Joe and Zack

With their stomachs full until evening, the boys were looking for something to do. They considered the old stand-bys: going through the trash of the upper classes (which they had done yesterday), panning for gold dust in the sewers of the jewelers’ quarter (difficult with out a pan), stealing from the fruit market (a high-risk enterprise even if they were hungry), maybe just do what they usually do-- hang around one of the central fountains with all the other street boys. By mid morning the respectable folks had taken their drinking water for the day, and the fountain was taken over by livestock and street kids.

Something else came up that day.

An older boy named Paul came up to the boys while there were bathing. “Hey guys, you wanna see something?”

“What?” Joseph responded for the pair.

“Just com’on, or we’ll miss it.” Paul threatened. He glanced both ways, wondering if any of the other boys were paying attention, then started off. The boys looked at each other. Paul was never especially nasty to them in the past, and a week or so ago they gave him a shirt that they found in the rubbish, so they decided it wasn’t a trick. They slipped their old shirts over their nakedness and went after him.

“So where’re we going?” asked a panting Joseph when they had caught up with the older boy.

“The slave dealer down by the docks,” Paul responded and scurried ahead of them.

“Oh wow!” responded Zack.

“What?”

“Wait, you’ll see.” They weaved though the pedestrians and a quarter hour later caught up with Paul. Zack enthusiastically pushed himself into the gathering crowd, with Joseph close behind. They positioned themselves next to Paul and a number of other street-boys, all were pressed up against a chest-high stonewall. From there they looked down into a courtyard, ground level there was lower than that of the street, as the land sloped down to the nearby shore. From their vantage point the boys could see out to the sea, but also three naked boys about their age down against the opposite wall. Joseph and Zack were still young enough to get away with climbing upon and straddling the wall, Zack mounted just behind Joseph, with his hands on Joseph’s shoulders.

“What’s happening?” Joseph asked impatiently.

“Still waiting for the barber.” Paul responded tersely. Zack nodded knowingly and continued to examine the naked boys shuffling nervously.

“But why?”

Zack giggled. Paul explained.

“See those boys against the wall there?”

“Yeah.”

“The barber is going to geld them.”

“What’s that?”

“Cut their nuts off!” Zack announced, then turned around to face Joseph, his face animated.

“Why?” Joseph asked. Zack instinctively pulled one hand off Joseph’s shoulder to protect his crotch.

“Just like with bulls or stallions, to keep’um gentle.” Paul explained.

“Keep’um like girls!” Zack squeaked out.

“They should run.” Joseph advised his friends.

“That’s why we are here! Even if they could climb up the wall, we would just push them back.” Zack assured him.

A murmur came up in the crowd as a middle-aged man entered the courtyard from a side door and began talking to the man watching the boys. “The barber.”

The slaves became restless as the barber and the man inspected each boy carefully. The three boys became erect with the increasing attention from the crowd and the men down in the courtyard. Paul, Joseph and Zack got their best view of the process while the first boy was worked on: the man took careful hold of the small testicles and tugged down sharply. The barber then wrapped the leather thong around the top of the scrotum and made a half-knot. The barber placed one of the boy’s fingers against the knot. “Press here,” the barber ordered, and then he grabbed the ends of the thong while the barber grabbed the other. “One, two THREE.” He jerked the thong hard. “Press! Hold it, boy!” the man ordered the confused, fidgeting boy while the barber completed the square knot above the boy’s finger. With the balls trapped beneath the leather, the man pushed the boy’s finger off the knot and let the Barber pull the square knot tight. “Now don’t touch it.” Then another thong was produced and the boy’s hands were tied behind his back. The boy kept shuffling his feet, shifting his weight from leg to leg, looking up to the crowd then down at his feet again, red-faced. The crowd watched as, one by one, the barber and his employer worked in front of each boy, and when they stepped away everyone could see the ends of the leather thong hanging under small, erect penises. “Now be still. If you give us trouble, we will cut off your impudent, little dicks too.”

