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My name is Will and I live in the south of England. Ever since puberty I have fantasised about being castrated. A few years ago I bought myself a pc and went online, and very soon found chat-rooms that catered for guys with castration fantasies. (I also spent a lot of time in rubber chat-rooms meeting guys who share my other interest!) Thanks to one of these chat-rooms I found a guy living in the north of England, Mike, who was willing to castrate me. He said he was a retired vet and knew how to use a Burdizzo castrator. We chatted a lot and eventually exchanged phone numbers. After a few phone calls we got to trust each other to the point where we agreed to meet at a hotel in Birmingham.
As planned, I booked myself a hotel room for a Friday night stay, and drove up to Birmingham straight after work on the Friday afternoon. I phoned Mike and confirmed the hotel address and my room number, and he said I could expect to see him at about 9am next day. That evening I made sure my scrotum was free of hair, as Mike had instructed. I got a bottle of Nair lotion and plastered it over my scrotum, waited for ten minutes, then showered it off. It wasnt too big a job as I like to keep my body hairless and I had only recently had an all-over depilation session. Mike had explained the reason for removing scrotal hair; the Burdizzo clamp can sometimes cut the skin, and if hair gets into the cut it seriously impedes healing. I didnt sleep too well that night; I was really excited and a bit apprehensive about my castration the following morning. On the Saturday I woke early and went down to breakfast. I was back in my room and reading a newspaper by 8.15, and at exactly 9am I heard a discreet tap on the door. Mike looked like he was in his late fifties, medium height and build, good physique and silver hair. He had the calm reassuring air of an experienced doctor as he walked into the room and carefully placed on a chair the long narrow bag that he had brought with him. We had chatted so much online, and more recently by phone, that there didnt seem a lot to discuss, so I started to make inane and nervous small-talk about the weather and the difficulty in finding somewhere to park. Mike asked if I had removed my scrotal hair as he had requested, and said he would like to examine me. I peeled off my jeans and underpants, and stood in front of him just wearing socks and a tee-shirt. Mike examined my nuts, weighing them gently in his cupped hand, and suggested I have a soak in a hot bath for ten or fifteen minutes so that my nuts would hang lower and give him more room to work with the Burdizzo clamp. Whilst I soaked in the bath Mike was busy getting the bedroom prepared, then he returned to the bathroom and we talked through the procedure that was about to take place. After this I got out of the bath and thoroughly towelled myself dry. I was feeling very horny and my heart was beating so fast I was shaking. I walked through to the bedroom and saw that Mike had spread a plastic sheet over the bed. He had earlier explained that there might be a little bleeding, and he didnt want to mess-up the bed. He had placed a travel-clock on the bed, a digital camera, and also some leather wrist-cuffs and ankle-cuffs. I added to these a rubber gag of my own. I slipped into my rubber chaps, and my hands were shaking so much that Mike had to help me close the zips. He gently but firmly asked me to relax and told me to breathe in and out slowly and deeply, and to continue breathing this way until he had finished castrating me. I soon got myself under control, and stood still whilst Mike strapped the leather cuffs on my wrists. Are you ready, Boy? said Mike in a calm authoritative voice. This was the point of no return that we had previously discussed and agreed on. Yes, Sir I said, and turned my back towards him so that he could lock the wrist cuffs together. I heard a metallic click, and my hands were now securely fastened behind me. I sat on the bed then swung my legs over so that I was lying on the plastic sheet. Mike strapped the leather ankle cuffs onto me, then went to his bag and withdrew a long steel rod that had a fastener at either end. He spread my legs wide apart and attached the steel rod to the ankle cuffs. I couldnt close my legs, my nuts were hanging down and looking very vulnerable, and I had a huge erection. Mike picked up the camera and took a picture of my genital area. He pulled on some surgical gloves, then produced a bottle of sterilising solution and some swabs and gently wiped my scrotum. Next he took a syringe, filled it with local anaesthetic (I think it was Xylocaine) and gently felt my scrotum to locate the cords. Each cord received two shots of anaesthetic. Whilst waiting for the anaesthetic to take effect, Mike returned to his bag and brought out the Burdizzo clamp. I couldnt believe the size of it. He said it was a 19 inch model, and said with a chuckle that it was designed for castrating mature bulls. Mike carefully cleaned the head of the Burdizzo with sterilising solution, and then came over to the bed. He massaged my scrotum and said, Can you feel anything, Boy? I replied No, Sir. Good, he said, then placed the rubber gag in my mouth and strapped it tightly behind my head, Now Im going to castrate you. He started work on my right testicle, tugging the cords to the edge of my scrotum and carefully positioning the clamp. I saw the muscles in his arm flex as he closed the clamp and heard a loud click. I felt no pain at all. He repeated the procedure a second time on the right side, but a little lower down the scrotum. Mike took another photograph, then turned his attention to my left testicle. The Burdizzo had to stay closed for 30 seconds for each clamping so Mike paid a lot of attention to the clock that he had placed on the bed. Before releasing the clamp each time he tugged at the cords to make sure that they were ruptured. I had been clamped twice on each side to ensure effective castration, and after he had finished the procedure I had four small cuts in my scrotum, some of which were bleeding a little. After taking another photograph, he cleaned the cuts with sterilising solution, paused to admire his handiwork, then padded some wound dressing around my scrotum. I was released from the gag, and the wrist and ankle cuffs, and took off my rubber chaps. Mike told me to get dressed, so I carefully put on my underpants, tee-shirt and jeans. Whilst I got dressed he packed the plastic sheet and the castration gear into his bag. I phoned the hotel reception and asked for coffee to be sent up to my room. As we drunk our coffee Mike assured me that the cuts to my scrotum would heal within a few days, and reminded me that I should expect to see some blood in the fluid the next couple of times I wanked. Over the last few months I have watched my lifeless nuts shrink. There is no sensation in them, and when I squeeze them it feels like Im handling Plasticine. I am very pleased that I have achieved my desire to be castrated, and I have the photographs to remind me of the big balls I used to have and the clamping that they received.
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