my permanent staff Doms) what had happened and thanked him.

He drawled “Well, this is some kind of setup. I guess that Mrs. B wants to try some kinky stuff with me. That’s OK. I can live with that as long as I get to play with my toys”. He laughed.

“And what kind of toys would those be?” I asked.

“You know, the Ferrari, the plane and stuff. Let me tell you about the new Ferrari I have got ordered ..”.

Steve walked in with two of the other Doms. All three were over 6’ 3” and built proportionately. They were all physical trainers and spent a lot of time in the gym. Craig was ex- services and knew how to handle himself.

“Gentlemen, would you please see to this slave?”.

They dragged him none to gently away and the last I heard was his whiny voice yelling “Hey! Just wait until I see my wife. She’ll have her lawyers sue you …”.

I thought that he must have been particularly stupid to have gone through the process and signed all the documents necessary to get here to think that he was going to behave the same way as he had back in Texas.

After the usual 21 days Mrs. B. flew in with the Texan lady to witness the castration of her husband. He STILL didn’t get it when he finally signed the papers for the final time before he was cut. He had seen the nullos and been allowed to talk to the other castrated slaves freely but somehow he still imagined that he would walk away intact. He petulantly threw the pen down and turned to Mrs. B. “OK – I’ve signed and I’ll be your slave. Now what?”.

Mrs. B. walked across to him and stroked his cheek. “Now my Dear, MY fun begins”. Steve and Craig stepped forward and grabbed him. He barely had time to yell “Hey, you motherfuckers, you take your filthy hands off me” before Karen had injected an anaesthetic into his arm. He quickly slumped into unconsciousness and he was taken out.

It had been decided that he would be shipped out as soon as his cock had been removed and I wasn’t sorry to see him go. He had been a whining thorn in my side and I longed for the peace and quiet of the normal running of the ranch I had become used to.

Oddly enough I got an invitation to a renewal of their wedding vows ceremony about 2 months later. Mrs. B. made a special fuss of me and kissed me loudly and publicly in front of all the rest of the guests. She announced “Hi Y’all. This is the man I have to thank for making my marriage a success”. All the women looked at me with interest and the men just looked puzzled. Mr. B looked suitably subdued and was definitely a changed man.

I had the very pleasant company of the Texan lady for the rest of the day and we shared plenty of private jokes about the difficulty of getting hired help, steers, men leaving the toilet seat up and what constituted a happy marriage. I’m sure that everyone thought we were mad!

The Sheikh

One of the clients that contacted me to purchase eunuchs was an Arab, Sheikh Mohammed Abdul Al Jebel bin Saud – allegedly a minor prince from Saudi Arabia. He was a short, squat ugly character who had suffered the ravages of either chickenpox or severe acne some time in the past. I disliked him on first acquaintance and subsequent meetings did nothing to dispel the impression.

He could not speak English which I found surprising but instead he had a servant, Ashraf, who I took to be from either Pakistan or Bangladesh and mixed race. He was the exact opposite of the Sheikh, slim, fine featured and spoke English well. I took him to be gay and although he would neither confirm or deny this, his wry smile spoke volumes.

He interpreted for the Sheikh and always asked to see “pretty” boys. Karen handled the display of those slaves that had opted for permanent slavery. The Sheikh annoyed her immensely by treating her with hostility and contempt.

Ashraf stated that the Sheikh had “many wives” and that he needed eunuchs to guard them. Judging by the slaves he selected, he wasn’t interested in having them protected very well – he selected young, pretty and slightly built blond boys with the palest skin available.

OK – so he was gay and wanted lovers. I had no objection to this and if that was his pleasure, then so be it but why bother lying and pretending to be some kind of insatiable seducer of women? I would hardly object, considering the operation I was running and that I was employing gay dominant men to look after the place.

His drooling over the pretty boys and his insistence on checking and fondling their cocks and balls was bad enough but the way he grabbed his own genitals while doing it was particularly repulsive.

Any price for the slaves that I thought of was doubled and then doubled again just to put him off but he was so rich that he certainly gave no thought to the cost.

I made quite a killing from selling him slaves and he always wanted full nullification for them. He was back every four months or so (just the amount of time Karen calculated that the slaves would need to lose the physical conditioning that she had trained them to and would be getting flabby and fat if the hormones and hard exercise she administered were stopped).

