Fucking Tables of the Past, The ... Letter 6

I was at the museum today, talking with my friend, the curator, and of course somehow the conversation turned to the table. After their employee castrated himself on it, they had to disable the mechanism to make sure it couldn’t happen again. Anyway, I was over there and chatting and after the conversation turned to the table, I started asking about the films in the library. Well, guess what? I got to watch one of them! Oh Wow guy....it was something to see! I’ll tell you about it, and if you get down next year, perhaps I can get you in to see it too!

The one I saw was marked “Trial Evidence; Case #YT70RHUXOI. It was from a trial in Central America, that took place in the early 70’s as best I can figure. From what I could gather, there was a police official, who sort of took the law into his own hands. He used one of the Fucking Tables to send messages to the crime bosses and kingpins of his jurisdiction. He did a lot of good, but eventually the central authorities got wind of it, and so he was arrested for his misuse of power. Most of the men he castrated lost their balls in the late sixties and by the time his trial occurred it was all pretty much over with anyway. Still, he did end up getting convicted for his warped since of justice. It’s funny, but I guess he squashed the crime problem, so needless to say, a lot of the locals and more than a few of his lieutenants thought he was being railroaded. Anyway, on the package that the museum has there is a partial transcript from the trial as well as the video tape, which was used in the trial to help make the conviction. It’s graphic, let me tell you!

I’ll paste in the trial transcript, and then I’ll tell you about the video!

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Prosecutor: “Please, for the court, state your name, your position at the time, and what you know about the table being used at the station.”

Lt: “Yes...well, my name is Thomas Pintera, and I was a police lieutenant at the station where the Captain worked. I was the gopher, plain and simple. I did what they told me to do, and at the time I didn’t see any wrong in it. The Captain cleaned up the city, and I think you are wrong to go after him.”

Prosecutor: “You need to stick to the questions lieutenant. Where was this...this table? Did the Captain use it at the police station?”

Lt: “No....no, it wasn’t at the stationhouse. They had the table in a different building, at the old station, and had set it up in what used to be the interrogation room. I wasn’t involved much, and while I helped on a few occasions, I wasn’t one of the Captain’s closest friends, so I didn’t have a lot to do with it. But I know it was there, and I also know that it was used a lot, as it was the inside joke at the stationhouse. I think the Captain liked to use it, to send messages to the crime bosses, and it did have an impact.”

Prosecutor: “Ah, Lt Pintera, I see. Are you aware that the station Captain has stated he had no direct knowledge of this table when it was being used? In fact, he claims you and a few of the other station personnel acted on your own and he never sanctioned its use. In fact, he says he wasn’t aware of it at all until only a few months ago. So, are you calling him a liar?”

Lt: “Well, uh...that’s not true. I only did what I was told. If that is what the Captain said....hell, he said that? Listen, I’m not calling anybody anything. But I know what I saw, and I know what the orders were. And the Captain...he had to know about the table. He did a lot of good with it, and I don’t know why he would say that. I think you guys are wrong to go after him. He cleaned this city up!”

Prosecutor: “Please stick to the question. Did the Captain know of the table or not?”

Lt: “Well, I...I uh would have to say he knew of it. I mean, I think he liked it even, and I heard him laughing about some of the men that were castrated on it, so I know he knew about it, and I know he knew it was being used. Now I didn’t see him ever watch it being done, but I know the tapes we made went to him, because I delivered one of them myself. And he kept the jar, so he had to know something.”

Prosecutor: “The jar? Can you elaborate please?”

Lt: “Well, there was a jar, a four liter size jar, and in it we placed the severed scrotums from the men that were castrated. I only saw it a few times, but still I can never forget the big ball sacs that were in that jar. In the curved glass they all looked huge, and I know the Captain liked to look at it.”

Prosecutor: “Where was this jar kept?”

Lt: “The Captain kept it in his office.”

Prosecutor: “How many scrotums were in it....do you know?”

Lt: “It was full of balls....lots of them. I don’t know the number, but it was almost full I can tell you that.”

Prosecutor: “You said there were tapes. Are you saying the castrations were videotaped?”

Lt: “Yes....yes...always. The tapes were dropped off as a warning to others. It worked too. They always made a tape of the castrations. Always.”

Prosecutor: “Like the tape I have in my hand, exhibit “A” ?

Lt: “Yes. It has the station mark and I believe that is the Pedro tape.”

Prosecutor: “The Pedro tape? What was the purpose of making...of making a Pedro tape?”

