The Stud and the Castratrix
This story is written by Greg
Clyde did not know where he
was or where he was going. He passed closed door after closed door down the
hall. Mistress Bianca gave a tug on the leash as he slowed for a stride. Before
him, she strutted along with purpose. Clyde knew better at this point than to
try and resist his Mistress. Although she was a head shorter than him and
nowhere near as strong, she knew too well how to handle him. That’s how he ended
up where he was now. She was young and gave off such an air of innocence that it
was disarming. The freckling along her cheeks was what sent him over the edge.
The next thing Clyde knew, she had him locked and bound as her male slave.
Thinking it was all a game, he played along, pledging himself to Mistress
Bianca, confessing himself, and all his past misbehavior. He was not the
submissive type and did not play for long. But by then it was too late. It was
difficult to tell, but that may have been weeks ago. And Mistress Bianca was
playing no game.
Now he was collared and gagged, with his forearms lashed behind his back, trotting along naked behind Mistress Bianca. The loop of the leash hung loosely around her wrist. Her skirt of pink plaid bounced dangerously high, falling in step with her waving auburn hair. Between her skirt and black high socks, her thighs drew his attention. That and the exposed small of her back. He switched his thoughts away from that. Since his capture, he had been placed in chastity. A rubber ring and a leather strap held him down in a perpetual kowtow. This did nothing to help since his desire had only increased with no outlet. Even if he did resist, in her other hand she carried a short crop, the symbol as her rank and status as Mistress. It was more than just a toy, she wielded it with skill subduing Clyde’s revolts.
Last night had been the final straw for the both of them. During a teasing session as he knelt before her, Clyde snapped and attempted to mount his Mistress. His fetters prevented him from being any real threat, but he still managed to dry hump her leg for a few glorious seconds. A serious desecration, one he had yet to learn the punishment of.
“Here we are,” Mistress Bianca announced. They had come to a pair of double red doors. Above them was a bronze plate with the label Castratory written in a flowing script. Clyde did not have much time to wonder what this meant before he was led through. Inside, it was dim so that the size of the room could not be guessed. The walls were lost in the shadows. The light of the room was centered on a single table. It was neither large nor high, but it was intimidating. It had no legs, but rather rose out of the floor like an altar. One side was higher than the other creating a gentle downward slope. The flat top and the tall side were padded with black leather. The remaining sides revealed deep red wood. The top was covered with various belts and straps and on its center was a large pink Shield of Venus. Clyde had a foreboding sense but allowed himself to be brought to the table none the less. With a point and a finger snap from Mistress Bianca, he was prostate on the table. The slab was barely long and wide enough for his masculine frame.
After fastening his collar, Mistress Bianca used anklets to secure his legs where they dangled over the edge. Next, she used three thick belts, each complete with a double pronged buckle. The first two went over his thighs and navel while the last band went firm across his chest. Clyde felt immobile, vulnerable, yet strangely comfortable so long as he did not fidget.
Mistress Bianca now turned her attention to Clyde’s chastity belt. He could not see but could feel her applying a warm lather. The scent of cream and honey sailed into his nostrils. He dared not breathe as he felt a blade run across his skin. His worry was unfounded though. She was done as quick as she began leaving his skin fresh and sensitive. She placed her hands on her hips and admired her work with her dark eyes.
“The Castratrix will be in shortly,” he was informed. The lingo again confused him, but it still unnerved him. “Castratress Alexandra is an expert at dealing with rebellious males. When she’s finished with you, we will be having no more of your naughty behaviors.” Bending over him, she placed a small kiss on his forehead. With a smile of someone who knows they got their way, she glided out of sight, and left him for his new disciplinarienne.
There was no way to tell how long he laid exposed. Questions were racing through Clyde’s mind as he tried and determine his situation. The muffling silence calmed his mind until he almost began to sleep. Even the warm air was oppressive and stifling.
“What have we here?” came a mellifluous voice from behind. A young woman walked into view reinvigorating Clyde. The picture of perfection was observing him with piercing green eyes. “Quite the specimen,” she noted. “Very fine musculature.” She wore a white skirted corset which clung to her body revealing the shapeliness of her physique. Her revealed skin was lightly tanned and without blemish. She seemed to radiate in the dim room. Hair the color of golden straw cascaded down her back. In her hands was a pink and gold riding crop. Clyde found her presence unbearably feminine. A sense of primal lust overcame his senses as the chastity belt grew taut. He struggled to move closer to her, but his bonds held him neatly in place.
