I grew up on a dairy farm, and milking the cows was one of my chores. My mom died after I was born so it was only my dad and I, and our farm wasn't a big one and we barely made the ends meet. My dad was always working hard, and he made me do everything that had to be done so I learned to work hard too. I got tired of it, and I hated it. I hated the farm and the cows and the stalls and the shit. Yeah, I hated it all. Still, all through high school I worked my chores, hooking up the milker and extracting the milk that paid our bills. We sold most of it right out of the cows, but some of it we turned into butter and some we made into cheese.

I hated dairy farming, and I hated running the milker. Still, I was good at it, and my dad depended on me. But by the time I was a senior in high school I knew I wanted to do something else with my life, and I was leaning toward veterinary medicine. As far as I could see it, the vet made the real money and he sure didn't have to shovel shit to make it. And, compared to the chores that made up my teenage life, from what I could tell he didn't do all that much. I read everything I could about the field, and watched the vet and helped him whenever he came to the farm. He liked me, and taught me a lot and let me help and the closer we got the more I wanted to be like him.

Then, in my senior year of high school, just before graduation, the bank foreclosed on the farm and when that happened my father couldn't take it. He had his heart attack two days before my eighteenth birthday, leaving me with nothing but a beater truck the bank didn’t want and an old run down milking machine that wasn't worth auctioning. The bank took the farm and everything else, which they sold. That was really humiliating, watching all the stuff we had owned getting sold for peanuts to those I had known. After it was all done there was nothing for me. Still, I hung around the area and the vet let me move in with him and finish up my senior year. At the time I figured he felt sorry for me, and not knowing what else to do I accepted his offer.

I graduated, and then that summer after high school I kept doing the things I knew, doing the farm chores only this time on other farms and for other farmers. I didn't get paid shit though, and yet I shoveled it and moved it. I fed cows, milked cows, and worked cows. When I came home the vet was nice to me, and slowly over time he let me do more and more. It was obvious he had taken a liking to me, and he taught me a lot of shit and let me help him do a lot of things. Soon I was his assistant, helping in the different procedures and learning the trade. With him at my side he finally let me do my first procedure, a simple dog castration. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be, and soon I was doing them regularly. He always did the bitches, but he trusted me and so soon enough I was doing most of the males. I didn’t have a license of course, and he was always there when I was doing them.

Now, when you grow up on a farm nutting animals is just something you do, so its not as big a deal I suppose at it would be to someone from the city. But you do the livestock castrations on young animals, and its not that big a deal when it is done early. For the bigger or older animals things are much more difficult, and for those you need a vet. I learned a lot. I helped him with a few stallions, learning how to geld the big animals, and we had to do a bull once and I helped there too. Soon I grew more confident, and after a while it didn't matter to me how big the scrotum was or how old the balls were inside. Generally, a basic castration is pretty easy and I listened well and did them right. I might have become a vet even, if I could have saved the money to go to school, but then one night it all changed and after that I didn't want to be a vet anymore.

One evening like most nights it was just him and me, and he offered me a beer and I took it. I was on my second one when out of the blue he popped a video in the player and it was then that I got to watch my first porn film. It was a bisexual film, with a lot of fucking and sucking. As he sat beside me I was staring at the images and I grew rock hard, and yet it felt odd with him sitting there and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. Up to that time sex had been nothing more than a fantasy. Sure, I had jacked off like teenage boys do, but at eighteen I hadn't done anything and the entire idea of fucking a girl scared me shitless. As the film was going he commented on my boner, and I blushed red.

When the film turned gay and two of the guys were going down on one another, and with the girl there and encouraging it, I grew even harder but yet I was embarrassed to be watching. I had no idea what to say, and I slowly became aware he was watching me as I watched the film. Then I turned to him to make sure, and it was then that he came onto me, and before I knew it he had his hand on my pants and was feeling my boner that was jutting inside.

I looked down, and he said "You sure are hard dude. You ought to let that out before it gets crushed in there."

