Short story XXIX

Been having internet problems. But the writing continues.
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“It’s a fiendishly clever torture, is it not? There is not only the physical pain and duress, but the psychological side. Men are not accustomed to being impaled, for the most part. But then again, it is probably best that you no longer consider yourself male.”

The inmate stands on a small stool. His wrists, shackled as always behind his back, are secured above, hooked to a cable emanating from a ceiling hook. He is thus stooped at the waist. Strappado is the common term for the age old torture.

Yet it is not strappado that most aggravates. Before the inmate and behind are vertical poles. Attached are dildos, able to be raised or lowered according to height, accommodating inmates both tall and short.

Kendra has casually placed her prospective ‘patient’ between the poles, and in standard procedure, penetrated both the oral and anal openings with the stout, firm lengths of rubber.

“When I perform a final alteration, I prefer a man request the attention of my castrating hands. It comforts to hear a man beg to lose his precious testicles. Matter of fact, it more than comforts, it makes me giddy with happiness. And you’re to have a new role in life... making women happy.”

The inmate cannot respond, mouth filled with rubber... throat stuffed to the point that the he must suppress the gag reflex. And of course there is equal aggravation felt between his cheeks. Though Kendra graciously lubricated, the sizable dildo is intended to bring both pain and a sense of vulnerability... and it is effective.

“So when you’re ready to beg, you will blink twice. After that I will release you and we’ll have a little talk. I like to hear the humble request, your final words as an intact male. Then I will snip away, brand you and have you in a nice pink skirt ready to face your new life. Think of the freedom you’ll have. No more shackles.”

Kendra reaches beneath. The fingers of right hand and left gently knead and diddle the nipples. The touch of her fingers is amazing sensuous considering... considering the procedure such will soon perform.

“Until then you’ll ride for me. The record interval is nearly an hour. I suggest you not try to break it.”

Kendra laughs sensing the nipples harden in response. The inmate curses his involuntary reaction.

“These little nubs will become quite the erogenous zone for you, my soon to be neutered friend.”

The eyes water. Tears begin to form as the inmate mentally confronts his fate.

“Oh, now don’t cry. Your balls are useless to you and must be removed. It must be quite humiliating to have lost them to a woman’s foot. Yet, there should be a degree of pride. After all, it was the foot of the monarchy. If one must be emasculated, it may as well be done by a royal boot.”

Kendra laughs with the maudlin look.

“And you’ll have some special jewelry to wear.”

Kendra turns. From the nearby tray, the tools of castration awaiting, she retrieves a circular disk of bronze.

“Etched with the Royal seal to obviate tampering. On the other side your name, your crime, the date of your castration... to be displayed to all. A bell will be attached to announce your presence. And it will hang from where those crushed testicles now hang. It is the Queen’s mandate. Evidence of your neutering will forever dangle between your thighs, attached to your empty scrotum.”

Kendra steps to the rear. Her free hand palms where she will soon incise. Where once indeed dangled manly plums, there is now found a mass of jello, incarnadine with the trauma of a royal boot. Yes, the inmate was boarded, his testicles slowly squeezed until they popped, bringing much mirth to the Queen and cries of intense agony from the emasculated. As required, the useless organs must be removed... but not until there is final concession, words comprising the most ignominious request.

Kendra’s thumb and forefinger squeeze, normally inducing a reaction of pain. Instead there is not even a quiver, the boarding having crushed the nerves along with vessels and semen ducts. The inmate is no longer a functioning male. But under the Queen’s mandate, he must present himself as such as well, the scrotal sac emptied. Yes, the branding iron heats. Keloided flesh of the forehead forming the letter ‘C’ will announce his status... the pink skirt to be raised at the simple request of any female... the belled disk to hang within view of all... its chiming to proclaim the status of the bearer... his crime never to be denied... his obvious punishment a deterrent for all.

The hand glides forward. Kendra smiles in noting that the penis is somewhat firm, the dildo spurring the curious reaction despite the trauma of emasculation and the stress of strappado and impalement.