“Did you ever see this before?” Zack asked Joseph.

“No. But some guys once told me about it. Next they will bring one of them to the table below us.”

And just as Joseph predicted, the first boy tied was brought to the table. His hands were untied and only then did Zack and Joseph notice that straps were already attached to the legs. The boy was blond, a relative rarity. He was ordered up onto the table, close enough to let the audience see the few precocious hairs around the base of his erection. The boy’s wrists were tied to the corners of the table above his head, and then his legs spread so that they would fall over the sides, his ankles tied to the bottom of the table legs. Finally, a belt was brought from under the table and was buckled across the boy just below the navel. Zack and Joseph gave a small giggle as they watched the erection spasm when the barber brushed against it. Zack moved his arms around Joseph’s waist, and when he let them rest, he could feel the warm erection through the thin, second-hand tunic. Joseph didn’t seem to notice.

“Here it comes.” Paul whispered. Zack examined the discoloring scrotum and the expression of fear on the fidgeting boy. He slid himself up a little closer to Joseph, and then took a hand away from Joseph’s waist and soothed his own penis beginning to struggle against his tight foreskin. The other slave boys had moved as close to the table as they dared, in hopes of seeing their future.

Barbers must have sharp knives, so Joseph and Zack were both surprised at how much resistance the small scrotum provided. The barber worked up a fold of skin just under the knot and started. The moment he began sawing, the man was ready with a rag to stuff into the boy’s mouth before even half a scream could get out. All the muscles strained and the cords holding him tightened. The crowd went silent.

Suddenly the center belt popped loose. “Fight them, boy!” A man shouted out from the crowd, half in jest. Joseph laughed nervously. The man with the gag quickly leaned over and held down the boy’s struggling hips. The barber shook his head, and then he finished up, severing the small organs and tossing them between the table and the wall. Sometime during the process the boy’s erection shrank to a little button under the bloody flap of skin. The boy had spit out the rag and was whimpering, reflexively sucking in great gulps of air with each sob.

“That’s it,” Paul announced, “he’ll be gentle now.”

The new gelding was set lose and allowed to sit against the far wall, legs spread wide. One hand was attempting to cover his emasculation without actually touching it. The other boys were almost frozen in fear, looking up to the assembled crowd for help, but the men and boys above them were smiling and eager, not appalled. It was obvious that they had nowhere to go. The two men chose their next patient, a dark haired boy a little younger than the first, and with a smaller, now only half erect penis. The boy’s hands and ankles were tied as before, and only then did the men examine the broken belt in the center. The owner turned the strap over and over; muttering obscenities, while the boy on the table began to sob. The barber used the knife to point to where he suggested possible improvements to the buckle. With the other hand he absentmindedly took gentle hold of the small penis and began softly flicking at the tight tip of the foreskin with one finger. The erection returned and the boy calmed. Finally, the first man dropped the belt in disgust and looked up at the boys straddling the wall.

“You Boy! Come down here!” Zack was so shocked that he slung his leg over the wall and stood next to Paul. Joseph froze. “Come down here. Best view in the city!” Joseph giggled and looked at Paul, who shrugged. “Sit on the boy here, hold him down.” The barber was still soothing the soon-to-be eunuch. The crowd shouted encouragement, and Paul gently pushed him forward. The owner glanced over at the other slaves, and then came over just below Joseph, reached up and gently pulled on Joseph’s dusty foot. Joe grinned and lifted his other foot up onto the wall. His bent leg pushed the old shirt up against his belly and his stiff penis poked up to the sky. Some of the men around him burst out laughing before he realized what had happened. Joseph discretely slipped his shirt down again and climbed into the waiting slaver’s arms. The man was strong. Joseph held on to his shoulders. He spread his legs as the man hefted him over the waiting boy. His erection was distorting the thin cloth of his shirt, but everyone was laughing and so he didn’t care. His was now only inches from the pert, pale penis and strangled balls. He gave a big grin to the barber, who burst out laughing. “Hold him down,” he ordered, shaking his head and smiling. The barber took hold of the purple sack. He started the cut and the boy underneath Joseph jumped. “Hold him steady.” The barber got the cut started in a small fold of skin, then vigorously sawed into the helpless sack, pulling it away from the tight leather thong as he went. The boy struggled even after his organs were severed. There was little blood. Joseph grinned at the barber, who handed him the small, severed organs. He grinned again as he examined them, pink and bloody in his dark hand. He then grinned up at his friends, grinned at the crowd, and finally he climbed off the table and grinned at the horrified, wide-eyed, new eunuch. Joseph helped the barber untie the boy and bring him over to the far wall, and helped him bring the last boy back. He waved up at Zack, who had resumed his seat astride the wall, and handed the prize up for him and Paul to inspect. Zack was obviously jealous.

