Byzantium 6: Part 1- Like Bellowing Bull Calves

A castrator for hire gelds four youths. Part Three will follow the 
adventures of one of them

By the author of the Byzantium stories, SS Research Unit, Gelding 
The Boy-Herd and Cut Boy.

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Stephen Maimonedes is one of the city's largest money-lenders. He is 
a hard man. Whenever one of his clients defaults on a loan, he is 
known for his refusal to extend or change the terms. Rather he 
immediately seizes the surety. Frequently this involves him taking 
over whole estates, including all land, buildings and slaves.  

However he does not sell these assets off as they are. Rather, more 
money is to be made by selling them piecemeal. Before he auctions 
off the land and buildings, everything movable goes: furniture, farm 
implements, barrels of wine or olive oil, the stock and horses. 
Every slave is sent to market. And because eunuchs can gain up to 
six or seven times the price of what an ungelded slave will get, he 
has as many of the younger slaves castrated as possible. For a long 
time I have been the one to cut these slaves for him. 

So yesterday I found myself and the two black slaves who assist me 
in my task, traveling to a run-down estate around two hours ride 
from the city-gates. From the moment we entered the place it was 
forlorn with neglect. Sagging gates had been unrepaired. Fallen 
olive trees had been left where they lay. The house, which once had 
been a grand building, was fallen into neglect. Window shutters 
hanging off hinges and rubbish piled in the corners of the outer 
yards. 

I was greeted by one of Maimonides' servants, a man named John Ducas 
who was often placed in charge of stripping the assets of estates 
that had fallen into his master's hands. We had spent some time 
together in the past and I found him an efficient man and an amiable 
enough companion.

'We are not getting much out of this one,' he complained as he 
walked me into the house. 

The rooms were mainly empty for most of their furniture had already 
gone. The plaster on the walls was cracked and discoloured.

'There's four here for you to geld. I've got them separated out. 
Mainly older ones. And we've rigged up everything how you like it. 
Then tomorrow we go across the river to the other estate. There is 
five there, a couple of good young ones that should get a good 
price.'

The quicker you geld a slave, the quicker they heal and can be 
marketed. So after I had sat down for some bread, cheese and a glass 
of the bitter wine of the estate we walked out towards the stables. 
The yard was unpaved, the clay rutted with old tracks. Musty and 
mildewed straw was piled in the corners. The few horses that 
remained were old and unkempt.

One of the stalls had been faced with a gate of recently erected 
wooden bars, tightly tied together by knotted rope, to act as a 
holding pen. Inside were four slaves, sitting amid the straw dressed 
only in their long shirts, with bare legs. They were all aged around 
sixteen. 

It is younger boys, around twelve or thirteen who still bring the 
best price as eunuchs, but recently older geldings have been getting 
 better prices. It is a fashion now for men and women to be 
accompanied in public by a white eunuch, a good-looking Greek or 
Slav. Younger eunuchs are still kept almost exclusively for work in 
the women's quarters. Both older and younger geldings however 
frequently serve their male owners in bed. It is therefore 
necessary, if you wish to obtain the best prices, to pick those 
slaves that will be attractive to purchasers. And John is an old 
hand at this selection.

We stood a little back from the stall so that we could talk easily. 
There is no use alarming the slaves because it only means more work 
when they fight as they are taken to be cut.

The oldest of the youths was an Italian slave. He had 
chestnut-coloured hair in a mass of tight short curls. He was stocky 
with an open handsome face. Even in the unfamiliar setting of that 
stall he was relaxed and confident.

'He's a well-shaped boy,' said John. 'Well hung as well. Good shaped 
rear. He's actually been put to a girl for the last few months.'

Well-hung slaves often bring good prices as eunuchs. This has always 
puzzled me. But owners seem to enjoy the fact that such a slave has 
been cut for their own use.

The second slave was a Slav with blonde hair that was darker 
underneath.

