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Black and White Sometimes things don't go the way you want, and you learn lessons in life that you wish you could have learned a different way. For me, it all happened in my twenties, yeah, when I was twenty-three to be exact. While I had a few semesters of college behind me, I wasn't in school right then, and instead I was just frying chicken in a shit job and drinking beer with my buddies on the weekends. A couple of things we all agreed on back then, as ashamed I am to say it now, was that we shared a hatred of homosexuals, and also of black men. Yeah, I hated fags and negroes as they were called then, just hated them, and growing up in the south it was just the way it was for me and all my white friends. Looking back, I was Georgia white trash, yeah, but at the time I didn't see it that way. When I saw a man with dark skin, the "N" word came to mind. You know the word. Nigger. Yeah, that's the one. Well, back then I used to use it, a lot, and I wasn't ashamed to do so. It's almost funny now, looking back, cause I don't have those feelings anymore. But during those years, back in Georgia, I hated anyone with black skin, and if I could have had my way I'd have shipped them all back to Africa. Yeah, I was a racist, plain and simple, and the way I saw it, well, they were breeding like rabbits and trying to take over our country. Yeah, all we cared about was the color of their skin, and when I saw their curly hair and big lips or even their foot long dicks, I hated them with a passion. I joined the KKK when I was seventeen, and started messing around right away, burning a few crosses and chasing niggers after that. We didn't kill anyone, no, that wasn't our thing, not where I was from anyway. But we would mess em up and scare the shit out of them. It was a game as much as anything else, and while I was playin' it and growing up the hatred inside of me seemed to grow right along with me. By the time I was fucking girls and pushing my dick in and out of a few white pussies now and then, I started to think about sex and about them and about how they were breeding like rabbits. About then, well, I started to have other thoughts, and I started to fantasize about castrating one of them. It was just that, a fantasy, and probably would have stayed that way except for some beer and some bragging and a man named Jennings. You see, the night that started it all was just a regular night, when I was twenty-three and I was drinking beer with a few friends of mine. We had gotten together for a party of sorts, at the house of a regular type of guy who was a little older and had a little more money than the rest of us. Of course he, like all of us there that night, was a KKK member. His name was Jennings. Well, we were at his house, drinking beer and telling jokes and just sitting there talking about the niggers and the queers and how they were all taking over the fucking world when I mentioned my fantasy. As we sipped our beers we all agreed with each other, and about how they were just pushing out the babies and making more of themselves all of the time. Now Jennings was someone I knew, but not all that well. He ran JENNINGS TIRES, so he was a big shot in town, and he was a lot older than me. But, even if I didn't know him that well, we shared a common interest and we both hated niggers. I still remember how I worded it, and how I made the statement that changed my life. "You know...I wish I could nut one of the bastards. Yeah...I'd give anything if I could take the balls right off a nigger. Wouldn't that be sweet? God it would!" I grinned as I said it, and took another swallow of beer and laughed. My other friends were laughing too at the thought, when Jennings looked at me, and his face grew serious. That's when he said "You really want to castrate one? I could arrange it. I'm serious as shit here. You give me twenty bucks, and I'll set it up. But you'll have to take his balls, cause I'm not gonna go through all the trouble and take the risk if you go chicken on me in the end. And, you'll have to do it on your own, the knife part, cause I don't want to even be in the same county when you do the cutting." I looked at him and he was dead serious. With the booze stimulating my brain, and my other friends daring me on, my mind was racing, and the very thought of cutting off the sac from some big strong nigger just really got my heart pumping, and I started thinking of all the different ways I could do it. I could open up his big bag nice and slow, and just one by one remove his eggs and pluck them from his scrotum while he begged me not to. Or, perhaps I'd just tie a noose around his scrotum and take his entire bag, with a single, quick slice of my knife. I kept my Gerber razor sharp, and I knew without any question that it would go through a black man's sac of nuts like a hot blade will go through butter. Yeah, that had possibilities too, and as I started to think of it my dick went hard. On a whim, I pulled out a twenty and handed it to Jennings. As I did, I said "I want a strong one, big as an ox. Really strong. Don't give me a fat one either. I want a breeder, a man who is fucking regularly and will know what he's losing. Yeah, I want him strong, and I want him to have muscles. Yeah, that's what I want. I want to watch a big, strong nigger who will really be fighting it when I take his balls. Yeah, I want to watch him squirm when I'm doin it. I mean it. You set it up and I'll do it...I swear I will." He grinned, a big toothy grin, and then he said "Yeah? It would be a funny thing to watch, I'll give you that. Yeah, I'd like to see the expression on his face when a skinny little white boy like you starts cutting off his balls. I bet the whites of his eyes will be showing then! Yeah, would be a funny thing to watch. Well, I'll have it set up, I swear I will. You can count on that. But I won't be there, not when you do it. That part you gotta do alone. So, just be sure, when I call, that you do your part. One thing too Billy, we want to see his balls, to make sure you really go through with it. So, once I set it up, you need to do it. If you chicken out and don't nut him, or you can't show the proof you took em, then, no matter