Castration Without Representation


Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2010 - MARGARET B - Used by permission

Storycodes: FM/m; bond; dungeon; susp; gag; bands; cbt; mast; cons/nc; XX

“I am afraid they are cleaning up the dungeon and you will need to wait in here for about fifteen minutes.  Nothing serious, it was just one of those things that happen when people get together.  I’ll hook you up here and be back in a minute.  The man across from you is having a procedure, but you should be out well before that starts.”

The man across the room from Mark was naked, gagged, and hanging by his wrists with the balls of his feet barely touching the floor, and his ankles spread wide apart. Drops of blood oozed out from his poorly freshly shaved privates. He had a fearful and odd expression as though he were about to meet his maker.  Mark was still in his street clothes, but he was gagged and bound in a similar manner.  Mark had come to the dungeon classified as an observer, which even that limited interaction cost him $100.  He had been interested in BDSM and more M than anything else for most of his life.  Looking at the man stretched to the breaking point, he wondered what procedure he was there for, if he could watch, and if he would like it himself.

Hanging in a position that became more uncomfortable by the minute for over an hour, he thought, “They don’t give very good service here.”  Then a young woman came in wearing some odd white nylon garment that resembled tights and leotard combined, but was very thin.  She may as well have been nude for all the modesty it provided. Her five inch white stiletto heels gave her legs a sexy appearance with the gleam of light bouncing off calf, thigh, and ass.  She pulled the stainless steel cart through the doorway behind her while Mark forced a grin through the gag. Turning toward him her large breasts pushed her rock hard nipples through the thin fabric.  Her sexy smile suddenly turned to a puzzled looked.

“No one’s done a thing to prepare you for your procedure!  I’ll need to talk to the dungeon supervisor about this.  Last week when I screwed up, that damn quack put me through hell!  Believe me, I like the touch of women, but being strung up cathed and tortured by that bitch dike was nothing I want to go through again.  I woke up with sweat pouring off my body and screaming at the top of my lungs for three nights in a row.  Who ever fucked this up better get that dike bitch or better yet, me.  Somebody is going to pay and pay big time!  But don’t you worry about it, I have a pair of shears and a dull razor that should work, but it will put us behind.”


Pulling off his shoes and socks she began cutting his pants off in six inch strokes from ankles to waist.  She must have thought he was the other guy and was stripping him naked!  Couldn’t she just turn around and see the guy naked with his shaved pelvic?  What the hell was this procedure? Two minutes later, Mark’s clothes lay in rags on the floor.  She shaved his privates clean with a nick here or there then washed everything in alcohol.  She placed the rags in a bag under her cart and pushed it up in front of him. The three groups of materials on top of the cart formed an obvious pattern.

A dozen heavy rubber bands were in the first area, followed by a packaged sterile razor sharp scalpel.  The third area contained tubes of medicine, bandages, and tape.  Mark stared at the items laid out on the cart unable to accept what they were to be use for.  Finally, he realized he was being prepped for castration.  Hell, why couldn’t she turn around and see the other guy?

As she walked out with a wiggle in her ass, she turned pointing to the other guy.  “They did him!  Why didn’t they do you?  I hope who ever fucked this up goes through hell.  Dumb bitches, slack in their work, should have their toe nails pulled out one a day while drinking their own piss, and being violated by everything on two legs.  You can be assured that this will be reported and someone will pay dearly.”

Mark hung there gagged and helpless looking at the ceiling, then the guy across the room, then closing his eyes anything was better then the cart and the materials on it and what they might mean.  Finally after another half hour, a man in a white coat walked in.

“Ready for the procedure, I hope.  Got lots of work and can’t wait around all day.  I was a real doctor once, you know?  Oh, hell she didn’t even put the bands on!  Can’t that dumb bitch do anything right?  This time when I report her they better give her more than 12 hours.  I mean hell; you can’t train a dog in 12 hours.  Three days I said!  Well, she better get a week in hell this time!  I’ll drop by and fuck her good myself.  I know things about horrible pain that most people can’t imagine.  She will be lucky if she can walk to the can three days after I am done with her.”

