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The surgeon did a good job. The slits in each side of my scrotum were about an inch and a half long and there were five stitches in each. One would think the cuts were too long, but a testicle the size of a hens egg was drawn out of the scrotal sac and the connecting cords cut and cauterized. An adequate cut facilitated my castration, avoided torn tissue and ensured optimal healing. After the operation there was some swelling and slight pain but nothing significant. The stitches closed the slits tightly and I could see that hardly, if any, scar would remain. I had been advised to hold a cold pack on the area if it did swell, but only did so in the expectation that it would reduce the minor swelling and speed the healing process. The cold pack shrank the scrotal sack and penis. The cuts also shrank proportionately drawing the stitches closer together and diminishing the area in focus. There was a slight ache in my penis and I did notice, over a few days, that with each application of the cold pack, my penis and scrotal sac did not quite regain their former size. I was tempted to massage my nipples and fondle my cock to see whether I could still gain an erection, but thought that that massive swelling and infusion of blood may have jeopardized the healing process. I had, however, started to rub an ointment into my nipples. I had concocted it from Wild Mexican Yam; dried, powdered and mixed into a base of castor oil. The yam had been introduced and now grows wild. I reasoned that if I was going to develop female characteristics, I might as well promote those which I more preferred such as large nipples. I was walking and getting about normally after a few days. My empty scrotum was shrinking fast and the wound felt as though it had already healed five days after the operation. The nylon stitches and hair growing back on the scrotum made the area itch. I thought of taking the stitches out myself but hesitated for another day. Then, when the irritation started to cause inflammation, I took one stitch out and examined around that area. Then I took the rest out and there was instant relief. By the time I visited the surgeon there was hardly any scar, just a fine, short, bluish red line on either side of a diminished and flattened scrotal sac. He took a perfunctory glance and felt the sac. I said, Its shrunk. Yes, that is to be expected - the penis also. Any changes to the breasts or nipples Yes, my nipples have grown a bit, I think. I ventured, without mentioning the yam ointment. He said that there was no point in taking any more tests for the cancer, until my body had stabilized. I was to continue taking tablets. Some till the end of the course and continue with the others. Then, in about three months time, visit a General Practitioner who would arrange the further tests. I told him that I intended leaving the City and had prepared to go fruit picking on the Granite Belt, about 300 kilometers away. He wished me luck. Whilst walking home, I mulled it all over and felt happy with things. My castration was a success. Theoretically, the cancer was on the wane and I expected favorable results from the tests. So far, so good. A feeling of euphoria must have triggered something in my subconscious as things were starting to stir in my groin mainly my cock. I was getting an erection. I arrived home and slowly took my clothes off and lay on the bed. My cock was almost hard and seemed to be begging me to blow it off. Precum had been oozing out of the urethra. A few jerks and my cock was rock hard and seemed to be bursting with blood. I hesitated and then felt along the shaft, around the purple, bulging, head and down to where my balls had been. I carefully felt around the base of my cock and stroked my shriveled scrotum. If anything, it was more sensitive than before I was castrated. I stroked my nipples and they became erect, like twin volcanoes. Gradually, I worked on my cock and cried in ecstasy as I brought myself to a huge ejaculation . As I relaxed, I saw the copious amounts of sperm on my belly. It looked the same as it ever was. Infertile, but that could be a gain. I had a quick shower and felt good. All I had lost was my balls. I considered going to one of the few venues for homosexual men. I had been a regular visitor. It was cheap, not fancy, but clean and functional. One could meet like - minded men and usually leave feeling more than satisfied. However, I thought that I could be unlucky enough to strike one of the few rough guys and since I was still not fully healed I did not want to risk that. Furthermore, I had been there over a period of years and never met an eunuch, as I now was. What would the reaction be? There were guys with implants one even with what seemed like stainless steel balls. They were so hard and heavy and had distended his scrotum so that it was like a pendulum. I was listening for clinking noises. There were so many variations but nobody like me. Absolutely no balls - like Goeballs, Hitlers henchman - and he was not out of place; according to the song. |