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The Physical Let me tell you about the events of my youth, and how I involuntarily became a good citizen in the town of Stepford It happened six years ago now. My family had moved to Stepford over the summer, and now I was a week into my first semester at high school. I got called in to the infirmary just after first class. I was missing Social Science, so I wasnt too upset! Wed been warned that wed all be receiving health checks that week, and almost all of my other male classmates had been called out ahead of me, although none had yet returned. I knocked on the door, and the school nurse opened it, smiling at me, then ushered me into the room. I entered and was met by a doctor Id never seen before. Were just going to take some measurements and check that youre developing normally okay? he said. I felt a mild twinge of nervousness after all, what 14 year old likes being prodded and poked by strangers? - but I nodded, and waited to see what would happen next. The nurse handed me a half-full glass and told me to drink it, saying it would help with their tests. I swallowed it in one gulp. Okay, well, well just need to give that a few minutes to take effect, so if youd like to sit over there, you can read a comic for five minutes whilst it gets to work. I did as I was told, selecting an X-Men from the available selection. Id barely finished one strip when the nurse called me back over. Right then, Id like you to do something for me. Were just going to test your senses. Pick up this disc whatever you do, dont drop it okay? I nodded my understanding and picked up the metal. It was about the size of a quarter, was cool to the touch, and was connected to a small console. The nurse said, Tell me, is the disc hot or cold? Cold, I replied. She twiddled a dial and the disc got much colder. Hot or cold? Cold, I responded dutifully. She turned the dial again. The disc got really hot. Hot enough almost, to blister my skin. I wanted to scream and drop it, but Id been ordered not to, and for some reason I was unable to counter the instruction. Hot or cold? she asked a third time. Hot, I responded in a pained voice. The nurse twiddled the dial and the disc went cold again, this time soothing my hot fingers and preventing proper blisters forming. Unknown to me, Id just passed the test, and I had proven that I was under the influence of the drug Id drunk. My thoughts remained exactly the same as usual, and I felt all the same physical pleasure and pain responses to stimuli, but I was unable to refuse an order, or act of my own free will. Alright young man, put down the disc and take off your sneakers please, the doctor instructed, and I quietly complied. Now remove your jeans and underpants and put them on the chair. My stomach churned with panic, but I found myself draping my jeans on the chair before I knew it. Without any hesitation, I dropped my white Jockeys to the floor and put them on top of my jeans. My mind was screaming, Youre naked in front of a woman she can see your weiner! but outwardly, I remained calm, as I stood awaiting further instructions. Good, very good, the doctor murmured, half to himself. Directing his full attention to me he said, Young man, extensive studies have revealed that adolescent hormones are at the heart of many of societys problems. They fuel competitive behaviour, aggression and rebellion. Here in Stepford, we find such behaviour simply unacceptable especially when the solution is so simple. Our solution is a radical one, but so far its had a 100 percent success rate. What we do is neuter all boys at the start of high school, and this prevents the production of hormones that produce undesirable behaviour. Because this is a local council ordnance, we dont need your parents permission for the procedure, and because its over in one afternoon, most parents never even know its been done. I didnt know what neuter meant, but I understood that hormones were something to do with sex, and the fact that I was naked amplified my fears that something bad was going to happen to my privates. The doctor continued, What weve found is that actual removal of your testicles is a complicated procedure, requiring a hospital stay. Instead, weve opted for an alternative, which is quicker, cleaner and has no risk of infection or bleeding. Unfortunately, it is rather painful, but once its done, youll come to appreciate the way that we do things. With that, he turned around and picked something up off his desk. It was like a giant pair of needle-nosed pliers, with handles a foot long, and tips that bent up at right angles. Instead of two slender metal tips, there were four, which opened in a square away from each other. The doctor picked up a piece of rubber. It was a solid cylinder about two inches long, with four long, thick sleeves on its outside. The doctor poked the ends of the pliers into these sleeves, and they fit snugly. Then he squeezed the long handles together, and the tips of the pliers opened, pulling the rubber. It was only then that I realised that the cylinder was in fact a hollow tube, through which things could be fed. I was filled with terror, and in spite of the effect of the drug, my pupils dilated in fear. The rubber tube didnt come apart evenly. At the ends, the rubber was much thicker, and these