Ayzintion City – The Contest

I’m sixteen, and scared. I am seated on a wooden bench, and my ankles are secured to two pegs in the ground. I try to pull my legs together, but it is impossible with my knees pushed through the flat wooden board that is so large I am sitting on it. The two holes have been cut just so, and my legs were forced through them and now it sits just at my knees, almost like a table, its flat surface spread out before me and with my knees sticking into it. They are splayed wide apart, and it’s not comfortable. My legs are spread so wide my thighs hurt, and with my hands tied behind my back I can do little but sit and wonder and think. My balls are resting in a pile of snow....they have piled the white ice from the mountains around my scrotum on their makeshift table and my dick hangs lose and small, the tip of my cock resting directly on the ice. Everything feels numb between my legs. Normally, I am proud of my body. It’s the kind people like to stare at, and I work hard in the fields and I have the muscles to show for it. My hair is blond....strawberry blond and they say that my eyes melt the girls when I look at them. I don’t know, but that’s what my friends say. I am not proud of my body right now. No, I’m humiliated to be seen like this, without my clothes. I hate being naked while people I do not even know sit and stair and point. I look at the seating area, and I can see the crowd has increased even more in the last few minutes. I can see too that the seats for the master and his family are still empty. I recognize some of the more influential people in the city, and the audience seems to be gathering for some event, which I am no doubt to be a part of. Whatever is to happen, it is certainly waiting for my owner. I try and think, think how my friend and I came to be here. To be the center of attention and tied naked and exposed with our balls and cocks packed in snow.

Perhaps it started last summer, when Jeremiah and I were just fifteen. Yes, I think it was then that we first jerked in front of each other. I guess it doesn’t matter really when it started, but after it did it seemed we would do it together all the time. We are the same age, and it didn’t seem that big of a deal. It feels so good, and I love to watch him when he is jerking his and its nice to listen to him moan as he squirts. I guess he likes watching me too. We don’t touch each other, although I would if he let me. I wish I could suck him even, and I do, but it’s only a dream when it happens. No, the reality is that we just jerk together, but that’s exciting enough. Yeah, we jerk together often he and I. We have done that a lot, and in fact I guess we have done it too much. We share the same loft in the slave quarters, and so we do it there at night mostly, although when we do it there we have to be quiet. But I have done it with him in the fields too, and once when we were at the stream and doing the washing. His dick is bigger than mine, but not by much, and I think my balls are bigger so whose to say? Sometimes we race each other, to see who can shoot it first. Sometimes it is a contest to see whose wad is bigger. Or who can shoot farther. I love looking at his body, the way his jet black hair glistens in the sunlight or how his deep brown eyes can stare right through me. God knows he is my best friend! I have seen him shoot hundreds of times, and I can always tell when he’s shooting...he always exclaims “I’M CUMMING” the instant he starts to blow his wad. With his yell he throws his head back hard and then makes the grunting noises as he shoots. I love it when he shoots--listening to him as he blows his wad. We jerked each other off once. Just once. But the memory of holding his rod is a memory that I hold and I cherish. We were trying to see who could make the other guy cum first. Just another one of our games. I’m glad we weren’t caught that time. The master probably would have cut our balls off for that if he had seen us then.

As it is, I am not sure what is going on now but it has something to do with money. I was worried they might cut us, but I don’t think that is the plan, and the master isn’t into that with the slaves. He doesn’t own any that do not have their balls. It has to be the money. I can see that money and notes are changing hands even as I watch, and they are betting and I think the stakes are high. I wish I knew what it was all about though. I know Jeremiah doesn’t know either, and yet I do know how we got here. I feel so ashamed to be tied like this, sitting on this bench side by side and facing the crowd that seems to be growing larger by the minute. It has just been a week, but it’s been one of the longest weeks of my life.

“Hey, you scared Fitzer?”

Jeremiah’s words make me jump, and I look at him and I nod my head. They all call me that. Don’t know why, but it’s all I have ever been called. I swallow, and then try to whisper and answer him.