Lt: “Well, Pedro, as we called him, was a big time pimp, up on the east side, who ran about a dozen whore houses. He had a huge operation, with lots of women, and I guess he liked to fuck them all even as he kept them working. At his peak, he had more than one hundred women working for his operation, and they were high class whores, big bucks, with lots of money changing hands and lots of clients seeking his services. We tried to shut him down three times, but he would laugh his way out of the courtroom each time.”

“Finally, the Captain had had enough, and so he had us send Pedro a warning and told him to shut down and get out of town or else. He wasn’t the only operation in town, but he was the biggest, and the Captain figured if they could shut him down then the other joints would follow. Well, Pedro refused to leave, so he got to spend a few hours on the table. After his balls got cut off then we sent out copies of the tape to the others. Pedro was gone in days and the entire place was cleaned out in less than two months. It worked. It did I tell you. The Captain is a good man and he did a lot of good things.”

Prosecutor: “How was it done? How did Pedro end up a eunuch?”

Lt: “Well, I never went on any of the raids. But I do know they would go out at night and pickup the guy. It was usually done at night, and I know they didn’t wear any uniforms of anything. From what I heard around the stationhouse they grabbed Pedro at two in the morning, right before he fucked one of his whores. He was just about to do her, when they busted in. They grabbed him, and the girl was screaming and then they just pulled him out of the room in handcuffs all the time the naked whore was screaming. Then they stuffed him in the trunk of a vehicle, and then took him straight to the old station house where the table was waiting.”

“It was done quickly. They dragged him in the room, stripped him, and strapped him down to the table. The camera was set up at the end of the table, on a tripod, so it was looking right down into his face, capturing his expression, and his voice, as he was castrated. Nobody ever said anything; they didn’t even turn on the camera until they walked out of the room so the camera only recorded the man and his unmanning and not who did it to him. It took less than half an hour to take his balls. There’s nothing on the tape but the man, tied to the table, struggling and cussing as his balls are being pinched off by the wire.”

Prosecutor: “For the court, can you briefly describe the table at the station, and how it worked?”

Lt: “Well, it was a large, oak table, with a hole in it that was made to accommodate the man’s erect penis. The hole was lined with fur, and I think it was made from beaver fur. I know it was very soft, and we used to call it the “pussy”. (laughs) The table itself had some leather restrains on it, to hold the man, and underneath was the drive gear mechanism that slowly turned the takeup wheel. We would loop a piece of stainless steel wire around the top of the man’s scrotum, give it a couple of twists by hand to hold it in position, and then push the two ends of the wire down through a little guide hole that was below the tables “pussy.” There, the ends of the wire were secured to the “twist wheel” as its called, which was a geared wheel which turned in a clockwise direction. As the wheel rotated it twisted the wire, which closed the loop around the man’s scrotum.”

“It didn’t work very fast, but the goal wasn’t to do things fast. The entire machine was designed so the man strapped to it could slowly experience his castration. The way the twist wheel turned, the wire loop that encircled the man’s balls slowly decreased in size, until finally the man’s scrotum, with his testicles inside, was just pinched right off of him.”

Prosecutor: “Oh.........uh, was it the Captain that set it up so there were no witnesses?”

Lt: “Oh, I don’t know if the Captain had anything to do with it directly. I know he knew of it, but, I mean, I can’t say he directed anything. At least not to me he didn’t. So, to imply that is just not something I can say. He knew about it, that much I know. But I don’t know if he ever was there when it was used. As for witnesses, there were probably plenty of them, but I don’t know who they are. You see, the interrogation room is a mirrored room, with one-way mirrors on the two ends of the room. I don’t know who watched. I wasn’t invited. Nobody that saw ever talked, so I don’t know. But I’m sure somebody was watching everything. The room had the one-way mirrors, and the mirrors served two purposes.”

Prosecutor: “Two purposes? What....what were they?”

Lt: “Well, of course, the mirrors allowed any witnesses to watch the guy on the table without him seeing them. The other purpose, was that they allowed the man on the table to see himself from another angle. If he looked past the camera, he could see his own ass reflected in the mirrors, so if he wanted to he could actually watch as the wire grew tighter around his scrotum. The mirrors allowed him to watch his balls get taken from him, which from the desperation of the victims displayed on the tapes, was quite effective.”

Prosecutor: “I see. So, there was no one else in the room during the castration sequence?”

Lt: “No, not as far as the man on the table could see. I think the Captain wanted it that way. He didn’t want the man to have anyone to beg too. Instead, he just wanted him to feel the desperation, to realize that the machine, the uncaring machine, was going to castrate him and that was that. He liked knowing the man would have no hope, no one to call out to, no way to make a deal or buy his way out of it. No, all he could do was just feel and watch and struggle as the unfeeling machine slowly tightened the wire noose around his scrotum and then took his balls from him.”