I stammered, not knowing what to say or what to do. Then, he just unzipped my jeans and opened the button, and as soon as he did my shaft was jutting up, eager. I was so embarrassed! Then, he just took my dick in his hands. I had no idea what to do at that point, and a thousand feelings flooded my brain. About then, as I was starting to think about protesting, he pulled my face to his and kissed me, deep, and as he did that he stroked my rod and God it felt so damn good! He was old enough to be my dad, and my heart was pounding in my chest, just pounding. I knew it wasn’t right and yet my dick was rock hard and for some reason I wanted it to continue.

I had never had sex with anyone, and I just wasn’t prepared for what followed. He pulled my pants down then to my knees and then he went down and just sucked me off. When I ejaculated he sat back on the couch and opened his own pants, and then he pulled me to him and so I did the same to him.

I still remember that first time, with the porn movie playing on the screen, when I shot my wad in his mouth. Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember too the moment when I swallowed his rod and felt the power of his erection. I wanted his dick, yeah, I wanted it, needed it even. It was almost like my entire life had been waiting for that moment when I could feel a dick in my mouth. Another thing I remember is that when I was sucking on his dick I suddenly felt his jism, without any warning, and as it squirted down my throat hot and spurting I gagged and almost vomited. I spit out his load, and he laughed and laughed. When I looked at him he was grinning, a bit of my jism still in the corner of his mouth, where he had swallowed every drop of mine.

I just had no idea what to do then. But he did, and he knew what he wanted. After we had sucked each other off he took me to his bedroom, where we both got naked and slid under the covers. Part of me wanted to be there, and yet another part of me didn’t. He felt my pole, and played with it, nibbling on my ear as he stroked me until I was hard again. Then, without any hesitation he sucked me off again, swallowing every drop of my teenage spunk as if it was sweet cream. Things probably would have been alright at that point if he had just let them be, but later that night he rolled me over onto his pillow and then fucked my ass, and I felt cheap after that and I hated him then. Still, I liked it too, which scared the shit out of me. It felt wrong, but yet I squirted out another load of sperm into his pillow at the same time he pumped my ass full of his cream.

It was too much for me, way too much, and I told him off and got mad after that. I was scared, and I just wasn't ready to handle it all. The next morning I felt guilty as shit, and so without another word I left him then, and got in my truck and never looked back. For some reason, I took my dad's milking machine. I don't know why I took it, but it was all that was left from my dad and so it was important to me.

So, there I was, at eighteen, with nothing going for me and with nowhere to go. I knew though I was gay, yeah, after that night I knew it for sure, and having tasted a guy's rod I knew I wanted it again. So, like a lot of country boys, I headed out to the city to make my fortune, and to find another guy whose dick I could suck. I was young and naïve and I went from odd job to odd job. Through all of it I kept that milking machine. It wasn't that big, and so I just lugged it around. Little did I know that it would come back into my life and be important again.

How I went from that stage in my life to where I am now is a long story and it's not important. Lets suffice it to say I had some skills in certain areas, from my years on the farm and my time with the vet. I liked guys, and the lifestyle that grew out of that brought me to other people where I learned other things. Finally I met the right people where things eventually clicked for me and now I am putting my talents to good use and making some decent money for the first time. It's not exactly the dairy business, but its close enough and it pays a hell of a lot better.

I shake the thought and look at the chair. Yeah...just an old dentist chair, but with the stirrups and straps I had on it there was no way a man could get out of it. This time the man they had brought to me was in his early twenties, full of spirit, and sexual energy, and as I stared at him knowing what was going to happen my own dick went hard. He had no idea of course, none. But I don't question the details, and I don't question the reason. All I know is when the beeper goes off I do it, and the pay is good and I enjoy it. Yeah, when they bring them to me I nut them, and I just do it like it’s a job.

Vets do a lot of castrations, and while I'm not a vet as I said I was trained by one, and of course that's where I learned the procedure. It actually isn't that difficult, and while a man's sac is different than a dog's, or a bull's, or a stallion's, it's not that different, and the pay is better and it's a lot more enjoyable than cleaning out dog cages at the vets or shoveling shit for peanuts at some dairy farm. And it’s a lot better than milking cows too. So, yeah, I like the chair and the fun of using it.

