Steve

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Steve was a rather quiet sort, not asocial, but not terribly outgoing. It wasn’t that he disliked people; it was just that he felt so awkward in meeting them, and maintaining friendships. When he did make friends, it was seldom that he felt close to them. There was a reason for this: he didn’t feel as though he was worthy of being accepted for himself, and so seldom trusted others to accept him either.

From an early age, Steve was a very feeling boy. Emotions were, however, a dangerous thing to him. Should there be a time when Steve felt hurt or dejected, and felt like crying, he dare not. If he did, and has father saw it, or caught wind of it, there was hell to pay. Called “sissy” and “little cunt” while getting whipped with a belt for crying was enough to quickly dry up any further tears.

Instead, rather than take the risk of showing feelings, Steve would repress them, and he would stay away from other people lest, for some reason, they should “leak” out and get him another beating. He grew to fear others for their perceptions of him, but of course very stoically showed nothing – fear was another taboo emotion.

It seemed like the only thing that it was OK for Steve to feel was anger. And did he have a lot of it – accumulated as a result of repeated whippings in the name of discipline, and living in fear of his father. Even mom provided no respite; she sided with dad, or turned a blind-eye to the violence.

Having been raised with violence, there was little else that Steve knew. From an early age, he learned that one got his way by being a bully, by being the strongest, by fighting and winning at any cost, by just plain being an angry son-of-a-bitch. He was good at it too. Hell, dad even taught him how to fight and fight “dirty.” He would say to Steve that the only reason to fight was to win, that there was no such thing as a fair fight, and one must use any means available to win, no matter what.

At school Steve was known for being a hot-headed “scrapper,” one who would fight anyone, any size, any time, especially if they got too close to him, or if they invaded his aloneness, his zone of safety. Safety was paramount; if others became too close, his secrets – that he would cry or get scared – would come tumbling out. As a result there were many bruises and contusions, some broken bones, and several suspensions from school – for both Steve and for several others.

Steve was also a very intelligent boy, despite the fact that his dad always told him that he was stupid. He always said that he had to use the principle of KISS – Keep It Simple for Stupid (Steve). As a result, Steve had a strong tendency to live down to the expectations of him. He would study the things that he liked and ignore the rest, particularly anything that required mental exercise.

Such was the background that Steve brought to the burgeoning growth of puberty, starting around the age of 11 or 12. Suddenly he started to get hair in places it had never been before. His feet just got terribly big – size 10 at the age of 12; he got a beating for it too. It cost too much money to keep buying shoes that he would outgrow in just months. Clothing would be put on the wayside just as quickly. Everything grew, why even his penis.

How he hated it – everything changing, being blamed for everything, getting hit for it, and he couldn’t stop it. He learned from his teacher that all the changes of puberty started as the result of his testicles producing a hormone called testosterone. And that it wouldn’t stop left him feeling utterly impotent – not an unknown feeling for Steve. As a result it came to be little wonder that Steve learned to hate his testicles, to hate the hair that was there, to hate everything about changing.

About this time, Steve also found that certain people sexually attracted him, and he felt all kinds of strange stirrings and feelings. His friend Dougie, for instance, a very good looking blonde boy of Croat descent, who was Steve’s age, stirred such lust for him that he grew afraid that Dougie would reject him.

He wanted to do things that he had never done before. He wanted to touch Dougie’s penis, see what it looked like when it got stiff; he wanted to touch his so perfect little butt. Steve mostly wanted to kiss his friend of several years, not once, but often. He felt like he was in love. When Steve’s feelings shone through so as to become a bit obvious to others, he was called a “faggot” and was shunned. His worst fears were confirmed when the rejection came from Dougie; it hurt terribly.

At the age of 13, to be so rejected was the epitome of pain. But, true to his upbringing, Steve reacted emotionally to the situation the same as he had for it seemed like forever. He withdrew, getting even more isolated, and became angry, almost hateful toward his former friend. But as hateful as he became, he would not hit or hurt him. He was saving that for later. Meanwhile, there were many fantasies of just what Steve could and would do to Dougie. They were intensely fed and gratified by the masturbation that Steve had learned.

Finally, there was such a rage upon him, that it felt like Steve was bursting at the seams. That little son-of-a-bitch had rejected him, and was going to finally pay for it. Steve was well aware of Dougie’s habits and likes, having hung around with him for several years. He knew, for instance, that Dougie liked to go skinny-dipping in the lake at a place called “hidden beach,” so called because it was out of the way and people seldom went there.

It was a good place for an ambush, and Dougie was smaller than Steve by four inches and about 20 pounds lighter. Knowing that on a hot summer afternoon, he would want to go swimming, Steve headed for Hidden Beach. It was convenient that most of Dougie’s friends were off and away for the weekend. Steve hung around just waiting and swimming, clothes hung on a nearby tree.