Prosecutor: “So, ah, you can’t prove your assertion that the Captain knew of the table, and that you didn’t just act on your own?”

Lt: “Uh...uh, well, I know the Captain did tell me once to get the wire replaced. I remember that, because I had to go purchase it and he signed the purchase order. Yeah, I guess, I guess that’s important, because he did have me do that.”

Prosecutor: “Can you elaborate on that please?”

Lt: “Yes. The specs on the table called for number eight wire. Stainless steel. The Captain had me change it to number 10 wire, which is a lot thicker and a lot stiffer. The table still twisted just the same, tightened that noose around the scrotum just the same. But the heavier gauged wire pressed itself through the balls, where the number eight wire used to cut its way. It took about the same time, but the thicker wire seemed to crush the skin and blood vessels, and so when the guy’s balls came off there usually wasn’t much blood. It probably hurt a hell of a lot more, I would guess, because the wire was pretty thick and the machine just pulled it slowly through, closing the noose until it went all the way through the guy’s trapped scrotum. It was a loop, just growing ever smaller, until finally the balls came to a single point that just finally got so small the balls fell free, pinched off at the top and cinched closed by the loop of wire that had finally just closed itself altogether.”

Prosecutor: “I see. And you have the purchase order?”

Lt: “Yes...I keep copies of everything.”

Prosecutor: “Well, we will want that. Can you tell me, was this a painful process? I mean, the Captain never had you take any measures to relieve the pain for the victim?”

Lt: “Oh yeah, it was painful. It hurt like hell. You can tell that in the tapes, just from the screams from the guys as their balls were being pinched off. But the pain was a part of it, because afterwards we sent the tapes out to the city, where the other crime syndicates were operating, and the tape and the warning always got their attention. The Captain cleaned up the city, and it was something they understood. Threatened with being castrated, more than a few left town.”

Prosecutor: “So, this ‘Pedro’ tape, it shows the castration of a criminal then? Who made that assessment?....I mean, was there a trial or did the Captain just decide who deserved to lose his balls?”

Lt: (hesitating) “Well, uh....there wasn’t a trial really. But everyone knew he was guilty. He ran the whore houses, and he had his girls. He really liked his women, and he liked to use them. He had a slew working for him, and he used to take a different one to bed every night. That was common knowledge, and he bragged about his abilities as a man, and about the number of women he had fucked. He was proud of his operation, and proud of his balls. I guess that’s why he screamed so loud when we took them......”

Prosecutor: “I see. After the Captain had him castrated, can you tell me what happened to Pedro?”

Lt: “I was told they took him back to his place...in fact, dumped him right back into the same bed they had taken him from. He was only gone about three hours, and in fact, the whore was still in the bed, too scared to leave. Yeah, they just dumped him right back into his bed, with the woman, minus his balls of course.”

Prosecutor: “What happened then?”

Lt: “Hell if I know. I doubt he fucked her though.” (laughter in the room)

Prosecutor: “OK...OK....that’s not what I mean. What happened with respect to the table and the Captain? Is there anything else you can tell us?”

Lt: “Well...not much else to tell. I do remember that they put his balls in the jar, and they were just a huge set compared to the others. I remember them resting on top of the pile, just bulging, dead in the sac, stuffed in that scrotum and it was something to see. It really held your attention, that big fat set of castrated balls, resting in that jar, lifeless. They were the essence of that man, the seat of everything he had lived for. And now, they were in that jar, worthless, just something to look at and I’ll never forget them.”

Prosecutor: “I see. Well, thank you lieutenant. Thank you very much.....”

Mikal, the transcript ends there, and the library doesn’t have anything else from the trial. There is some other information, that I was able to cross reference, but all that is important is that the Captain was convicted and he and the lieutenant ended up doing sometime. I won’t bore you with the other articles, but I will tell you about the tape. I watched it and my knees were shaking!

When the tape begins, you are looking right into the face of this man, Pedro. His arms are stretched out to either side of the camera, strapped down to the table, so he can’t really move much. He’s looking off to the side of the camera, out of its range of view, apparently at some people that are still in the room. You get a brief glimpse of one of them, in the reflected mirror, and he’s wearing a mask and its impossible to identify him. Pedro is yelling at them to untie him, to get him off of this thing he has been strapped into. He’s asking them who they are, and what they think they are doing. No one is answering him, and no one else says a single word. Then you hear the door slam, and after that he’s just laying there, alone, all strapped to that table. You can hear him breathing, and you can hear the gently purring of the table’s motor humming in the background as it slowly spins the ‘twist’ wheel.