This time the beeper had gone off late, and they brought him in around midnight, blindfolded and with his hands cuffed behind his back. Still, it took four of them to get him stripped and into my chair. God he fought! They left his underpants on for me, but they took the rest of his clothes off and then they left. It's important that the man to be castrated only sees me. He never sees the others, and while he might guess who is doing this to him he really can't prove anything, and while I'm doing the cutting the men he might involve as suspects will be out making an alibi. They need a few hours to get that done, and so I'm never in any hurry and there is some time to have some fun. Still, there is a risk to them, because whatever he has done that got him brought to me no doubt involves others. After he is castrated he will do a lot of thinking, and he may have at least some suspicion on who it was that paid to have it done to him. That in turn could lead to the men who run the business I am in. But of course, he won't be able to prove it, and without the proof it will never come back to me. And as for me, I don’t get out much, and am an unknown really, a recluse of sorts and so I could care less if he sees me.

I turn on the television, and let it play. The man who pays me purchased it for me, as well as gave me this house, and it’s a hell of a set by any standard. The television signal runs through a hard drive, one of the new satellite systems, and so as I turn it on I have already set it up to play what has been missed. Because it's not exactly live tv, I have control over it, and so it is running the shows and commercials that were actually played out two full hours ago. It will play two full hours behind all night, and will do so continuously. Later, he may be questioned by the police, and they will try and determine when he was nutted. Of course, he will remember the television, and so he will tell them what he heard, and that in turn will set the time of his castration.

He'll be certain of the time too, as they say a man remembers everything he hears when the knife is moved and his balls are taken. The problem of course is that he will be two hours off, two full hours, and that's enough time for the men who are having this done to be seen somewhere else, by a lot of people who will swear beyond any doubt that they could have had nothing to do with any of this at the time it was all being done. It's just an extra precaution, which hasn't been needed, but its there, just in case.

It won't protect me though, because he will see me and so he will know I am the one who is doing this to him. But he doesn’t know me, or who I am, or where he is, and so while he will know with certainty what the guy who castrated him looked like, there isn't much he can do with the information once he is back on the street. Sure, he can go to the cops, or the hospital, and he may. But in the end it won't matter. He doesn’t know enough to finger anyone, and anyone he might suspect will have been seen by so many people over the exact period he thinks he was abducted and castrated that it won't make any difference. He could spend hours at the police station looking through pictures of known criminals, hoping to get lucky and to finger me. But I'm not there and if he does it will be a waste of time.

I watched him struggle as they strapped him into my chair. This time wasn't any different, and so I just let them get him stripped and strapped down while I licked my lips in anticipation. Usually they are older, and fatter too, but this one was hot as shit and I knew he would be fun to nut. At any rate, after they had gone, I turned on the video camera and then I went to him and ripped his underpants off, which left him stark naked then. I took off his blindfold next, because I like to look them in their eyes when I take their balls, and he had no idea who I was. As for the gag, I left it in place. I really didn't want to hear his side of things, and I knew I was going to nut him no matter what he would say. So, it is just easier if he said nothing to me. Of course, as I pulled his blindfold and he blinked from the light, if he hadn't been gagged he would have been screaming up a storm. As it was he could only mumble and jerk around a little, his legs spread and his cock and balls fully exposed and on display. After that, I just did what had to be done, taking my time but working efficiently non-the-less.

First of course, I had to shave him. The hair interferes with the machine for one thing, and when its time to take his balls its better to have things clean. So, I shaved him, taking his pubic hair first, followed by the hair on his balls. When I was done with him he was as smooth as a ten year old, his hairless groin looking funny now. I washed his groin then, and then I swabbed on some antiseptic on his balls, giving them an orange color. I wanted him ready so when the time came I could start cutting.

He was a good looking man. I liked his blue eyes and dirty blond hair. He was tall, with a flat stomach and strong muscles that rippled. He had pumped some weights at some point, to impress the girls no doubt, and as I looked at his ripped body it occurred to me it had taken hours at the gym to make him into what he was. Of course, without his balls it would all be for nothing, and soon enough the trimness of his powerful body would be lost to him. I stared at his balls, bulging in his scrotum. More than any gymnasium, it was they that gave him his drive and spirit, and it was they that powered his cock and caused it to grow stiff and give him his sexual thoughts. He had a big sack of nuts, and as I looked at the power cells of his manhood I started to get really hard. He was going to be fun to nut, and I was eager and I liked his package.