what, you'll owe me a hundred for my trouble." And so, that's how it all started, how I came to where it happened, and how the deal was struck. All for twenty bucks, like it was a joke or something. Just twenty bucks for a black man's scrotum. Yeah, to us Georgia white boys, it was just a funny thing to do, and it didn't really matter who I nutted or how I nutted him, as long as his skin was black and he had a scrotum. Yeah, I was so fuckin hard just thinking about doing it, and Jennings was grinning as he saw and shared my excitement. Two weeks went by, and then late on a Friday night, he called me. I recognized his voice, but he never used his name and instead he just gave me the information I needed to know. "Billy....it is all done. Set up. Take the dirt road to the river, on the county line, and park there just before the bridge. There's a place you can pull off there. Walk across the bridge and take the path down to the old swimming hole, and you'll find him there. He's tied to the 49 Chevy, the one that's on the bank and all shot up. You'll remember it when you see it. He's waiting for you Billy....and he's got a big set of balls. He's your age too, so he knows what his dick's for. Right now he's pretty scared, cause he's been told he's gonna be nutted, so I wouldn't make him wait too long. He's a strong man, with lots of muscles, just like you wanted. Now, if you don't have his sac to show me in the morning, no excuses. Bring me his nuts, or bring me a hundred." When he hung up, my heart started pounding in my chest. Could I really do it? All of a sudden, the idea was a hell of a lot more scary that it had seemed when we were sipping bear in his living room. Of course, I didn't have a hundred bucks, so the only way out of this was to go out there and castrate the nigger. That made me grin for some reason, and I grabbed my Gerber. I also took a coil of rope, a coat hanger, and a pair of pliers. I figured I'd noose his sac up nice and tight by twisting it up with the wire from the coat hanger, and then once I had done that I'd take his balls. I was grinning with the thought, and I was all smiles as I headed out the door. Once I decided I could do it, I didn't even hesitate. It took twenty minutes of driving and I was at the bridge, where the swimming hole was. It really wasnt much more than a bend in the river where an eddy backwashed itself from the bridge. On summer afternoons we used to skinny dip off the bridge, jumping into the river and then swimming to the eddy. We would do it all day, and while the bridge was twenty feet above the river, it was deep enough to make the jump, as long as you jumped in the right place. I had spent a lot of summers there growing up, talking about girls and niggers and all kinds of things. It was crowded in the summer, with naked white boys, having fun and being teenagers the way we were back then. But, it wasnt summer. In November the nights can get chilly, even in Georgia, and the swimming hole was vacant and I knew it'd stay that way. It was a good place really, yeah, a good place to castrate a nigger, or so those were my thought as I pulled up and parked my pickup. I grabbed the pliers and the fifteen feet of coiled up rope, and when I went down the path my excitement was so great it's hard to really describe. Before I reached the bottom of the trail where it opened up on the swimming hole, I slipped on the white hood, just because I didn't need him recognizing me. When I came out of the bushes, he was there, tied to that Chevy just the way Jennings had told me he would be. God. He heard me coming, and he spun his head to the side and stared at me, and when I saw him there, in the moonlight, all tied out across the hood of that junker, my dick went hard and I felt my heart start racing in my chest. He was a brute of a man, with strong, powerful muscles that literally rippled. They had him tied to the truck, which had been there as long as I could remember. It was just a rusted out hulk, with the windshield broken out, and the tires were long since flat. Somebody had burned it at one time, and there wasn't any paint on it and it was just rusted now. But it was a good place to tie him, and I could see that ropes ran from his wrists out to the two mirrors, or what was left of them, stretching his arms out wide and pulling him up and across the hood. He was tied facing the hood, with his ass out and facing me. His legs were tied to the bumper, and they were stretched so wide that I could see right up the crack of his ass. He had ropes around his knees, lashing him firmly in position, and his bare feet were on the ground but the way he was tied he was half on his toes. He was tied well, and I didn't need my fifteen feet of rope. His big bag of balls was huge, and hanging down, beneath his legs, filled with his eggs and swinging there, ripe for the taking. He was struggling then, as he saw me, his eyes bugged out of his head as he stared at the white hood and took in its meaning. I noticed there was a rag in his mouth and it had been taped in place. It looked like it was his underpants, or what was left of them, and Jennings and his guys must have stuffed them down his throat before they taped his mouth shut. That was good, because he was grunting, and it was clear to me that I didn't want him making too much noise. If he hadn't been gagged he'd probably have been yelling, and while we were in a pretty isolated area I still didn't need him making too much noise. And of course, it was all but a certainty that he'd try and yell like a son of a bitch once I started slicing his balls off. The night was very bright, with a clear sky and a full, crystal moon. I could see him well. His back was glistening, in spite of the coolness in the air, and it was obvious he had been struggling against his bonds and was scared shitless. I knew nothing about him. I had never seen him before, and I didn't know his name, or if he was married. I didn't know if he had kids, and I didn't know where he worked or what he did. All I knew was he was black, as black as the night, and as far as I was concerned that was enough. He had short cropped curly hair and big lips and black skin, and I was going to castrate him, and the thought of it was incredibly