Mark Andrews
the Business of Slavery

I think I have combined business with pleasure very well. I like men. Yes, I really do. But only when they do as I say. Men as superior or even equal beings do not interest me one bit. And I really enjoy taming them. I always take the rambunctious ones. Good quality, well-muscled athletes, surfers and the like. I don't want wimps. It's no fun taming a man who is already tame.

It usually takes only a few months to break a man and then turn him into a compliant slave, ready to serve his new master or mistress. I'm not particular who I sell them to as long as it's out of the country and to an owner who is not likely to let them escape; and also as long as I make a good profit.

There's good money to be had in slaving. I only pick the best males to start with and when I've finished with them they're even better. Excellent skin and muscle tone, good-looking of course; and most important of all, totally obedient, ready and willing to do anything their new owner demands of them.

Most of them I castrate. You are shocked? You might be even more so when I tell you I take it all off. Everything. Their cock as well as their balls. I'm known for my specialty of totally castrated young males and I have a ready market for them. You'd be surprised how many women want a castrate. They can still use them for sex. Their tongues and lips are well trained to serve instead of a hard cock and we always supply a double-ended dildo with every male sold to a woman. Fucking their ass-holes is a delight for most of my female clients.

And my male clients are just as ecstatic about it for the most part. Of course some want a boy to fuck them and in these cases I leave their cocks intact. Their balls go. Very few clients want a boy with testicles and some actually want their cocks modified so they are permanently hard. It's an easy enough operation once you know how. This way they're always ready to serve their master, or mistress if the female client actually want a male so modified.

Castrated males are still quite a novelty and showing off one of mine is a pleasure my customers relish a great deal. In many of the countries where my boys go, they can be made to work out in the public eye quite naked, as long as their genitals have been removed and some even use them as steeds to pull them around the streets. More's the pity I can't do that here but I do train them to trot and gallop for long hours around the tracks I have made them cut through the scrub in and around my nicely isolated slave farm so they are ready for it if that is their owner's pleasure.

Perhaps you might like to accompany me and my ladies on a raid. It's time for a new season to start. We've had our winter break and have come back refreshed for another term. First we have to bring them in. We each take just one boy from a different city each time and we are careful to cover our tracks as we bring them in.

There are ten of us ladies and we will take ten boys. I get half the proceeds of the sale at the end of the season. The ladies divide up the remainder. We're all doing very nicely out of it.

I'm not going to tell which cities we have chosen this time. Suffice to say each is big enough so that the boys' disappearance will not cause more than a momentary stir. The beach is a good place to start. You can get a good idea of a young man's body there and also his attitude. If he is strutting around, making muscles for the girls, his basket of goodies prominently displayed, it's a very good start. All you have to do then is follow him discreetly and find out who and what he is and whether his fade-out from the scene is going to make too many waves for comfort.

I picked on Stewart. He was tall and very good-looking and his body was really good. Not too muscly. My clients generally don't like the huge muscles of the professional bodybuilders but the more lithe and athletic musculatures of the dedicated sportsman, especially track and field athletes, gymnasts and swimmers. Stewart had an excellent skin, matinee idol looks and a true gymnast's physique: v-shaped torso with rippled belly and broad, slab-like chest; broad, boulder-like shoulders and arm and leg muscles which were so well defined you could run your fingers along them. His waist was slim and his belly flat and his buttocks were so boyishly cheeky I wanted to bend him over my lap and spank them there and then.

I watched him covertly all that afternoon and followed him as he left the beach with two of the girls who had been admiring him all day. He dropped them off and went to his unit, a middle-of-the-road apartment in an old block. He took one of them out that night and then went back to her apartment where he stayed four hours then emerged at one in the morning. I followed him home and napped in my car until the morning. It turned out he worked as a freelance model and my detective powers soon established he had one appointment that morning, Monday, and none for the rest of the week. Perfect!