His dick was limp, from his fear no doubt, but it was circumcised and I liked that. More of the younger ones these days still have their skin, and I like it better when their prick's trimmed and I can see it exposed from the very beginning. His prick was thin, the way it is on a teenager, and it was obvious he was still sprouting into manhood. There wasn't any hair on his chest for one thing, not yet, and now of course there never would be. He did have a thin wisp of a mustache, and a little bit of stubble beneath his chin. The mustache made me grin. It too was a wasted effort, and while it wasn’t much now, I'm sure he was hoping that in the weeks to come it would become something more. Well, after tonight was over it wouldn't be doing anymore of anything. It occurred to me he might as well just shave it off.

In some ways he was a kid, but he was older, in his twenties, and the one certainty was that he had been around long enough to piss off somebody. As I looked at his package I wondered if there had been a girl at the root of it. That seems to be one of the most common reasons that they get brought to me, and I know I've nutted more than a few because of their dicks and where they have been. With him, I had no idea, and didn't really care either. Still, looking at his dick and balls, there was a good chance I was looking at the very reason he was here.

It didn't matter, and I took some of he lube next and squirted it onto his pole. Like I said, his thin dick wasn't hard, but it soon would be, and as I poured on the lube and then grabbed his rod to work it into his shaft he grunted and the look of anger came into his eyes. He was pissed, and it was quite apparent that he didn't like some stranger, especially another man, grabbing his dick and playing with it.

Still, the young man's dick grew, the way a young man's dick always grows when its being stimulated. After I had him mostly erect, I dropped his rod and went to the machine. It's of course my dad's dairy milking machine, slightly modified, and I grabbed the vacuum suction tube and popped a pickup hose to the end of it. The tube is clear, made of polycarbonate plastic, and you can see inside without any difficulty. Then, I checked the clear ribbed sleeve inside of it, which is made to do the work, and seeing it was all in order, I moved it over and positioned it between his legs. He was staring at me as I was doing it, and I could see the questioning look on his face. I figured it was time to tell him what was in store for him, as he had waited long enough and he might as well know.

"Hey guy, know what this is? It's a milker. You know, the kind of thing you might use if you wanted to milk a dairy cow. It’s a great machine, and this one's been modified a little so it fits more than a cow's teat. You see, in just a minute I'm going to slip this over your dick, and then I'm going to let this machine here give you a sucking you'll never forget."

He started struggling then, and the look on his face was one that is hard to describe. It was obvious he didn't like what he was hearing. I then said "When you're done shooting wads and your balls are completely empty, then I'm going to steal them from your bag and leave you a eunuch. Don't worry, except for castrating you, I'm not going to hurt you, and by morning you'll be back wherever you came from, minus your balls of course."

He was looking at me, the fear now filling his face, and I grinned then. Then I said: "I know....you are wondering why? Well, I don't know. You may not ever really know either. But you probably pissed off somebody, and I have no idea who or even what you did. Hell, maybe you made a bet that you can't pay. Did you forget to pay somebody money you owed? Did you flip off a gang member? Do you do drugs? Did you wreck someone's car? Who knows kid? Who cares? All I know is somebody wants you nutted, and is willing to pay to have you brought to me and to have it done. And make no mistake, that's just what is going to happen. I guess you can leave it at that."

I could see his mind was racing. Then holding the vacuum tube in my left hand, I picked up his dick with my right, and slid my still oiled fist over his pole. He stared at me, as I fondled his dick, slicking it up with the oil in my fist. As I held his pole and pumped him, I ask him: "Did you piss off a woman? A girlfriend? Did you fuck someone else's wife perhaps?"

His eyes went wide, and there was recognition then. I laughed. Then I said: "Ah...so that's it! Well, I hoped you enjoyed her when you were fucking her. When this is over, you won't be fucking any others."