The former doctor pulled on sterile blue gloves then lifted Mark’s scrotum up and away from his body.  He began to wrap the bands around the scrotum where it meets the penis.  The first three wraps were only doubled bands, but then he stretched and tripled the bands and finally, he put two layers of four wraps around. Mark closed his eyes and his breathing became labored as the biting pain cut into his scrotum and the precious testicles it encased.  Cock and ball torture is generally a temporary teasing activity.  This social, sexual, and emotional disfigurement would be permanent.

“Now, this method will only hurt for an hour or so and it keeps the bleeding to a minimum.  It’s a shame your Mistress wants you castrated; you have such a nice set of testicles with a well formed penis.  But, I just do the cutting!  All these new insurance programs and law suits.  I lost my license, career, and life five years ago.  Patching up some and cutting up others pays the bills. I really think on an hour for hour basis, I make almost the same, after malpractice insurance and taxes.  I’m paid under the table; ex-wife and the IRS don’t know anything about it.  I will be back in two hours to complete the procedure.  Sorry about this, but a guy’s got to eat.  If I didn’t do it, they would find somebody else to cut them off who might never have been a doctor.  See, things could be worse!”

The pain from the bands slowly turned to a tolerable ache as Mark began to accept what was happening.  An hour or two of crying and he was out of tears, realizing that he no longer felt the presence of his balls.  He became convinced that even if they freed him and his scrotum, the damage would leave him impotent at best.  He started to think of what being sexless, neither male nor female would mean and how he could cope.  No sexual contact or interest in sex with women, men or even himself.  He even thought he might live longer although in a state of misery and humiliation.

After this a woman walked in, she was black, naked, and rather sexy, she looked first at him then the other guy.  Walking over to Mark she squeezed his balls kissing him on the cheek with a look that said “poor asshole”.  Then with a smile on her face turned about and released the other guy dragging him and all Mark’s hope out the door.  Ten maybe fifteen minutes later the doctor returned.

“I normally don’t  do this, but you have or had such a nice example of male sexual organs that I thought it would be a kind gesture to give you one last ejaculation. So, I am putting the condom on your penis, I think I will use two.  Now, I am masturbating your cock to erection.  Your penis is so nice, large, and firm, the last erection and ejaculation you will ever have.  A few more strokes and there she blows!  I know you would enjoy a woman’s touch a lot more, but tough shit!  I’ll pull the condom off and wash your penis clean.  Now, I’ll make a small incision in the scrotum tissue and the balls should just pop out. Then snip once and snip twice and they will be gone.”

Just before the incision a rather angry woman burst in.

“Where is that asshole husband of mine? I want to watch him lose his balls! Cutting his balls off is the greatest idea I ever had to stop his cheating.  I don’t want to miss a second of his unusual pain and suffering.”

“Well, here he is!  I was just about to make the incision and remove the testicles.”

“That piss poor thing is not my husband!  Where is the son of a bitch?”

Well, Mark still has his testicles, although he claims they don’t work nearly as well as before.  The pain when the bands were removed was more than he could handle, passing out twice.  While he in great discomfort, the dungeon supervisor apologized and then asked if he wished it had been completed.  Even though Mark was given a year's free pass, he never returned.  By the way, most of them don’t.


I don’t really understand!  Women have been having hysterectomies for years.  Do they complain?  Removing a male's reproductive organs in a comfortable manner should not be a problem.  After all most men over forty make no productive use of them anyway! 

Really, are they beneficial for society?
Many males appear to be far more productive after having them removed.
Wouldn’t you be better off without yours?    

Please tell me why they are so important.


Write: [email protected]

And to help me sort through all my emails, please put the word “CLIP” in the subject line.   


You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum