|
It was early on a Friday night. Erik hadn't had anything else to do that night, so put on his vinyl riding gear, hopped on his crotch rocket and headed on down to the biker bar. Erik had gotten into motorcycles pretty recently and really wanted to be a 'real' biker guy. He was pretty good on his bike, but not great yet, and even though he sometimes got some shit from the Harley guys for his bike, he was starting to get comfortable drinking down at the local rough-and-tumble watering hole. A gang of about ten guys were gearing up to leave as he pulled up next to them. Cruisers and hawgs, mostly - lots of black leather, noserings, and tattoos. Their leader was a tall, powerfully built guy in a tight black t-shirt, jeans, boots, and dark sunglasses, with shaggy black hair and a handlebar moustache. His arms and neck were covered in tattoos, and when he bent over a bit, all the skin Eric could see had something inked on it as well. Like the rest of them, he had a thick septum ring handing from his nose. Erik, on the other hand, was tall, slender but muscular, blonde, and had a boyish grin that charmed any girl he'd ever turned it towards. In his red and white gear on his cherry red ride, he looked sorely out of place next to this gang. Still, ever fearless, he parked next to the leader, and hopping off his bike asked, "Where you guys headed tonight?" The leader looked over at him, down at his bike, back up at him, and sneered. "Don't think you wanna know, boy." The other guys chuckled. This was the shit that pissed Erik off - this freakish caste system based on your ride. "Fuck off then, man. Just tryin' to be friendly." He locked up his bike and slipped his keys into his pocket. The leader laughed. "Maybe he's got some balls after all," he chuckled, laughing with his boys. Erik boxed in his free time and was not lacking in confidence, if maybe he was in judgement. He puffed his chest and and snarled, "Any time you want, buddy." "HAH HAH HAH HAH HAHahaha hahah hah...heh, heh heh ha ha ha..." the gang laughed uproriously at this one. "All right, boy, you're...heh, heh...on," the leader chortled. "You wanna prove yourself? Just try and keep up." He kicked his starter and the gang's bikes roared to life. Erik whipped his keys back out and started up his bike as fast as he can. The gang was already fifty yards down the road by the time he started moving. He followed them back out onto the highway, and they sped as fast as they could down the twists and turns. It was all Erik could do to keep up. Even though he had the faster bike, they were better riders, and a few times they nearly lost him. After twenty minutes they turned off the highway onto some back country road and sped down the dirt into the woods. Erik had no idea where he was, and it was pitch black by this point. He could see lights up ahead through the trees and the sounds of partying...this could be really cool, he thought...an outlaw biker party or something. He could handle this. Erik pulled up about thirty seconds behind the gang, who by that point had parked and were hopping off their bikes. The leader stepped off his bike as Erik approached. "Welcome to the party, boy," he greeted him as he turned off the bike and hopped to his feet. He took off his helmet and looked around. There had to be at least a hundred bikes parked out here already on a gravel drive. Behind it was a large barn - the size of a gymnasium - and he could see lights through the cracks in the boards and hear the sounds of partying. A few outlying buildings had lights coming out of them as well, and more bikers were arriving by the minutes. All male, Erik noticed... "Time ta get initiated," the leader smiled, somebody held a hankerchief over his face. When he woke up, Erik discovered that he'd been stripped naked and tied spread-eagled to a table or bench or something. The bikers had stripped down themselves; some had been wearing leather harnesses or jocks under their clothing; some kept their jeans or wife-beaters on, two, including the leader, went fully nude but for boots. As Erik's vision went from double to single he focused in on them standing around, talking. They seemed to be arguing about something...these guys were all pretty well-built, he noted...this was almost kinda hot. Never felt like that 'bout guys before... Something was wrong with them, though...it took him a minute to figure out what it was. The leader guy, he didn't have a dick. His balls were there, shaven bald, but above them was just a tiny little stub that skin had grown over. All of the other guys he could see were like that too...balls hanging low but not a dick in the crowd. Those who were shirtless were also lacking in nipples, with little scars where they would have been, but no areolas or teats at all. Erik suddenly got really nervous. He glanced down at himself and with relief saw that his cock, although shaven bald, was still attached, and nipples still rock hard in the cool air. He struggled weakly against the ropes, and blushed when his already half-stiff cock grew harder at the feel of the cool air on it. "What are you gonna...do to me?" he muttered, trying to look defiant. "Ah, he's awake," the leader smiled. "Well, you wanna be a real biker so bad, we thought we'd give you the chance, boy." "Why am I...where are your...oh..." Erik's head hurt. "Why leave him anything?" the argument resumed. Erik could hear it more clearly this time. "He rides a sport bike, man." "We gotta leave him something," another voice answered. "Leave him his balls." "Nah, we'll leave him something," the leader ended the argument. "But not his balls. Get the knife. Joey. Up on him." Somebody handed the leader guy a knife with a wire