'He's a fine one too. Good taut body. Tight buttocks. Good skin '

Young Slavs are much valued as eunuchs, especially the blondes. I've 
cut many of them in my life. Frequently they are wild by nature and 
there are those who say that no Slav ever makes a good slave unless 
he has been nutted to calm him down. 

The other two were Hungarians with black hair, brown eyes and olive 
complexions. Both were of slim build, still wiry, and they possessed 
the fine features of the young of that race.  They would make a good 
pair, being of approximately the same height. If you can bring a 
matched pair to market, there are those who pay well to have two 
such similar eunuchs.

'From what I can figure they seem to be cousins,' said John.

I nodded. There could have been a  family resemblance. 

'They're not too bad for such an run-down estate, ' I commented to 
John as we walked across the yard. 'You could have done a lot 
worse.'

He puffed his cheeks and nodded.

'It would have been better to have had a few more. We're probably 
not going to recover all the debt. The chattels are worth shit. The 
land itself is mainly rocks and steep slope..'

They had prepared the hitching rail that was used for horses by 
driving four sets of pegs spaced out directly below it. On some 
estates that I work in, they have gelding tables. When these are not 
available, using hitching posts like this is an easy solution. I 
also prefer to geld older slaves from behind. Younger boys, around 
twelve or thirteen are best done on a table, lying flat, with their 
legs spread to expose their balls. Older slaves are easier done, 
bent over a rail or a table, with their balls hanging down ready to 
be clipped. 

Four iron pegs had also been driven into the mud-brick wall directly 
behind the hitching rail. We'd tie each slave's hands together 
leaving sufficient rope free to knot around these pegs thus ensuring 
the slave, with his spread-out legs, was pulled tight to the bar 
with his arms stretched out in front of him.

'Where are we going to put them afterwards?' I asked.

John pointed me at a wide-lean-to that had once been used for 
storage. There were four thin straw pallets on the floor. It would 
do at a pinch. The slaves were young and healthy, by the look of 
them, and they'd soon be up and about even if they wouldn't be 
entirely healed enough to be sold for nine or ten days.

I laid out my bag  and unwrapped my knives. I always keep them as 
sharp as possible. I have them specially made. They fit snug in my 
hand with short curved blades made from thin steel. While I was 
readying myself I noticed that John's assistants were gathering as 
usual. Men usually enjoy watching a gelding, if it is another male 
that is being gelded. 

I gave my own slaves the ropes that they'd use to tie the hands of 
the youths, then I checked the foot-bonds below the hitching-rail. 
There is nothing worse than a slave getting free when he is 
struggling against his bonds and you are in the midst of cutting his 
balls. 

Then I nodded at John. 

'I'm ready,' I said.

We walked back across the yard. The four youths were watching us. 
Though they had an air of nervousness because of the change in their 
routine and their circumstances, they were not unduly worried. They 
knew they were to be sold and had become used to the idea. They had 
no idea of their true fate.

'Stand up,' John ordered them, 'and take off your shirts.'

They stood reluctantly and each of them seemed to wait for another 
to begin to strip before they did.

'Come on, ' John hurried them, 'we haven't all day.'

To me he muttered something about the lax discipline of the whole 
place. But I barely listened as I watched the slaves lift their 
shirts over their heads, to reveal their sudden complete nakedness 
with dark patches of pubic hair vivid in their loins around a 
glimpsed prick length and close balls.

'Out here in the yard, in a line,' John ordered as he tugged open 
the gate on the stalls and the four youths walked naked into the 
dull sunlight. 

I had no real need to examine them intently for John was thorough in 
his selection. They would all be in good health and he would have 
examined every inch of their bodies. However I like to check out 
their balls before I start and also see that they are clean. I have 
a good reputation and I seldom lose a slave to infection.

The Italian boy stood with his legs slightly apart. I believe you 
can always tell the difference in a young slave once he has had sex 
with a women. They get more confident and they possess a physical 
ease that virgin youths do not have. You could tell that this youth 
was in the first flush of sexual discovery.  