Joseph was soon on top of the last slave, and felt his balls against the warm, damp navel of the shivering boy. This boy had no erection, and the barber told Joseph to hold the soft flesh out of his way. They were still tying the boy down when he began a last, desperate struggle. One free arm got hold of Joseph’s shirt trying desperately to pull him off. Joseph began shouting obscenities and for a few moments his small erection was again on display as the men worked to regain control of the situation and the crowd hooted. A feral cat appeared on the wall, jumped down into the courtyard, and made a beeline to the severed balls the barber has tossed against the wall. It picked them up with his teeth and jumped through a small barred window and into the slaver’s dark shed. Joseph adjusted his torn shirt to cover his crotch.

“You should cut his dick off for that.” The men were angry too.

When Joseph went back to holding the penis the barber snapped, “No, leave it.” He reached into a bag hanging on his belt and brought out a small, silver sliver, and handed it to Joseph. “Hold it ready for me boy.” As soon as Joseph had it, the barber took the shrunken penis between thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and then swept the discolored balls into his fist with the remaining fingers. He stretched the organs away from the sweating, heaving body and started madly sawing into the soft, helpless penis. Blood, then urine squirted in front of Joseph’s eyes as the boy below him heaved. The knife was through the hapless penis, then the gray sack. Blood continued to spurt into the air as the barber dropped knife and severed genitals between the boy’s legs, grabbed the silver plug and pushed it into the boy just below the fountain of blood. Back into the bag he went and pulled out a wadded piece of cloth. He pressed it into the bleeding wound and ordered: “Press on it.” Joseph obeyed. The barber went to a small fire in the corner of the courtyard and came back with a hot poker. He ordered Joseph to pull the cloth away, and as soon as he did so, the barber applied the iron to the wound, and the boy heaved again. The bleeding was soon stopped. But the smell was too much for Joseph; he almost vomited his breakfast onto the courtyard floor. Joseph stumbled off the pale boy, who was motionless except for an irregular, heaving breath. He picked up the severed organ from between the boy’s legs. “Ha! That’s for ripping my shirt!” Joseph dangled the pale organ over the boy’s face. The crowd was laughing. There was a heavy hand on his shoulder. As he turned around, his grin turned to stunned silence as he saw his old master, the big, black, ship’s captain with his big, toothless grin.

“Little Joe, we meet again,” the man smiled at him. Joseph tried to bolt, but the men had him by his shirt, which tore away. Joseph had made only one step toward the high wall when they had him again.

“Run-away, huh?” The slaver grunted. Joseph struggled, he looked up at his friends on the wall, but they were doing nothing to help him.

“Stop struggling, boy, or you’ll be sorry!” the barber warned him.

“Let go!” Joseph continued to struggle as his old master worked with the other men to place him on the table. “I stopped to see what the crowd was about, and guess what I saw, my runaway cabin boy from WAY back!” The crowd could see what was about to happen, and obviously approved. First the men got his legs tied down, and then his arms.

The barber looked up to Joseph: “Why don’t we give his friend there a chance?”

“Who?” The captain asked.

“That white boy he came here with. What’s your name boy?” he shouted up.