reinforced rings formed a hole of a much smaller diameter, so the overall effect was to turn the solid rubber cylinder into a hollow rubber ball shape about four inches across. Id heard of the way that animals were castrated by having the cords of their nuts strangled until the nuts shrivelled and fell off. It was repugnant thought, and figured that that was the way my nuts were going to go. I wondered how the doctor would prevent me from clawing the tubes off at the first available opportunity. I inwardly prayed that the experience would not be too painful. As it happened, strangulation of my cords would have been a much more merciful solution The nurse pulled my larger left ball down low into my fearful sack, and the doctor held the device close by, ready. As soon as my nut was in place, the doctor slid the open jaws of the device up my scrotum. I watched, unable to resist, or even beg for mercy. I expected him to release the rubber above my testicle, crimping the scrotum tightly, but to my shock, he didnt go that far. Instead, when my nut was completely within the hollow ball, he released the pliers and the tube clamped shut. Because the ends had a smaller diameter, they formed a seal that prevented my egg from sliding out of the tube at either end. The rubber was squeezing my ball fearsomely hard, and I let out a strangled whine. Yes, I expect that smarts a bit doesnt it, the doctor said, in what was surely the understatement of the decade. I looked down and I could see my left nut outlined within the thick rubber. The agony was excruciating. I was panting and breathless with pain. It was far worse than Id dared to fear. It felt as though someone had kicked me in the ball, and was now trying to push the remains up into my stomach. I didnt move or say a word, but tears coursed down my cheeks and I saw to my humiliation that pee was flowing from my rapidly shrinking weiner onto the floor. The doctor said, One down, one to go, and with that he picked up a second rubber cylinder and loaded the pliers. The nurse prepared my second ball in the same way, and held it ready for the doctor. Because I was in so much pain, my ballbag had tightened, so she had to hold the ball until the doctor had released the clamp. I could see that my right ball went into the tube sideways, so the rubber was applying most pressure on the ends. My right ball might have been much smaller than the left, but the pain was no less. It hit me instantly with sickening force. I tensed my stomach in agony. The pain was unbelievable. One second, both balls seemed to hurt as one sickening mass, then I could feel one, then the other. Because of the way it was being crushed, the right seemed to hurt more, but I felt as though both balls were being ground into one tiny nugget in the pit of my stomach. The doctor said, Most boys lose control of their bladders like that. Theres nothing to be ashamed about. My thoughts were too preoccupied by pain to stay humiliated long, but somehow his words penetrated my screaming thoughts. Relax your muscles. Breath slowly. Itll hurt less. I did as I was ordered but it didnt hurt less. Not one bit. However, I was unable to resist his ridiculous instructions. Thats it, the doctor cooed, as though his words had made a difference. Now youll find that it takes about an hour or two before your testicles have been completely reduced. Then well just slide the rings off and youll be done. Reduced sounded like one of those scientific words for something ordinary. In this case, I correctly deducted that the doctor meant mushed into nothing. In no more than two hours, my balls would be squashed away. It made me want to wail in anguish. But of course I couldnt. The nurse said, Pick up your clothes and follow me, and I did. She lead me out of another door and into a short corridor, lined with chairs. Sitting in the chairs were many of my classmates. Like me, they were all bare-assed. Like me, they all had balls encased in rubber. Like me, they all had tears in their eyes. The nurse pointed to a chair and said, Sit here and dont talk. Put your clothes on the floor in front of you. I sat, and she left. I looked at my classmates and they looked at me. They all had tense expressions, with wet, pained eyes like tranquilised cows that know theyre going to the slaughterhouse. I looked at their groins, and some looked at mine. Their dicks were tiny, shrivelled things. Some had only just started puberty, some were almost through it, and a couple had yet to sprout their first hairs. Now, as we all sat silently whilst our balls were ground to mush, no penis was longer than two inches, and many were barely visible at all. I looked at Larry, who was one of the first to be called to the infirmary. Id seen him in the locker room earlier in the week. Hed had a big man-sized dick, and heavy, sweaty-looking nuts the size of starling eggs. They were encased in rubber now, just like mine. The rubber barely showed a bulge. He wasnt going to be showing off his package in the changing rooms any more I looked at more boys, barely able to see through the tears of my own misery. I noticed that Martin only had one tube on. The other side of his dark-coloured ballbag was empty. For a brief few seconds, I wondered what had happened to his other ball. Although he had plenty of pubic hair, his penis was really