A Story fo BBoy

I was always fascinated by my penis. Even as a toddler I would sit down on the floor, pull down my diaper and start playing with it. My mother, uptight bitch that she was, would punish me when she caught me. She would slap my hands with a ruler, and, occasionally pop my little penis with it. Some of my earliest memories are of my mother telling me, “No! Don’t touch it! It’s Bad! Only bad boys play with themselves.”

Her punishment didn’t have the effect that she wished. I became even more obsessed with my little cock. I just learned to be more secretive about playing with it. Of course I still got caught. I just couldn’t leave it alone. Even as I got older, my mother would slap my hands with her ruler and usually always gave the head of my cock a pop or two with the ruler. My hands hurt like hell afterwards. I didn’t like that part of the punishment at all, but the pop on my little cock excited me.

After I started to school, I became better at hiding my obsession from my mom. I hated to have my hands slapped with that ruler, but once in a while I would deliberately let her see me so that she would pop my dick with the ruler. I got into trouble at school, too. I was always finding a way to rub my cock through my pants while I was in class. The boys would tease me and the girls would snigger behind their hands. When the teacher reported my behavior to my mom, she really blew her top. She stripped off my pants and whipped me with a belt, striking me, not only on my butt, but also on my cock and balls.

The beating was severe. I still have marks on my butt and back from it. It didn’t stop me from playing with my cock, but I no longer did it when anyone could see me. If I was at school, I would wait until I went the boy’s room. I probably spent more time in there than any other five boys put together. I guess, by this time, I’d come to love and hate my dick at the same time. I couldn’t leave it alone, but I started having fantasies about what it would be like to have it cut off. Sometimes I would even get a knife and make little cuts on it. They were little more than scratches, but when they bled, I would get the blood on my finger and then lick it.

My mother was so afraid that I would play with my cock, that I wasn’t allowed to close the bathroom door all the way when I had to go. I never knew when she might barge in on me, so I usually just did my business and came out as soon as I was through. Although I could play with it at night in bed after everyone had gone to bed, there wasn’t really any place at home where I could do it. Luckily there were some woods not far from my house. I made myself a little fort that was hidden by some bushes. That’s where I would go to play with myself. I’d lie on an old blanket that I had taken from my house. I’d pull my pants all the way off and begin caressing my cock. This was before puberty, but my little cock would get hard and I would have what I guess was kind of a climax. My body would kind of get stiff all over, then I would start shuddering and thrusting my pelvis. Nothing would come out of my penis, but it still felt good. Then I would start feeling guilty, so I would pick up a stick and hit my cock on its head. It hurt, but in a weird, good, sort of way.

The older I got, the more worried that my mom became about my masturbating. She kept saying, “If you play with it, you’ll go crazy.” I don’t know how many times I heard, “If you play with it, you’ll go crazy.”

I couldn’t stop, though. Even if it were going to make me crazy, I couldn’t leave it alone. I began to imagine what it would be like to drop my pants and for there to be nothing there, to reach down and feel nothing but smooth skin.

Changes started happening to my body. To both my delight, and dismay, my dick got larger, and hair began growing in around it. Now, when I played with it there would sometimes be a little clear, sticky, fluid that would come out the end. One night when I was lying in bed pulling on it, a tension started building up in my body. I was arching my back, thrusting my pelvis up off the bed. The tension was becoming unbearable when suddenly my penis began pumping, spurting a hot sticky fluid all over my stomach, my chest, and clear up onto my face. It seemed to go on forever, maybe because, for an instant, time ceased to have any meaning. The world ceased to exist. All there was, was orgasm, my cum squirting forth from my cock.

I lay there for a moment, cum dripping from my face, pooling in my belly button. I could feel it running down my side onto the bed. The orgasm was the most exquisite experience that I ever felt, but it frightened me so. Because I had been transported out of my everyday existence during that orgasm, I thought that my mother’s warning had come through. I had gone crazy! I jumped from my bed, naked as I was and ran downstairs, cum dripping from me as I ran. I ran through the kitchen, opened the drawer, grabbed a butcher knife and ran on to the bathroom. I slammed the door, turned on the light, and looked down at my evil penis, that organ that had betrayed me so often, the cause of so much pain, punishment, and...pleasure. I grabbed it by the head, pulled it straight out from my body, and with one stroke, sliced it off. The pain was unbelievable, and blood spurted from it all over the toilet and the floor. I threw it into the toilet and flushed it. My cock had its first and...last orgasm.

As I watched my cock swirl around the toilet, round and around the whirlpool that was forming as the water went down, the door to the bathroom suddenly opened. My mother stood there looking at me, at my bloody crotch where my cock used to be. There wasn’t even a stump. I had chopped it off flush with my belly. My last memories were of my cock disappearing down the toilet, and the shocked look on my mother’s face. I fainted.

I woke up in the hospital two days later. I had lost so much blood that I almost died. I guess I was in surgery for several hours while they completed what I had started. Since my penis was now floating somewhere in the sewer, there was nothing for them to reattach. They had to remove the rest to be able to tie off the blood vessels. They relocated my urethra to a point between my balls and my ass. They were able to save my balls. I had sliced open my scrotum when I cut off my dick, but hadn’t hit my testicles or their cords.

I spent weeks in the hospital, but being young, healed. I guess that I would look a little strange to most people. Most of the scars are now hidden by my bush. If you look at my front, all one can see is my bush, below which hangs my scrotum with two balls. Since my pee hole is between my balls and my anus, I now have to sit down like a girl to pee, only I have to reach down, grab hold of my balls, and pull them up out of the way to keep from urinating all over them.