After selling him four particularly handsome blond slaves (totalling 26 in all) and Asraf again assuring me that the Sheikh needed “many eunuchs to look after his wives” and they had departed after arranging the cash for the bank transfers, Karen asked me if she could try something.

I was surprised. She and I had an excellent working relationship and I trusted her to get on with what was needed. “What’s up Karen? You don’t need to ask permission for anything. If you want to do something, then just go ahead and do it”.

Karen spat the words out. “It’s the Sheikh. He disgusts me” .

I agreed that he wasn’t my favourite character either but what did she want to do?

We retired to my veranda and over a glass of wine she explained what she intended. As usual, Karen had got everything worked out before she explained her plan and after a few questions, I agreed with her scheme.

It was 5 months later when Ashraf and the Sheikh visited again. Ashraf as usual looked very dapper and elegant in a pale grey suit, silk shirt and tie and elegant and expensive Italian shoes. His beard was neatly trimmed and he smelled of expensive and subtle perfume. As usual the sheikh was dressed sloppily and looked like a trailer park inhabitant dressed in their Sunday best.

After the usual interminable preliminaries, talking about everything and anything other than the reason he had come to visit, Ashraf announced that the Sheikh would like to view the goods.

We trooped in the display room as Karen liked to refer to it and three blond, young and pretty boys were shown to the Sheikh. He selected one out of this batch.

The next naked slave was tall, black and powerfully built – the exact opposite to the type that the Sheikh preferred. He certainly was a magnificent specimen and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him His stomach muscles were like a washboard and every individual muscle on his body was clearly sculpted and defined. He was a tribute to the training Karen and the boys had put him through. Karen had oiled him and his skin glowed with a deep brown-black lustre. He was shaved completely and his head looked like a black cannon ball.

However, remarkable as his physical condition was, it wasn’t the thing that struck you on seeing him naked and on display. It was the size of his cock and balls. His cock was at least 15 inches long, about 4 inches wide and his balls were 6 inches long, 4 inches wide. His genitals were grotesque and swung like a hungry python as he walked.

Karen and I had rehearsed what happened next. I exploded at her “How dare you offend the sheikh with this disgusting creature! This is not the type of slave the Sheikh prefers. Get this disgusting sight out of here”. Karen moved towards the slave and I heard the Sheikh speaking rapidly and excitedly to Ashraf.

Ashraf tried to interrupt the Sheikh and get my attention at the same time. I jumped up angrily and started to walk towards the slave. Ashraf leaped forward and held my arm while still speaking rapidly to the Sheikh. “Wait, Wait. Please! The Sheikh would like to examine the slave”.

I growled and ordered Karen to keep the slave in the room for now. I noticed the sheikh was flushed and sweating and there was a distinct bulge in his trousers.

“What is it, Ashraf? I want to remove this… this THING from the sheikhs presence. I do not wish to insult an honoured guest.”.

“No, wait Jeem (he had a problem pronouncing “Jim”). The sheikh would examine this slave. He has need of a strong slave. Let him come forward”.

I pretended annoyance and growled. “Very well, if the Sheikh wishes it …”.

I beckoned the slave forward and for once the Sheikh got out of the chair and knelt in front of the slave. His face was level with the slaves crotch and he fondled the slaves cock and balls with a look of pure lust on his face.

I took the opportunity to bark out a well rehearsed speech to Karen. “Why is this slave here? What have you done to him? Why do you want to insult my friend and my honoured guest?”.

Karen looked suitably apologetic. “I am sorry Sir. This is an experiment that I prepared for another client. I am sure that this is a mistake and one of your servants must have misunderstood the instructions to bring the slaves here”.

Ashraf asked “This is for someone else?”.

As we had agreed and rehearsed, I snapped at Karen “Explain yourself”.

Karen explained that the slave had been prepared for another client who wanted to dominate him. She had spent the last 4 months stretching his penis and scrotum and then had opened up the scrotum and had removed the penis and testicles to leave just the urethra and the empty skin of the penis. She had then constructed another prosthetic penis and balls from silicone rubber to fill the empty skin.

Asdhraf was rapidly translating this for the benefit of the sheikh who had not taken his eyes or his hands of the slaves cock and balls.

The Sheikh asked a question and Ashraf translated “So he cannot get an erection?’

“No more than a cushion can” said Karen in reply. “His skin is intact but there is nothing in it other than foam silicon rubber. It is inert and cannot get hard again”.