As predicted, Dougie showed up to swim. He didn’t seem to mind or be bothered by the fact that the “faggot” was there. There wasn’t a great deal of talk between them. At the same time, Steve was trying to gear up his courage to do what he had in mind to do. Finally, having tired of swimming, Dougie left the water and so did Steve. Steve came up behind Dougie, grabbed him around the neck and chest, and threw him to the ground, and promptly sat right down on him, pinning him, making him defenseless.

Dougie, all of five feet and six inches tall, maybe 110 pounds, couldn’t do a thing, and he knew it. He also knew that Steve had a terrible temper, and knew better than to aggravate him. So he did not struggle. He did, however, have the nerve to ask what was going on. Steve, all that anger, and hurt, and rejection pouring out of him, started to hit Dougie several times in the face and on the sides of his head, yelling, “Don’t you know I love you?” and “Why didn’t you care?” There was little fight in Dougie – he wasn’t a violent sort, and Steve had taken any resistance right out of him.

After this short outburst, Dougie’s face was not in very good condition, and he was definitely seeing some stars. He was willing to do whatever Steve told him to do. Steve released Dougie’s arms, and got up off him, straddling him with his knees. His penis was so hard and throbbing so much it felt like it could have burst. Steve told Dougie to turn over and be quick about it. He did!

Now Steve could do what he had always wanted to right along. He slowly caressed Dougie’s back, legs, and buttocks. All the while Dougie just lay there allowing it to happen, his body slightly trembling in fear. Steve thought it was because Dougie enjoyed the sensation of being stroked. Preliminaries done, Steve got himself in place and attempted to mount Dougie, but quickly ran into resistance, not from Dougie, but from dry skin.

Dougie told him to spit in his hand and rub it on his dick, and it would go in. His brother did it to him sometimes. Steve did so, and quickly and without care for Dougie’s discomfort, shoved his penis fully into the waiting boy’s butt. Quickly he fucked him, and in what seemed like about ten seconds, blew a huge load of cum up Dougie’s ass, fueled by all the sexualized tension of his anger and frustration at being rejected.

Still not satisfied, Steve told Dougie to turn over, once again straddling and pinning him. Anger and frustration was coming out and it was not going to stop. The hurt that was motivating it sprang from a very deep well, and once tapped, there was no stopping it. Steve quickly placed his hands around Dougie’s neck, his thumbs squarely on his windpipe. Savagely, he asked Dougie if he was now prepared to die. Dougie just lay there and Steve began to strangle him. Instinctively, Dougie reacted with resistance and his body’s desire to live, but to little avail.

Outweighed and severely beaten down, there was little resistance left, and it was only a matter of minutes before Dougie laid there, Steve’s hands around his neck, lifeless. Slowly coming back to some sense of normalcy, Steve realized what he had done, and thinking to cover his tracks, he pulled Dougie’s body into the lake and turned it face down. Hopefully that would make it look like he drowned, of course not realizing that an autopsy would easily tell otherwise.

Steve simply kept quiet about what had happened, saying nothing to anyone. He was severely disturbed by what he had done, but was afraid that he would, himself, be killed if the police found him out. It was only a matter of time, however, and the police were at the door, questioning all of Dougie’s friends and classmates. Steve’s demeanor gave him away, and the police pressed him hard, and he broke down in tears, confessing to everything.

The press and the public were stupefied by just what the world was coming to when 14-year-old children were committing murder. For that matter, Steve was stupefied by everything that was happening to him. At first he was held in isolation at a juvenile detention center, kept from all the other kids lest he “contaminate” them or possible become angry enough to attempt to kill again.

Within a matter of weeks, the courts decided that he should be treated and tried as an adult, since there were no suitable facilities available to handle a case such as this one. The minimum age limit was fourteen to do this, and Steve had turned fourteen a mere 5 weeks before the murder. As a result of this decision, Steve was transferred to the county jail were he endured for a period of two months while his case was being decided. In the end, at the advice of his attorney and his dad, Steve pleaded guilty to third degree murder. He was sentenced to a period of 0-25 years in the state prison.

While sitting confined in the county jail and later on in the state prison, Steve often reflected upon his desire that puberty had never happened, that he had never changed, and that he would not now be where he was because of his feelings for Dougie. He grew to just absolutely hate his testicles, even while they gave him much pleasure in his feelings toward other men. And in prison there were plenty of other men who were interested in him. And he didn’t need testicles for that.

Over the next five years while Steve was held in the prison, he was frequently the subject of several sexual affairs, all willingly consummated. It was always amazing to him how many people “liked” him and thought he was good-looking, and who wanted to have sex with him. He was able to pick and choose whom he wanted and did so, and when he did not choose someone, the others protected his choice, and made the rejected one leave him alone.