I took him on Monday night. I needed a light as he passed my car on the way into his building and as he fished out his lighter, I checked around then jabbed him with one of the needles I keep on hand. It's one of those automatic things. Pre-loaded and as soon as the thing touches the skin, the needle is released and squirts a measured dose into his arm. He dropped without a murmur, right into the back door of my car. It's just as well I and my girls work out for he was pretty heavy and even though I didn't have to drag him far it was still an effort.

That's all there was to it. I drove away and out of town and pulled into a lonely rest stop to gag him and bind him securely before he came to. I also took out his cock and fitted a rubber catheter over it. This ended in a sealed plastic bottle which I set down beside him. I then pushed him down into the floor space between the seats and threw a canvas over him then strewed papers and sample cases over the whole area.

When I got back home, after a two day journey during which I only stopped for gas and eats and taking catnaps as required, two of the others had already arrived and their males were already in the cages. Yes, I did water him on the journey but I didn't let him free at any stage. The cramps would be very bad after a few hours but he was young and fit and he would recover. Anyway, they ensured he was pretty helpless when we arrived.

The two girls greeted me and then opened the back door of the car, throwing aside the props and then dragged the hapless beach boy out.

"Strip him down, girls. Let's see what he looks like nude."
It was routine to them now and it took only a few seconds to get him quite naked. They tore his expensive clothes from him, careless of the buttons and zips. He wouldn't be using them again and this was part of his initiation. He struggled of course, as much as his cramped muscles allowed anyway, and his face was almost purple with fear and anger. That was normal too and I grinned down at him.

We always left their gags in place of course. We didn't want to hear their protests and expostulations.

"Ooooh, Amanda. Isn't he something, eh?"
I smiled. It was true, stark naked his body really was great. I particularly liked the so lean waist and beautifully defined abdominal muscles.
"Not bad... Not bad," I said. "All right, let's get him up to the scaffold for his welcome whipping."
This, I had found, was a very effective introduction for these young males. A short sharp dose of severe pain right at the beginning etched indelibly into their puny brains the message that they were now ours and that we were to be obeyed without question. The effects didn't last all that long of course and we had to keep up the lessons all through their training, but it was an excellent beginning nevertheless.

The girls dragged him over to the scaffold, two sturdy twelve feet high and two feet thick posts surmounted by a twelve foot beam of the same size wood. In the top corners were pulleys and dangling from them, ropes with steel bracelets on the ends. Soon enough he was dangling naked from the ropes, his arms up and out, his toes just touching the grass.

The girls armed themselves with long bullwhips and I took up a heavy rattan cane.

They began. One at the front and one at the back while I stood in front and to one side so I could see his face. He was still gagged as we didn't wish to hear his protests or his screams at this stage. The girls stripped off their blouses, revealing tanned upper bodies as beautifully athletic as his own. All my girls are athletes. I don't want fats or skinnies around me and we all work out every day. Hell we have to. We can't risk the males getting the upper hand on us or escaping...

Not that it's likely mind. The farm is in a near perfect position. It's very isolated at the end of a valley whose sides are so steep as to be incapable of climbing. The farm had been abandoned a long time ago and had become overgrown with bush and trees. The farm house was, for some reason right under the cliffs at the valley's end and the track that led to it wound through the trees. The valley spread out but then narrowed again and the access track passed through a very narrow defile which had been well fenced many years ago, why, I don't know. All we had to do was repair the fence and top it with razor wire and our boys were as secure as in a prison yard. No-one ever went out there. Outside the valley was a near desert with just prickly cactus and low scrub and the nearest highway was a two hours drive. As I said, as perfect a spot as I could have wished.

His eyes rounded as they beheld the naked tits. I grinned. He wouldn't be ogling them for long, not after the lashes began to fall on his body from back and front. The girls worked in unison. Marjory was in front of him. Her brunette hair wafted around her back as she raised the whip over and behind her shoulder and then lashed it forward, drawing it sharply back at the last minute so the tip cracked against his cock.