The sheikh asked a question and Ashraf answered.

Ashraf said slowly “I think the Sheikh would like to purchase this slave”.

“Impossible. He has been prepared for another client. He is already sold and we cannot replace him in the time left”.

More Arabic and Ashraf said “I am sure that we can compensate the owner. Please Jeem, Consider the Sheikhs offer”.

I paused and pretended to think. “Karen, How dangerous is this operation?”

Not very – it is tricky but not dangerous”.

I asked again “Karen. Suppose the slave died of unforeseen complications…”.

“But he won’t … Oh. I see. I suppose that there is always a small possibility that something might go wrong.”.

“So the slave could die tomorrow?”

“Theoretically, yes but …”

Ashraf was trying to suppress a laugh as he translated the answer for the Sheikh. His face lit up. He gabbled some Arabic. I didn’t need to have it translated to know it meant name your price.

After much more of this pantomime, the price agree for the slave was about 15 times the amount that I charged the sheikh for an ordinary cut slave. I split the profit with Karen.

Afterwards I asked her how she had come up with the fiendish idea.

“Nancy” she declared with certainty.

“Nancy? I know she’s not mainstream but I doubt she would have thought of that!”

Karen laughed. “No, silly! You know that Nancy is an art lover. Didn’t you know she’s into erotic prints and other stuff? She likes an English guy called Aubrey Beardsley – he’s seriously into some weird concepts. Nancy has quite a collection of books and one of them has a picture of the Lacedaemonian Ambassadors”.

I grunted. I was familiar with the drawing she referred to. It consisted of three naked men, all with huge genitals which were impossible in real life. The size of their cocks would mean that they would pass out through lack of blood if they got as hard as the drawing showed.

“So I wanted to see just how big a cock and balls I could produce. I had the slave tied up and hung weights off his cock and balls to stretch them until they were big enough to take the size of the prosthetics I had made. That’s when he wasn’t being run ragged and in the gym being worked to build him up”.

“But why?” I asked.

Karen said “I want another one like that for myself. I want to train him in cunnilingus and to be “all man” but with no chance of getting an erection. I like the though of the biggest cock in all Mexico eating my pussy and never being able to do anything else”. Her eyes glazed over.

“Just don’t let the Sheikh see him otherwise you’ll have to produce a replacement”.

“It’s not the Sheikh I’m worried about. There are women out there that are turned on by the idea … “.

I rolled my eyes in mock despair. “I believe you. Dear God. I believe you”.

Trouble

I’ve often been asked by people, with wide eyes and breathless, squeaky voices “Have I ever castrated someone AGAINST THEIR WILL!!”.

Up until recently, I could honestly answer no – after all, I had been running the hacienda for over three years and had processed hundreds of people through. I had a core staff of over 20 eunuchs of varying description that had opted to be permanent slaves and the property of the hacienda. They were branded (thanks to Karens enthusiasm for the idea after the Texan lady branded her nullos) with the Bar E brand. If you can’t work out what this represents then you haven’t been paying attention.

I had always taken the trouble to be a good neighbor and had always bought locally. When the hacienda was being refurbished, the local tradespeople were employed and I bought the vehicles, supplies and all the rest of the stuff we needed from the nearest town which was about 7 miles away.

I paid the usual bribes to the local Police and even attended church on Sundays and made sure I was involved with the local charities and associations.

So it was a surprise when David, the hacienda chauffeur and driver came in one day crying and having been obviously roughed up. David was gay and sub so had been put onto a low dose of oestrogen to maintain his health. A side effect was that his emotions were somewhat fragile and any upset had him crying easily.

I calmed him down and asked him what was wrong.

He explained that he’d been stopped at a Police checkpoint, half of the shopping he’d been sent into town for had been “lost” after they had searched the van ( an unheard of event) and when he had complained, had been beaten up.

I decided to find out why.

I took the pickup truck into town and made some enquiries. What I learned shocked me.

I had selected the area carefully – it was some distance away from the border and not on the direct line for illegal drugs or illegal immigrants. It was genuinely a relatively crime free area so when I learned that a few of the local criminals had gang raped the 16 year old daughter of the Chief of Police, I was disturbed.