His eyes got really wide then, and he started thrashing out against his bonds and really struggling. He was screaming into his gag, and I stroked his dick a little faster to get it harder. Then I said "Don't fret so.....the machine's got a hell of a mouth, and I'm sure you'll enjoy your last blow. If I were you, I'd try and enjoy it at any rate. Nothing sucks like a milker."

I slipped the clear polycarbonate sleeve down over his cock then, until the greased rubber ring at the bottom was pressed up against the flesh of his shaved groin. Then, I turned on the machine, and as the air was pumped out of the chamber it was pulled down against his skin, held there by the vacuum, and as he stared at it, and his dick inside, his eyes went wide. The ribbed sleeve inside pulled down against his skin, tight around his cock, and as the air drew out he could see his own cock inside as it became engorged with blood. He grew rock hard, and really big too, and as I watched his big boner jutting up from his groin I knew the machine was giving him the hardest erection of his life.

He stared in disbelief. As the vacuum pressure reached its working level, there was a change in the sound of things. At that point the internal rubber latex sleeve began to work its ribbed surface up and down on the young man's cock, pulling it, sucking it literally like a mechanical mouth inside of the airless chamber. The machine at one time was designed to pull the milk from a cow's teat until its udder was completely empty, and now in a perverse sort of way it was doing the comparable thing to him, sucking his rod as if it was a cow's teat. Of course, his cock was no teat, and yet the machine was sucking it vigorously as if it was, and I knew soon he'd be shooting his load and he would keep doing it too until there was nothing left in his balls to squirt.

The beauty of it was that it would suck until I turned it off, and I had no plans to do that for a while. I had him for several hours, and I always find it interesting to let the machine work a man's rod for most of that time. It never gets tired. It will literally suck a man's dick until it's raw. So, I watched him, all the while grinning from ear to ear, as he jerked against the ropes and fought the feeling, as the machine sucked and sucked and sucked. He grunted, and shook his head side to side. God he was desperate. He sure didn't want to cum! I could see right away it was getting to him, and as I watched his nipples became pointed, and as his balls drew up tight under his pole I knew he was going to ejaculate in spite of his mental efforts to prevent it.

I waited, grinning, and then I said: "Go ahead boy, shoot your wad! Shoot your jism just for me. The sooner you empty those balls the sooner we can get you castrated."

He screamed into his gag, and then, just as he did, he started to cum. As I watched he shot his first load, and as he went over the edge I patted him on his thigh and stared into his eyes. As he ejaculated he grunted, and then the machine changed pitch, and after that I could see his big white load of spunk getting sucked up the tube and deposited into the vacuum jar that is made to catch anything it can. He grunted and grunted and grunted, and bucked his hips, and yet the machine couldn't care less. It just relentlessly worked his pole and sucked the semen right out of his balls. He shot a hell of a wad, grunted it out really, and bucked his hips the entire time as he fucked the machine like it was a woman in heat. The machine worked his dick as he was shooting, and so he grunted and screamed and pumped out his load of semen, powerless to do anything else.

His pole squirted it out, in big ropes of cum, shooting it out and all of it going up the tube. God he had a wad! I wondered when he had cum last? He shot like it had been a while, and his load of cream was thick and copious, the essence of his manhood squirting out with a vengeance. He came for almost a minute, before his balls were finally empty and the machine was sucking nothing up the tube. Still, it kept working his rod, pulling on it even after he had cum. His dick of course wanted to go down then, to take a rest and to recover from his orgasm. But the relentless milker was a mechanical monster, and it didn’t care what his dick wanted to do. It was a machine, and the airless vacuum chamber that encased his rod made sure it stayed rock hard. As long as the vacuum was maintained, he couldn't get rid of his boner even if his life depended on it.

In fact, with the vacuum pulling the blood into his tissue, he couldn't have gone soft no matter what he did. So, even after he had cum the machine kept him hard, and it continued to work his pole. He couldn't believe the feeling at that point of course! He screamed then as the over-sensitive end of his dick continued to be massaged by the mechanical beast, and yet he was powerless to stop it. He started screaming then in a panic, the feeling way too intense and he desperate to stop it. But he couldn't stop it, and so as the milking machine kept milking his cock he jerked and thrashed in his bonds, struggling desperately like a crazed maniac even as the feeling overwhelmed him.