“Don’t worry, you’re nice and secure,” Mistress Alexandra reassured him. She traced the tongue of her crop along the contours of his straining muscles. “See?” Chest, arms, abs, obliques, hips, everywhere it licked Clyde pulled harder, testing his unyielding restraints. So close, yet so far. Satisfied with his bondage, she drew a soft finger along the bottom of his manhood leaving a tickly line behind. He breathed deep and grunted as he throbbed in his confines. She giggled and brushed him with all four fingertips. Clyde whimpered in frustration as his captive organ tried to grow.
“Look at you, so helpless.” Her voice had the slightest hint of an accent. Perhaps French or German. “All wrapped up in a neat little package.” To Clyde’s amazement and delight, Mistress Alexandra unlocked and removed his chastity belt. Sweet relief. She drew her finger across again only slower and lighter. He relished the caress as he rose to greet her. “My, you are quite the stud, aren’t you?” Quivering, he stood at attention as she inspected with her thumb and forefinger.
“Your Mistress has told me all about you and your behavior,” she said when she finished. “Many Mistresses have romanticized dreams of owning a stud of their own. The caveat with studs is that they can be dangerous and aggressive as you have displayed.” She picked up her crop and began playfully flicking the tip. “You’ll have to be gelded just to be safe.”
‘Oh please, no!’ he wanted to shout, finally realizing his danger. But all that came out from his muzzle was “Mmmmm.”
“Yes, males really shouldn’t be left intact.” Clyde began to struggle but a sharp slap to his shaft settled him. “None of that now,” Mistress Alexandra said in a too-soothing tone. “You are to behave yourself for your castration.” She ran her finger along his skin for a third time sending him throbbing. “Men are nothing more than dirty dogs. And there’s only on way to fix a dirty dog.” He began to struggle again only to receive another tap. The residual sting only made him throb harder.
“This is for your own good.” Clyde began to pull as hard as his lashings would allow. Panic washed over him like a trapped animal. It took seven taps from tip to balls before he would yield. “Mmmmm,” he protested.
“Such an eager boy,” she said with a titter. “You must be prepped first before you can be clipped.” She walked out if Clyde’s sight. “Gelding a stud is quite simple,” his Castratress continued, “but when he has lived in chastity a deep milking is necessary to instill proper submission and relaxation. Males are most submissive following emission. When the male is clipped in his refractory period, even the most aggressive, dominant stud turns into a docile, passive gelding. Most males do not even realize what is happening until it is over.”
She walked back into sight, now as naked as he was. Her figure outdid anything he could have imagined while it was hidden by her bodice. Above him her firm breasts dangled while at eye level, just inches away, was her sweet forbidden fruit. Clyde couldn’t help but thrash again, only now it was from uncontrolled desire to mount and take her body. For his efforts, he received three more strikes along his shaft.
“Besides,” she said as if nothing had happened, “there’s nothing quite so fun as breaking in a lively stud.” With her thumb and finger, she gripped just below his head. Behind him, Clyde felt a thin object slipping inside. He fidgeted risking another blow but instead, Mistress Alexandra gave a steady squeeze turning his muscles to butter. “This is my magic wand,” she told him as it slid in deeper. “It will keep you under control as I work you.” A faint but admittedly pleasant tingle emanated from the wand deep inside him. Clyde felt himself stiffen to his fullest capacity.
“Now this,” Mistress Alexandra was now holding a silver rod shaped as a torpedo, “this should get you nice and fluffed.” She touched the baton to his skin where it vibrated prickling his nerves. The sensation made Clyde moan uncontrollably. It only took moments for him to be panting like a sprinter, but she continued testing and teasing every part of his manhood.
“Don’t worry, I know just how to touch you.” Mistress Alexandra demonstrated by stroking along Clyde’s ridge. she spun the point around his head before descending along the arch on his backside. He never even knew he could be so sensitive there. After spending a lengthy time tickling his arch, she rolled the point down his ridge, pressing his member to his belly, before alighting on his sack. She rested it, allowing the vibration to set in deep switching back and forth between left to right. And then it stopped. Clyde was left trembling after his session. Even though he was no longer being touched, his organ still buzzed with sensitivity.
“It must have been weeks since your last milking.” Mistress Alexandra was bent at the waist looking down at his twitching arousal. A few golden hairs brushed his abs. “Chastity only masks the problem of male dominance. The problem lays right here,” skimming his boys with her crop. “It will be best to remove the temptation completely.” Clyde felt a warm liquid drip over his shaft. Mistress Alexandra held something new, but it remained just out of sight. His head grazed something soft before being squeezed into a fleshy sleeve, sopping with lubricant. The heat from it rivaled his own and he broke out in sweat all over.
“Just relax.” Mistress Alexandra slowly plunged him inside all the way to the base. A quick withdrawal was followed by another descent. No girl could ever compete with what Clyde was feeling. The tender pressure and the inviting warmth made his mind a blur. She pumped slow and steady edging him closer to breaking. Still aware of his danger, Clyde fought to control his body that was increasingly giving over to his Mistress. Before he reached the point of no return he was drawn all the way out, making him feel more naked than ever. Without any outlet, his body shuddered violently before being inserted again. Now the vibrator returned to rest on his balls and the pumping continued only for it to end prematurely once more.