Naturally the man was not happy with this and the threats made by these local criminals prevented any witnesses coming forward to testify. Consequently he had taken out his frustrations on his lower ranks and they in turn had made the lives of the street cops hell. They picked on the next group in the food chain and David had got caught up in this chain of events.

I did not want the problem of a gang war in the neighborhood and I knew that the Police response would be violent and would only escalate the situation. I decided to pay a visit to the Chief in the next town, some 15 miles away.

The Officer on the front desk was shocked and looked fearful when I asked to see the Chief.

“Senor, I advise you that the Chief will not want to see anyone today”.

I took a business card out of my wallet and “accidentally” dropped a $100 note on the counter. I ignored the note and said “Please, would you pass my business card on to the Chief with my compliments”. His eyes took in the $100 note and he took the card. “I will wait here” I turned and gestured to the seats along the wall and when I turned back, the note was gone.

He shrugged and went away.

He returned a few minutes later and announced “Senor, the Chief will see you. Please follow me”.

I was lead into the Chiefs office. He did not present an appealing sight. He had been drinking the cheap local brandy and smoking cigars. The smell of the stale cigar smoke, sweat and his alcoholic breath was enough to make me clench my teeth. I wasn’t here to enjoy the ambience so I smiled and said “Excuse my interruption in your busy schedule Senor Chief but I believe you and I have a problem”.

He grunted and took a gulp of the local rot gut.

“Senor, I believe that you have not visited my humble property. May I invite you and your daughter to visit? Can I send my car for you tomorrow at 9am? I believe that we can resolve out problems together”.

He growled and spat a gob of mucus.

“Gringo, I tell you now. You fuck with me and I will have you killed. You fuck with my daughter and you die so slowly you will wish your mother had died before you were born”.

“Senor, it is about your daughters honour and your own honour that I speak. I understand that some of the local scum have dishonoured your daughter and that you are rightly angry. I wish to show you a solution to your problems that will satisfy your honour and that of your daughter too. Senor, I urge you to consider my words and please visit my humble place and I assure you that the solution I propose will satisfy you completely”.

After much more of the same, he agreed and I arranged to pick them up at the Police station at 9AM.

The next day, I drove the Mercedes myself and picked them up. The daughter was small, barely 4 feet 10 tall and slightly built. She had a sullen and unhappy expression. I couldn’t blame her. The Chief had at least shaved and changed into a clean uniform for the trip.

At the hacienda, I drove straight to the offices and they did not spot any of the slaves.

I got them comfortable and asked if they would like refreshments. I offered the Chief some Napoleon Brandy which he appreciated and I urged him to keep the bottle – a small price to pay for his good mood. I introduced Karen as my “Doctor”.

I outlined the facts as I understood them and asked him if he knew who were the rapists. The daughter confirmed that she knew exactly who they were. Her face was distorted with rage and she would have killed them on the spot if it had been in her power to do so.

I asked if he could arrest them. He agreed that picking them up would not be the problem but if he killed them then the gang would try to kill him and his family or if they went to trial, then the witnesses would refuse to give evidence.

I listened and nodded in agreement. “What if you arrested them and let them go a week later without charging them?”

“Why would I want to do that, Gringo? I want to kill the putas”.

“But, that would start a war that you couldn’t win. Senor, Senorita, you do not know what I do here, do you?”

They looked puzzled. “Let me show you what we do here. Senorita Karen, please demonstrate to these good people what you do”.

Karen clapped her hands and five naked slaves walked in and lined up in front of them. The chief exclaimed something in Spanish – I didn’t recognise what he said but I could imagine it wouldn’t be something you would use in polite company - and then he realised that the nullo in front of him was no longer in any state to dishonour his daughter ever again. His jaw dropped and he muttered and crossed himself.

Karen described the modifications , nullo, castrated only, penis removed and balls intact, stumped down to one inch with balls and the same without balls.

“Senor, I produce eunuchs, as you can see. All the men on this ranch are eunuchs or they are locked away in a chastity belt until they are castrated. None of them can ham your daughters honour. What I propose is this. You arrest these men and turn them over to me. Your daughter will then tell Senorita Karen what she wants done with them and then you release them. No killing, no gang warfare and they will never dishonour your daughter again”.

“But they will want to kill me in revenge”.

“I don’t think so Senor. Do you think that they will go back to their gangs, drop their trousers and say “Look what the police did to me, I want you to take revenge on them”. No - I don’t think so Senor. They will be as quiet as a church mouse and once the gangs realise what has happened, then they will do nothing. They are not afraid to die but THIS” and I gestured towards the slaves, “no man wants that.eh?”.

