Millenium Athlete

By: oldspark ([email protected])

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[GAY] [TESTICLES] [MINOR] Other:


A young triathalon athlete learns he does better without his "boys".

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Millennium Athlete

October 2000 is when I was conceived, on the continent of Australia.
Mum was the gold medal winner in the women’s cross-country bicycle 
event. She represented the USA. Dad was the silver medal winner in 
the men’s cross-county bicycle event.  He represented Germany. They 
met the night of the closing ceremonies and decided to ride around 
Australia for a few weeks before returning home. I was conceived 
during a night of hot passionate love making in a campsite somewhere 
near Melbourne. During that bicycle trip, my father, a mechanical 
engineer for Siemens, and my mother, an instructor of business 
administration at UCLA, formed a business alliance that lasts to 
this day. They decided to design and manufacture hi-tech racing 
bicycles.

My parents never married. Instead, my mother resides in Los Angeles 
with her life partner/girlfriend and manages the US part of the new 
company. My father resides in Germany, near the French and Italian 
borders, where the final stages of the Tour De France are raced, an 
manages the research and development arm of the company.

I lived with my mother exclusively until the age of 10, after which 
 I started to spend 6 months with each parent. Since both of my 
parents are superb athletes, (my father won second overall place 
several times in the Tour), and since both are driven to succeed in 
all things athletic, I was under extreme pressure to do likewise.

Since shortly after birth, I have been exposed to racing bicycles. 
At first in a carrier on the back of my mother’s, and later on my 
own, specially designed hi-tech cycle that was designed by dad. 
Unfortunately, I always found bicycle racing to be boring. And so, 
to appease my parents, and to prove my own worth, I ventured into 
the sport of the triathlon. Thus, I could boost  my parents pride 
because part of the triathlon involves cycling. My mother is also a 
world class swimmer, so I satisfied that pride as well. Finally, my 
dad is a superb runner, finishing second in many marathons world 
wide.

I was provided with a triathlon coach as soon as I stated my desire 
at age 10. He was a champion in the sport at UCLA until (it is said) 
his knees gave out. At 25, Chris was in superb shape, and strong. He 
made me work hard when I was in LA, with workouts on a daily basis. 
When I reached the age of 12, and puberty started to kick in, I 
realized that I adored Chris. I began to flirt with him, only to be 
told to work harder. I would go out of my way to make sure he saw me 
in tight shorts, or is my underwear, or even naked, as I went to the 
shower, or dressed. He only responded by ignoring my exhibitionism.

At age 14, I was a winner. I had already competed locally and 
statewide and had taken gold in each try. My parents provided me 
with all the latest in hi-tech gear and clothing. That summer I 
would participate in the international meet in France. Since Chris 
would accompany  me to Europe,  I was really anticipating the trip. 
At night I would lie on my bed, masturbating sometimes 2 times a 
night, my sexual fantasies filled with the affair that I was going 
to initiate with Chris. You see, through all the years, I had never 
known Chris to date a woman. I had however, occasionally seen him in 
the company of young men, but rarely the same one twice.

At age 14 I had another problem though. My testicles were growing 
fast. As a prepubescent boy, I had always worn proper protection for 
my genitals, but now, no matter what kind of supporter I wore, my 
balls were constantly being irritated by my athletic efforts. My 
penis was growing too, at a slower pace, but I could hold it up out 
of the way. I believed that the irritation was beginning to affect 
my performance. Near the end of recent events, my balls ached so 
much I could hardly make the finish line. I always had such a large 
lead, it didn’t matter. But the second place finishers were getting 
closer.

A few months before we left for Germany, I was rummaging through the 
free samples of products that my mother was constantly getting from 
manufacturers, trying to find a better designed supporter. Many of 
the products were experimental and had been provided for marketing 
purposes, not for actual use. Unknown to me, some were faulty in 
design and were being redesigned. 

I found a cool looking strap though. It was made of a black fiber 
and felt  really soft. I looked at the label and it said something 
like 50% composite carbon fiber …I never figured a carbon based 
fiber to be soft but it was.

I had a local race that afternoon so I took the strap with me. Chris 
drove his van as usual and I started to get ready as soon as we 
arrived. Part of my flirtation was to take all of my street clothes 
off first and spend some time naked. Chris as usual left the van so 
I could dress in private. I put the strap on first. The leg straps 
were similar to a normal strap, but it had a special ball pouch that 
expanded to fit over my nuts and then closed back up.  After I got 
the strap on, I put on my speedos for the first part of the race. 
After the 2 mile swim, I would change into my biking shorts for the 
20 mile ride. I would run the 10 mile marathon in the shorts as 
well. I would keep the strap on for the entire race.