“Yeah...I am. Master Santino is sure up to something. I think it has to do with us and one of his betting games. You know he likes to bet and there has been a lot of money moving in the crowd.”

“SILENCE!!!”

I look at the big man, the biggest of the overseers, and I close my mouth like a trap. He is holding the whip he used on us only a week ago, and there is no doubt he knows how to use it and my ass still burns from the first time. He is staring at me, and it’s obvious that we are to say nothing and so my ass clinches as I remember that whip. I sure can’t take another beating now so I keep my mouth shut. He has been watching me all week, and he isn’t to be fooled with. I try and think. I know the master likes to bet, and he is often hosting cock fights and dog fights and other games of chance. He makes it a regular part of the activities here and he has many friends from the city who come. I have seen the crowds before, but never this large. What bothers me the most I think is that I’ve never seen him tie a slave like we are tied now, and especially in the middle of the betting ring. It’s strange enough just to be tied, but to be tied sitting with my legs spread in the center of the ring, where the cock fights and the dog matches are held, is even stranger. I cannot fathom what the owner is planning. I allow myself to look back at the guard, and the whip, and then I let my mind wander, back, back to a week ago when we were caught. With the memory I can see the owner’s face, and the memory of his anger scares me to the core.

We were in the master’s house, cleaning the kitchen and doing the chores. The house was empty when we started and we were doing the floor. Jeremiah just suddenly did it...he was just standing there and then as I looked at him he had looked at me and then he had laughed and that’s when he pulled it out. I remember thinking it wasn’t cool, that it was a bad idea. He had dared me though...said he bet he could shoot in the cleaning bucket before I could even get it hard. I tried to talk him out of it. Suddenly he was pumping, and then so was I...two teenagers jerking our erect cocks as fast as we could. It was just a contest really, trying to beat each other to it, to get the feeling first, to blow our wads and then mop the floor with the spunk filled water. I know that we thought it was funny, and perhaps it was funny in a way to think the master and his family would be walking on a floor we had washed with our semen. Yeah, it might have been funny then. But we aren’t laughing now. I remember doing it. Stroking my meat and watching Jeremiah stroke his. He was so hard. The tip of his dick was just so large, eager even, and so close. Them suddenly her voice had cut the room like a knife, her anger obvious and OH GOD she was THERE.... staring at us as we had been pumping our dicks. The master’s wife is a beautiful woman, even in her anger and when I looked and saw her I was so shocked. But I remember her expression, and how her tits bounced and the way her eyes burned. She had stopped us with her first word, and I’ve never shoved my dick back in my pants faster than I did then. I prayed she would keep the secret, but alas, she did not. At the time Jeremiah and I blushed red, and we stammered out an apology and then went back to work hard, finishing the floor in record time. Afterwards we had rushed outside to move the stones from the brook to the wall---anything to stay busy and be seen working and sweating so the master would not be angry. We would have gone anywhere to get out of the house and out of her sight. Perhaps if I had known about the whip I would have tried to run away.

An hour later we had been summoned. That is a memory I’ll never be able to forget. As we entered back into the house, the sweat literally dripping off our bodies, the master had assembled the entire family. God he looked angry and as soon as I saw him I knew we were in trouble. The madam was there, and their daughter, a girl of our own age. The two sons were there as well. One of them, Patrick, is thirteen, and the other is a year older. The fourteen year old, Eric, hates me, or at least he is always making me do shit and he enjoys it when he does. They were all staring at us, and as we were brought in I was shaking with fear. Then he had turned and that’s when he asked it.

“What were you doing in my house? Explain yourselves.”

I could not speak. What could I say? She had seen us plain as day, seen our cocks and seen us pumping them. There was no way to deny it, and no way to undo what we had done. Suddenly, Jeremiah did the words. He said “Master, we were cleaning the floor sir, and then well, we just started having a contest sir. We didn’t mean anything sir, I swear we didn’t. We are sorry...please sir, we are very sorry.”

He had looked at us then, stared at us, and then he said to me: “So, what was the contest? What contest requires you to masturbate yourselves in my wife’s presence?”

I looked at him. Again, what could I say?