The guy has dark hair, and deep, brown eyes. He is probably in his late thirties, but I’m guessing. He’s a powerful man with a strong body. He has a mustache, and his back muscles seem to ripple. He is naked, not a stitch on, and because the camera is looking at him, you can see the mirrored wall behind him. His big legs have been pulled wide apart, and are hooked at the ankles into two leather straps that are keeping his legs spread. There are two more straps that come up between his legs and secure his thighs, so that he can move his ass up and down but he can’t pull it up so far as to get his cock out of the hole.

In the mirror you can see his big ass, and he has some hair on it that runs up and under him and disappears into his groin. Between his legs is his scrotum, and it’s the biggest scrotum I’ve ever seen in my life on any man. It’s simply huge. The guy’s sac of balls is round, and about the size of a softball. I am not exaggerating!

Around the big sac is the wire, and you can see it is laying right at the top of his scrotum, and the ends apparently have already been twisted together a few times and seem to disappear down between his legs and into the table top through the small little guide hole. He is cussing, and you can see his ass as he moves it up and down, pulling against the restraints while at the same time his cock slides in and out of the fur. When he pulls up, away from the table, you can see the thick little wire running down and under him. It’s hard to see, but if you look directly at the wire you can see that it is slowly turning, twisting tighter and tighter as the motor hums. His cock is only partially visible, as it disappears into the table’s hole, the beaver fur puffed up and out of it like it was a woman’s pussy. Still, he gasped as he moves, and keeps saying “What...what the fuck is this? HEY....get me out of here.....!”

I couldn’t see his entire prick, as most of it is buried into the table’s pussy. But the base of it is thick, and it’s obvious he is rock hard. It’s jutting under him, into the table, and it’s also obvious that it is eager even if he is not.

He is really straining, and he’s mad as hell. I don’t think he has any idea what is happening. You can hear the little motor purring along, twisting the wire, and as it goes around and around he is yelling and screaming for someone to come in and let him go. It goes on for about five minutes, and that’s when he figures it out, that the wire loop around his nuts is getting smaller. You can see it pressing into his sac, like a line of metal string, and as it starts to do that his individual testicles start to appear under the skin. You can see them, like two oblong golf balls, or ripe plums, stuffed in his sac and made visible by the tightening of the wire.

It’s like a light bulb when Pedro figures out something is happening to his scrotum. Pedro yells out then, in surprise, as he whips his head around to see what it is. You see him look over his shoulder to see what he is feeling on his balls.. He is looking at his balls in the mirror....and that’s when he notices the wire that is around them like a noose. When he sees that, and feels it on his balls, that’s when he goes crazy: “WHAT THE FUCK! OH GOD...OK...OK..GET IT OFF!!!!! HEY.....GET IT OFF. TAKE IT OFF! NOW! NOW I SAID!!!!! OK.......lets TALK! LETS TALK! FUCK! What THE FUCK IS IT?”

Of course, there is no answer. Apparently, there is no one around to hear him. He looks into the camera, as if he thinks someone can see him if he does, and he starts begging: “OK...I give...I GIVE DAMNIT! What..OH GOD....it’s on my balls! The thing...that wire is on my balls. Please....come on whoever you are! TAKE IT OFF! NOW! I SAID NOW DAMN YOU! I GIVE!!!!!!!”

Of course, still nothing from anyone, and he starts pulling hard, jerking on the restraints. His ass bobs up and down, faster now, more desperate, and as he does so in the mirrored image you can see his cock sliding in and out of the hole in the table. The view from between his legs is restrictive, just because of the size of his scrotum, but from under him whenever his ass rises up you can see his shaft and he is eager and hard, stiff as a piece of steel, and he is slamming his rod in and out of the hole as he struggles like a crazed maniac.

This goes on for several minutes. “OH GOD” he yells. The wire is really growing smaller then, and you can see it as a silvery line pressing down into his huge sac. The two orbs that define his testicles are round and pronounced, as the skin of his scrotum grows tight and pulls upward as the top of his sac continues to close. He is really straining then, and his hairy thighs jerk up and down, and you can see he is straining to pull them together. He jerks his head up, over his shoulder again, staring back at the mirror and his balls and the twisting wire. He is screaming then...and then he yells “FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK! OH GOD...NO! NOOOO! GET IT OFF...don’t.....please don’t do this......PLEASE FOR GOD’S SAKE---NOT MY BALLS! PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY BALLS!”