invigorating. Yeah, I was going to take his balls because of the color of his skin, and as I got ready to do it my dick was hard in my pants. I went to him then, and felt his smooth, black skin. I felt his sweat, and ran my hands up and over his muscles. His smell was strong, pungent, like he had been working hard and building up a sweat. I felt his firm, powerful ass, and when I slid my hand down between the crack of it, and felt his hole there, he bucked his big hips and jerked hard against his restraints. He was twisted around, so he could watch me, his eyes so big and wide and white that the fear was visible. My white hood had him petrified. I toyed with the hairs on his ass, around his hole, and he didn't like that and he grunted out his protest. He was about my age, but a lot stronger and a lot more powerful. He looked almost like a football player, or a big wrestler, and he had to be almost two hundred pounds of solid muscle. He didn't have a stitch of clothing on. His nipples were pinpoints, and his legs were thick, like a weight lifters, and to me it was obvious he was as strong as an ox. He was a perfect physical specimen, a perfect male, and there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. I hefted his sac. It was heavy, very heavy, and he had some of the biggest balls I'd ever seen on any man. They were a lot bigger than my own sac, that was for sure, and as I hefted them and contemplated stealing them I suddenly had the thought that it would be fun to fuck him first. Now, I wasnt a fag, that was one thing for certain, and so I definitely wasn't into fucking men. But the weird part was that to me he wasnt really a man. No...the way my mind worked he was less than an animal really, yeah, he was just a nigger and his hole was there, spread and open and waiting, waiting to pleasure me if I wanted it to. And for some reason I did. I wanted to dominate him, to show him the power of a white boy, before I took his balls and unmanned him. I kicked off my sneakers, and then dropped my pants, and slipped them off, along with my white underwear. My twenty-three year old prick poked upward, stiff and eager and ready. The tip of it was circumcised, like it was on all my friends, and when he saw my rod jutting upward, he opened his eyes wider and started shaking his head back and forth. I laughed, and then I pushed up against him, and that's when I reached up inside of my hood and spit in my hand. Then, I spread the spittle over my shaft and after that I was ready to mount him like a whore. He struggled and tried to close his legs, but I just laughed, and ignored him as I guided my prick right against his hole. He was struggling so hard then, fighting it, and I could see him squeeze his thighs to protect the entrance to his bowels. I could have cared less. I pushed then, and my cock popped past his ring of muscle. He grunted, and looked away then, across the truck and out to where the river was flowing by. I think he was totally humiliated, and there wasn't any doubt that he didn't like having a white boy's cock up his ass. He felt tight, really tight, and while I had never fucked a man's hole before it felt surprisingly good. I pushed into him as far as my eight inch cock could reach, and then I pulled it almost out and then back in again. In and out, in and out. Yeah....I fucked him. I fucked him fast, and hard, and without any mercy at all. As I did, I talked to him. "Feel my white cock boy? Yeah....I'm fucking your ass! How do you like it? No? You don't? I could care less nigger. I could care less. I'm gonna fill your ass with my seed, and then I'm gonna laugh. And then, after I'm done with you, I'm gonna laugh even more. Know why? I'm your worst nightmare black man. Yeah, your worst nightmare. Cause when I finish fucking your hole I'm going to castrate you." He started to struggle then, really hard. I was aware that his own rod had stiffened, and as he felt me slamming into his prostate he was grunting with every thrust. He was mumbling into his gag, grunting as I was fucking him, and I could feel his ass muscles tighten as he fought to push out my prick which was pounding into him all the way to his prostate. The feeling in my balls grew, and I knew I was going to shoot my wad into his ass. I savored the feeing, and enjoyed it. My orgasm grew closer. Then closer still, and I was right on the verge of cumming then. Suddenly, I reached the point of no return, and just as I did I heard him grunt really loud, and then I felt his anus gripping my cock in rhythmic waves, squeezing my cock and literally milking the semen right out of me. Of course, he was cumming too, squirting his load out over the bumper of the truck, his huge cock squirting out his seed as I was filling up his ass with my own load of spunk. The two of us came together, the white trash boy and the black man, grunting out our loads of cream as we both emptied our balls. Finally, spent, and well satisfied, I pulled my cock out of his hole with a pop. My load of semen was dripping out of his ass, and running down over his big sac of balls and on down his black legs. Between them, dripping off the bumper, was his own load of goo, and there was so much of it that it was almost a puddle in the dirt in front of that old truck. Looking at it, I just couldn't believe it! Man, I didn't know anyone could have that much seed! He was a hell of a man. I reached around in front of him and gripped his hose, and the one thing I immediately noticed was that even as his erection subsided his prick was still long, really long, and the end was big and round and next to him my own pole looked like a boy's. God he had a big dick! But it was his balls that I wanted, and so I let go of his dick. I took the coat hanger, and clipped off a piece of it with the pliers, and then I showed it to him. As he was looking at it, I said "You know nigger...the one thing I think is really hot is this wire. You see, I'm gonna twist it around your balls, really tight. Before I do, I'm gonna loop a piece of rope through the wire, and then I'm gonna tie it to the bumper, so your balls are going to be tied down and stretched out when I cut them from you." His eyes got so damn wide then. I laughed. I then took the coat hanger, and looped