Several minutes went by as he thrashed in the chair in a panic. He threw his head straight back, into the chair, and then slammed it forward and back in a wild thrashing attempt to pull himself free. The ribbed sleeve that was working his dick was driving him crazy, and there was nothing he could do but feel the feeling and live it as the mechanical mouth worked on his spent rod which was being forced to stay rock hard. I could tell he was going crazy from all the stimulation. He lasted about four more minutes, before it became too much for him. Then, suddenly, he screamed all over again, and I laughed as the feeling overwhelmed him.

"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" he grunted into his gag then, and then his hips came up and his dick started to pulsate for a second time. He had never gone soft, and yet he came again, a second load of semen shooting up the tube and following his first wad into the collection jar that was there to catch it. Oh he bucked his hips then!

His second wad wasn't as intense as his first one, or at least the amount of his load was less, even if perhaps the feeling was sharper and perhaps more than he could comprehend. He ejaculated nevertheless, squirting out his second load as I watched him do it, the camera catching his look and the surprise on his face as he stared at his own pulsating dick and watched his white spunk being pulled into the jar.

After that he was just screaming into his gag, and he started babbling then like a crazed maniac. Of course, his dick was even more sensitive now, his twice spent pole still rock hard. Even so the vacuum inside the tube kept it that way, the blood engorging his cock and filling it, his big purple head slick with the remains of his two loads of jism. He bucked and grunted and strained against his restraints. Still, the machine sucked him on, working that sleeve over his super sensitive dick. Up and down and up and down.

He was in misery, the over stimulation of his sexual pole more than any man can tolerate. He had no choice though, and so he lived the feeling, his prick driving him crazy with the intensity of what was being done to it. Oh how he wanted me to turn off the machine! But instead, I went upstairs, and fixed a sandwich, keeping the door open so I could hear him grunt. I toasted the bread, and pulled out the pastrami and nuked it in the microwave for thirty seconds. Then, I opened the refrigerator and took out the tomato and lettuce and the jar of mayo. It was just as I was pouring on the mayonnaise the machine's whine changed pitch again, and from the sounds coming up the stairs it was obvious his thrashing had increased once again. That made me smile. I looked at the mayonnaise and I knew then, as I was spooning it on my sandwich, that he was pumping out his third load of jism.

I wasn’t in any hurry, and I ate my sandwich, while the machine downstairs jacked him off and took his third wad. He was screaming continuously now, the feeling in his dick driving him insane. He would have done anything to make it stop, anything, but there was nothing he could do and so he just sat in that chair, with his legs spread wide, living the feeling as that relentless mechanical machine milked him like a cow.

He babbled for mercy into his gag, but nobody was there to hear it. I had a beer, and took my time, and it wasn't until several minutes had gone by before I decided to venture back to the basement. When I finally went back downstairs and approached him my timing was good. As I walked up to him he started ejaculating for the forth time in a row. He stared at me, his desperate eyes in a panic. I hefted his balls as he grunted it out, his cock twitching inside the tube as it pumped out a watery load of spunk. As I watched his fourth load it was just oozing out of his dick, and it was obvious that he had almost been milked dry. It didn't have the pressure of his early wads behind it, and I could see from the consistency of his jism going up the tube and the small amount of it that he was probably pumping out his last load as a man.

I was smiling then, grinning really, because it was getting close to being over and the best part was soon to come. Yeah, without doubt, he would probably ejaculate dry the next time he came. And once that happened, I'd take his balls.

I looked at the jar and there was quite a bit of spunk in it, a small puddle of it really. As I looked at the boy's load of cream I remarked "Nice wad there guy....you should be proud of it. It's a hell of a load and it's obvious you are a hell of a man. At least for now you are."