Steve’s hatred of his testicles, however, never diminished, and he eventually came to believe, and reinforce with masturbation, that he deserved to have his testicles cut off because of his rape of Dougie. It was compounded by the fact that he also believed that he deserved to die because of the murder, but never had the courage to take his own life, since the state would not.

Hatred of his testicles did not, however, diminish the feelings that he had for others. He routinely became sexually involved, on the “receiving end,” with others, while in the prison. Eventually, the parole board decided that because of his young age at the time of his crime, Steve had probably outgrown any propensity toward a repeat offense. They relied upon the false premise, then believed, that murderers almost never re-offend. In any case, he was paroled at the age of nineteen, in time to fit right in attending university, which he did.

School was proceeding well, and while Steve did not interact well with others (his social skills being rather crude), he did manage a small number of sexual liaisons. Ultimately, about two years out of prison, at the age of twenty-one, Steve managed to become involved with a young lad, recently turned 16. The boy and Steve engaged in a sexual relationship of mutual satisfaction for about two months, before things went awry.

They would frequently provide each other with oral sex, and Alan, the 16-year-old, would have anal sex with Steve. On occasion, Steve liked to do the same to Alan, especially since Alan’s anus was located significantly lower than normal, and Steve could penetrate him face to face with little difficulty.

One day, however, Steve’s fantasy of finally having someone in his life that he could love came to an end. Alan, capricious as many youth can be, decided to exploit the age difference between the two of them. He threatened to turn Steve over to the police as a statutory rapist and pedophile. Steve did not know that the law provided that consent was legal at the age of 16, and that he could not be prosecuted. Knowing what prison was like, Steve reacted with great fear and anger.

A near repeat performance of Dougie happened, Steve trussing Alan up with some cord, raping him, and then attempting to strangle Alan. Steve then let Alan go free. Of course, it was only a matter of hours before the police were knocking at Steve’s door, arresting him for attempted murder.

In light of his previous record, Steve was slapped with a twenty-year sentence, and told he was going to serve all of it less good time. In the end, he served out approximately 13 years in a variety of prisons in the state. He was known as the “boy raper,” and was much abused, taunted, and occasionally assaulted, and a few times nearly raped himself. All the while his determination that he had to be castrated nagged at him, although never enough to stop his masturbation. Of course masturbation was often themed on the premise of being castrated for raped, and hanged for murder.

Of course, neither thing was done; there were no provisions in the law for it. But Steve did pay for his crime, serving an excess of time, not because of his singular offense, but because of his propensity toward violence, especially sexual violence. He did indeed serve out his full sentence, being released with no holds upon him.

After his release, Steve’s life was a series of meaningless dead-end jobs, often ending upon discovery of his record, or his becoming angry at someone, often the supervisor or employer. Aside from drifting from job-to-job, he would also drift from one sexual liaison to another, showing no stability or desire for a relationship, fearing that it would end like all the others. He lived with his guilt and his belief that he should have been castrated and executed. Despite the fact that he believed it himself, it hurt him that others agreed with him. It would be ultimate rejection from the whole of society.

There occurred one more situation, a rape, which took place after another rejection. Steve was so stoned on pot and drunk that he claimed that he couldn’t even remember the details of the event, although he was sure it happened.

Around this time there was a particularly brutal case of child-rape, which had occurred in Dallas, Texas, and had made national headlines when the defendant asked to be castrated. The judge seriously considered it, and in the meantime, a Dallas-area surgeon offered to castrate the man, or any man for that matter, who commits rape. Ultimately, of course, the court rejected the notion of castration for the Texas defendant, but not before a seed was planted.

Steve tracked down the address and telephone number of the surgeon who had offered to castrate rapists, and called him. The surgeon did not believe the request by Steve for castration was real and challenged him to provide a record sheet and case file. Easily produced, Steve mailed them to the doctor, and called him a week later. The doctor said that if Steve could get there he would be happy to castrate him.

A date for the procedure was set, and Steve drove virtually around the clock across country to be in Dallas at the appointed time. Indeed, not only did Steve intend that his desire be satisfied, so also did the doctor. An in-office procedure was conducted, taking all of an hour. A while later, Steve slowly walked out of the surgeon’s office, castrated. The source of all his real and imagine troubles since the age of 12 having been removed once and for all.

Shortly after his return trip home, Steve came to clinical attention after his doctor referred him to psychiatric help. Steve had become rather psychotic, occasionally losing touch with reality, often living in a state of impotent fear of others, unable to function well at all. He lived with the belief that his castration was a penance that he had to pay for what he did, and functioned as though it were imposed involuntarily.

After a period of four years of therapy and the use of several psychiatric drugs, Steve is now able to hold a job, and function somewhat normally on his own. He gets a great deal of supervision from social services. But, he is not raping anyone, anymore, and most of all, he got his long held wish to be castrated.