He raised the tempo of his voice then, and it was directed at me and I know I must have jumped: “FITZER, speak boy. I want YOU to answer me!”

I know I stuttered out the words. “I’m sorry sir. We didn’t know she was there. We were just...we were....we were just seeing who would cum first sir. He bet he could beat me. It was a stupid game sir.”

He paused for a minute, the words registering. Then, well, he laughed then. After he did he said, “So, you like to bet your wads do you? (more laughter) Maybe we have a few queers here on the ranch? Betting queers. I can understand that, at least the betting part. So, tell me, when you bet your wads, who is it that comes out the winner? Which of you shoots first?”

I had no idea what to say. Jeremiah answered for me: “Sir, please sir. It was stupid. It’s just a contest sir...we don’t play it that often....”

“ANSWER ME!” the owner yelled.

Jeremiah stuttered, then said: “I..I..I guess...I guess it depends on....who has done it....how long it’s been sir. Sometimes I do sir. Sometimes he does. I’m sorry sir, it won’t ever happen again!”

“And what is it that you bet when you bet your wads?”

We both answered then: “Nothing sir....we don’t really bet anything!”

I remember then that the boy that hates me spoke up. “Dad, maybe they should finish what they started? Then you would know for sure who shoots first?”

He had laughed at that. A deep, hard laugh that made his entire belly shake. Then, well, THEN he said, “That is a good idea Eric...an EXCELLENT IDEA EVEN. Yes, boys, pull ‘em down. Lets finish the little game. NOW! You two start jerking and do it NOW! You seem to like audiences, so you have one. I’m sure my family would enjoy the entertainment and soon we will know who is the faster shooter.

I started to speak, but he cut me off. “BEGIN!” he yelled, and with a swallow I reached for the clasp on my pants.

I’ve never been more embarrassed or humiliated in my life, well not until now that is. There was no way to ignore him, and to refuse the owner’s demand was never a possibility. That didn’t make it any easier though. We begged anyway, but his mind had been made up and there was only one thing to do. And so we did what we had to do. My hands shook as I lowered my pants and took my rod in my hand. Then, in front of them, in front of the daughter and the sons and the wife and the owner I pulled my meat, worked it, harder and harder and every time I slowed down at all he would yell “KEEP GOING. DON’T EITHER OF YOU DARE TO STOP.” And after a while it grew hard, and I jerked it as they watched and it started oozing and it was feeling good then and my hand pumped like a piston and then the head started making the slapping sound the way it does when I work my prick. God it was so humiliating. I remember the daughter laughing as our dicks started making the sounds as we beat them. Jeremiah started moaning, quietly but loud enough everyone could hear him. I did too....just couldn’t help it after a while. We were pouring sweat off our bodies, and my hair was wet with it as I pumped my meat. I was so humiliated. It seemed to last an eternity. It was obvious there was only one way to get it to end, and so I did what I had to do as fast as I could do it. Finally, finally it started happening, and then in front of them all, while they all stared and smiled and watched I shot my wad. I heard Jeremiah yell “I’M CUMMING” the way he always does and then I was shooting too. It came out violently....and I remember the woman gasping as my spunk hit her newly cleaned floor. I shot and shot and shot, grunting out loud with my friend as my spunk spasmed from my dick. When I was done I looked over at Jeremiah, and the drool was coming out his dick in a string to the floor and it was obvious that he had shot at the same time as I. His wad was laying on the floor too, the lines of our cum laying like white streaks on the tiles side-by-side. We had literally shot together, and from what it looked like, we had shot the same amount with the same intensity.

“A TIE! SPLENDID! OH THIS HAS POSSIBILITIES!” the master had said.

