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Store Front Operation
By Steven Aldea © May 2002 All Rights Reserved My chief editor from the paper I worked for sent me on a mission to investigate a store front operation business off Broadway that no one really new much about. Perhaps he wanted me to see of they wanted to buy adds in our paper for their advertisement, I thought as I headed on my way to Broadway and L Street. I noticed a lot of young guys going into this room. They took off their clothes and laid on what seemed to look like medical tables with their feet in stirrups. It was like clockwork I observed two teams of men wearing lab coats. First I saw one inject something into the young men's scrotums, followed by another man in a white lab coat with a scalpel and a pair of gold tipped scissors and suturing material. The lab coat male with a scalpel put on his rubber surgical gloves and made from what I saw a midline cut low in the young mans scrotum. It was in a matter of minutes that I saw the testicles extracted tied off and the guy sewn up. The age group was in the range from 16 to 20 who after their castration portrayed themselves to be in sense of calmness as they left the storefront. I noticed some older guys as well getting castrated, they were more crabby and were complaining about the wait from what I saw from a distance. I tried to sneak around a bit, walking around the building, observing the comings and goings of these young people. On several days I noticed a high school buss parked outside, and guys wearing only a work out T-shirt, a jock strap, shorts and athletic shoes. I moved closer inside of the store into the room where I saw about 30 tables and equal to the amount of castrators. I herd one of the cutters say, "you boys won't be needing them jock-straps" (as you are here to have your balls cut) after your castrated you can put your jocks in the box by the waiting bench. One of the guys named meat, kept feeling his big cock and balls, I heard another tenant say to the men, "drop your cocks and shorts and lie down on the tables with your feet in the stirrups, it won't hurt I promise and it only takes a few minutes, were his somber words". I had gathered that these were highs school seniors from a school outside the county; I could tell some of the men were nervous as they patiently sat on the bench for their turn to be cut. It became apparent to one of the security guards caught on I was spying, and I tried to quickly get away! What do we have here the one tall Study Security guard said, a newspaper reporter? I told them that I worked for the daily newspaper and I was out here to do a story and or find out what this new business on the end of town was? Well we will show you what we do here, as I was man handled and my pants were pulled down from me and I was held down upon one of the castrating tables. I felt a needle sting a bit as they were numbing me, as of course remembering what the cutter said the high school jocks about not feeling a thing. Within minutes I saw the castrator with the scalpel and gold tipped scissors coming over to my balls. It was fate I suppose to loose my balls this day, after I saw they had stitched me up I was told that if I eve reported on the happenings of the store, I would loose my penis. I asked them what they did with all the jockstraps that were from the high school students? They said that they sold them to people who had a jockstrap fetish. In my concluding investigation that I never reported back to my editor back at the paper, I did not even know if this was some religious cult or government operation. My balls were cut, which was bad enough did want to return to see my penis cut off. 5/8/02 11:53 hours
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