I stood in front of him. He had those piercing blue eyes one often 
sees in Northern Italians and he met my gaze with ease. He would 
definitely sell well. I put my left hand on his shoulder close to 
his neck, holding him there and then I reached down between his legs 
with my right hand and grasped his balls. The suddenness of my 
gesture startled him and I could see him flinch. His balls in their 
loose sac were heavy. I could feel the faint hairiness of that pouch 
as I found two stones within. He stood his ground as I carefully 
moved his balls in their confine. Then I studied his prick. Even 
unerect, his prick was a good length and thick. His foreskin came to 
the tip of its head but no further. I hefted it in one hand to feel 
it's weight for a moment, and briefly skinned back his foreskin to 
reveal his glans. His pubic hair was a dark, dark brown and was just 
beginning to trickle upward across his flat hard stomach towards his 
navel.

Then I walked behind him. As I moved out of his sight I could see 
his body tense a little again. His buttocks were round and creamy. I 
simply grasped them with both hands and pulled them apart. Bending a 
little I could see the brown pucker of his asshole in a faint nest 
of dark hair. He was clean. I put my hand down underneath his rear 
and pushed it between his legs to feel the hair their behind his 
balls. Then I left him. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, somehow 
violated by my examination of his genitals and his ass.

The Slav swallowed nervously as I approached him. He was one of 
those blondes whose pubic hair is dark, almost black. He was finely 
muscled. As I grasped his shoulder I could feel him rigid now with 
tension. While he dropped his gaze, I could still feel his dislike 
of me. I reached between his legs. His balls were close and his sac 
was tightly rounded against his body. I felt his balls through that 
skin, moving them around there.  His prick was of average length 
with its foreskin coming right over the tip. I held its warmth for a 
minute. The youth's whole stance was tight and alert. 

His buttocks, from behind were small and well-shaped with that faint 
hollow on the side. Pulling them apart I could feel the resistance 
of his muscles. He too was clean, the closed secret of his asshole 
in the midst of that extraordinary dark hair.

The first Hungarian boy was perhaps the youngest of the four. He was 
leggy with slim creamy-coloured thighs. He had a good face, the 
darkness of his eyes agreeing with his black hair. He licked his 
lips nervously as I stood before him. When I reached down between 
his legs I could feel him tremble a little but as I felt his balls 
in their soft sac, his prick stirred against my wrist. His balls 
were heavy and if he had been granted another year or so of growth, 
his prick may have lengthened even further. As I skinned back his 
tight foreskin, I could feel the slight swelling of his prick and 
knew that if I held it for much longer he would stiffen up 
completely. 

His buttocks were taut and pale. There are many men who prefer these 
narrow curves to a fuller and more rounded shape. I pulled them 
apart and inspected his rear with its dark trickle of hair running 
down that close crease and the tight brown of that pucker in it's 
midst.

The other Hungarian was as leggy and slim as the first. He was 
cooler however and confident. He was ready for me to feel him 
between his legs and it was as if his look challenged me to feel 
pleasure because I was touching him there. He was also bigger than 
the other and his stance thrust his prick out before him. It was 
warm between his legs and his balls hung loosely in their skin. 
Behind, his buttocks were slim but filling out, a good handful,  and 
he was hairier between them than was the other. 

I walked over to John who had been watching me. I nodded at him. 
Then I ordered my slaves to tie the hands of the youths in front of 
them. 

They are quick at their task. It simply involves looping a couple of 
turns of the rope around their wrists, then knotting it but leaving 
a length a yard or more long which can be secured later.

'I'll get them over there,' John said when they had been tied. Then 
he ordered the four youths across the derelict yard.

'Stand in front of the bar,' he ordered them as he physically walked 
behind each of them and pushed them into position.

My black slaves were ready.

'Now legs apart to the pegs,' he commanded.

The slaves did not move for a moment. You can see them thinking and 
considering the consequences of their action.