With the master’s words I knew it was bad for us. After that he had had us taken to the courtyard and bent over the table there and tied face down and with our naked rears jutting into the air. I thought for a minute we might be nutted, as I know the table has been used for that purpose in the past. But that wasn’t the plan and then I saw the whip and I knew we were in for that instead. Jeremiah was tied down first, and I looked at him and it was almost like his ass was begging for it, stuck out and up with his legs spread wide, exposing the space between them and exposing his balls and his cock and even his hole. Jeremiah got it then. Twenty strokes of the whip, across his bare and very exposed ass. I watched them deliver the strokes so hard his entire body bounced with the burn of the leather. With each stroke he had yelled, his ass growing crimson from the lines of the whip. They crossed each other, and then crossed again. “YEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! OH PLEASEEEEEEEEE!!! OH SHITTTTTTTTTTT” he had screamed. It seemed to go on and on. His cries became a continuous begging babble after a while, and as I watched and listened and waited my turn I even saw the whip crack into his dangling balls on several occasions. Finally he was done, and as I saw them cut him down his ass was so red it almost didn’t look like it was part of a person anymore. It looked more like raw meat to me. Then suddenly I too was being tied, spread with my legs wide to the table, my naked ass forced up and into the air. I looked up at the two sons who were there, eager to watch my ass get the whip. GODDDDDDDDD! SWISHHHHHHHH CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK! OH GOD! The pain reached my brain and I felt it, and it was like no other feeling on earth. It consumed me, took over my mind and the pain radiated across my ass and I jerked and thrusted against it. GOD IT BURNED! SO FUCKING BAD. Nothing else existed after that but my ass and the whip and my ass and the pain. I’ve never felt anything like that whip, each stroke burning my ass raw and even as I humped the table and struggled against the bonds that tied me open and exposed the whip went on stroke after stroke. Several strokes went around and caught my sac as well, and the pain was so intense I thought I was dying. I know I screamed, and the tears poured from my eyes. Even my hole felt the burn of the whip. I lost count of the blows, and I have no idea how long it took. But the two boys in front of me watched me get it, and as they watched they laughed and called me names and cheered with every stroke. Finally, finally with my ass on fire the whipping stopped, and then they cut me down and dragged me to the stables to join my friend.

I thought it was over. I did....but they tied us in the stables and put two of the ranch slaves to watch us. No matter the hour we were watched. We were watched when we ate, and when we slept. Our hands were kept tied most of the time, and if we had to pee then we just pissed where we were tied. I remember asking the man that guarded us what they were watching us for, and that’s when he told us that the master wanted us to be “even” and he “had plans for us” and we weren’t allowed to “touch your cocks again.” I wondered about that. Obviously, he wanted to make sure that neither of us came again until he was ready. Yeah, that was a week ago. My ass still burns, and yet I am sitting on it because I have no choice. I look down, and see my shrunken prick exposed and uncovered and packed in snow. God the snow feels cold!

I shook my head back to the present. There is the patriarch, the master and his wife, taking their seats and the crowd seeming giddy with excitement. The girl is there now too, at his side, as are the two boys. As I looked at the family and look again down at my nakedness I know my face is flushed scarlet with the embarrassment.

Suddenly, the master whispers something and then two slaves approach us. I know them both, but they have a task to do and they do it. They check our bonds, and make sure the knots are tight. One of them leans to my ear and whispers “If you speak they will gag you now and then whip you when this is done---understand?” I nod my head, not daring even to answer. I glance at Jeremiah, and I can see he has been given the same message. The words from the owner are as effective as any gag would be. Then, seeing that it has been done, the master stands and begins to speak to the crowd that has grown quiet for his words: “This contest is about to begin. The betting is still open and the house holds the odds at 50 50....dead even. The two slaves before you both claim they are men. They like to challenge each other to see who can squirt their seed first. The true test of a man of course isn’t to see how fast he can shoot. No, the TRUE test is to see who can control it and keep it, not who can shoot it. Consequently, today we will find out which of the pair is really the man. Is it the good looking blond with the bright blue eyes? Or is it the boy with the darker hair, and the deep brown eyes that look so eager? Yes, so hard to tell which of the two is the real man. As always, this will be a fair contest. The two contestants are of equal age, and the last time they both squirted they did it at the exact same time. That was a week ago and their balls have been filling with lust sense. They have both been given the same opportunity to rest and to get ready, and there balls should be full of young, teenage cream with dicks that are ready and eager to shoot it. I have ensured that they have not touched themselves since, and we have kept their cocks and balls in snow now so that when this contests starts it will start from the same state of arousal. The contest is simple. The first boy to ejaculate loses, and the last that begins to shoot his wad is the winner.