"Aaaagggghhheeeaaaggghhh," he screamed and even through the gag we could hear it quite plainly.
Then, behind him, my beautiful black trainer, Liz, cracked her bullwhip against his buttocks.

His body was writhing wonderfully now. He was pulling at the steel manacles holding him aloft and his legs were kicking and flailing about as he attempted to cope with the pain of those two lashes.

"Would you like us to remove your gag, slave?" I asked.
He nodded vigorously and I smiled and stepped up to reach up and tear the heavy plaster tape from over his mouth and cheeks.
"Wha.... where.... aaaggghhh..." he moaned and screamed as he stared wildly down at us.

"Shut up," I said unceremoniously. "You are now a slave. My slave. And I am teaching you how to be a good slave."

"Slave...?" he stuttered. "I'm not a slave..."

"Yes you are and to show you that you are, my trainers are now going to whip you again..."

"No! Please. No more whip...?"

"Oh but you must. It's our best teacher. It works almost instantly and gets very good results. Better even than the cane but let me introduce you to this instrument. It can also get good results... Like this!"

And as I said the words, I lashed its tip up between his legs to catch the underside of his heavy balls. His scream this time was even more heart-rending, that is if we had had hearts to be rendered... We didn't.

His body doubled up and I caught my breath as I watched his belly muscles writhing in the agony of the worst pain he had probably ever felt in his life.

We stood and watched as the sweat broke out all over him and his eyes, red now and staring wildly, tried to focus on me, rather unsuccessfully, as his head was now bowed. His chest heaved as he struggled to cope with the pain and he was moaning continuously. Good. A very successful start.

"I think, perhaps ten more strokes of the whip each, ladies...?"
His head shot up.
"No...! Please, no more?"
I smiled and nodded to Marjory who drew her whip back over her shoulder and snapped it forward, to crack against his chest.
"Aaaagggghhheeeaaaggghhh," he screamed again and his body began that wonderful dance once more, its muscles writhing most erotically as we stood and watched as he took the remaining strokes I had ordered.

"I don't think he likes your lessons, Marjory. Well, let him hang there and think about them. If he opens his mouth, lash him again."

I smiled and nodded to her then Liz replaced her blouse and took me over to the cages to show me her and Marjory's acquisitions.

The cages were set up behind the house not far from the scaffold and I had had to curb my impatience to go and inspect the two inmates there while we gave Stewart his 'welcome'. Liz had found a superb black boy, a veritable Adonis if ever I saw one and her eyes lit up as I praised her for her choice. Marjory's boy was an Asian. Thai I suspected and this was later proved to be right. He wasn't as big as the other two but his body was quite perfect.

Each of them stood up in his cage. They measured only five feet high by six feet long and three wide. They were open to the weather and the floor was made of the same steel mesh as the roof and walls. They weren't very comfortable but then comfort for my slaves was the least of my concerns. The harder they had it, the quicker they would learn. At five feet high they couldn't stand up properly and this was particularly so for John, the beautifully muscled black. He had to sort of stoop and this was also by design. Make their accommodations as uncomfortable as I could and they would soon adapt to their new lives. Even Leslie, the Thai boy, had to keep his head bowed but that was better than sitting as the rough-ribbed steel bars from which the cages were constructed was too uncomfortable to sit on. When they laid down to sleep their weight was more evenly distributed and was bearable, just, but sitting with the soft flesh of their buttocks on the rough steel was too unpleasant to bear for long so they had to stand.

Mind, as the other girls arrived and the cages began to fill, they wouldn't be spending much time in them. Their training would occupy the whole hours of light but right now, as we were gearing up for the new season, they had perforce to remain in their cages all day and night.

The two boys stared out at me in fear. They had already had their welcome and had been warned that the slightest sign of rebellion and they would be back on the scaffold for a much larger dose.