“Zack, sir!”

“Come down here boy!” Zack thought for a moment, then grinned and jumped down on his own. Now it was Joseph’s turn. Zack stopped and stared into his best friend’s face for a long moment. Joseph gave a nervous laugh, he decided that the men were just teasing him. Zack then looked at the erection and tight balls underneath. “You didn’t tie them off!” He pointed out to the men. Zack gave Joseph some more reason to relax: they couldn’t cut him if they didn’t tie them off first! Right? He would have to go back to service on the ship, yes. But he knew they were just trying to scare him.

“Don’t need a thong. One cut, like the last boy got!” The captain ordered, and dropped a silver coin onto the table. The barber laughed and put the coin into his bag, then brought the bloody knife out again.

“Oh master, I’ll be good from now on! Please, master!” The crowd mocked him.

“Alright boy, up you go!” And the man lifted Joseph’s best friend up onto him. Joseph could feel Zack’s warm naked behind on his stomach, and the fuzzy balls. Zack let out a giggle, as Joseph tried to push him off with his hips.

“You won’t give any trouble now, will you?” the barber warned him. “You know what will happen!” The crowd laughed. Now Joseph couldn’t see past Zack’s back. The barber was doing something, but Joseph was sure that Zack would never just sit there and let them do that to his best friend. He knew he was fully erect, and couldn’t help but giggle realizing that the whole crowd was staring down at him. Then he felt a strange hand take hold of his testicles.

“Stop it! Zack, what are they doing?” Zack remained quiet. The captain was there too. He didn’t like that. He felt the leather thong go between his legs and under his balls. He tried to kick, but the restraints held. Zack quickly glanced over his shoulder and down at Joseph. He looked a little guilty.

“Zack, enough Zack!” The thong went oh so tight, forcing his tight balls away from the base of his erection. “Ouch!”

“Put your finger there, boy.” Joseph heard Zack giggle and felt the pressure of a finger between his balls and penis. It was beginning to dawn on Joseph that he might be in some real trouble. The pain in his crotch made him want to buckle over, but he was held in place. Then he felt an itchy, sting in one side of his sack. He realized what was happening at the same time that the itchy sting exploded, like someone had hit him in the balls with a bat, hard. He began to scream, to tell Zack to stop them. But as he opened his mouth to suck in breath the slaver behind his head did just what he did to the other boys, and stuffed a damp dirty rag into his mouth. Zack’s eyes filled with tears. He kicked and pulled as hard as he could on his arms, he tried to throw Zack off his stomach, but nothing worked, and the pain grew and grew. He tried his restraints again and rocked his head from side to side to distract from the flood of pain. Finally Zack was pulling himself off the table, grinning sheepishly at him. They had tricked him somehow, just hit him there to make him think they castrated him. But they hit him too hard! Zack had something in his blood-streaked hand. It was the balls of one of the slave boys. It was the balls and sack he tossed up to them just moments before. But then he saw that the sack was not pale like those other boys, but ebony, like his. The captain was grinning at him too, that stupid, toothless grin he remembered. He started wailing.

The captain, laughing, gave Joseph his freedom as he was being untied, he didn’t need a recovering boy on ship, he said he just wanted Joseph to be a warning to other slaves who would run away. The barber and slaver lifted him up over the wall to Paul and some of the other street boys. A dozen boys-- all witnesses to his emasculation-- helped him waddle back to their favorite neighborhood fountain, where they all excitedly told everyone else the story. And the proof was right there in Zack’s hands, and under a nearby shade tree. Joseph didn’t even have a shirt to cover up his wound. But the boys saved a little food for him every day, and soon someone came up with a shirt, and Zack, feeling guilty about all the fun he had, kept the wound clean until the excess scrotum dried and the thong fell off. After a month or so Joseph had made-up with his best friend, and soon forgotten the worst of the pain. They went back to their old routine, and could often be seen on the streets with arms slung over each other’s shoulders, or hand in hand.