tiny. We all sat looking at each other. Occasionally someone would pee himself, and there were puddles beneath most of our chairs before the day was done. The nurse lead more boys out every so often, until by my estimation, all of the boys in my class sat there being slowly gelded. If Id stopped and thought about it, I dont think I could have come with a more painful way to remove our just-developing nards. A hammer would have at least been quick, and a knife wouldnt have meant the tortuous crushing. Christ, even if theyd been chewed off by rats it couldnt have been much worse! I could feel my balls being relentlessly liquified, and I could see the other boys tubes slowly getting narrower and narrower as their balls were also crushed into oblivion. I looked down at my groin. Because of the angle my right ball had been trapped in, both bulges were about the same size; perhaps half an inch or so wide at the widest point. I was mildly disgusted at how puny my dick looked. It was bad enough after a cold swim, but now it seemed to be little more than a tightly puckered brown foreskin, and the rest had retreated inside my body. Few of the other boys were much better off by now, and the continuing agony soon drew my attention away from such prudish irrelevancies. My friend Mike was sitting across from me. Although wed not even met each other a fortnight ago, he and I had bonded on the first day of the semester and wed immediately become friends. I looked down at his groin. His pale little weiner was standing up perkily, and in other circumstances, it would have been funny. I saw one of the rubber tubes suddenly snap shut, as if something had given way inside. He jumped as if someone had put ice down his shirt made a tense little grunting noise. I caught his eye, and something passed between us. A knowledge that hed just lost something. He didnt try to stand, or pull the tubes from his scrote. I looked down again, and the tube on the left was fully closed. That was one ball that was beyond saving. Id eaten lambs balls when I was on vacation, and I was surprised to discover that they werent hard and meaty like steak, but rather, they were mushy like liver my mom described the texture as offal and I hadnt much liked it. Now, I was only too aware how easy that made our balls to crush. They would literally disintegrate into bloody pulp. I kept hoping that someone would come out and save me. In spite of the fact that I could see more and more of the boys were being squished beyond the point of no return, I vainly hoped that I would somehow get rescued in the nick of time. Because of the tightness of the tubes, I was unable to get used to the pain. It wasnt like a kick in the nuts, where you get a sharp moment of pain, then a long dull ache, with a gradual decline. There was the sharp pain, and the dull ache, but the ache just kept increasing in magnitude, hurting more and more, and spreading out more from my groin. Now I was even getting pains in my legs and back! From time to time, I saw another boys tube suddenly collapse shut, as the ball within finally disintegrated, but with Larry, the tubes just got progressively narrower until there was nothing left within. That was how mine went. I kept disconsolately checking every few minutes, and each time, the tubes were just a little smaller. When the one on my right was down to under a quarter of an inch, I knew that nothing could ever save the ball inside. I doubt if my ball was that short when I was a baby, so if it had been squashed that much now, there couldnt be a lot left inside. We were left alone until about three, when the nurse returned. She went up to Larry, took hold of one of the tubes and pulled it down his scrotum. It came off easily, indicating the fact that his bag was now empty on that side. She repeated the procedure on the other side, then probed his scrotum with her fingertips. Good, all gone! she pronounced chirpily, as if she was giving him good news. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. The nurse moved from boy to boy, pulling off the tubes and verifying that each boy no longer had the slightest trace of meat left in his bag. When it was my turn, I could feel her squeeze the end of my cords with her fingers, and although I could still feel the pain in my balls, I couldnt feel her touching them. She moved on, and I wondered if shed made a mistake. I waited till shed moved a bit further away before looking down at myself. The skin of my scrotum was bruised black, and it hung like a tattered piece of liver, but it was clear that there was nothing left within. I was anguished to the pit of my stomach, and I wondered what it would mean for my future and my sex life. Id only discovered masturbation six months ago, but already I was fervent addict, jacking off two or three times a day, no matter what. It was like a religion to me! The nurse ordered us all to get dressed and we obeyed. Quite a few of the boys had to put on wet clothes, where their clothing had been standing in puddles of their own pee. The front of my trousers were soaked. The nurse spoke to us again, Right boys, now go home and act normally. Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone what has happened to you. Not your parents, not your friends. I dont even want you discussing it with each other. If your parents ask whats wrong, just say you have a slight stomach ache. Come back to the infirmary tomorrow before register. She opened a door at the other end of the corridor that lead out onto the front yard. We shuffled through silently, each of us walking slightly bow legged, as if that gait would stop the pain that knotted the pit of our stomachs. It didnt. I walked home the half mile to my house at a snails pace. Youd think with my balls completely gone, that I would no longer be in pain, but far from it. Even ignoring the chaffing and pinching that the tubes had inflicted on my scrotum, and the slight crushing of the cords that had connected my balls to my body, I seemed filled with a residual pain from my castration. Maybe it was a phantom memory, but I suspect that all of the nerves in my lower body had been worked up to such a state of pain, that they were unable to simply switch off now that the source of the pain had been removed. Id seen documentaries about soldiers who claimed that they still felt the pain in limbs that had been blown off by land-mines, and Id thought it ridiculous, but now I fully comprehended the sensation. As soon as I got home, I forced myself to shout hi, then went straight to my room, hiding my wet jeans. I couldnt resist the order to keep what had happened to myself, but that didnt mean that the pain was any less, or that I had no desire to examine what had been done to me. I changed straight out of my jeans and pants, and carefully examined my scrotum. Id expected it to look empty, but in fact it was now quite large bigger than it had been before my balls were pulped. My heart jumped for a moment. Maybe all was not lost after all? I gingerly probed my ballbag with my fingers. It was quite distended and firm to the touch, and my fingers stung the bruised skin. The rubber had pulled out what few hairs Id had when it was removed, and it had also abraded the skin, leaving it slightly grazed. I pressed my fingertips into the firm bag, and found a malleable texture like a ripe tomato. It reminded me of the fluid that had formed on my kneecap when I bashed it playing football. I pressed deeper, hoping against hope that the fluid was just a natural shock-absorber that had formed to protect my battered nuts. My fingers were met with little resistance, and when they finally touched each other through the skin of my sack, tears of grief starting to form, and I felt completely choked. I cautiously explored my bag until I found the cords. They were not dangling in the middle of the bag, but had already started to retreat back up into my stomach now that they were no longer weighed down by my eggs. There were just the barest filaments still in my sack, and when I gripped them, I doubled in agony. They were still plenty sensitive, and although it didnt feel exactly like a kick in the balls, it was a uniquely painful genital feeling. The ragged latticework of veins and tubes were clearly no longer attached to testicles, and I sobbed openly now that I knew my ballbag was empty. Ballbag! Id have to find a new name that wasnt accurate any longer. I kicked my wet jeans and pants under the bed, pulled on my pajama bottoms, and shuffled off to the bathroom to take a pee. It was bloody and hurt like I couldnt believe. I tried to stop mid-flow, but the pressure was too great, so I had to stand above the toilet pissing the bloody remnants of my balls into the bowl. When I was finally able to stop peeing, I flushed, tucked my tender dick into my pajamas without shaking and made my painful way back to my room, then I stripped off my shirt and went to bed. When my mom called me for dinner later, it took all of my skill to maintain a level tone of voice as I told her that I wasnt feeling well. After a few minutes of maternal concern, she departed and left me to sleep. After a fitful and uncomfortable nights sleep, I awoke and got up. My groin was aching and I looked into my pajamas to see what was happening down there. My pajamas were bloody, and my scrotum was enormous! It was easily the size of a large grapefruit, and the skin was so distended that my weiner just kind of half flopped out of the top, making it look even smaller. The bruised skin had started to turn a nasty yellow, even greenish in places, but it was shiny because it was stretched so tight. I poked it with a finger, and that didnt make it hurt any worse. I stood up and it dangled like an over-filled water-balloon. As I walked the few step to my dresser to get fresh underpants, and my bag was rubbing between my legs. It was so big that it was interfering with the way I walked. But to my relief, it wasnt the same ball-crunching agony of the night before. Mostly, it was just a tight-skin kind of feeling. I pulled on a pair of pants and lifted my scrotum forwards so that it no longer hung between my legs. It stuck out at the front and it looked ridiculous like I was wearing some kind of comedy cod-piece. I pulled on a pair of jeans, and although they felt very tight, my bag did at least compress enough for me to do them up. I managed to hide my discomfort through breakfast, and then I went back to school and reported to the nurses office as ordered. I was given another dose of the compliance drug, and then ordered to drop my pants. I did what I was told, and the doctor examined me to make sure that there