“You’re becoming stiff for me. How considerate of you to display your last erection. I like castrating erect men. Blink for me and I’ll have it standing like never before... and never again.”

Kendra laughs and returns to the tray.

“Remember, blink twice and then I will snip.”

With that, the inmate, having somewhat acclimated to the dual penetration, is appalled when Kendra steps to his side and her foot slowly pushes the stool out from under the shackled ankles. The feet begin to frantically search for the floor, yet the surface is not to be found. The inmate’s form shifts, to be born orally and anally, the impaling dildos bearing his entire weight. As the strappadoed arms labor to relieve the stress, there comes a throaty, indiscernible wail of distress as Kendra laughs.

“I believe you will find it is best to remain perfectly still. And even better still if you blink.”

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“Fifteen minutes is not too bad, my emasculated friend. But you could have gone longer if you had not so frantically kept searching for the floor with your feet.”

A smiling Kendra, having noted the exaggerated double blink, graciously works a lever to slide away the front pole. The mouth dildo slips away. The inmate, feet returned to the small stool, senses the relative relief. There are stifled sighs of gratitude, tears now of joy streaming down his cheeks.

Yes, he is to endure castration. But there will come the end of the inexorable pain. Only a life of humiliation will follow.

The dildo exits, glinting in the room light with a coating of saliva.

“Now you will offer the words. But first let me give you some of my experience in castrating men.”

Kendra steps most proximate and gently brushes the inmate’s hair then kneads the right ear. It brings strange comfort.

“You will never forget this. And never forget me. And I like that. It empowers... and exhilarates. And I want to be sure you understand that. Those useless little nuts will join my collection. And you will feel great relief.”

The head nods, words not easily found.

“After I empty your sac, you will find yourself lethargic. There will come mental changes... confusion. You will develop a need for guidance... like a kitten in need of a protective mother cat. You will constantly seek... but you will know not for what. And there will come a curious need to talk to me, your castratrix. I have so many that approach me like abandoned puppies. And there will be times when you will desire the pain you have so diligently tried to avoid. In lacking the ability to climax, forever robbed of the ultimate male pleasure... pillaged by a woman’s hand... you will seek catharsis. Most favor a good caning... to the buttocks... to the feet. And if you choose to visit... and you will... I will accommodate.”

Kendra smiles noting the slight nod of understanding.

“Yes, we will bond, you and me... castratrix and castrate. There will come this sense of loss... and a need for counsel... to converse... with the woman who forever altered you. Yes, psychologically you will convince yourself that I have the power to return your masculinity.”

Kendra gently laughs, her kindliness enjoyingly ironic, offered before the quick incisions and snips which will end all maleness. She is superior. And the inmate knows it. She has the power of great will, plundering the scrotal sac as one would harvest fruit. Mere moments of her time will forever bring change.

“Just think of your new existence, my emasculated friend. You’re going to become wonderfully plump. Without your balls soft layers of feminine fatness will develop. The silk skirt we’ll dress you in will begin to feel most welcomed. A desire for other fine garments will grow. Smooth, soft, gaily colored... you’ll learn to relish the feel.”

Kendra’s discourse is accompanied with soothing strokes of her hands. She playfully taps the nose.

“So let me hear the words now. With a courteous request we’ll have those nasty male organs gone forever.”

There comes a pause. Kendra again reaches beneath. Right nipple and left are once again caressed. The inmate relents. He has no control... no basis for further resistance.

“Please, Miss Kendra. I need to be released. Would you please take them?”

“Take what? Be very specific.”

“Would you please snip.”

“You mean you would like to be castrated. Be very, very clear. Say the words.”

“Miss Kendra, would you please castrate me?”

The hands retreat. The smile glows. There is a moment of quiet glee. Then the pole is slowly pushed back into position, the dildo again introduced to the lips and mouth.

“Yes. But I’d like to see you ride just a little longer...”