it around the top of his nuts. I slipped a piece of rope through the stiff wire loop, and then I took the pliers and started tightening the wire, twisting it closed at the top of his sac. He didnt like that! I was laughing and giggling as I was doing that, and while I was twisting it I verbalized my thoughts to him. "You have one big sac of balls. I'll give you that. Don't you like the noose around your sac? I think it's so fucking hot, and I wish I had time to just walk you around, with the rope through the wire noose and leading you around like a pony. Yeah, it would be fun to tug on your nuts like a leash, and then walk you to your own castration. Well, maybe I'll do that to the next nigger I nut." Then I took the rope and looped it around the bumper, and then I pulled down on it hard, so that it stretched out his sac of balls, and pulled his entire scrotum downward. The wire that was twisted at the top of his sac held the rope, so when I pulled on it the rope pulled on his balls. I jerked the rope so hard his sac almost went to his knees, and he screamed into his gag and it was obvious it hurt like hell. The wire itself seemed sharp, and it was pressing into his nuts and it had to be a hell of a feeling. It was so hot, just so damn hot, and as I contemplated the scene of him literally tied by his balls to the bumper of that truck I grew hard all over again. I couldn't take my eyes off that wire noose around his nuts. God. GOD! I fingered my Gerber, and I knew it was time. I decided to just take his entire sac with a single slice. Just before I did though, I don't really know why, but I had this funny thought that he wished it was me instead of him. I could see his hatred, and I laughed at it. While he stared at me I said to him: "Hey nigger....bet you wish it was my balls all noosed up? Don't you boy? Yeah...admit it....you wish it was the white boy's balls that had the wire around them! Well...too bad!" Now, I don't really know why I did what I did next, but I did and now, these years later, it's important enough to the story that I at least share the tale. I decided to play with him, and so I took the coat hanger, and clipped off another piece of wire, and then, taking the pliers, I formed a loop of it around my own sac of balls. On a whim really I picked up an end of the rope I had thrown on the ground, and since it was just there and wasnt needed for anything I slipped in the end of the rope into the loop of wire, which really didn't accomplish much of anything. But I made the knot, so my own sac of balls was just like the niggers, all tied out and wired, with a rope tied through the loop of wire. I twisted the wire loop until it was good and tight, drawing up the top of my scrotum and trapping my two nuts low in my sac. As I felt it squeezing there I got so fucking hard, and it was an intense feeling and I'll never forget it. I think looking back I just wanted to feel it, the feeling of having my own balls noosed and tied up exactly like the niggers, even though it was only for a moment and I'd be soon taking it off. His eyes got really wide when he watched me do that, and then I mocked him as I tugged gently on the rope that went to my own sac. As I pulled on it, my own sac of nuts was pulled outward, and my cock was so fucking hard at that point I wanted to fuck him all over again. That surprised me, but in less than a minute I was as hard as a piece of steel, so hard in fact that the end of my dick was flared out big and purple. He was staring at my white cock then, and that noose and rope that were around my own balls, and I laughed at it as I could see the desire in his head and knew what he was wishing for. I dropped the rope that was now wired around my nuts and laughed. God I could see how much he wanted to nut me! Well, yeah, like I said, too fucking bad! I almost took the wire loop off then, but I wasnt in any hurry and I decided to nut him first instead. I was just so turned on, and having my balls noosed while I unmanned him just made it so hot it is hard to describe. At any rate, I picked up my Gerber then, and went to him, between his legs, and grasp the man's big sac and wrapped my fist around it. I set the knife right then at the top of his sac, just under the wire loop, and as I did I grinned. Feeling the wire loop around my own balls as I did that just intensified the experience, even though I of course was just playing and for me it was nothing but a game. But for him, and for his balls, it was all deadly serious and he of course realized that things were about to happen that would change him from a man to something less than one. It was a totally hot experience. I could feel the constriction at the top of my own sac, while I was holding his scrotum, and the feeling of touching his wire and the rope that had his balls stretched out and ready for my knife, was intense. I laughed, and then I said "You ready nigger? You're about to get castrated by a white boy. I hope you enjoy the experience. You might not like it, but I guarantee you will never forget it." The big black man tensed with every single muscle in his body, straining and pulling so damn hard against his restraints. He sure didn't want to lose his balls! He was straining so hard that every vein in his neck was popping out, and as I saw his back rippling in the moonlight I could literally see the sweat dripping off of him. He struggled and fought the ropes with every ounce of his strength, and I laughed at his desperation. I tensed my right arm, preparing to make the quick pull that would unman him. I think at that point he knew it was all but over, and his big thighs were tensed in anticipation. He slammed his eyes closed and then his face grimaced as he prepared himself for what was to come. Still, even so, he never gave in, and his shoulder muscles were jerking and pulling with everything he had, tugging on his ropes as if some miracle might save him. I pushed the edge of the knife right against his sack then, so he could feel it, before I made the jerk and took his bag. Then, for some reason I really don't know, I changed my mind, a new thought entering my brain, and when it hit me I started to giggle. Instead of taking it quick, I decided to do it slow, so he could live