were no dangerous side-effects of the crushing. When hed established that I was healing satisfactorily, my sports coach turned up and ushered me into the lecture hall along with the other boys whod been gelded. We all sat there with our bloated scrotums filling our trousers, acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary. The lights went down and a video started on the screen. At first I thought that it was just a propaganda video about life in Stepford, but there were weird flashes and odd sounds, and I started to feel oddly disassociated from the real world. The video continued for hours, and unbeknownst to me, I was being hypnotised well, not hypnotised, so much as programmed. The video was telling me about the importance of harmony in Stepford. How none of us should ever do anything to hurt it. Over the next fortnight, I was drugged and forced to watch programming videos for six hours a day. On the last day, we saw lots of images of other boys about our age. They were naked and waiting to enter the swimming pool. None of them had balls either and a couple of them were saying how great life was now that they didnt have all that pointless aggression to deal with. I was pretty much beyond the point of rational thought any more, and it seemed that what they were saying made sense. I started to feel grateful for the procedure. When I left school at the end of that second week, I no longer had to be drugged to be compliant. My head was so fucked up that I no longer wanted to complain to anyone. Over the next couple of weeks, my scrotum returned to its normal colour, and my body slowly absorbed the mulch that had been made of my balls. My empty bag flapped around like a withered balloon. My balls hadnt been exceptionally large, but theyd been enough to make my bag hang down two or three inches. Id always kind of liked my loose sack I thought it made me look more mature. Now it was nothing more than a travesty, its stretched form a mere echo of the eggs it had recently supported. Gradually, with time, my sack grew tighter and tighter to the base of my dick, until it hardly appeared as though it had ever held anything at all. Once, I was round at Mikes house and he asked me what I had left between my legs. I dropped my briefs to show him. Where once there had been a dangling pouch, now I had a small bulge of skin, no more than a half inch in depth. I asked to look at Mikes and he dropped his shorts. At first there was no sign at all that he even had a scrotum, but he lifted his penis to reveal what he had left. Mikes scrotum looked cold and tight, and it had shrivelled up against his penis. It had formed into two thin ridges of white flesh that reminded me of the crop underneath a roosters chin. His seam was a slightly indented line that ran raggedly between these innocuous ridges of useless, wrinkled flesh. Is your dick getting smaller too? he asked. Yeah, I responded. My penis wasnt shrivelling at the same rate as my scrotum, but it was definitely a bit thinner than before. My helmet seemed to stick out more now. It made me think of a mushroom. I wonder if theyll keep shrinking? Mike mused, almost to himself. I hope not. How small do you think theyll get? I dunno. Not much smaller. Mines not as big as yours in the first place. Yours isnt that small though, he replied candidly, and we left it at that. Of course, there was always a danger that one of our parents would see us naked and discover what had been done, in spite of our desire not to reveal anything. Thus, six months after the original procedure, over the space of a week, each of us returned to the infirmary, where heavy rubber prosthetic testicles were placed into our sacks. They were man-sized, and were fixed to the inside of our scrotums. Although of course, they were non-functioning, they did make us look much more mature than our years all except Larry of course! From that moment on, my scrotum started to descend all over again, until it eventually hung some four inches below my groin. Although my programming had taught me to value the loss of my nuts as a service to the harmony of the community, one thing that I never needed any prompting to appreciate was the fact that I could no longer be hurt badly with a kick to the groin, or any other kind of knock between the legs. On a few occasions, I caught one right in my pseudo-balls, and it didnt even slow me down. There were a few jokes about me having no balls, and the boys who knew that I really didnt have balls, glanced nervously at each other, but I laughed it off and the moments went. Because Id been castrated after the start of puberty, I was able to get hard and I could even still come. The liquid was clear and thinner than it used to be, and it seemed to shoot further. Also, I was able to recover much sooner. Sometimes I jacked off three or four times one-after-the-other, before a sore dick forced me to stop. I felt sorry for the few boys who hadnt yet fully started puberty when theyd lost their balls. They could get boners, just like me, but they never quite developed right. They seemed a bit girlish, and their bodies didnt grow to be as masculine as me and Mikes. The next year, I looked at the new intake of sophomores, and wondered how they would feel about what was going to happen to them in a few days BY DARKMIND [email protected] |