I had them out in a trice and we harnessed them into one of the training gigs. These are far heavier than those they might be called on to pull for their owners but are excellent instruments for training.

The harnesses were particularly diabolical. They were comprised of a sturdy metal belt of beaten iron hinged at the front and with adjustable clasps at the back. Dangling from front and back was another piece of iron, this one of round metal. It went down at the front, included a small ring through which we forced their cocks and balls (and then adjusted so they were too tight, bringing on a painful and permanent erection while they were harnessed), further down between their legs and buttocks cheeks where we slipped a large dildo with a ring on the base which allowed it to move along the curved rod and be inserted into their anuses, and thence up to fit over the clasp at the back. It too was adjustable so the rod could be pulled up tight between their legs and buttocks. It was smooth but it would still be very uncomfortable.

The gig had a single pole leading from its axle and this ended in a T-bar with attachments on the ends allowing them to be clipped to the clasp at the back of the slaves' belts. Apart from the head harness which of course had reins leading back to the gig, they were otherwise unfettered although of course they remained stark naked.

I inspected them carefully, running my hands up and down their sleek muscles and ensuring their cocks were as fully erect as I could get them, both poking up proudly from the too tight rings. Liz and I mounted the gig then and I took up the reins and she the whip. I jerked the reins while Liz lashed at their backs with the coach whip. They took off and as always both Liz and I admired the play of muscles on their black and brown bodies respectively. We winked at each other but then began to deride the two boys.

"What wimps," I said. "Puny bodies, aren't they, Liz...?"

"Real weaklings, I'd say, Amanda. Hardly worth the effort of training them, don't you think? Why don't we just terminate them now?"

"I've half a mind to, really. It's a lot of work to turn these horrible little boys into useful slaves and I wonder if these two are going to be worth it. Is the lime pit ready?"

"Yes. I emptied ten sacks into it this morning. All we've got to do is gag and bind them and throw them in. They won't last more than a few days down in there."

"Oh, I don't know. One slave lasted nearly a week. Mind, he was in real agony as the lime burnt into his body but he lasted well."

We did have a lime pit but we had never used it. At least never for real. We showed it to them and told them how agonising a death it would be but that was it. Hell, no matter what we told them, they were far too valuable to waste in such a quick death.

I grinned as I watched the fear in the two boys faces as they turned to each other. Good. Everything going to plan.

The land on the farm is relatively flat but we whipped the two boys to extreme effort until their bodies were a lather of sweat. In fact we whipped them until they dropped. We got down from the gig and came round to kick at their heaving bodies, now crouched down in near exhaustion.

"Wimps!" I said.

"Weaklings," sniffed Liz.

But we winked at each other. Their effort had been pretty good really. We strolled around while they recovered sufficiently to pull us back to the farm but then we set them to another task.
"Strap the nigger down onto the table there, chink," I said harshly.
I have no racial prejudices. In fact, Liz is one of my favourite people and Debby, another Thai girl, is really wonderful. So small and petite but so athletic! This use of racially biased terms was a good way to demean these boys however. It all helped and Liz and Debbie were as likely to use such terms as the white girls.

Leslie jumped to obey. So did John. He lay down on the table to allow the Thai boy to strap his ankles and wrists into the manacles then I handed him a pair of tweezers.

"I want every last hair on his body plucked out, boy. We will be back in an hour. You get one stroke of the whip for every minute over that it takes you to have him totally naked!"
He stared in horror at me for a moment but then rushed to obey, grabbing at large tufts of John's pubic hair and yanking them out viciously while the handsome black yelped and screamed and thrashed around on the table. We grinned to one another and then left to have our lunch.

The slaves were fed once a day. That was enough. They ate raw vegetables mostly and sometimes rice boiled into a horrible soggy unsalted mess. Once a week they had meat. I made them eat it raw. It was tough and stringy but it provided them with the necessary protein.