These sessions went on, each ending with a sudden withdrawal and each time being moments closer to ceding. Clyde’s mind hung in the balance between his coming emasculation, and the sweet suckling on his phallus tempting him to yield. The sweat built up until beads were running off his chest but still he was forced to wait. He no longer formed words in his head but grunted like an animal. After a final pause, Clyde was left writhing in his bonds. Constant flexion had left his muscles stiff and sapped. Even his eardrums bulged from pressure.
“I think you’re ready now.” Mistress Alexandra inserted him again, tightening her instrument. “Don’t fight it,” she warned him. The wand began pulsating, pushing him harder and harder. How could he ever have resisted such a feeling? Such perfection? Such a natural state of rightful Female dominance and sacrifice of such blasphemous male virility?
“Almost there...” Broken at last, Clyde submit himself to his Castratress as spurt after spurt came gushing out. More than he thought possible. “Good boy, good boy,” she praised him, coaxing out the last few drops. The ceiling above spun in circles. Clyde was now grateful for the table holding him fixed. Without it, he felt as if he may float away. He was vaguely aware of Mistress Alexandra’s implements being removed and a new one being added. “Let’s put this away now.” She slipped his softening cock into a metal chastity cage, locking Clyde down and bent. With a series of clicks, it squeezed until there was no wiggle room left. She disappeared behind him where he could hear her busying about.
Clyde had still not caught his breath Mistress Alexandra returned once again clothed in her bodice. But now, her golden hair was wrapped in a taut bun and on her hands, she wore a pair of surgical gloves, skin tight. In her left hand was a needle. “I bet that felt pretty good, didn’t it?” Clyde felt a poke in his lower abs. Tendrils drifted down and wrapped themselves around his manhood. It felt like sinking into a warm, forgetful bath. “This will take the sting away. But it is important that you feel it.” The tender caress of her hand was the last thing he felt. “It’s almost a shame,” she said locking eyes with her prey. “Almost,” she emphasized.
He lay calmly as she bent over him. She drew a line down the left side of his sack. The velvety tickle didn’t fade as his organ was manipulated. The intensity of the sensation was toe curling as ecstatic moans escaped him. It was not until he heard an echoing snip and his left side went numb that he came to. Catching a glance at the pair of metal pincers in her hands, the realization of what was happening hit him like cold water. ‘This can’t be happening.’ But it was. His exhaustion was so extreme he could not even struggle. All he could get out was a feeble “Mmmmm.”
“You’re okay,” Castratress Alexandra reassured him even as a new line ran down on his right side. ‘No, I’m not. Please, I’ll be good. I’ll submit, I’ll submit.’ Again, “Mmmmm.” Despite himself, he could not tell if he moaned in protest or enthusiasm to Castratress Alexandra’s handling.
“Shhh.” And that was the end of it. Clyde lay still as the Castratrix unmanned him with a final snip.
“There, all done!” she said, snapping off her gloves. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Clyde could barely comprehend what just happened. A finger scratched beneath his chin while his body relaxed. The doors opened and shut as Mistress Bianca bounced into view.
“Was he a good boy for you, Castratress?” Mistress Bianca asked, appraising Clyde’s emasculated body.
“He was feisty and held out long. But in the end, he broke.” Castratress Alexandra giggled. “It is ironic how the part that makes studs so strong can also make them so weak.” Mistress Bianca slipped a hand down to feel her work.
“He’s so smooth now.” Her voice was in awe. “Castratress, why is he caged? I thought he wouldn’t need it if he was gelded.”
“The cage can be tightened. Two clicks a week should be sufficient to remove his last piece in a fortnight making him a full eunuch.” Mistress Bianca’s dark eyes gleamed. “I can see why you wanted to keep him whole, but this really is for the best. Tonight, he will remain in the Castratory to acclimate to his new gender. By morning, he will be as harmless as a puppy.”
“Thank you, Castratress. He was such a handful while intact. But now he should have no distractions to interfere with his training.” Castratress Alexandra smiled and left her with her slave. Mistress Bianca’s hand felt his numbness as she placed her lips to his ear.
“Silly boy, thinking you could mount me. Had you behaved, I may have ridden you. In restraints, of course.” Mistress Bianca whispered to Clyde’s ear. “But now that I see you, I think I’ll much prefer my sweet little gelding.” She followed with a last kiss over his gag.
She left, closing and locking the doors behind her. The silence and exhaustion overpowered him. Clyde slipped into sleep, a stud no more.
This story is written byGreg