We will allow ten minutes for the final placement of the bets. Make your final bets now, and then we will begin.

After that, the crowd became noisy, and even more money was changing hands. The excitement in the crowd was growing. I struggled...but it was hopeless. So, it was to be a jack off contest! My face was red with shame. How could I do it again? How? In front of all of these people. I looked at my dick and it was small, laying on the ice, and I didn’t even think it would get hard I was so scared. I wondered how I would be forced to do it. I wondered, and imagined it, the crowd cheering as we had to do it. My mind was racing! I felt my sore ass, and wondered too if I could survive the whip again after it was over if they put me to it. I looked to Jeremiah but he was lost in his own thoughts, his stare blank as he contemplated what was to come. The ten minutes passed in an instant.

Suddenly, the master was standing again, and the crowd grew quiet. “The betting is now closed. We are now about to begin.” Then, looking to Jeremiah and me he then went on: “These boys like to bet, but they don’t like to bet anyTHING. So, we will give them something to bet today, to keep them motivated and to keep them honest. Then, he turned to face us directly, and as we looked at him he locked his eyes with ours. The he spoke these words: “Boys, in order to insure that you both do your best, the loser should know that he will be CASTRATED. That’s the penalty for the boy who shoots his wad before the other. If I were you boys, I’m make damn sure I wasn’t the first one to cum!” As he said that, my faced flushed white with fear, and the crowd roared with laughter. OH GOD NO!

Jeremiah started to protest, to dare to speak, but with the owner looking at him he closed his mouth. I was struggling hard then, but what could I do? We shook our heads, our eyes begging him. The crowd loved our reaction, and there were many that were laughing as they looked at us. OH God....castrated! No! After what he had said the rest of his words were like blurs....the crowd even more excited....I tried to get loose...but my hands were tied well and the flat board kept my knees apart, my dick exposed and visible and my balls, OH GOD MY BALLS, suddenly so exposed and oh-so-vulnerable. I looked to Jeremiah and his face was ashen, like mine. The crowd was giddy, and obviously anxious for it to begin, to find out which of us would shoot first and lose his balls in the process. Jeremiah was struggling, straining every single muscle, as was I, trying to get lose and to stop this madness. Like me, his legs weren’t going anywhere, and his hands were bound behind him and it was obvious we would be unable to stop it.

Then the master was speaking again: “We would let the boys stroke themselves, but the inconsistencies would prevent a fair contest, and they would never allow themselves to keep at it if they were losing. Because of that, my two sons will do the stroking. They will stroke to the ring of a bell, so that the strokes will be delivered with the same rhythm. The stroking will continue until there is an ejaculation by one of the contestants. The loser will be castrated then, and all bets will be paid at that time. The house receives 10% of the bets for hosting the contest. Are there any questions?

OH GOD! Suddenly, here come the two brothers. Shit! The thirteen year old is going up to Jeremiah, and Eric, OH GOD, Eric is now in front of me. He smiles, and then I hear him whisper: “Ready to lose your balls Fitzer?” My eyes open wide with fear...OH GOD not Eric! I don’t want him to touch me! Suddenly the two brothers pull out short strings of leather and as I see them coming towards us I can’t quite hear the words going to the noisy crowd: “....they will now tie....balls of the..............will be handed to allow........cinched tighter.........followed with the castration....loser.” I can’t make out the words, but as I am straining to hear I see Eric take the loop of leather. Then, reaching down, he grabs my scrotum and I see him pull it down, at the same time he pulls the loop up. He pulls harder then on my balls, stretching the sac, and forcing my balls down to the bottom of my scrotum. I try to struggle, but I am helpless, and then as I watch he grabs the ends of the leather tie and then jerks the knot closed. Oh God I grunt then, unable to ignore the tie! It literally snaps as it grasps my balls. I feel the stab of pain, even though my balls are still chilled from the snow. It’s a deep pain, and I feel it in my gut. I jerk harder against the ropes, and as I look I notice my balls are bulging in their sac, the skin of my scrotum suddenly so tight that my two balls look like they are going to pop through it. I almost vomit from the sight, and I look sideways and see that Eric’s brother has done the same to Jeremiah. My friends balls are tied tight in his sac as well, the knot cinched so tight the skin looks like only a flap is left holding his balls to his body. I notice his pole has begun to stiffen, and as I see it happening I notice his teenaged pubic bush is wet with sweat. The crowd is cheering now, yelling even as they root for the brothers to get on with it. I am sick with fear! But, surprise!...as I look down, I see that like my friend my own prick is growing hard from the leather. No!