coming out of it. He flipped a switch and after a few moments the edge of it started to glow red, then white. That was all Erik could see before one of the biker dudes who had stripped down hopped up and straddled his chest. The guy leaned over Erik's face on all fours and shoved his crotch into Erik's face. "Lick it, boy," the guy told him, rubbing his hard little stub on Erik's lips. Erik had little choice; the guy was practically forcing it into his mouth. Behind the guy he could feel the leader and others manipulating his smoothly shaven cock, running their fingers across it. Sometimes he could feel the heat of the cautery blade come near it, then go back away. "This is only gonna hurt a little bit," he heard the leader say. Erik felt him grab his whole package and pulled it sharply away from his body. Erik struggled. "Nrmph!" he attempted to shout, trying to get away, but with no chance of doing so. "Tha more ya struggle tha more it's gonna hurt," the leader said paternally. He repositioned the blade, and Erik froze as he felt the white-hot heat on his taint. His cock was rock-hard. "Yeah, shut up and suck it," the guy shoving his crotch into Erik told him. They're gonna cut my dick off! he screamed inside his head. My balls! No! He struggled anyway, right up until he felt the heat as the blade passed through his tissue like a hot knife through butter. The pain was momentarily intense, searing, but quickly passed. They didn't cut my dick off...they didn't cut my dick off...he panted, then grew angry again..."You cut my balls off!" he screamed inbetween thrusts. The leader was holding up Erik's cock by the head with two fingers, still rock hard, and looking at the underside of it where his balls had been. Hidden from Erik's view, he raised the knife again, and swiped right through his dick about an inch from his groin. Erik didn't say anything, but just kept licking, finally resigned to his fate. At least he wasn't bleeding...the head from the knife cauterized everything. The guy on his face hopped off, giving Erik a look at himself...It just looked like he had a nasty black scab on the end of his...stump. The leader stood up, still holding Erik's dick by the head. "There we go. A nice little stump for the sport bike boy to piss from." The other guys laughed. The leader tossed Erik's cock over to another gang member, who dropped it in a bucket, then picked up Erik's balls. He squeezed Erik's testicles loose from his scrotum, tossed the empty skin to the ground, and lifted one nut up over his mouth like a piece of popcorn. He dropped it into his mouth, and swalled it whole. "Meaty," he joked, and raised the other one above his head, then swalled it like the other one. Erik just watched as the man who'd unmanned him ate his testicles. He felt strange...heady. His groin didn't really hurt that much; it more stung than anything...the nerves must have been shut down from the heat, he thought... He still felt horny, and really kinda...good. Who needed a dick anyway? These guys were real bikers, and they obviously didn't need theirs... One of the guys slipped a straw down Erik's pisshole and taped a bandage to it. "Untie him," the leader ordered the men. Even freed from his bondage, Erik didn't move...he didn't really feel like it. They could do anything to him that they wanted, and they did. He was like a rag doll as they held his head tightly and pushed a needle through his nose, piercing his septum like theirs were, said nothing as they cut out his nipples with the cautery knife, and made no attempt to resist as they lay him back down on the table, lubed up what looked like a plastic tube, and pressed it into his ass. Erik was disconnected from the world during this, focusing his attention entirely inward. Am I still a man? he wondered. My cock and balls are gone...how can I be? he thought to himself, not even feeling the pain as his nose was pierced. But why did he feel so good...so horny? So...masculine? He never felt as, well, manly, as empowered as he did right then. These men weren't mutilating him...why would they have cut their own dicks off if they didn't think it was a good thing? As they sliced his nipples from his chest, pulled the skin shut, and superglued it back together, Erik felt it but didn't react at all. Fine, so I'm not a man anymore, he concluded. I'm something different. I don't need a cock or balls...or nipples... to feel good. These guys want me to be something like them, then I want what they want...whatever that turns out to be. When they spread his legs and pushed the ass stretcher in, he didn't fight it at all. I think I even like this better, Erik thought. What great guys for doing this for me...everybody ought to do this. He grunted as they pushed the stretcher all the way in, and let out a little urp as the bulb locked it into place. "Hey, um," Erik finally spoke as they let go of his legs. "I just want to say...uh...thanks, I guess." The leader looked at his handiwork and smiled. "Looks like we're ready to party!" Inside the barn was a madhouse. It stank of sweat and the air was hot and sticky, sweat, spit and cum everywhere. Guys in various states of dress - jeans, leather, nothing at all - were talking, drinking, laughing, fucking...it was an orgy with an open bar. Naked guys in dark bike helmets worked the bar, and tables were set up around the room with various things going on. Erik and, well, his gang, weren't the only ones missing something. It seemed like most of the guys in here were missing balls, cocks, cockheads, nipples...there weren't that many at all that didn't have something removed. It looked like only maybe two-thirds of them had anything more than a stump, and at least