and you thought it was bad enough to have the risk og HIV around ...
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Health Measures by Kortpeel -------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------- I cried when we took my little brother to be castrated. I was 13 at the time and already filling a B cup. Mick was 10 and didn't really know what it was all about. Me crying upset him so Mom got cross with me. "It's nothing to cry about," Mom scolded. "It's for his own good." I realise now that Mom must have been even more upset about it than I was. Mick was going to be denied a normal adolescence, a birthright for boys down through the ages. Mom would have done anything that would help her kids and she must have gone through agonies of indecision before she finally decided it would be for the best. A pretty young nurse in her early twenties came into the waiting room and said it was our turn. I wanted to go with them but Mom was worried I'd make a fuss. I promised her I'd be quiet. Given that his balls had to come out in any case, I was curious to see what actually was going to happen. At that stage anything to do with masculinity was of absorbing interest to me. Come to that, I suppose it still is. The nurse got Mick to undress. He was a bit shy about that but in those clinical surroundings he felt that he should comply. Then an older woman, a nursing sister, very kindly took the trouble to explain to Mick, and of course to Mom and me although she spoke directly to Mick, what was going to happen. Mick wasn't all that bothered as long as it wouldn't hurt. "It'll just be a bit tender for a few days while the cuts heal," the Sister reassured him. They got him on to a table and he had to kneel over a stool with his legs splayed. I watched with fascination and actually saw the testicles as they took them out of their little bag and cut them off. I know it was my own brother but I actually felt an arousal in my lower torso from watching this. I noticed Mom wiping her eyes and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. I think she appreciated it. Mick didn't seem a bit bothered. It was a bit tender down there apparently but as long as it didn't get knocked it didn't actually hurt. He was much more excited about the model aircraft kit he was going to get on the way home. Mick was heavily into that sort of thing at the time. Mom was feeling as guilty as all hell about what she'd had done to Mick and he got, what for a boy of his age, must have the ultimate in radio control as well the plane. He was delighted about it and his naïve enthusiasm only upset Mom even more. Back home Mick couldn't wait to get busy on his model. He got his friend Norris round to show it off to him and left me and Mom in the kitchen. I could see Mom was in one hell of a state and needed to talk. "I hope to God I've done the right thing," Mom said letting the tears flow at last. "What sort of a mother am I to do that to my own son." "Mick didn't seem all that bothered," "He's too young to know. What will he think of me when he gets older?" "He'll know it was for his own good." "The road to hell," Mom said. "Oh damn this horrid disease." Mom was talking about gamma HIV. The old aids had at last been beaten, almost. Vaccines and treatments for it had become so good and so inexpensive that it was no more serious than a common cold and a lot more easily cured. Then just when you thought it was safe to go back in the sexual waters - without a condom even - along came this new strain. Gamma HIV can be transmitted through saliva and through the skin in any sort of intimate embrace. Some people claim to have contracted it through a handshake. It has a gestation period of two to three years when it's virtually undetectable and then it erupts into full blown gamma aids and death occurs about six months later. It swept around the world like a hurricane and killed countless millions even before people knew about it. We'd seen footage on TV of wild animals walking through empty cities in Africa. In the west the real estate market collapsed and houses could be had free for the taking; there were no longer enough people to occupy them. Schools were shut down all over Europe and the States. There weren't enough kids to keep them open and, in any case, it wasn't safe to go to school. The world was becoming an empty place once more. Once the disease was recognised the only possible defence was complete chastity and no physical contact with another person. Even then you could get it accidentally. The virus survives briefly outside the body and contaminates clothes and bedding. A cough or sneeze from an infected person spreads the disease. People took to wearing face masks when going out in public. The old aids had merely been a dress rehearsal for the big one. Such is the power of testosterone that millions of young people died before the idea of pre-pubertal castration caught on. Even then it was voluntary to begin with and Mick, or rather Mom, was one of the pioneers. It was the successful revival of one Albert Springer that made castration an option. With death from terminal cancer only weeks away he had himself cryogenically preserved. One hundred years later, almost to the day, Springer was revived and his cancer easily cured by a few injections. A healthy man, he enjoyed his fortune for a few years until he got careless and caught gamma HIV. Once Springer had proved that cryogenic preservation worked researchers applied the technique to body parts. Since it was so dangerous to have young men running around with testosterone in their blood, why not remove the source before they develop all the bad habits it engenders? That was the argument. Castrate boys before puberty. The testicles would be cryogenically preserved until the young man was past the dangerous age and they could safely be re-attached. You can imagine the fun that the tabloids had with that one to begin with. Moralists screamed for and against the idea. Governments debated it at length. In the end it was mothers who decided. Rather than bury their sons they had them fixed. Even then they'd have risked gamma HIV it but for the fact that reattachment at some future date was intended. Cryogeny is not cheap so it was the wealthy who led the way and gave respectability to the idea. Legislation soon followed. In America it was called the Safety of the People Act and pre-pubertal castration became the norm. Mick was one of the first to be treated under the government