'You heard me,' John shouted as he stood behind the Italian. To 
reinforce his words he aimed a kick at the youth's ankles. The boy 
moved his bare feet out until they reached the two pegs. It is an 
awkward position because the pegs are wide apart. As the other three 
youth's followed suit, my two slaves were already knotting the cords 
around the Italian's ankles.

'Keep your eyes to the front,' he demanded of the other youths. And 
soon each of their legs was firmly bound. It is a simple matter then 
to bend them forward over the hitching-rail and to tie their 
outstretched arms to the peg on the wall in front of them. My black 
slaves have done this many times and their movements are methodical 
as they move down the line.

Standing behind them, each slave, with his legs wide apart and bent 
over, presents his rear to your view, with the darkness of hair 
visible there in the crease and underneath the two rounds of their 
balls hanging down. Even though, as a rule, I have little interest 
in buggering young male slaves, I always find this position 
sufficient to give me the beginnings of an erection. It is just the 
look of their widely spread legs with every muscle pulled tight by 
their bonds and their buttocks parted by their position and all that 
that is between them exposed.

My slaves then gag them all with a damp wad of cloth forced into 
their mouths. By now the youths are anxious. They turn their heads 
about in an effort to see what is to occur. You can see them testing 
their bonds and squirming to make an uncomfortable position easier 
to bear. And the position is shameful to them, exposing their 
vulnerable rear to the gaze of other men.

First I put four noosed thongs, one after the other, over my left 
wrist. Then I approached the Italian youth who tried to turn his 
head to see me. His eyes had lost their confidence and I could see 
doubt replace his former ease. I then reached between his thighs and 
grasped his balls with my left hand, eased up the noose with my 
right and then pulled it as tight as possible high up where the 
scrotum meets his body. As soon as he felt the bite of the leather 
thong, he began to angrily twist his body.

Soon after you tighten that noose, their pricks begin to get stiff. 
It always happens and I do not know whether it is from the feel of 
that knot around their balls or whether the noose constricts the 
blood or some such thing. However they usually do get erect, a fact 
which is good because it keeps their pricks up out of the way. And 
they always do get erect even while their minds are suddenly 
clouding over with the knowledge of what is to come. They suddenly 
connect the idea of that tight knot around their balls with the 
stories they have heard of eunuchs and geldings and they instantly 
realise that this operation is going to be done to them.

I could see the Italian youth make the deduction. One moment he was 
squirming there just from discomfort and confusion, next he was 
desperately attempting to gain his freedom from his roped bonds. 
Standing behind him it was almost as if he had begun to hump the 
hitching rail. I could the movements of his buttocks as he tried to 
free himself, now aware that the masculinity he had so prized was 
about to be taken from him by the will of his new masters. His 
position also exposed his ass to me and as he struggled I could not 
help but think of the fact that in a few weeks, still sullen at what 
had been done to him, he would be spreading his legs to permit his 
new owner to begin a slow penetration of that tight and as yet 
unused entrance to the warmth and heat of his body. 

The other youths were now alert, turning their gagged faces to me, 
aware that something had been changed. The Italian was making 
muffled noises which could not be resolved into words. I moved 
behind the Slav's rear and grasped his balls. You do it without 
looking. There is a couple of pulling strokes, almost as if you were 
milking a cow, as you stretch his sac, then a simple movement of the 
hand to bring the noose up nearer the body and a final tight pull to 
tighten the thong. Your hands are busy under the youth while he 
feels these mysterious actions. Then as the noose tightens you can 
watch their muscles of their back convulse with the unexpected  
feeling of constriction. 

The Slav was aware something had been done to the youth before him 
and he was attentive. He tried to move so as to shake off my hands 
on his balls. I could feel his prick slapping a little on the backs 
on my fingers. He had a neat package, his balls being held close to 
his body and I had to work the noose over them. Then it was 
tightening the noose as hard as possible. With the bite of the 
leather into his sensitive skin, he shuddered. Then as I stood back, 
he too must have made that logical leap from his now-tied balls to 
the gelding knife and I could see his splayed out legs react and his 
struggle begin. Between his legs, as he tried to move, I could see 
his balls and the thong swing with his efforts.