After lunch we checked up on Leslie's efforts. He had finished but John was a real mess. His skin was bleeding in parts and he was moaning horribly, but he was totally nude. I handed Leslie a jar of ointment and ordered him to smear it all over John's body.

"Do his beard too."
We watched as John now struggled even more. The ointment is very painful as it is acid based and eats right down into the now well-opened follicles, destroying permanently every last hair root. My clients like my slaves to be totally nude and this means all hair removed -- permanently. I had the ointment developed in Bangkok, where the extreme pain its use generates did not excite comment. Just one application is sufficient.

The handsome black boy screamed and moaned and his body writhed in torment on the table while Leslie stared down at him in awe, and terror. He must have known he too was soon going to suffer the same treatment.

We left him there, chained by his ankle to the table leg and went over to the scaffold where Stewart still hung in his own agony.

"Ready to serve me, slaveboy?"

"Oh yes, Lady," he said in a nicely servile voice.

I nodded to Marjory and she and Liz let him down and dragged him to the ground floor area of our house. Upstairs were our quarters. Downstairs we had built various rooms to discipline the slaves. I undressed in one of these and lay back on the bed in one of them while Marjory and Liz fitted the harness around his head and cuffed his ankles together and his hands behind his back. The head harness had a dildo gag which filled his mouth nicely. It also had an external part which was modelled on a nine inch male cock.
"Your task is to fuck me with the dildo, boy. You will keep it up until I say you may stop and the ladies behind you will help you by lashing your buttocks every time you start to flag.
They forced him up onto the bed on his knees and pushed his head down towards my naked quim. Now I told him about his loss of manhood.
"This is the way you will service your mistress in all probability, boy. These ugly appendages are of little use to most of my clients and unless you prove that you are a real expert in using them, we will take them off..."
I reached down and fondled his cock and balls as I spoke and his face, or as much of it as I could see, registered his new horror at my words. He nodded vigorously, obviously trying to tell me he was an expert lover. I grinned. Very few men had the natural ability to satisfy the type of woman who bought my slaves. Most were real nymphos and needed long hours of non-stop sex to satisfy their jaded desires. The human male soon tires unless he is one in a million and so oral sex using one of these masks was usually much more satisfying. So was the sight of a beautifully muscled male without his sex organs.

My friend, Dr Janet Rowbottom, had perfected the art of radical castration of a male. She even removed the root of their cocks: that part of them which was seated deep inside their groin and which provided most of the pubic mound. With it gone, their lower bellies were quite flat and smooth and her stitches were so fine that once they healed, you couldn't even see the marks where once his scrotum and penis had emerged from his body. Of course her services were expensive and some of my clients were happy to have the cheaper method used.

This involved the use of the elastrator, that implement used by farmers to geld their male sheep and cattle. Slipping the immensely strong rubber ring over the male human organs, both cock and balls, causes them to wither and die and eventually to drop off. This leaves a rather ugly stump though and of course the root of his cock, inside his pubis is still intact, leaving a bulge there. It just depends what they wanted and if they are prepared to pay for the more expensive but definitely more pleasing operation, the end result is much more satisfactory.

Of course, by either method, without his balls, he lacks the male hormone testosterone in sufficient quantity to maintain his essential maleness and we supply them with suppositories: very large, cigar-shaped items made especially for me which provide a slow release through his rectal walls. They hate them but we tell them without them they would soon be simpering pansies and they put up with the daily insertions

Stewart soon found his position rather untenable. Kneeling between my wide open legs with his head down at my sex was distinctly uncomfortable and bobbing it up and down at the frenetic pace I demanded soon had him sweating profusely but the girls kept him hard at it, lashing at his fine boyish buttocks with great gusto when he faltered. When I had had enough and gave way to Liz, I took her birch and delighted in lashing at those now nicely striped orbs, and after that, Marjory took her place and Liz resumed her attacks on his flesh. We made him work all afternoon though, until he really did collapse from exhaustion after which we dragged him back to his cage and threw him in.