scheme. The cutting, preservation and subsequent restoration were all paid for by the federal government in terms of that Act Meanwhile, a whole generation of girls were impregnated with sperm from donors preserved from before the arrival of gamma HIV. I was one of them. If you think artificial insemination is an unattractive way of getting pregnant I thoroughly agree with you. I was a 28 year old virgin with two kids. But it's still a lot better than being dead. I personally feel cheated that I was part of the first generation of girls in the history of humanity that grew up without guys trying to get into their pants. I've talked to older women about it and it sounds so wonderful that in the old days just about every young man you met practically ached to have sex with you. And how the boys of those days had firm buttocks muscular bodies and grew beards. The thought of a big hard penis sliding into me, stretching me down there and the release of fresh virile sperm into my womb is exciting beyond words. Mick grew up happily without his testicles and free from the aching lust of normal youth. When we were at home as a family nudity was quite common. I'm told that an unfixed man's penis is much bigger and fatter than Mick's which was tiny. The bag where his testicles would go was just a little tiny piece of skin behind the penis. Presumably it would stretch when his testicles went back. All of us: Mom, Mick and I, were always a little overweight around the hips. In fact, from the back, nude, we all looked much the same. At first I thought it quite a wicked thing Mom had had done to Mick to deprive him like that. Mick's friend Norris was uncut and he was growing nicely into a man. I used to watch his progress with interest, even though he was younger than me. There were so few real boys left. I'd just about decided to let Norris pick my cherry when he stopped coming around. Then he died. At the funeral we stood around in a group, wrapped from head to foot in our long gowns like mediaeval monks as protection from infection. I cried for Norris into my mask and realised what a narrow escape I'd had. I blessed Mom that she'd saved Mick from temptation. Safely back home I cuddled Mick, hugged him and told him how glad I was that he was still alive. Mom felt exactly the same way and for once as a family we really appreciated each other. By that stage everyone knew of cases like Norris and testicles came out all over the world. Testosterone became a scarce commodity. There were so few people that the federal government had a campaign to persuade girls that it was their patriotic duty to have babies by artificial insemination. Maternity grants were so generous that a girl could make a decent living from motherhood alone. At first there was a stigma about at being in a permanent relationship with a eunuch. In girl circles that was considered a poor second best. However, when all is said and done a eunuch is still a man with a man's way of thinking. And any straight girl much prefers a man around and her own man at that, even if he does have a total lack of libido By the time I was twenty it was a eunuch or nothing. For a minority of girls the lack of sex didn't matter all that much but to the vast majority of us it's a cross to be born. My guy, Edwin, is about Mick's age. I was 23 when I met him. He was 20 and five years from being eligible for restoration. We got on ok and decided to set up together. My two girls, Anna and Jenni, 7 and 4 at the time, had taken to him so we became a family, much like there used to be in the old days. Mom thought it was wonderful how modern guys did the work around the house. She said that in her time it was usually the women who did it. Having Edwin around improved life a lot. A full body massage and those lovely caresses in one's sensitive areas are much nicer from a guy. He was skilful and his fingers and tongue gave me a great deal of pleasure. How I looked forward to the time when he would be restored and he would be able to please me with his penis. When we talked about his restoration I sensed that Edwin wasn't all that enthusiastic about it. He'd read about having testicles and the effect testosterone had upon men and it rather scared him. The books talked about uncontrollable sexual urges and men's vulnerability to lust. That struck him as a dreadful weakness. And a dangerous one too. There was such a scarcity of men with testicles out there that women were apt to entice restored men into having sex. We all knew that casual sex meant death yet as he understood it, having balls meant he would be unable to resist .the temptation. Not that he could imagine how there would be a temptation. He could only picture lust in terms of a good meal or relieving a full bladder. I learnt that most eunuchs were content with their lot and had no great desire for restoration with its dangers and strange incomprehensible feelings. The accounts they'd heard from their pals who'd been restored sounded to them like the babblings of madmen and only reinforced the reluctance. Most of them preferred to live a bachelor life so I was lucky to have Edwin. There was some talk of making restoration compulsory but the legislators, mindful of human rights and not wanting to offend the contented eunuch lobby dropped the idea. This was only to be expected. A lot of them were themselves contented eunuchs. My own brother, Mick, was still living at home with Mom. Mom certainly wasn't going to upset her apple cart by persuading Mick to go for restoration. I had a feeling that there'd never be any nephews or nieces from Mick in my life. However I did want Edwin to have his testicles put back and I had five years to work on him. Twenty five was the minimum age for restoration by which time, so the original legislators had considered, a man would be mature enough safely to cope with testosterone in his bloodstream. I got him reluctantly to agree. So on Edwin's twenty fifth birthday I took him to the clinic, the same one where Mick had been cut. I'm sure it was the same two nurses, fifteen years older. They were still as friendly and competent as I remembered from Mick's visit, and they were so enthusiastic. Edwin was as nervous as hell about the whole procedure and would have walked out except that the two nurses charmed him into going through with it. "We love doing restorations," they cooed. "In the old days they used to say the army would make a man of you, " the older one said. "Nowadays it's nurses who do