22 June, 2001

Disciples of Semiramis
Katharsis Dot Net
P O Box 730041 Mainland
Ormond Beach FL  32173-0041

Dear Joan,

It was great seeing you last week. Yes, I have attended some rather interesting castrations recently, and it would be my pleasure to tell you about them to share with your readers.


One of the most entertaining castrations I was able to witness did not involve any tool or implement. Biting off testicles as a method of castration is well established, but the particular one that I saw was designed for spectator enjoyment.

You know we have Chippendale's-like shows every Tuesday afternoon -- except our muscle hunks do more than just dance. We have fights and whipping sessions and other fun things -- where males punish each other for our entertainment. Fun, fun, fun.

Last Tuesday, two naked male hunka-hunks were paraded before the crowd. They were to wrestle, the winner earning the right to castrate the loser. They were almost identical to look at -- tall, smooth and tanned -- except one was blond and the other had black hair. Their muscled bodies were well developed, not over-built like some that I have seen.

The match was over quite quickly, but then that was not the main event. I rather think that it was fixed, anyway. Well the loser, the blond, knelt at his vanquisher's feet and in a shaky, but clear voice, he asked to be castrated because as a loser he

"did not deserve the honor of being called a man".
There were a lot of hoots at that word -- man. We normally don't call our males "men" even when they have their balls. Some of us call our males "boys". Some call them "dings" -- like in an old sci-fi fem-dom TV series -- I think they got that word from German -- eine dinge -- a thing. At least one member of our group calls her males "shit" and another calls her males "piss-pots" because that's what she uses them for.

I noticed both winner and loser were sporting erections -- I can maybe understand the winner, but the loser ... can anyone understand males? They get off on humiliation and being punished and even mutilated -- as long as it's for women. I don't understand it, but I love it.

The winner pulled the loser to his feet as we hooted and applauded. Then he nodded and the loser did a handstand. The winner stepped behind him and lifted him by his waist. The winner moved the loser to a comfortable position such that his testicles were against the winner's mouth.

The loser wrapped his arms behind him around the winner's thighs. The winner pulled one hand around the loser's waist to get a good hold. He raised his other hand and took hold of the loser's throbbing penis. At the same time as he started to stroke the loser's penis, the winner sucked the losers testicles inside his mouth and started chewing them.

Now it was a race against time. Would the winner castrate the loser before he had a chance of a final orgasm? We all watched in rapt silence as the winner's hand pumped up and down and his teeth ground side to side, cutting their way through the loser's gonads.

The loser was making weird noises, part cries of pain from the attack to his genitals, part moans of the pleasure his penis was experiencing.

In this case, the end was a draw. The loser's penis erupted in a torrent of semen which spurted high in the air only seconds before the winner raised his head and showed us the two severed gonads in his blood streaked mouth.

We applauded and wolf-whistled ecstatically, breaking our silence -- most "unlady like." -- But, then, who ever said we were "ladies." Not prim and proper ones, at least.

As is customary, the winner's owner allowed him to eat the loser's testes. Then he drank some of the blood, his mouth helping to stem the flow. Unfortunately the pain made the castrate lose control for a second or so and his rectum emptied under the winner's chin.

We all laughed. This did not bother the winner at all; he just grinned. Then he walked around the arena, still holding his prize whose soft penis dribbled urine onto the sand. We applauded and whistled and made some obscenely suggestive gestures -- it's all part of the fun.

Then he lowered the loser to the ground. We got quiet so we could hear the loser, his voice even shakier than before, thank the winner for castrating him.

The loser kissed the winner's feet, and licked up his legs. When he reached the winner's genitals, he begged to be allowed to bathe them. The winner agreed, and the loser's greedy mouth enveloped the winner's scrotum.

The winner moaned with pleasure, tweaking his nipples, his firm young buttocks quivering with delight. He grabbed the loser's head and forced his member into the loser's mouth. Seconds later he tensed and with a roar he ejaculated. The loser once again thanked his victor.

Like the woman on the radio says, there's nothing hotter than watching two athletic young guys "service" each other. We all love it and most of our Tuesday shows have some of it.

Then our enforcers -- 350 pound seven foot black giants, all hard muscled with pecs bigger than most males' butts -- our enforcers grabbed both males and gave them a whipping for their PDA. We might love to watch it, but we have to punish the males for having fun with each other, even if it is for our entertainment. It's important to punish males whenever they have fun.


Self castration can be visually stimulating. I saw one such even last year. The young slave had been caught masturbating. Some owners don't let their males masturbate except when ordered to do so. It was a farm where males were milked in a machine six times a day, but a bank of milking machines was out of order and males were getting milked only once or twice a day. Accustomed to being milked six times a day, this male couldn't help himself. I sort of felt sorry for him, but an example had to be made, lest other males do the same thing.