Suddenly, the snow is knocked away, and I feel warm water poured over my prick and balls, washing away the snow completely in an instant and warming everything in the process. Then the boys step back so the crowd can see us and look at our tied balls and our stiffening pricks. I struggle harder, and I can feel Jeremiah doing the same. I look at the crowd, and the madam is smiling as she stares at our sacs, with the balls inside so tight they almost look as if they could pop. As she is staring my tool continues to lengthen even more. The sun is bright and hot and intense and after the warm water my balls are feeling it. Yes, I can feel the sun’s rays, and as I feel them on my prick and my balls the ache in my tied balls increases. I look down at them then, and my prick is now rock hard and thick! God! It’s jutting up out of my blond pubic bush like a piece of steel, and the end is already mushrooming out and almost looking eager for the attention. My foreskin has pulled pack on its own, exposing the end, which glistens in the sun and bounces to my heartbeat. But it is my balls that catch my stare. They are bulging, and they are redder than I’ve ever seen them. As I notice the color suddenly I hear a bell toll, and as I hear it Eric reaches out and takes a small bottle of oil and pours the contents over the end of my prick, allowing it to run down my shaft. Then, having emptied the bottle, he grabs my dick. I almost shudder as he touches it! I look at him, and he is smiling, staring into my eyes as he holds my dick. I then look down, and in his other hand he holds a curved knife, a special knife made in the shape of a hook, and as I watch him I see him place the hook around my sack and under the tie. I feel the razor sharpness of the inside of the blade resting against my sac, and I am suddenly so afraid that he will move his hand and if he does I will lose my balls. I start to yell, but gag myself as I think of the whip. My eyes are wide with fear! I look to Jeremiah, and my friends balls have a similar knife hooked around them, resting there. The thirteen year old boy grips my friend’s oil-soaked dick with his fist, while he holds the knife and the balls of my friend with the other. As I look at it I realize this is real. I also notice my friends glistening prick, jutting hard and stiff like me, almost as if its excited just to feel the knife on its nuts and anxious to be unmanned. Suddenly the bell begins to ding, a soft little ding that is repeated again and again and again. As it does I feel a hand moving on my dick and as I look with horror I see Eric’s hand is the one and it is pumping up and down my oil-soaked shaft.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

With every ding of the bell, the fourteen year old’s fist slides up and down my dick. God it feels so good and he is gripping it, holding it, squeezing it! The oil feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Oh God..oh yes oh God! His fist pumps me. Not fast. Not slow. Just continuously, up and down and up and down timed to the dings of the bell. The slippery skin is sliding over my dick and the friction from his oiled fist feels better than anything I have ever felt before. I want it to stop, but there is nothing I can do to stop it. I stare at his glistening hand, helpless to stop him, and as I watch he just continues...being so careful to keep the strokes even, timed to the bell and exactly even with his brother who is working on my friend in the same way. God—they are jerking our dicks....jerking us off and as they are doing it is crystal clear I cannot prevent it. I look at the crowd, and they are giddy. Some are yelling at me, some are yelling at Jeremiah. The bet seems to be split. They seem so excited; anxious perhaps to win some money, fearful perhaps they might lose. For me, and for Jeremiah, the fear of losing is greater than any fear a boy can have. Literally, against my will, I have bet my balls and they are on the table.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