The younger Hungarian boy was already beginning to test his bonds.  
His long thighs were slim and they seemed to expose him more fully. 
 I stood behind him, above those neat buttocks, and felt down for 
his balls and deftly noosed them.  With the closing of the noose he 
began to kick his feet against the pegs and as he did so his butt 
lifted up and down. His legs continued to jerkily splay apart for 
the slight distance his bonds permitted him. At the top of his 
buttock crease I could see small hairs beginning to grow there but 
further down, around his asshole they were dark and black like the 
petals around a carpel of a flower.

Then I proceeded to the other Hungarian. He was already violently 
struggling. He had no knowledge of what had been done to the others 
but he had seen their reactions. I reached down between his 
shuddering thighs and felt his warm balls, then slowly pulled up the 
noose over them. With my gestures he pumped himself against the 
hitching bar. When I tightened the thong hard, his muffled cry was 
one of pain and frustration. Standing back from him, his wide legs 
were bucking and relaxing as he tried to pull himself away from the 
pegs. With each move it was almost as if his asshole opened a little 
and closed.

As I walked back to John and the three of his servants who had 
gathered to watch, the sun went behind a cloud and the decrepitude 
of that stable yard was emphasised. Looking back at the hitching 
rail, the four youths continued to buck and hump as much as they 
could, all their protests muffled by their gags. I usually let them 
work it out for a few minutes. It makes it easier if they manage to 
exhaust themselves. It doesn't take long. A little while struggling 
at those immovable ropes is enough to convince them that their 
efforts are useless. Their pricks also continue to harden. From the 
position, I could see the Hungarian at the end of the row was 
already hard, his prick sticking out straight along his bent-over 
stomach.

Often a slave will ejaculate when you cut them. Some will do it from 
anticipation as soon as you touch their balls with your hand and 
they know the knife is in your other. Sometimes they will come when 
you make that first cut along their scrotum. Other times it will 
occur when you pull out and cut those tubes that link the balls to 
them. Sometimes they won't come at all. It makes no difference to 
me. I know some men will practically nearly jerk off a boy before 
they cut them, in the belief that it is necessary to make them come 
as they are cut. I cannot see the point and I have noticed no 
difference in the subsequent health of the youths and boys I geld. 
I'll give them a stroke or two just prior to doing them, but this is 
it.

'Just like bull-calves,' said John.

And looking back at the slaves bent over as they were, their rears 
exposed and their balls visible between their thighs, they did look 
a little like bull-calves lined up when you cut them for steers.

I readied the two knives I would use, sticking them in my waistband. 
Then I prepared a bowl of salty water in which to rinse my hands. By 
the time I had done this the slaves had quietened down, only 
struggling to turn their heads to see me.

'I'm ready,' I said to John. 

He usually stands out of my way  just to one side of me as I cut 
them. His servants stand about a bit further off. I don't like to be 
crowded.

I picked up the bowl of salty water and walked over to the first 
Hungarian youth at the end of the hitching rail, and put the bowl 
down on the hard-packed earth. Seeing me approach had started him 
bucking again. His head was twisting around to try and see me and 
his long black hair was brushing back and forth against his nape. I 
could see a small line of soft hair ranging down the very top of his 
spine.

'Now the harder you fight, the worse it makes it for you,' I said to 
him and the other youths who were listening. 'I'll do you quick as I 
can, but the more you fight, the harder it is for me and for you.'

Sometimes these words have no effect but this time they did. The 
youth seemed to give one final heave and then suddenly it was as if 
he surrendered to me. I could see him bite down on his gag hard 
before his head bowed forward. Then he stiffened his legs and with 
this stiffening his butt was presented upwards and it was as if he 
was deliberately opening himself up to the knife. 