every second as I took his nuts. With that thought, I slowly, very slowly, started to saw my blade back and forth, just slowly working it against the side of his scrotum so he could feel it happen. I was grinning then, and just as I started to nut him, and long before my blade did much of anything to him, he screamed into his gag in a total panic, and with a desperation that knew no bounds. He screamed and screamed and screamed, and as he screamed he pulled so hard on his restraints that the entire truck shook. Looking back of course I should have just jerked my wrist and taken his bag with a single, fast slice of the knife, just as I had originally intended to do. But, I didn't. No, I wanted him to feel it all, to make it hurt like hell and to show him what a white boy could do to him. So, as I started to slowly saw his balls off and he started screaming, I burst out laughing. Yeah, I was grinning as I started that sawing motion, and then, suddenly, and without any warning at all, there was this loud and very sharp snap sound, and then in a flash his right hand just slammed back into me, reaching right around behind him and between his legs so fast that it was just a blur. His hand went right to where it needed to go, guided by the feeling of the blade against this balls. I was so stunned I didn't immediately realize what had happened. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!? He had snapped the rope! His right arm was free! For a short second I was still in control, and I should have jerked the knife then, hard and fast, and if I had he'd have been nutted and that would have probably done him in and prevented what followed. But, shit, I was just taken totally by surprise, and as a result I hesitated. In that split second he had my hand and my knife and then I was fighting him for the blade and everything was in the balance. OH GOD... I struggled....fighting for the control of my knife. But he was so fucking strong! Almost before I knew what was happening he twisted my wrist and jerked my entire arm forward and into the metal of the truck, and it hit hard and with a bang. Then he did it again, pulling my hand back and then up again, slamming it forward and into the metal so hard I thought my hand would break. ARGHHHH! I gripped the knife and he gripped it too, and as he folded my wrist back on itself I felt the knife slipping from my grasp. SHIT! I tried desperately to hold on to it, and yet he was so fucking strong and the adrenaline was surging through his body. In another instant, he had wrestled the knife from me, and while I tried to grab for it again the truth is that he was bigger than me by an order of magnitude and I didn't have a chance. Still, I tried to get my knife back, to grab his one free hand that was holding it, but as I reached for it with two hands he slashed out with the blade, almost slicing open my entire arm, and then with another slicing motion he almost slashed open my chest, and it was only with luck that I jumped back in time. When I jumped back, out of the way, he jerked the knife right across the hood of that truck, and right to the rope that went to his still tied out left wrist. He was pulling it taut, very taut, so as soon as my sharpened blade touched it the rope parted with a "thwaaaat" sound. He spun around then, his two arms free, and I tried to go to him again one more time before he could get loose but he had the fucking knife and he was slashing it through the air at me and at that point I just couldn't even get close to him. Instead, all I could do was stay away from the knife, and wait for an opening, all the while watching helplessly as he cut the ropes that held him down one after the other. I was literally stunned with disbelief, and then, when he cut the rope that was stretching his balls to the bumper of the truck, that's when it hit me. HE WAS ALMOST FREE! I couldn't stop him and in a flash I realized I was in very serious trouble. He was pissed, really pissed, and the man whose ass I had just raped and whose balls I had tried to steal now had my knife and suddenly I realized things were going to shit in a hurry. That's when I took off running...running full out, as he was cutting the last of the ropes that still were tied around his feet and his knees. I jerked off the white hood so I could see to run, and dropped it as I bolted up the path and headed for my truck. I had to run fast, as I had to make it to my truck. I knew I had to run like the wind and to get the hell out of there! As I was scrambling up the path towards the road I had the thought that I had luckily left the keys in the ignition, so all I really had to do was to get inside and to lock the doors, and then I could get away no matter what he did. So, I ran. Yeah, I ran like the wind. Even barefoot, I ran faster than I had ever run in my life. When I got to the top of the path by the road I heard him coming, and I ran even faster then. As I was running I was aware of the rope I was dragging....the fucking rope that was still looped through the stupid wire that I had twisted tight around the top of my own bag. OH GOD HOW COULD I BE THAT STUPID? Of course, I hadn't planned to keep the rope on my balls very long, and so when I had pulled it through the wire and knotted it I hadn't worried about how long the rope was. When I had done it, on a whim, it was just a piece of rope, just something to play with for a few minutes, like a toy of sorts, and yet now it was all so much more than that. Yeah, suddenly that little piece of rope that was tied to the wire that was cinched tight around the top of my nutsac was just so damn important I can't describe it. At that moment, it was the most important thing in the world. Well, it didn't help matters that it was fifteen feet long. As I was running full out I could feel it, trailing behind me and all stretched out. I could feel it pulling through the grass and the bushes as it tugged on my balls. I couldnt stop to take it off, that was for sure, and I sure as hell couldn't take the time to reel it in either. With the thick coat hanger twisted tight around my balls and the rope through it, I knew it was a bad situation. So I ran....like the wind. I ran as fast as I could. I saw my truck, across the bridge, and