Although, my mother would never had admitted it, I think she was glad that I had cut off my cock. My father had left her before I was born, and I think that she hated all men. She probably would have liked to cut off all our cocks. She was much nicer to me now that I had no cock. She no longer had to yell at me about playing with it. Although, she would have probably liked to have turned me into a girl, I still had balls and the hormones that balls produce. I might not have had a cock, but, in every other way, I was still a boy. I had never felt like a girl, nor wanted to be one.

At first things were easier for me. I had no cock to feel guilty about. I would find my hand going to my crotch, only to be shocked for a minute to encounter nothing but my bush. It felt pleasant to rub my bush and to lift, to jiggle, my balls, but there was no real sensation. There was no cock tissue left, nothing at my crotch to get hard or to feel any sensation. The first couple of years weren’t too bad. I was just eleven and had just begun puberty when I cut off my cock. By the time I was fourteen, however, the pressure was beginning to build. Testosterone was bringing me to a sexual peak. One night while I was asleep I was dreaming, as I often did, that I still had a cock, and was playing with it. This time, though, I had an orgasm, the second orgasm in my young life. It felt different, even in the dream, but it was still great. As I awoke from the dream I could feel the wet sticky cum running down my ass and over the underside of my balls. The pressure had built up on my prostate until it had convulsed, spurting the excess out my pee hole.

This time I didn’t feel guilty about my orgasm. I had spent over a year in therapy after I cut off my cock. I had come to realize that orgasms were natural and even a desirable part of growing up, that all boys masturbated. If I had a cock, I think that I could have jerked off now with not too much guilt. I had come to realize that it was my mother’s attitude that was sick, not me. I had no cock to play with, though. I had to wait for the pressure to build up enough to have another wet dream to experience an orgasm.

Word, of course, got around the school that I had cut off my cock. I wasn’t forced to dress out for PE, or take showers in front of the other boys, but some of them caught me one day after school, dragged me into the woods not far from my house and pulled down my pants. They stared at my crotch. Even those that had been with girls had never seen anything like me before, Without balls, I guess I would have more closely resembled a girl, but there they were, hanging from my bush. “But...how does he pee? How do you pee,” one of them said? Although I was frightened, and angry, I was also a little turned on by the attention, so I raised up my balls and showed them my pee hole. They kept staring at me, and a couple of them reached over and felt where my cock used to be. I could see that more than one of them had a hard on. Shawn, one of the nicer of the kids, one with a raging hard on, reached over and touched me more than once. Finally, they left me in the woods, and I was able to pull my pants back on. I saw Shawn look back at me when they left.

Showing myself to other boys became and regular occurrence. I grew to like the attention and went willingly to the woods where I pulled down my pants to show myself to the boys. I would lie down so they could look at my pee hole, and sometimes I would squat and let them watch me pee. They thought it was funny how I had to hold my balls up out of the way. Whenever I would go to the woods with a group of boys, Shawn was almost always among them. Every time I glanced at his crotch, he had a hard on.

One day I caught up with Shawn as he was walking home from school. “Hey, Shawn. Do you want to go to the woods? I’ll pull down my pants so that you can look all you want, even touch me if you want.”

Shawn stammered a little at first. I guess that he didn’t want to admit that he wanted to see me, but when I looked down at his crotch, I could see the bulge in his pants. We walked to my old fort and lay down on the grass. I took off my shoes and pulled my pants completely off. As we lay there, Shawn reached over and rubbed my bush. He ran his had down and lifted my balls to look at my pee hole. His cock was about to burst out of his pants so I reached over, unzipped his pants and pulled it out. He shot his wad almost as soon as I grabbed it. I leaned over to kiss him on the mouth, then reached down, undid his belt and pulled his pants completely off. We lay there, kissing, running our tongues in each other’s mouths, something neither of us had much experience doing. I had never been with a girl. I had nothing to offer a girl, and Shawn was still a virgin. I don’t think that he had ever frenched a girl. As we kissed, I could feel Shawn’s hard cock rubbing against my bush. The rubbing became thrusting and before long I felt Shawn’s cum shoot forth on my belly. As we lay there afterwards I reached over and pulled his tee shirt over his head, and then pulled my shirt off too. We lay there entwined, my tits pressed hard against his. I rubbed my chest against his turned on by the sensation. He was turned on, too. He dick was hard again. He again began rubbing it against my bush, but I rolled over, pulling him on top of me. I raised my legs, reached down and guided his dick toward my asshole. My virgin hole was tight, and I grimaced with pain as he thrust his cock inside, but the resulting sensation was worth any pain. His cock was at least seven inches long and easily thrust against my swollen prostate. It wasn’t long until we were both cumming, he filling my ass with his hot cum, and mine spurting forth from my pee hole on top of his thrusting cock. Being young, hot, and horny, we fucked over and over, both of us cumming time and time again. I had found that, even without a cock, I could have an orgasm without having to wait for a wet dream.

Throughout high school, Shawn and I continued to visit the fort. We brought things there, making it more comfortable. After we started driving, we would sometimes park in some secluded spot to make love, but the fort remained our favorite place to fuck. Eventually, we went off to different colleges and lost touch with each other, but I’ll always love Shawn and be grateful to him for showing me that I didn’t need a cock to be loved, or to have an orgasm.