He poured out a slug of Brandy and gulped it down. “Dios!” he growled.

His daughter had transformed. A fierce glee shone from her eyes and she wriggled in her seat. “What I suggest, Senor, is that your daughter stays here with my Doctor. She will be safe here and she can assist in the operations. Meanwhile, you arrest these brutes and I will pick them up from your Police station, cut them and when they are healed, return them. You can let them go in the certainty that they will not bother you again”.

We discussed the logistics of the operation and once we agreed, I sent him on his way with three bottles of brandy and a much happier disposition.

Maria, his daughter, was engrossed with Karen discussing the operations and examining the slaves. I guessed correctly that she wanted full nullification and to have then sit like a woman to go to the toilet.

Four days later I got a call to say that the five rapists had been arrested and were in the local jail. Karen and I set off in the hacienda van.

Karen was so sunburned that with her black hair, she easily passed for a local. She dressed in a cleaners tabard and walked down the corridor in the cell block. There were only five prisoners and she appraised their weight by looking at them. They wolf whistled her and made plenty of suggestions about what they would do to her if she only would join them in the cells.

She mixed enough sedative into their evening meal to knock out an elephant and due to the highly spiced food they enjoyed, they never suspected anything. They were quickly asleep and two police officers helped load them into our van. Karen checked them and injected them with a drug to keep them comatose.

The journey back to the ranch was uneventful and before we left, operating theatre had been prepared and was ready. The five were quickly prepped and Maria and Karen did a group castration and nullification.

During the following week they were pumped full of sedatives and antibiotics and kept comatose until Karen declared them fit to be released.

We transported them back to the Police station and put them back into the cells. The local drunks must have thought it was Christmas as they were not arrested that night - the only occupants were the rapists. The Chief, Maria and Karen and I were the only witnesses.

Karen injected them with an antidote to the drugs and she and I retired to the shadows. In 15 minutes the first woke up.

He was groggy but he still believed that it was a week earlier. He got up and decided that he needed to pee. He spotted Maria and made a remark about how she must have liked the experience that she had undergone the last time they met that she couldn’t wait for more. The little Mexican spitfire leaped to the cell bars and shook them while a LOT of Spanish curses went down range. She managed to spit as well as curse and screeched a good deal more colloquial Spanish than I understood.

He laughed and said words to the effect that he would repeat his treatment of her just as soon as he got out of the flea pit of a jail. He reached the toilet pan and unzipped his flies and tried to pull his cock out. It took him a few moments to realise what had happened and he started to scream….

The Chief and Maria were grinning like hyenas and could not feast their eyes enough on him as he frantically dragged his trousers off and realised that he no longer had a cock and balls.

I called the Police Chief to me and gave him five fine Havana cigars. He started to open one and I frowned. “Senor! These fine cigars are not for you!” He looked puzzled. “Senor, you must give one each to these Gentlemen so they can give them to their girlfriends”. He started to argue with me but I held up my hands. “Senor, these cigars will be the ONLY “cigars” that their girlfriends will be able to smoke with these Gentlemen”. I winked and grinned.

He started to laugh hysterically. “Senor, you have a long night ahead of you. Doctor Karen has arranged it so that they will wake up at half hour intervals. You have another few hours as these people wake up and realise that they are no longer rapists. You can let them go when you are ready”.

Karen and I made our apologies and left Maria and the Chief to enjoy the spectacle.

Maria was a frequent visitor to the hacienda and took part in castrations as often as she was able. Karen was coaching her in many techniques (I’m certain that she shared her bed with her) and Maria expressed a desire to become a Doctor too.

The results of the operation were a complete success. The crime rate dropped and the criminals either toed the line or got out of the district.

One thing that I mentioned above I need to explain. I said that all the men on the hacienda were eunuchs or about to become one. I’m a man and I’m included in that category.

I was the 217th patient that Karen worked on and she did a superbly neat job on me and completely to my satisfaction. I am a full nullo and I must confess, that was my intention all along. I’m still dominant and take male hormones to keep me masculine but due to the way the hormones operate, I’m not driven to have sex the way I was. Karen, Maria and I have all over sun tans and she calls me Uncle Nullo. It’s our little secret.