His two colleagues soon joined him and we left them there for the night to contemplate their new lives.

Over the next few days more of the girls turned up with their captives. Each was given his welcome and each was forcibly plucked and the depilatory smeared all over his body until each was stark naked, even to his beard and moustache. You might wonder that we did this before our clients actually ordered it? I knew from experience all of them would. I have never had a buyer who wanted a boy left with his body hair so there it is...

I now informed them collectively that unless they could prove their virility, each would lose his genitals. I made much of this, apprising them of the methods used by our surgeon and that no anesthetic was ever used during either operation. Each had been told privately, now we made sure each and every one of them was doubly aware that he might very soon lose his manhood. I was lying of course. No matter how virile he was, none would in all likelihood be permitted to keep them. But if it made them more amenable to discipline and training, who cared.

Boy you should see them work after that. At exercises, at sex training, and during those times they were permitted to pleasure our bodies. For that reward, they worked at it full tilt.

Each boy's body improved. No matter how good he was when we brought him in, we made him better. The skin improved with the largely vegetarian diet; the muscles became more toned and much sharper with the four hours of non-stop exercises we pushed them through each day; and their sexual ability with mouths and ass-holes was soon really outstanding.

None of them objected to being fucked by us women with the double-ended dildos strapped on to our loins. Just the sight of the scalpel was enough to make him bare and open his anus and submit to being raped with the thick plastic cock which transmits wonderful vibrations through to our own sex when we fuck them really hard. It takes effort but it's worth it and it really is better than having them fuck us with their useless organs.

Of course we do use them in the more normal way as well. We do genuinely test their virility, sexual stamina and ability and we make notes as to each boy's capabilities. Some were really good and this fact went out with the advertisement for each boy.


After a month I photograph them. By that time they're all markedly improved although my clients know that by the time they get them, they'll be even better. I make them pose and run and bend and flex their muscles in all sorts of poses, then I post the photos on my web site known only to my favoured clients and protected with a series of special passwords.

I always set a reserve and then the bids come in. It's rather like an auction on the Net. A bid comes in and all the others see it although they don't know who it's come from. They can make another offer or withdraw. And this is going on for all ten boys at once. It's a great thrill to sit there at the computer and count up the million plus dollars as the bids keep mounting. Two hundred thousand is not unreal for some of my better boys. John will bring that, I know, and so might Leslie. The one is big and black and handsome and so beautifully muscled while the other is smaller but exquisitely put together.

Already I have been offered $152,000 for John and Leslie's price is well over the $130,000 mark. I have plenty of time though. The offer remains open for a week and the bids will continue to rise up to the cut-off time. Then when I inform him or her of his successful offer, the client transfers the funds to my account electronically and sends his or her instructions as to the boy's modifications. Once I receive confirmation that the money is in my account, we call on Janet to come out and begin her procedures.

I delight in telling the slaves what is to happen to them. The looks on their faces as they hear that all their efforts have been for nothing and that in a day or so, they are going to lose their testicles and their cocks as well, is really comical.

"John: radical castration by surgery. Leslie: testicular castration and penis modification to permanent erection. Stewart: radical castration by elastrator..."
And so it went on. Each boy in his turn slumped as he heard his fate. We kept them in the cages from that moment until Janet arrived, although those who were to be elastrated had it done immediately. It's simple enough. We suspend him on the scaffold and tie his feet out to the bottom corners. Then, depending where the client wants him to urinate, we either insert a metal catheter up his urethra (if they want him to continue to piss out the front), or not (in which case, after a day or so, we punch a hole down between his legs into the urinary tract. This is rather messy for him as he will then have no control over the act of urinating and when he does, it will spray out and run down the inside of his legs. Still, some clients like to really demean their slaveboys and if that's what they want, who am I to gainsay them?