On it goes. Feeling better and better, and my prick now so hard I cannot believe it. The crowd is in a frenzy, yelling. “Come on Blondie...SHOOT YOUR WAD!” “Think about that knife boy!” Another voice “Don’t you dare cum!!!!” “Hey...Jeremiah....hold it boy”..... “think about the whip boy.” Oh God---everyone wants something to happen. Some want me to shoot. Some want Jeremiah to shoot. And the bell keeps dinging.... ding... ding ... ding. Oh God the feeling...so fucking good! Oh the oil...it’s so slippery and his greased hand just seems to swallow my dick with every stroke, the oil growing hot from the friction. I dare not move my hips. I dare moving nothing.... dare not do anything to push the feeling. But it is rising non-the-less, building in his hand, and as it builds I feel it and I am aware that my balls are tightening even further in their sac.

I glance to my friend, and he is looking at me. His eyes have the glaze, and I can see that the tip of his prick is glistening from his eagerness, the single eye oozing his fluids and building towards the release. OH GOD PLEASE LET HIM CUM! I can see Jeremiah clinching his teeth, his jaw closed so tight as he fights the feeling that is slowly consuming him. I feel it too, so close to that line where it will continue without control. Oh GOD it has been a week since I came! I look at my dick then, and I can see my big mushroom head bulging huge and flared, purple with desire and my own tip oozing fluid that drools in thin lines from my cock. I try to think of the knife, sitting there wrapped around my sac, ready to take it and my balls in an instant, and as I look at it I notice Eric looking at me, hoping he gets to make the pull and take my manhood. The crowd is screaming so loud now that it is echoing in the distance, and I am aware of it and yet I am powerless to do anything about it.

Then, somewhere the bell pace is increased, and with it the hand on my dick goes faster and faster. OH NO!

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

I know I will lose it soon. I stare into space, trying to last, to think of something else to hold off the rush in my balls. Then suddenly Jeremiah is screaming “OH GOD FITZER....I’M CUMMING---and I look to him then, and as I do I see his body shudder. It head goes back then as it always does when he shoots, and then his back arches, and I hear him start to grunt out his load. I close my eyes, listening to my friend shoot his jism, and while I feel for him I savor my win. He is grunting loud now, even louder than I have ever heard him grunt, and as I hear him I feel it and as I listen I allow myself to let it go. I suddenly push up, into the oiled fist that is still stroking me, and then I’m suddenly fucking the fist and as I do I arch my own back throwing my head towards the sky. Oh yes! I feel it then, the first shot, but I don’t care anymore and it’s so violent that it shoots from my dick and I actually feel it hit the bottom of my chin. I am smiling as I shoot, and with my friend I too am grunting then, the second shot almost as hard, the wad hitting me in the chest as I grunt out my jism and let it shoot from Eric’s fist. I thrust harder, fucking his fist, and as I do I open my eyes and turn to my friend I think to see the cut, to watch his balls be taken perhaps as I am enjoying my own orgasm. It is in that instant when my eyes focus that I feel the chill, the shock indescribable as I look and see his glistening dick still bulging with unsatisfied desire and being pistoned by the teen who grips it. What?!? Where is his wad? I mean...I heard him! He was cumming he was and OH GOD HE TRICKED ME TRICKED ME TRICKED ME HE DID!!!! I look up at him then, and he is looking at me, and then he winks at me and flashes his smile and OH GOD I see him with the feeling still building within him even as he pretended it was not. I glance down then, at my own dick, perhaps to verify what I already know. It is still spewing, squirting out my juices from deep inside me, pulsating in the teenage fist that continues to work it and which has been the seed of my destruction. I can’t stop it now, and as I see it shooting I know I have lost. I am just in time to see it happen, and as I look, even as I still am squirting, Eric’s other hand is moving so I see it and feel it as it happens. Suddenly, the pain replaces all the pleasure and I watch the knife as he pulls it through my sac. It hangs for a second, and he jerks harder, and then in that instant, my balls are taken and with them all that makes me a man. Oh God---my balls! I grunt hard and deep as the cut is felt, my entire body spasming from the feeling, convulsing as my balls are cut from where that have been attached my sixteen years. It happens so fast and my hips jerk, literally thrusting, still fucking his fist as he takes them. Then, as I watch he drops my quivering sac on the table between my spread legs, and when he does the bloody contents suddenly spill out as I see it, the orbs no longer trapped by the tie. As I watch they literally pop out the top of my severed scrotum, the balls themselves actually still pulsating, still trying to pump out their goo. The muscles in my legs are cramping now, as they work against the board that spreads them to try and pull my knees together to protect my balls. Of course, my balls are gone now and lie quivering on the table, and all I want to do is die. Many in the crowd are laughing, and there is a roar of applause from those that have won their bets. I begin to feel light in the head, the strain of what has been done to me too much to bear, my body jerking with the tension. I then hear Jeremiah, and I can tell he’s cumming for real now, the sight of my severed balls too much and as he was watching them be taken it pushed him over the edge. He starts pumping out his seed in the ecstasy of his orgasm. “I’M CUMMING!!!” he yells for real this time and then he is. I notice it, am aware of it, the white of his jism squirting out so violently I can’t miss it this time. Yet now as I see it I already sense the envy of his win, my friend still a man and me turned into a neutered nothing. Still, without control for some reason my body continues to thrust my hips, my ball-less cock jutting and pulsating even as it fucks the air, my manhood spilled out on the table and gone from me forever. There is no pleasure in the thrusting, and instead I’m filled with a pain so deep and primal it cannot be described. As Eric took my balls I shot even more, and the goo lies in a puddle by my severed sac, almost as if my body knew it was its last time. Finally, with nothing to fuck and no balls left to fuck with, I collapse completely and then slowly everything fades to black.......