After that nothing happened for quite a while. His dick was getting red inside the tube, and it was obvious it was feeling less than ideal. Still, he was rock hard, the vacuum keeping his dick up, while the mechanical sleeve was still working his pole, running the little ribbed sleeve up and down over his shaft. He was staring at it, at the mechanical mouth that was sucking him dry, and the look on his face was something between fear and misery. It was obvious he was way over stimulated, and the intensity of the feeling was driving him beyond insanity, leaving him a screaming thrashing man in total panic. His eyes were so damn wide, and he bucked his hips and shook the chair, still fighting the feeling that was taking his soul. This went on for a long time, but eventually I could tell the feeling was building up again. For a moment I wasn’t sure it was going to happen at first, but finally I saw the telltale signs, the pointed nipples and the end of his dick flaring out wide. I knew then he was getting close again, and this time I wanted to be ready. I picked up my tray of instruments, and brought it back, and laid it on his belly in front of the airless sleeve that was working his dick and jacking him off. I wanted him to see them, so he would know this was for real.

As he looked at them I said "When you can't cum anymore, I'm going to nut you."

He stared at me, and the tools I would use to unman him, while I stared at his cock, and the sleeve working it. I reached down then, between his legs, and under his balls, and there, feeling the hairs around his rectum I toyed with his hole. His legs were spread out, exposing everything to my touch, and as I played with his hole and watched the machine milking his dick it made me grin. From my experience I knew he was almost done now. I slipped my middle finger into his hole, deep, and curved it around until I could feel his prostate. He stared at me doing that, and just as I felt his little acorn there and started to massage it he started to scream. Just then, as he was screaming into his gag I felt the rhythmic contractions from his hole, as he started to ejaculate for the fifth time.

He grunted as he came, and the end of his dick seemed to pulsate within the tube as he screamed into his gag. I was staring at the tip of his dick, and the tube, waiting for any sign of spunk from his balls. There wasn't any doubt he was having another orgasm, as the muscles in his ass gripped and released around my finger the way they do when a man shoots his wad. But this time there wasn't a wad to shoot, and so he just ejaculated dry, his dick pumping but nothing coming up the shaft. A small single drop of clear fluid appeared on the end of his rod, but nothing else. He was done. I let the machine suck him just the same, sucking him as he grunted and came, his empty balls totally spent. As I played with his prostate and felt his ejaculation muscles trying desperately to pump out another load, I laughed. He was dry, and simply put he didn't have any more sperm to shoot. He had literally given his all. That's when I said this to him:

That's it boy.....one last time. Try and pump it out.....empty those balls and live the feeling of being a man! This is it, your last wad! There you go.....try and fill that jar if you can."

Finally, in spite of the machine's efforts to stimulate him, the contractions slowly stopped and his dry orgasm ended. It was time.

I went to the sink and scrubbed my hands, and then I pulled on the latex gloves. When I came back to him I looked like a surgeon, even if I am not. I had the mask on too, to prevent infection and with the gloves I at least looked like one. I picked up my scalpel and laid it up under his scrotum. He screamed then, his eyes wide with the disbelief of what was about to happen to him. I didn't make him wait for the knife. Instead, I made the cut then, starting right in the middle of his scrotum and pulling the blade right down between his nuts, opening his bag like a zipper. Next, I sliced the membrane underneath with my knife, exposing his two big balls then, filling his sack and now exposed to the air for the first time in his life. He screamed and thrashed against his bonds while I was doing that. I left the milker going, because it kept his cock up and out of my way, and I wanted his scrotum easily reachable while I extracted his nuts. God he screamed! He sure didn’t like being castrated!

I laughed at his struggles. Why do they all fight so? I would think that knowing they were tied and were helpless to stop what I was going to do, that they would just resign themselves to it and lay still while I nutted them. Yeah, you would think that after being milked dry they wouldn't even care about their nuts for a while, but they do, and he wasn’t any exception. He sure didn't want to lose his balls!

I could care less if he wanted it done or not. He wasn't paying me and the men that were wanted him nutted. So, I was nutting him. It was as simple as that. With the membrane out of the way I worked my fingers into his sac, and hooked his left nut and brought it up and out through the slit in his skin. I then clamped the cord, and tied a suture around it, after which I took his ball with a slice of the scalpel. He grunted then, and bucked his hips to the extent the restraints would let him. I dropped his excised nut on the tray, and when he saw me do that he started going ballistic at that point, just thrashing wildly, the feeling of losing his left ball almost more than he could handle.

Then I looked up at him, and said "Just one more guy. One more and you'll be a eunuch."