For those with the catheter, they piss continuously out of it, even as their balls and cock are withering away and these we feed large quantities of water to keep the flow going. The others are on a water free diet for twenty-four hours but then we feed them even more liquid until their bladder is full to bursting. We puncture them between the legs and it sprays out in a huge jet. We then feed them gallons of water a day to keep the flow going and the wound clean. Piss is a good disinfectant.

The surgical operations take place in a room we prepared under Janet's direction. It too boasts a scaffold on which to suspend the boy but the room and everything in it is hygienically clean, and kept that way.

The boy is scrubbed from tip to toe -- literally. We make another boy scrub him with a stiff brush and very hot water and disinfectant soap until his skin is almost red raw. He is then taken into the room and spreadeagled into the frame. Janet, suitable capped and gowned and those of us who are assisting in similar dress, are waiting. John is the first and although he despaired when he heard the news, he is now resigned to his fate and does not resist when we fit his wrists and ankles into the manacles and hoist him aloft. There is another belt which goes around his waist and is anchored to the two posts. This stops him moving his middle as Janet cuts into his flesh.

She liberally washes his middle with more disinfectant, dousing his cock and balls with the stuff. Then she is ready. We always ship a boy's genitals with him, suitably preserved in a clear plastic block and so it is necessary that the organs be removed in one piece. She has refined this procedure over the years and it takes only minutes.

John stares down at her hand, now wielding the ultra-sharp scalpel which is about to cut off his cock and balls and leave him a eunuch for the rest of his life. He doesn't say anything though. He is a sensible lad and I know he is going to provide the sheikh who has bought him with many years of pleasure. I can almost see the sheikh plugging those beautiful buttocks with his reputedly enormous tool and I grin as I think of John bouncing up and down on the Arab's supine body while he fingers John's so smooth and naked groin, and his magnificently muscled belly and chest, his black eyes grinning wickedly as the boy's rectum excites his tool to another wonderful orgasm.

Janet begins to cut right down at the base of his cock and Liz is ready with the swabs to keep the wounds clear of excess blood so Janet can use the electronic cauteriser to seal the bleeders as she works.

John screams of course. It is very painful but I have in the space of the last few months, inured them to pain by its constant application to their naked flesh. Canes, whips and paddles are used on each of them every day. Not enough to mar their pristine flesh but sufficient to keep them on their toes.

She is working deep inside his groin now, removing every last piece of his penis. The sheikh doesn't like his slaves to mess his quarters and so John will be allowed to retain control of his urinating functions. He will still piss between his legs as the sheikh likes his boys' lower bellies to be quite smooth, but at least he will not have that dreadfully smelly alternative.

Ah, there it is, the last section of his organ gone and now she slices through his scrotum, keeping it attached to the penile skin for later preservation. The cauteriser works so efficiently. So much better than having to stitch up each blood vessel as they used to.

Now she is stitching the skin together. As always, it is a wonderful job. His velvety black skin is not over stretched; nor is it too loose. When the wounds heal and the stitches come out, he will be as whole and mark free as if he never had a cock or balls. Even if you got down close, you would be hard put to find the marks.

"There. He's done. Do you want to insert his first suppository, Amanda?"
I grinned. I always did this the first time.
"Sure, Janet. Thanks."
I moved up to the boy, now hanging in near exhaustion from the trials of the operation and felt around between his buttocks for his anus. He tried to keep me out and I slapped him, hard.
"Open it up, boy, or we might just split you open there with a scalpel."
He just about shit himself but he opened his ass-hole for the huge brown thing, shaped like a big fat cigar, and I pushed it inside.
"And you'll have one of those every day, boy, so you'd better get used to it."
Janet had finished bandaging his groin now and we let him down to be placed in the recovery room next door.


Leslie was to have his balls removed but was to keep his cock although it was going to be modified. I think I would prefer John's fate, actually for the grotesque results of the operation were really bizarre. He had his balls sliced off first. This is simple enough and took only a few minutes from start to finish. But then she began with the penile modification.