The young male was spectacularly well hung -- a good fourteen inches long when he came, only semi hard. I don't think he could get it all the way hard -- I've heard that size of a cock can't get hard without making the guy pass out from all the blood diverted there. In any case, it was as thick as a young boy's wrist and only half-circumcised, and when the slave stimulated himself to an erection for his final orgasm, the head protruded through the partial foreskin and gleamed a deep burgundy-red.

The slave's equally impressive gonads were nested in a hairless sack which hung low between his muscular thighs. It was truly a shame that such a specimen had to lose his prize and he would not be able to contribute to the farm's facial-cream production, but he could still pull a plow, plant, hoe, grub, and do other farm work. Rules are rules, and breaking them is bad for discipline.

Here, the slave is allowed to redeem himself by castrating himself. Otherwise, he not only loses his gonads, but he also loses his cock. Non-milking males are allowed to masturbate and even fuck each other -- under female supervision, of course. So there is a true incentive for the slave to do the cutting himself. Many of the farms around here practice this form of discipline because it has proved effective.

At this particular slave farm, the method of self-castration is especially appealing. It is not just the slicing off of scrotum, as they do in some places. Here the slave must suffer for his misdemeanor.

Here's what happened the time I was there. He walked around the small ring, holding his balls down in their sac and offering them to all the women here to touch, fondle, squeeze, slap, or punch. I gave them a good squeeze -- with both hands, squishing as hard as I could, clawing my finger-tips into the hard balls, making him gasp and squirm in pain. A couple other women here to witness the event also squeezed them -- so hard it made not only his ball sac turn purple-red but made his chest turn red too.

When all the women got a turn at making his balls ache, the young male stood against the castration post. This device was then raised so that the rounded end entered his anus. He gasped as his rectum was filled with the five inch post, and was forced to stand on tiptoes when the end pushed against his colon. The height had been preset, and the slave's testicles each rested on one sloping side of a triangular block which was fitted to the front of the post.

I have to tell you, the young man's gonads were very attractively displayed like this. Male genitals can be disgusting looking or they can be beautiful, depending on many factors, not the least of which is the muscularity and physical beauty of the male they're attached to. This male's genitals looked like a plump still life sculpture -- sort of like fruit in a bowl -- full, plump, round, almost artificial in their perfection.

With the strain he was under in his bowels and otherwise, the male dripped with sweat. And the droplets slid down the glossy skin, hanging under each gonad, growing to a glistening diamond before dropping off, just to start again. It was mesmerizing watching this for the nonce. I thought it was a shame to destroy this beauty, but, as I said, it had to be done.

But there was more to the show than just his strained and sweating body and his self castration. The slave stroked his hardening member, tweaking his nipple with the other hand, giving us a masturbation show. He forced himself lower onto the post, grunting with the effort, so that his feet were flat to the ground. His masturbatory actions became faster, his body was tense as he concentrated on achieving the very best orgasm possible, maybe hoping that such a show would make his owner change her mind and let him keep his balls and go back to being a milking-male.

The slave's legs trembled, his abdomen and buttocks quivered. His toes curled and uncurled. He moaned softly, the sounds increasing in volume as his hand gained speed. Suddenly he went rigid, he cried out and his seed gushed out to land several feet in front of him.

He pumped slowly, milking the contents of his scrotum for the very last time. When he had relaxed, the final traces of semen dribbling out of the end of his softening penis, the slave took the knife offered to him by the guard.

He closed his eyes, sighed and composed himself. He opened his eyes and in a booming voice delivered his rehearsed speech.

"I apologize to my owners and to those who so thoughtfully have tried to help me in my service. Especially to my mistress and to her managers who have punished me often, trying to help me learn how to be a proper milking-slave. I did not appreciate their efforts which, had I been more attentive, would have saved me from my current fate.
Xxxx"I also apologize to the guards who also tried to help me to become the best milking-slave I could be. I was pig headed and did not learn. I was a worthless member of the work-force and cheated my mistress of my milk and now am suffering for my transgressions.
Xxxx"I also address my fellow milking-slaves who have been selected to witness this punishment so they can tell the others. I tell you, never touch your organ. It is not yours; the milk it produces is not yours. Both belong to the mistress. She owns your bodies and all they produce. You exist only for her pleasure, for her use. Work hard, take the punishments that are given and thank your mistresses for them. Concentrate your mind on your mistress' glory, especially when you are being milked. Remember the pleasure you get from the milking is given you by the mistress. She can make milking a painful punishment as well, so be diligent and give her all the milk you can possibly produce.
Xxxx"Now I am ready."
His hand shook as he held the knife out to all of us then to his mistress. He waited, probably hoping she would reprieve him. But that would be bad for discipline so there was no reprieve.