half of those had just left an inch or two more of trunk. "Over this way, crotch rocket," the leader referred to him, and Erik demurely followed as they pushed their way into the crowd. Along the way Erik saw men doing things he had no idea men could do to each other, rimming, fucking, sucking, fisting, stabbling, choking...all kinds of crazy shit. They paused briefly to watch a muscleboy loose his cock, then continued on until they found an empty table. "Up on the table, boy," the leader ordered him. Erik did so, a little nervous and a little excited. The leader snapped a metal collar around his neck and chained him to the table, then had him stand up on top of it with him. "Gentlemen!" he announced to the room. "We caught ourselves a young 'un. He rides a sport bike, but he just got cut so take it easy on him. Enjoy." Erik blushed, and felt both pleased and a little threatened by some of the leers he got. He felt very naked. It was a feeling he didn't have to worry about for long, as within moments of the leader hopping down off the table, hands were all over him, and he had a cock in his ass and one in his mouth. He couldn't see anything but skin, hair and muscle as any guy in the vicinity used him as he pleased. Erik was drunk with pleasure. He couldn't even think straight as he orgasmed over and over again, pumping cum out the little straw and out onto the table with alarming force. It wasn't long before his endurance was gone, and again he was nothing but a rag doll to whatever man came over to use him. He passed out twice over the course of the evening, just tired, and at no point did that stop anybody from screwing him. Finally, after hours, it seemed like people were leaving. He could hear bikes motoring away outside and the sky outside the door was turning grey. One of the gang members came over and pulled the collar off him. The skin under it was pretty much the only part of him not soaked in sweat and/or cum, and his skin was sticky with it. "Come on, sport bike!" the guy told him. They led him outside, where some guys were hosing down other ones. The gang was already dressed and standing around in their leathers. Somebody pushed him under the hose, and Erik used his hands to wipe away as much of the goo as he could. Once out of it, they dried him off and replaced his bandages. Erik looked around, but the gang was nowhere to be seen...they'd left while he was getting hosed off. It looked like only a few people were still here, and the sun was coming up. "Ummm...does anybody have anything I could wear home?" he asked, timidly. The others just laughed. "Nope. Better get home fast 'fore the sun's all the way up." "I don't even know where I am!" "Just head down that road till you hit the highway," they laughed at him. His cheeks burning, Erik angrily stomped over to his bike to find the keys in the ignition. He started it up and tore out of there as fast as he could. Gotta get home quick, he thought. Not only am I naked, but... He glanced down at himself. His new little stub poked right into the seat at just the perfect angle that it lay flat against it. Hey, he thought...that feels pretty good. Suddenly it dawned on him. That's why they cut their dicks off...man, this feels awesome! Erik tossed his head back and hit the throttle, every little bump on the road sending pleasure up through the seat and into his stub. A few miles down the road he realized where he was. The sun was up over the horizon now...shit, he thought. I'm so gonna get caught...it would take him at least fifteen minutes to get home! He gunned it and took backroads whenever possible, and right as he turned onto his road, the blare of a siren came from behind him, and red and blue flashing lights shone from behind. "Shit." Erik pulled over and checked his rearview mirror. A bike cop. How ironic. He tried to position himself so his groin wouldn't show to bad, and covered it with his hands as he sat there, ass out for the world to see. At least nobody was out driving...good thing it's Saturday. He watched the cop approach him in his mirror. Freakin' stereotype, Erik thought...moustache, mirrored lenses...pretty buff...hey, he's kinda hot, Erik realized. Maybe if I let him fuck me... "Dismount the bike, sir," the cop told him. Crap. Erik hesitated for a moment, panicking. "Dismount, sir," the cop said, more firmly. Erik slowly got off his bike and turned around, covering his groin with this hands. "Stand up straight and put your hands behind your head." "Please, sir..." he started to protest. Quick as a flash, the cop whipped out his pistol, cocked it, and pointed it at Erik. "Stand up straight and put your hands behind your head!" Erik nearly wet himself but did it. He winced, afraid of the inevitable question, shrieking...arrest...like this...oh, god, he thought. Jail would not be fun for me. Instead, all he heard was a chuckle. "Don't worry, sport bike, you can put your hands down." Erik opened his eyes. "Huh?" The cop just smiled, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down. No cock. No balls. Just a stub, same as him. "You don't think anybody could possible pull off a party like that without us bein' involved, do ya?" Erik smiled. "Uh...heh...I guess not, sir." "Now get home 'fore somebody sees ya. And don't let yer nose git infected." He reached into an nostril and flipped down a little u-shaped septum retainer. "And buy a real bike." The cop sped off, and Erik just climbed back on, started his bike up, and headed down the road, pushing his stump into the seat. Maybe he did need a different bike. These crotch rockets...they were fast, but the ride was just...too smooth. He smiled. Guess they turned me into a real biker after all... |