This involves injecting a silicone compound into those vessels in the penis which cause it to harden and erect. They're rather like long narrow balloons and when the blood pumps into them, causes it to swell and lengthen and then harden to its full erectile state. Unfortunately, many men have too little control over this function and this modification gets over this problem. Of course, after it, they can't wear clothes. Their cocks are just too big and too protuberant to allow them to be seen in public, even in the most voluminous and baggy of clothing.

She begins down at the groin. As I've said before, the penis begins deep inside the groin. Achieving an erection stems from the inner tissue being as hard as the external parts and these must be treated first. The syringe used is huge. The barrel a good two inches across and nine inches long and the needle itself very thick to accommodate the viscous nature of the silicone compound.

She inserts it beside his cock root, using her knowledge and skill to find just the right spot, then squeezes the plunger which will inject a few ounces of the stuff into the balloons. Out comes the needle while Leslie alternately screams and cries in his agony. Janet tells me this procedure is even more painful than the cutting of the genitals and I can believe her as I watch the handsome young Thai boy struggling in his bonds.

She pushes it in on the other side and squeezes more of the stuff into his cock root then does the same thing from the top. From then on, she moves further down the penis, ensuring each balloon is inflated to its capacity. As she works we can see the organ beginning to get bigger and harder. The silicone is quick acting and hardens as soon as it comes into contact with the body tissue in which it is now imprisoned.

Leslie's cock was an impressive nine inches slack before. Now, as Janet injected each balloon with her compound, it grew and grew and grew. Both in length and girth. When she was finished it stood straight up his slender belly. Right up to his well-formed chest and it was nearly three inches across. Otherwise, it was perfect. It wasn't distorted or misshapen. It retained it perfect shape except for the size. As I said, almost grotesque, but it would serve the boy's new owner, a Russian woman from Kiev, very well.

Of course, now that it has been so expanded, the pressure of the balloons on the urinary tract have all but closed it. She completes this by injecting a dose of the fluid right up inside it and then punctures him down between his legs. The Russian likes scunge and if he pisses while she was fucking him, she would be quite pleased about it.

I always like to feel these modified boys a bit and Leslie would be spending the night in my bed so I could feel and fondle his now enormous cock all night. He would then be in for special lessons on how to use it to the best effect.


Stewart has already had the elastrating ring placed on his cock and balls. The day I placed it on, they swelled up enormously and he was in great pain. This is normal and didn't worry me of course. Then the organs slowly blackened and began to shrink. His buyer, an enormously wealthy Japanese man could well have afforded to have him surgically castrated but he likes his boys with the stump as I'm told they retain some sexual feeling there. The Jap likes to fuck the beach boy types he favours while fondling the stump of their cocks and teasing them about their status as a eunuch. Stewart is in for a bad time of it, I'm afraid. The Jap likes to punish his boys a lot and he never fucks them without spanking, paddling and whipping them first.

The remaining time we have with this bunch will be spent in refining their physiques, getting their testosterone doses just right to ensure a perfect male physique but without the rambunctious behaviour too much can sometimes create and then completing their sexual education.

Then it will be time to ship them off. This we do very carefully. I have refined very well the process of knocking them out with a long-lasting drug then fitting them into a tiny box which no-one would believe could possible hold a man. This is then shipped as machine parts by air freight and I monitor its progress until it is collected at the other end. We haven't had a shipment go wrong yet.

Life is great. I am doing what I love and I'm making a neat half million or so every four months or thereabouts. I've decided my boy next time will be a black. John really inflamed me but he was Liz' boy and I never interfere with my girls' slaves. I had watched enviously as she put the so handsome and so beautifully muscled boy through his paces and I creamed in my pants as I imagined having him fuck me. Hell, I might, if the boy was really special, even keep him for my own slave.