The milking-male placed the serrated blade against the top of the triangular block. He took a deep breath and pushed down. There was some bleeding, not much. He pulled the scrotum skin taut with his free hand, and sawed through the top. He was sobbing, and was unable to stifle his screams as the knife cut the scrotum open.

When the slit was large enough, the slave peeled it back and pulled out his right testicle. He then pulled out the left testicle. He was shaking and biting his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin. The two testicles, each resting on one side of the block, twisting on their cords as though they knew their end was imminent.

The slave lifted the left testicle and pulled it upwards so that the spermatic cord was stretched tight. This must have been very painful because he was screaming as he did it. He sawed through the cord very close to his crotch, until the testicle was severed.

While the male held his dripping gonad up to a round of applause, a guard cauterized the wound with an electric soldering iron as the male put his testicle in a silver bowel. The male then took a deep breath and swallowed hard, his Adam's apple diving deep into his throat before bobbing out again. Then he repeated the whole act, step by step, and cut off the second testicle. And again the wound was sealed.

Finally, the slave had to cut off his scrotum, leaving just sufficient skin for the surgeon to sew closed. His testicles and scrotum were passed around for us to look and touch, if we wanted. One woman picked one testicle up and licked it, opening her mouth and pretending to drop it down her throat.

The closing of the wound was performed with the male still at the post. When it was finished, the area disinfected and the slave had received the requisite shots, the post was lowered and the slave walked rather unsteadily around to show us the results of his operation. He winced as some of the women toyed with the wound, but he made no other sound.

The owner told me since the male was no longer a milking-slave, he wasn't that much use to her and offered him to me as a remembrance. I would have rather taken him before he had gelded himself, but he was a spectacular specimen any way, and there is no way he can now impregnate me. And I am pleased to report that although his ejaculate was clear and seedless, he could still ejaculate and his extraordinarily large cock, though never as hard as my other males' members, was still very filling and satisfying.

Without his balls, though, the male started to soften and lost his spectacular athletic build. I have no use for soft males no matter how big their cocks, so I sold him last month to a meat-packing plant. Castrates do have sweeter meat than intact males.


The removal of the complete genitalia, as practiced at some locations, can be rather interesting. In one place the woman who performs the castration has perfected a technique for modifying the rectum and urethra. She performs the procedure without anesthetic, naturally, so it is quite entertaining.

For a few days prior to the operation she inserts a manipulative tube into the male's bladder, through the urethra, and another into his rectum. The tubes are changed daily. The slave is strapped to the table and his shaved genital area is swabbed. His legs are pulled apart and strapped into stirrups to give the surgeon unrestricted access to the target zone -- especially amusing for women since most of us have had our feet up in stirrups up for some male gynecologist.

If the slave is lucky, one of the attendants will masturbate him for the last time. This is not always the case, and many a slave has lost his manhood with his testes bursting with semen. I have heard that these slaves make excellent fuck-buddies as their innate drive for satisfaction can never be quenched and they get hard and stay hard at the least stimulation.

The incision is made around the base of the scrotum, around the penis and then a slit is made under the urethra as far as the anus. The screams of the slave as this is going on is most amusing -- both for the medical team who clearly enjoy their work, and for those of us lucky enough to spectate.

The penis is severed at the base and the testes are removed. A sterile tube made of a very advanced, supple plastic is inserted into the slave's bladder, along the urethra and into the side of the rectum, just inside the anus. The castration wound is then completely closed and the urethra is sewn up.

The tube gradually dissolves over a week or so, leaving its shape in the urethra. The final result, and I have been fortunate enough to have a couple of slaves who had undergone the procedure, is inspired. The anus leads into two orifices, the rectum and the urethra.

The male learns to clench his anal sphincter a little tighter than before the operation as he now has to hold in urine as well as a watery shit.

Again, the male will lose his muscularity. For some, this is OK; others will want to administer testosterone to keep the male toned and fit, though unable to function sexually -- at least as a male. I myself would send such a male to a meat factory because he is no longer worth keeping. But, then, that is me.

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Thank you for giving me the chance to share my experiences with your readers. I hope we can meet again soon. Meanwhile, I am off to a slave farm which castrates errant slaves by dissolving their genitals in acid. That sounds like a lot of fun. I shall be sure to write and tell you about it.

Until then, sincerely,