it," the younger one added. I think they must have said that a thousand times to their various patients. Even so I had to laugh. Poor Edwin who was quite content with his male status and unable to recognise his deficiency looked bewildered. I'd seen Mick's balls come out and I watched Edwin's go back in. Going in is more exciting than coming out. It's also more complicated as the microsurgery to re-attach the testicular cords is a fiddly, slow process that takes well over an hour. I had to leave him there overnight for observation. Collecting him the next morning felt funny. Now I had a real man with balls at my side. I felt excited about that. I knew I was the envy of most other women. Also I was a little apprehensive. Would he change? Would he go off after other women? I'd thought about these questions a lot and now it was for real it was kind of nervous making.. I took his arm, shielding him from all predatory females. This one's mine, my body language told the world. When we got home I realised I too would have some adjustments to make. Anna and Jenni, now 12 and 10 greeted us. Not only were they both dressed with their hair brushed, they were actually wearing dresses instead of the usual jeans and t shirt. Their female instincts were active enough to recognise an occasion when one occurred. They were acutely aware that we now had a man with balls in the house. Edwin didn't recognise it as an occasion. He'd expected to be buffeted by all those weird sensations he heard about and didn't feel any different at all, except that he was a bit sore down there. He did later ask why the girls were acting so strangely toward him: "They keep looking at me and giggling." I told him they were just pleased to see him back home. The next twelve months brought a lot more female excitement in the household. Edwin's skin went more textured and he started to shave, once a week at first and then more often. His figure lost the fat around the hips and he developed those lovely cute male buns like I'd only seen in pictures. His voice broke. For a few weeks Edwin didn't know if he was going to sound normal or squeaky or make no sound at all when he spoke. Then he developed the most beautiful baritone voice that made me moisten up every time I heard it. I know it had the same effect on Anna but she instinctively didn't let Edwin know it. His physical strength increased quite suddenly and for a while he didn’t know how to handle it. He broke several things in consequence and I had to remind him to be careful with me and the children. It gave me an excuse to stop him picking the girls up and throwing them around. Anna for one was starting to enjoy it in the wrong way. That was the outward part that I had perforce to share with the girls. I was surprised to find myself being jealous of Anna and thinking of her as competition. My own daughter! The other part was between Edwin and me. His penis got bigger and he started to get erections. He grew a fine crop of pubic hair. His whole body got hairy. And I ceased being a virgin! The first few times were over much too soon and much as I enjoyed his ejaculations I would have preferred a little more time to enjoy the build up as well. However Edwin learnt quickly and the first time he brought me to a real climax I cried out aloud. Anna sulked all next day. One effect that surprised and rather shocked me, even as I happily concurred, was that our relationship subtly changed. I started to defer to Edwin, to regard him sort of as the boss of the house. I hadn't known about that before but apparently there is an instinct in a woman to do this when she has a man with balls. I discussed it with Mom one day and she said that's how it used to be when she was young and all men had their balls. I resented it but couldn't help myself doing it. Heck! A part of me enjoyed it. I noticed that in a similar way the girls began to treat Edwin with a lot more respect. Edwin didn't notice. He took on a rôle as leader quite naturally without even thinking about it. He just loved us all and accepted the deference. And he gradually did less housework too. The nonsense from other women started as I'd expected. However Edwin's mind was mature, even if his testicles weren't. He managed to resist temptation in a pleasant charming way that only served to drive them wild. How relieved I was that he would do so. Of course I didn't have him all to myself. After a year the clinic was on to me for donations of Edwin's sperm. Healthy sperm was becoming such a scarce commodity that I couldn't refuse. Gamma HIV was still raging, fewer men were being restored and the old pre gamma sperm banks had long been used up. While I could legitimately refuse my sisters out there the services of Edwin's penis I couldn't deny them the fruit of his testicles. Virginity was bad enough but barrenness to me seemed a wasted life. So began six monthly visits to the clinic for Edwin and me. Later it became monthly visits and as, over several years, the situation deteriorated they called at the house fortnightly. The semen extraction procedure is simple enough. Mom once told me that when she was a girl she'd done it to boys just for fun and simply wasted the ejaculate. How the world has changed! Then on one occasion, not long after Anna's 16th birthday they called for a sample while I was busy with our baby. "Can I do it Mom?" Anna asked. I was going to say certainly not, which is probably what Anna expected. Then I thought why not? She's old enough, they're not blood related. Saddest of all is she might never come across a full size penis in her whole life." "Ask Edwin if it's ok with him." Anna looked surprised and delighted. She rushed off to ask him. Moments later he came in to where I was breast feeding baby. "Anna says it's ok with you if she takes the sperm sample?" "Well, if you don't mind." "All right." So I let Anna get the sample from Edwin, under my supervision of course. She was nervous: her hand was shaking so much that even if she'd tried to keep it still she'd have got a sample. "Thanks Mom," she said afterwards. "It's lot bigger than I thought." We had a long mother daughter conversation. I think Anna learnt a lot that day My own life is happy and long may it remain so but I just pray for the day that this accursed disease will be beaten. How nice when boys keep their balls on growing up and ache to get into girls pants as they always used to And girls can choose just who they'll let in. What a lovely world that would be.. End