I was doing well as usual through the entire swim. I had a 30 second 
lead when I climbed onto the bike, and was increasing my lead when 
the pain started about 1 mile into the race. It felt like my nuts 
were in a vise. It wasn’t the usual pain but totally different. My 
training and competitive attitude kicked in and the pain seemed to 
diminish as I pumped my legs even faster. My balls were feeling kind 
of weird when I finished the bike race. They felt like they had lead 
weights tied to them. I didn’t stop though. I dropped the bike and 
started my normal start of race kick to set a blistering pace. I now 
had a several minute lead. At the 7 mile marker, the pain started to 
get worse again. I was starting to get fatigued, something that had 
never happened before. I increased my pace as best I could  but this 
time the pain didn’t diminish. Instead it moved into my abdomen. I 
had been racing for nearly 4 hours now. I knew I would not win when 
other racers started to pass me. I was beginning to doubt if I would 
even finish. Then, at mile 8 I collapsed and passed out.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Mum was standing on one side 
and Chris on the other. Mum was holding my hand. She was crying. I 
looked at Chris. He had a strange look on his face.

A few hours later I was in a regular room. Mum had left for a 
business thing, since I was out of all danger. Chris was sitting 
next to me. After the nurse left, Chris said he had some bad news 
for me. He told me that I had suffered from an injury called 
testicle torsion. He said that the strap I was wearing had started 
to un-bond from exposure to the cold water of the swim. The fibers 
had come apart from each other and started to wind around my 
scrotum. Then when I started riding, they got even more twisted and 
had shrunk when the heat from my body had increased. He told me that 
the strap had literally strangled my nut sack and cut off the blood 
to both testes. Then he told me the really bad news. When the doctor 
had opened my nut sack to see the damage he discovered that both 
balls had died due to lack of blood. He told my mum he had to remove 
both immediately so I didn’t experience  other problems. She had 
reluctantly agreed.

I didn’t sleep well that night. Besides becoming a eunuch, I was 
despondent  because I thought I had missed my chance at seducing 
Chris. How could a hunk like Chris find a nutless boy of any 
interest?

The doctor talked to me several days later. He told me that even 
though the strap had probably caused some of the problems, my 
testicles were already on the way to disaster. He told me there was 
far more torsion than could have been caused by the strap. He asked 
if I had been having trouble because of  their size. I told him I 
had and he said that both showed signs of tumor development. He 
concluded by telling me that I probably would have developed 
testicular cancer within the year.

Then he told me the good news. He said that there was no sign that 
the cancer had started to spread, and because the removal had been 
so easy (for him at least) that I would be fully recovered with 1 
month. I asked if I could still participate in the upcoming 
triathlon and he told me absolutely yes. Fortunately, I had already 
secured my place in the race, and the determination of gender wasn’t 
based on the presence or absence of testicles. He told me I could 
swim or run, but to stay off of  my bicycle for at least 1 month to 
give the stitches time to heal. He went on to tell me that because 
of the oversized balls, my sac had grown excessively large, so when 
he took my nuts he had also reduced the scrotum. He left some pouch 
in case I wanted to consider artificial balls at some point.

Three week later I was on my bike. During the weeks I had tested my 
swimming and running ability and had discovered that the lack of 
testes was actually a benefit. I no longer held back subconsciously, 
trying to avoid damage due to extreme effort. Instead I could give 
my all with no fear. The same proved true on my bicycle. I actually 
did better time trials now that I was a gelded boy.

Chris worked me hard. I had a different attitude now. Although I was 
using testosterone patches (I at least wanted to get my voice to 
something besides its present adolescent cackle), my sex drive 
seemed to be diminished, and I didn’t seem to have the same lust for 
Chris. Instead, I felt different emotions, more brotherly, for him.

Just before we were scheduled to depart, Chris asked me to his 
apartment. When I arrived, he started to remove his shorts, telling 
me he wanted me to see something. He stood there totally naked in 
front of me. His flaccid penis hung limply between legs that had 
been scarred. He lifted his limp penis to show me the small empty  
sac. Then he told me, that in his last race he had been involved in 
a terrible accident. One rider had been fatally injured and he had 
lost both testes as well as some nerves in his groin.

Now I understood why he would always walk away when I was being 
amorous. I asked him about the young men I saw him with an he told 
me that he occasionally brought home a call boy to service his needs 
from behind. Apparently, he could still have an orgasm when someone 
penetrated him.

Our relationship grew from that point onward. I went on to win the 
race in record time. Chris and I spent our free time together. I 
eventually moved in to his apartment with him, where we would invite 
fully functional males from time to time to service our needs.

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