His head spins around, right into the camera, and his eyes are wide now, open with fear and desperation, and he stares at the camera and his lip quivers as he begs. “Please....what do you want? I’ll do it....just name it.....I”LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT---I SWEAR! Please....STOP it. OH GOD...it’s HURTING ME! DON’T.....PLEASE DON’T CASTRATE ME!!!!!”

The purring of the motor continues, around and around, the wire growing ever smaller even as he jerks in his desperation. His mouth opens, and for a moment you think he is going to scream. Instead, he grunts out “ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” and his head looks up, as he arches his back and his body shudders. He yells out “God.......I’m CUMMING” and as that happens, from the image in the mirror you can see he is spraying out his semen, shooting it out under the table. It sprays out in droplets, raining down onto the floor beneath the table, the big man shooting out his wad even as the machine is continuing his castration. He grunts, gasped, his chest heaving as he ejaculates, his wad racking his body and his big balls emptying themselves even as they struggle for survival.

The table shakes from his convulsions. His entire body seems to spasm, and he jerks his thighs as to close them. Still, his ass rises up and down, pushing his spewing cock in and out of the fur-lined hole, fucking it, literally, fucking the Fucking Table as it takes his balls.

The wire tightens, and the loop grows smaller.

“NOT MY BALLS!” he yells. He is freaking now, the band around his nuts so tight that in the mirror you can only see where it was. The steel wire itself is inside of his sac, down into it, pressing through it as the motor turns the twist wheel. He grunts, bucks his hips again, and his spent cock, still thick and coated with his slime, rises up and down above his bulging sac.

He looks around the room in desperation, feeling it now more than seeing it, and then, he looks, stares even, back at the camera and into the lens. His eyes are open, wide open, and there are tears in the corner and he bites his lip. His hips are moving in a blur, up and down, as he jerks the restraints and fights for his freedom. When his naked ass rises up, you can catch a glimpse of his cock, and there is a line of white foam there, where it disappears into the table, his spent semen just worked to a froth from the desperation of his struggles.

“OH GOD IT HURTS. OH FUCK....OH FUCK......NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” he screams. Don’t CASTRATTTTTTTTTTTTTE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!.”

In the mirror his sac has changed color, and it goes beet read and then a few minutes later, starts to darken some. He jerks, harder, straining his thighs, and his ass bounces up and down as he continues to struggle. The wire is inside, growing tighter, closing the last bit of flesh off that still defines him as a man. His balls are being taken, and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

He starts babbling then...in a panic, and then, all of a sudden he is just screaming. The pain seems to take him then, as he feels the thick wire as it bites into his flesh. He screams, desperate, primal even, a scream that goes beyond anything I’ve ever heard from a man. It’s intense, wild, and his eyes are flared open in a panic. The wire continues to press its way through his balls, ripping its way through his cords and his vessels and his nerves, squeezing its way through his sac and taking his manhood one tiny bit at a time.

He feels all of it. Finally, after several more minutes, as he stares into the lens and his mouth opens, agape, the motor changes pitch and his balls drop free. He grunts at his moment of castration, the moment he is unmanned, and then he stares with open eyes and a mouth that is wide, the look of surprise and horror painted on his face. Between his legs his dying balls quiver in their isolated sac, resting on the table beneath his legs, pulsating, as if they still have a life of their own. His cock is easier to see then, without his balls blocking the view where they were attached to him before. You can see it is wet with his white slime and there is a froth even from his semen that surrounds the hole on the table. He slams his ball-less hips up and down, sliding his cock within the froth left from his fucking, and he then arches his back and looks at the ceiling.

Some more semen appears to splatter underneath the table, and it appears he is squirting out another load even though he has no balls. It almost looks funny, his ball-less cock squirting out his last load, a final defiant squirt of jism from a sac-less eunuch. His hips jerk up and down, up and down, slamming his cock in and out of the fur hole as he struggles. The view looks almost comical, his nuts laying in a bulging sac, unattached, unmoving on the table while his castrated ass moves up and down without them.

This goes on for several minutes, as he continues to fight and struggle as if he still had a chance. Slowly, he just seems to give up, and the fight leaves him like the wind leaves the sail, and after that he collapses down, onto the table, and lies with open eyes staring at the camera. He doesn’t move, and just stays there, an emptiness perhaps overwhelming him. It is in that state that the tape runs out and ends, the screen turning black and the haunted image of the man, castrated and now a sexless eunuch, still strapped to the table contemplating his fate and his nut-less future.

Later....

Nathan

[Authors note: © Copyright October, 2002. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author.