I slipped my right hand under his legs and felt his prick. It was as 
stiff as it could get. I grasped it and gave him a couple of jerks. 
He had one of those pointed pricks where the head is small and 
arrow-shaped. Then, with my left hand I pulled his balls outward and 
upward as far as I could. This pulls the prick to face directly 
downwards. With my right hand I pull the knife from my belt.

The other bound slaves can see me do this and you can see the 
quickening of the fear and anticipation in each of their faces.  
Their eyes above their gagged mouths widen. The Hungarian beneath me 
was breathing heavily.

'Ready?' I said to him and I could hear him gasp and hold his breath 
as his legs stiffened further.

The youth's two balls are at the end of the sac, tight against the 
skin. It is an easy matter to take the knife, put the very sharp tip 
of it against the skin just above one ball, then cut downwards 
around it just as you would do to a fruit. With the first push of 
the knife into his skin, I felt him ejaculate. It comes in muscles 
and the muscles of the thighs and the butt involuntarily contract. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his white semen spray the 
hard clay between his legs. 

He was crying out in spite of himself, but the gag reduced his noise 
to a few hitch pitched whimpers.

I eased the gray-pink mass of his ball through the skin. Then as it 
hung there glistening in the light, I neatly clipped the tube that 
held it to his body so that it joined the scattered spots of his 
semen in the dirt. The second ball is always a little harder because 
everything is a little slippery with blood. You have to grip 
everything tighter as you do that second slit. 

With that second slit and the renewal of pain the Hungarian youth 
spasmed and shook the hitching bar.  He was half cut now and in a 
moment, he would be ball-less. I squeezed that second ball through 
the slit in his sac, let it hang there for an instant before cutting 
the cord and letting it fall to the ground. 

I had now finished him. His empty ball-sac hung as a flap of skin 
between his legs. He hurt now and I'd taken his pride from him 
forever, but he'd heal and in his new role he would serve his new 
master well.

When I caught John's eye, he just nodded at me. He approved of my 
skill. So many of those men who profess to be able to geld slaves 
are no more than glorified butchers. John had always told me that I 
was one of the best and quickest he'd seen. And possibly more 
important to him was the fact that the slaves I cut seldom got 
infected and died. The money motive was everything for John and his 
master.

The younger Hungarian was looking at me with wide-eyed fear. First 
though, I rinsed my knife and hands in the salty water, wiping 
myself on my apron, before I moved along to stand behind. He was 
tugging and pulling at his bonds while his young ball-sac flapped 
between his slim legs.  I reached under him and grasped his prick 
which had been thrusting into the nothingness of the air. 
Soft-skinned, it was thick for his age. I pulled him a few times 
there but my action did not stop his flailing. The other Hungarian 
had just slumped with his head hung low, only his breathing to show 
that he lived. The boy in front of me, in contrast, was a frenzy of 
activity within the very narrow confine of his bonds. His thighs 
tensed and relaxed. I could see his arm muscles strain against the 
rope. His head turned and shook.

Words were useless because he would not hear them. I grasped his 
balls and pulled them down then out hard. The sudden pain gained his 
attention. 

'Still, boy,' I said. 

The sac was young looking and there were only a few hairs on it. His 
small asshole above it was squeezed tight. I held it firnly in my 
hand and I had just rested the tip of my knife against the skin when 
somehow all his struggling had managed to loosen the stake that held 
his right leg for all of a sudden it was free. I stepped back as the 
boy continued to flail with his one loose leg. It only took a moment 
to repair. One of my slaves grabbed that leg and the other hammered 
in the stake again firmly. Finally he was fixed again stuill 
struggling. I moved in again behind him.

'That didn't do you much good,' I said as I grasped his balls and 
pulled on them hard, perhaps harder than usual. Then I nutted him 
slowly, perhaps to punish him. He spurted when his first ball popped 
through the slit I had cut in his sac, the white seed hitting the 
ground beneath him. 

Then he too was done, stilled now, only a quiver in his hot thighs 
to show that he was still living. His ball-sac had been neatly 
filletted and his two balls lay in the dust.