His eyes went wider and he shook his head side to side. Still, he watched me. I reached into his scrotum again and fished out his remaining nut. It came out easer, because there was more room in his bag now, and so I maneuvered it to the slit and just pushed it out. I fondled his ball, feeling it, the fat firm tissue all that remained of his manhood. It wasn’t much. It was just a rubbery orb, a little gland that seemed pretty insignificant really. It was a big ball though, by any measure, and in some ways was close to the size of a small hen's egg. It was bigger than a dogs, but of course nothing compare to that of a bull or a stallion. I felt his ball, and he watched me holding it. It was still hooked to him, still powering his body, driving him to fuck women, to seek out their pussies and to make his cock stiff and eager. I was holding all that in my hand and I liked the sense of power. Well, it was time, and that part of his life was about to end.

I clamped the cord then and tied his last ball off, to prevent any bleeding, and then with a single movement of the blade it too was mine. He shuddered as I took it, and the machine changed pitch and a little dab of semen went up the tube as he ejaculated one last time. That surprised me, and where it came from I have no idea. His final load was only a few squirts, but still I watched it go up the tube and into the collection jar with the others. As he was doing that he stared, eyes wide, and watched me castrate him, all the while his hole winked at me as the muscles in his ass twitched in rhythmic contractions.

It was his last orgasm, and it came as he watched and felt me as I cut off his last ball ended his manhood. Then, as his orgasm subsided, I lifted up his severed nut and held it in my fingers. I held it in front of his face so he could get a good look at it and know it was done, and then I dropped it on my tray, next to the other one. In a few moments I would put them in a jar, for the men that would soon be returning to get them. They wanted the video tape, and his balls, and when they had them I would get paid.

After I castrated him I stitched up his empty bag, and I did it neatly and professionally. When he got to the hospital they wouldn't have to do anything. Of course, that wouldn’t help him much either, as medically speaking there wasn't much they could do.

I turned off the machine, and removed the polycarbonate vacuum tube, pulling it off his spent dick with a sucking sound. As it came free his dick just fell over, and as the blood empted from his cock it shriveled up like a wet, useless noodle. It was almost as if I had killed his dick, and in a way, by taking his balls, I had. For now it was spent, very spent, and there wasn't any sperm left in his body. It was bright red where it had been jacked off continuously since I had started the milker, and it would be very sore tomorrow. Of course, his nutless sac would be sore too. But it had gone well, and he had been completely neutered, and his prostate was empty and his nuts were mine.

Without any doubt he was no longer a man, and for him, the things he had once wanted so bad would almost overnight become far less important to him. As for the moment, he stared at me, all of the fight gone from him. He wasn't struggling anymore, perhaps because there was nothing left to struggle for. Instead, he lay there spent and exhausted, with his noodle of a dick laying flat on his belly, resting on his hairless groin above his empty sack. I felt his bag, and it was flat and hollow, a testament to what had been done to him. I winked at him. It was a job done well.

About an hour later they returned for him, and that's when I give the new eunuch a shot, which put him out like a light. Once he was unconscious, the goons came into the room and unstrapped him. They checked his empty scrotum, and satisfied, then they dressed him before they took him away. Two of them carried him out to the van while I handed the jar with his balls in it and the video tape to one of the others. I had poured out the cream from the machine's collection vial and so now the young man's balls were sitting in the puddle of their own load of spunk which I had milked out of him. They looked big in the curve of the glass, and yet in another way they seemed totally unimportant. There in the jar, they just didn't look like much, and their load of semen, which was impressive, still only covered the bottom of the jar even so.

Of course, for the young man who had carried them in his bag, at one time they were the most important jewels in his life and the cream that had come from them was the essence of his manhood. As I gave the jar to the man whose name I did not know, he remarked to me: "You do a good job. You'll have another one to do on Saturday." Then, he handed me the envelope, and after that they were gone. Opening it I could see it was stuffed with fifties, and there was an extra hundred on the top, a tip for a job well done. I couldn't help but smile.

[Authors note: © Copyright January, 2005. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. If you liked the story, I'd appreciate a note telling me so. Thanks. -Nathan]