My mind wanders......the dream is so real, the crowd and the roar and the knife blending in my delirium. I feel the cut....and feel it again and again and then again as the blade makes the slice. I float between being awake and not, between sleep and death, between blackness and light. My face is on fire, and the fever burns. I dream, but what is real anymore? Between my legs it hurts so bad. I am fucking a woman....I see her tits and the father is mad....Is that Jeremiah coming to bid me well? “I am cumming he yells.” Or does he? Is he? I see him, then don’t. I see the owner then it’s the son and then it isn’t anymore. I see him shooting...TAKE HIS BALLS! Is that a cock in my face? I drift in and out. God those tits are nice....and then I am fucking...it feels so good but wait, my balls are missing....I wake for a moment, and I am in the house, in a real bed and the madam is putting cold cloths on my forehead. I drift in and out and sleep. The money....they made lots of money with my balls. The days blend together. I am awake now...is it night? I fade...then no...please don’t cut them off....OH GOD he does....Eric is here, or is he? I can’t see him anymore. I feel the knife again. “Fitzer, it was fun taking your balls.” Did he say that? I see him in my dream, and he is excited, and the bulge in his pants is obvious, the boys cock hard as steel and stiff and eager, ready to mount something, so he can empty his seed. “Over Fitzer, and get your legs spread.” I dreamed it....or did I? “Turn over and present your ass to me--now! You will learn to enjoy it.” I wake up crying, and she is there, and she holds my head and gives me a sip of water before I sleep again. My ass burns now, is it the whip again or something else? Crack!?! I see a pussy, and I am fucking it. No, he mounts me like an animal and the pussy is my ass and he is in it. I feel it....try to will my ass to keep him out, but he pushes too hard and he pops past the ring of muscle that protects my hole. As he enters me I gasp, and then, with little hesitation I feel him begin the fuck..... I can feel his heavy balls slapping against my ass, almost where mine were before he took them. It is a terrible feeling, feeling his nuts and wishing they were mine, and then they are squirting and the boy is cumming.....

Fitzer..... PLEASE FITZER........ WAKE UP FITZER....... I open my eyes and Jeremiah is there. I blink, and he does not go away. I am in a bedroom in the house....and the madam is there too. I am filled with sweat. “His fever is breaking” she says. This is not a dream, not this. Where am I? Oh God...I’m in Eric’s room....in his bed....I am.

[If you enjoyed this story I would appreciate a reply. It took a while to write, and its through the feedback from the readers that it is made worthwhile. [email protected]]