for a few seconds I figured I'd make it. It was my only hope, my only salvation! But he was fast, faster than me, and when I glanced over my shoulder I saw him running full out, my open Gerber in his right fist and with an expression on his face of pure hatred. God he was pissed! The steel flashed in the moonlight, and the fear went through me. It was obvious that he was closing the space between us. I could see a piece of the white rope still hanging between his legs and tied around his own balls, still looped through the wire that I had twisted around his nuts. But his rope was short, where he had sliced it off with my Gerber, and so it wasnt dragging him back or slowing him down. I knew I'd reach the truck about the same time he did. I tried to run faster, but when I looked over my shoulder again he was closer still, and I could see him and the rope I was trailing and I suddenly knew he'd catch up with it. Oh GOD! My heart was pounding in my chest, just pounding, and my lungs heaved for air. I had the thought that when he reached the rope he could just step on it, and if that happened then I'd be done. I could imagine the pain shooting into my balls when the rope went tight, and how it would pull me from my feet and I'd crumple from the pain. And of course, he had my knife, and he was obviously very pissed, and suddenly I had the thought that everything was at stake. EVERYTHING! Fuck I was scared. Hell, he might even kill me! I turned again to look, and his feet were almost at the rope and oh GOD....HE WAS ALMOST THERE! I was half way across the bridge when I realized I was out of time. I don't know....just don't know really, but I remember a rumor I had heard as a kid, that niggers can't swim. Anyway, that was what I was thinking, and so just before he reached me I turned sharply, and then, without a seconds hesitation I just dove headfirst off the side of the bridge. I went out, my hands and arms stretched out in a perfect dive, my feet together and my toes pointed in almost perfect form. I could see the moonlight off the water, and I could see the bridge and its reflection. I stretched out, watching the safety of the water coming up to greet me, and for perhaps a brief second, I had the thought I might even make it. Twenty feet is a long way to dive, and I hadn't done it in quite a few years. As a kid we had mostly jumped off the bridge, feet first, and this time I was diving and I hadn't thought it out. A thousand thoughts flew through my brain even in those seconds I was in the air. Was the water depth the same? Was I in the right spot? God...I needed to hit the water straight, and I couldn't see well enough to judge the angle. Yeah, my mind was racing, a thousand miles an hour as I soared out and down, picking up speed by the second. My mind was focused like never before, and I had a plan and knew exactly what I'd do once I hit the water. Yeah, if I survived the plunge I knew I'd swim down river as fast as I could, and I even knew a place where I could hide if he came after me. I was a good swimmer, a strong swimmer, and I had once carried the day on my high school swim team. Yeah, I had all those thoughts, all of them, and all in an instant, my mind racing, as I dove off of that bridge and for my life. Suddenly, I remembered the rocks near the middle piling, and for a split second I had the thought I might be diving into them. Just then I and the water and everything else became one and the same. I felt this tremendous sharp pain, like a bolt of lightening, and it ripped all the way through my body with a shock that defied description. It seared through me, and in me, and became a part of me, with such intensity I thought I had been shot. The pain just exploded in my brain, far greater than any pain I had ever felt in my entire life, and then, just as it was ripping through my soul, I realized I had slammed into the water with an unbelievable speed, and in that instant the pain and the water just totally enveloped me. I found out you can scream underwater, and I did. I remember that distinctly, the pain shooting through my entire body as I hit the water really hard and I screamed for my life. I had no idea what had happened. None. For a second I thought I had hit the river bottom or smashed headfirst into a rock and had broken my neck. The pain radiated through my entire body, and it was so intense and so unbelievable that I couldnt even define it or place it. I saw flashes of light in my eyes, and I almost passed out. Then, just in time, I saw the moonlight, and headed for it, out of air, and the surface a very long way off. God I was deep! Even under water I gagged, and as I held my breath I stroked for the moonlight, the pain still deep and primal and unbelievable. Finally, I hit the surface, and just in time, and there, then, gasping for air, it was then that I saw him. I took it all it, him, and the bridge, and everything suddenly was crystal clear. He was standing on the bridge, laughing, a deep throaty laugh and when I looked up to see him he was holding the other end of the rope that I had attached to my own balls. I stared, in disbelief really, but I'll never forget the sight as long as I live. He was holding that rope, just gripping it, his powerful fist wrapped around the end of it and he leaning over the rail and looking right down at me. On the other end of the rope was my entire scrotum, still stuffed with my balls and now unattached from me and dangling, swinging in the night air and still noosed with the wire. My bag was hanging like a piece of bait on the end of a fishing line! Shit! OH FUCK! OH GOD! My sac of balls was only a few feet off the water, right there in front of me, and there wasnt any doubt what it was. When I saw it, my lily white scrotum full of the essence of my manhood, it almost seemed to be quivering as if it had a life of its own. I gagged and the bile came up in my throat and I tried to swallow it back down. Then it came back up again, and I vomited, and as I did I reached down between my legs and felt an emptiness that shocked me to the core. My balls! OH GOD--MY BALLS HAD BEEN RIPPED COMPLETELY OFF! He laughed and laughed, and then as the current carried me downriver he just dropped the rope and my severed sac of