Short Story XXII

A double post for an otherwise dull Sunday.

*******************************************************************************************************


Mustafo’s shackled ankles are raised, connected high on his cell bars, forcing him to lie supine, bent at the waist. As commanded, he has been ‘boarded’. Yes, his scrotum finds itself wedged between two narrow hinged planks, one atop the other, extending some three feet into the center of the dungeon. The device resembles a giant mousetrap and offers great leverage.

The naked, oddly bound form trembles, listening as his cohort, Virgillio undergoes a thorough anal fucking, sodomized by a relentless machine. He wonders what it feels like, undergoing such humiliation. But then the realization of his own degradation... the ultimate male sacrifice... returns his mind to his own plight.

To be relieved of his precious organs... at the whim of his ruler! She stands above with a confident smirk.

“Your sac will later be opened and your little peanuts snipped. Then you will be branded with the letter ‘C’ on your forehead. Castrates are forbidden to wear anything other than short skirts. I insist on the color pink. And when a woman sees your mark and demands that you lift your frilly garment, you will comply and show yourself.”

The Queen laughs in noting Mustafo’s distant look of panic.

“Think of how much good you will be doing... your life of crime ended. Instead spreading word of my strict rule... my gynecocracy.”

A booted right foot extends to tap the top board. The motion translates to instant pressure, the boards squeezing the testicles wedged between.

“I so much appreciate slow castrations... as I think will you. Having borne these little jewels for a lifetime, why rush to remove? If a man’s going to be emasculated, he may as well have it done in a memorable fashion... don’t you think Mustafo? The catharsis can be quite beneficial.”

“Please your majesty, no. I will get hard for you. And let me instead lick your boots for you. I so much want to please. To obey your every command.”

The boot glides along the upper board towards the area of the pubes, increasing the leverage and therefore the pressure. Mustafo huffs with the encroaching agony.

“Yes, Mustafo, others have described the pain as a dull ache which seems to spread to the entire lower body. Rather overwhelming is it not? Tends to focus the mind.”

The Queen is very much aware that, though Virgillio’s continuous fucking draws attention, Mustafo’s plight, the slow crushing of his balls, also brings heed. Amongst her cadre of miscreants, there will be no doubt as to who is in charge in the Queen’s dungeon. Comportment will change. There will be no dullards, languishing in their cells. All will be alert, eager to serve... eager to please. Penises will be most respectful... or be rendered dysfunctional.

“Please your majesty, I cannot take the pain.”

Mustafo’s plea earns a shift of the booted foot... for a moment. It glides back.

“It is good that you beg. I will therefore go more slowly. The more brave ask that I stand on the board, apply my full weight and end their maleness in mere moments. But for you, Mustafo I will let you revel in your maleness for many more minutes... perhaps an hour. There is no rush... the result will not change. Your final moments as a man will be your most memorable.”

The Queen notes that Mustafo’s composure has returned. So too her boot returns. The renewed pressure brings a grimace.

“At some point, as I slowly increase the weight on my boot, there will come the sound of a slight ‘pop’. Then will come a second. Such is akin to cries of final surrender... the ceasing of all normal testicular function... permanently. At about the same time that your balls concede to my foot, there will come the flow of pain dulling endorphins which will bring mercy, unfortunately. But then will come the mental anguish. Yes the realization of having been altered... by the foot of a governing woman.”

The Queen turns to her guards as a right foot continuously presses.

“Can you find something to prop up his head. I want him to better watch.”