nuts into the river, and turned his back and disappeared then from my sight. I couldn't swim really; the pain was just too great to even kick my feet. Instead, I just floated down with the current, the pain shooting up from between my legs, and as I felt it radiating up from my groin I heard my truck start up and that's when I started to cry. I ended up a mile down river, before I finally managed to get myself out. The first thing I did was reach for my nuts, to where they had been at least, but of course they weren't there. There was nothing there! The wire was gone, and the rope, and my balls -- all missing just as I knew they were. It was hard to see it in the moonlight, but I could see well enough to know I had been unmanned. My cock was still there, but it was shrunken, flopping off to the side like a dead worm and it too was hurting like a son of a bitch. Something inside had torn in there, and my cock was hanging at an odd angle and there was a wound underneath it that was anything but trivial. I touched my cock but I couldn't feel it. Shit. Right then I knew it would never be good for anything again. I was bleeding some too, and I knew I had bled the entire time I had been in the water, but it was hard to know how much really. Yeah, it was hard to tell how bad it was, but I knew it wasn't good that was for sure. I took off my t-shirt and stuffed it in between my legs to try and get the bleeding under control. I was way too weak to move, and all of the strength was gone from my body. OH GOD. I whimpered like a little boy then....the feeling just so overwhelming I can't really describe it. I just lay naked then, doubled over and holding my shirt in my crotch and gasping from the pain. I felt so fucking stupid! I was castrated! Gelded! My balls had literally been ripped right off of me as if I was just some barnyard animal! I shivered there most of the night, trying to generate enough strength to walk back to the highway. The bile came back up in my throat and I vomited several more times. When the sun cracked across the eastern horizon I forced myself to start walking, and I somehow managed to get back to the bridge around nine in the morning. I took the time then to find my pants. They were right where I left them, still bunched up where I had fucked him, and the ropes were still tied to the truck, cut short where he had swiped them with my Gerber. The puddle of his spunk was still there too, although it had pretty much soaked into the ground and was just a dark place in the soil now. I kept the blood-soaked t-shirt stuffed between my legs and I then put on my underwear to hold it in place. Finally, I put my jeans on, and then my sneakers. Then, I climbed the path back to the road and waited to hitch a ride into town. I looked like shit, and without my shirt the first dozen vehicles just sped by and didn't give me a second look. Finally, after about an hour I got lucky, from a teenage boy with a punk hair cut and a wisp of a mustache. The kid looked sixteen or seventeen, but he told me in very short order that he was eighteen and finishing up his senior year in high school. I had seen him around town but I couldn't place him. He was a handsome kid, the kind the girls go for, and as I looked at him and his perfect growing body I was envious of it right from the beginning. He kept eyeing me as he drove, but not saying much, and as I stared at him and shivered in the cab of his truck I couldn't help but notice the bulge in his pants. I didn't think he was boned, at least not at first I didn't, but even so as I stared at his package I found I was envious. Shit. With the t-shirt shoved in my underwear to stem the bleeding, I looked like I had popped a boner myself, and as I looked at him he was lookin at me and he started grinning. Fuck...I was trying to figure him out. I'm sure he had a lot of questions, and I knew I was something to look at. Yeah, I looked like shit, and without my shirt I felt awkward the way he kept staring at me. Then, right out of the blue, he said "You look hot with your shirt off." FUCK. HE WAS A FUCKIN FAG! I turned toward him, and just before I started to mouth off to him I stopped myself. Shit, at least he was giving me a ride, and right then I was way too weak to get out or to try walking again. Still, dealing with a queer right then just wasn't something I was up to handling, and sex was the very last thing on my mind. So, I just ignored his comment, and I put my arms over my chest, crossing them, as if to protect myself if nothing else. I stared out the window. Even so, I was aware he was still looking at me, staring at the big pouch in my pants that was stuffed with my T-shirt, as if I had some big package and he wanted a taste of it. I was nervous as hell. I looked back at the boy, and he licked his lips, and smiled. God....I just couldn't believe it, that I was riding in a vehicle without my balls, and of all things with some guy who was lusting after my body. Still, I didn't say anything to him, but he kept grinning at me. He stared at me the entire trip into town, staring at the bulge in my pants, and all I could do was look at the window and feel the tears in my eyes. He had the body to pleasure any girl, and yet he was lookin at ME! Shit. I figured he was just a sexed up teenager, and perhaps he'd change his mind if he ever tried fucking a pussy. I had no idea why he was interested in me, and the way I hated fags I just couldn't believe I was sittin there and not saying anything back to him as he leered at me. I had this funny thought though, as I sensed his interest, and it occurred to me that even if he was a fag he was a lot more of a man than I would ever be again. Yeah, he was just a teenager with growing balls, and it was obvious he was still sprouting his way through puberty, the hair on his upper lip a testament to the power of the balls he carried between his legs. God I was so damn envious. As I looked at him it occurred to me he was a teenage fucking machine, horny as hell and with a big hard cock that was ready for action. As I had that thought it added immensely to my depression. I guess it was because I knew my own fucking days were over, and as I looked at him looking at me I started to tear up. I was whimpering then, and I bit my lip to hold back the tears. When he saw me doing that he stopped talking and I could tell he had no idea what to say. Shit. I was a mess, and I thought about asking him to drop me at the hospital, but I knew that would bring the cops, and even hurting as much as I was I wasnt about to be that stupid. So instead I said little to the boy until we got to town, and I just had him drop me off at JENNINGS TIRES. As he did, he gave me his name, and his phone number, and then he said "I'm Tommy, Tommy Murphy. If you want to call me feel free any time." I threw his number in the trash when I walked into the tire shop, and had the thought I'd never call him in a hundred years. Yeah, by the time he dropped me off I was just totally glad to get out of there. I was in the need of a real friend right then, but right away I knew I wasn't in the right place for that. In fact, Jennings wasn't too pleased to see me, as I made quite a stir when I walked into his tire shop. He got me into his office right away, and then when he found out the nigger had gotten away and I had fucked things up he seemed pissed at me more than anything else. He definitely wasnt very happy, and he wasn't very sympathetic to my story or what had happened to me either. Still, he did make a few phone calls and found me a doctor that knew enough not to ask too many questions. There wasn't much the doctor could do of course. He stitched up some of the damage, and the rest he said nature would have to heal. He did give me some pain killers, which helped a lot, and some antibiotics too to keep things from getting infected. I was pretty much out of it for a while, and I lost my two bit job because I couldn't get to work. I was out my balls and my truck, and life had just turned to shit and all at once. As for me, I could hardly walk for several days. It took several weeks to heal, if you can call it healing. My dick was a dead hose, and while I could piss with it that was all it was good for. Without my dick, and with my balls gone too, my girl left me, of course, and after that I just stayed home and felt sorry for myself. The cops found my truck, with the keys still in it and parked by some bus station all the way down in Putnam County. It was almost out of gas, but other than that it was just as I had left it. I hadnt expected that. I figured if nothing else he would trash my truck, just because he could. But he didn't do that, and while I'll never really know why I was grateful to get it back. But that was the only good that came my way. Things didn't improve for me, not at all. In Georgia farm country, a gelded man is just about worthless, and secrets don't stay secrets very long. Jennings talked, and people listened. Before very long it seemed that everyone knew I had lost my balls and not a single former friend of mine even wanted to talk with me. In their eyes I wasn't a man and consequently my friends dumped me like a piece of garbage. To add insult to the entire experience, about two weeks after it had happened Jennings came over with a beer in his hand, and I thought he was coming to cheer me up. But I was wrong. He didn't come for that. No, as a eunuch, I wasn't really part of the inner circle anymore, and so he didn't come over to be my friend. Instead, he came to collect his hundred. I quit the KKK after that. It held no appeal for me, and I didn't even blame the black man for my castration. I came to realize, and to accept really, that I had essentially castrated myself. When I lost my balls the anger I had felt inside left me too, and slowly I started seeing people for who they were, and not for the color of their skin or the religion they followed or the sexual preference they held. As for sex, I never jerked off again, and in fact even now all these years later I still havent had an erection since I fucked that hunk of a man that was tied to that truck. I lost interest in girls, and tits, and within a few weeks of my castration I didn't even want to fuck a pussy anymore. And then, just about the time I was thinking of killing myself, the boy who had given me a ride came back into my life with a knock on my door. The strange part is that I let him in, and right away he told me that he had heard about what had happened and had come to see if I needed anything. God...he seemed to really care, and I started to talk and he sat and listened to me in ways nobody else had before. Suddenly, I didn't hate him like I had, and I realized I needed his friendship more than I needed anything else before. I started to cry, and he held me in his arms, and as I sobbed it all out he held me close and made me feel wanted and important. I finally got up the courage to show him my wilted cock and empty groin, and that seemed to fascinate him and it didn't turn him off. He stayed with me then that night, and the next, and over the weeks that followed Tommy taught me that there are other ways to have sex, and before I even realized it I was having my own ass hammered by him on a regular basis. I found that I enjoyed spreading my legs and feeling his pole, and sometimes if he was pushing into me hard enough I even found pleasure where I had thought it was lost. I also learned to suck his cock and to swallow a load. As the months passed Tommy finally went his own way, but not until I was healed inside and accepting things as they had come to be. After he left I found myself thinking of the other man, with darker skin and powerful muscles, and the way he had smelled and how big his cock had been. I couldn't get him out of my mind, and by the time a few more years had past I no longer saw the world as black and white, gay or straight, and in the end the really weird part is that my best friend in life turned out to be African American. We live together now, and I open my hole for him whenever he asks, and, hard as it is to believe, I really love sucking him off. He's got a huge rod, and a big fat set of balls, and when he's shooting his big load of jism down my throat or into my ass he reminds me of the only man that I ever tried to nut. God I love him! Who would have thought? [Authors note: Adult fiction. ©Copyright November, 2004. All rights reserved. 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