Lisa's Castration Fantasy
(f/m, teens, castration, cons)
By Rachael (email@example.com)
Disclaimer: I wrote this under a pen name I use sometimes,
mostly because I was worried about offending some people who really
know me (Rachael) and wouldn't understand. So, for the first time I
confess Rachael is me, and I am Lisa ....Like that means anything to
any of you!!
Anyway - This story is free for anyone to read. It's fantasy, don't
try this at home and don't use it for an alibi if you ever need one.
If you're a juvenile, show it to your Dad first and ask him what he
thinks. (You're mom might encourage you to read it; dad won't)
I wrote this in Seattle ohhhh...1999? Springtime?
Lisa's Castration Fantasy
By Lisa P.
Disclaimer: There is none. It's a fantasy.
He was only 13. I picked him up at Southcenter Mall in my Dad's car.
He wanted to be castrated and I wanted to do it. I was as pretty as I
could make myself for him. He deserved it. I let my long blonde hair
hang free and I wore a pair of pink shorts and a tight white t-shirt
with no bra. I'm 5'2" 100 lbs and my boobs aren't really big, 34b, but
my nipples were hard when I saw him.
I couldn't believe he really wanted this. We'd chatted online and
later on the phone. He told me he loved me and that he wanted to give
me something. When I realized he really was only 13 I tried to talk
him out of it. I really did. I'm only 17 and as much as I wanted it
too, it did seem wrong at first. Especially since this couldn't be
more than an infatuation, a crush which would change his life
forever...Both of our lives. But he insisted and I agreed.
We went to my family's cabin in Enumclaw to be alone. We had a couple
days. He was supposed to be at a scouting camp, but he'd told the
scoutmaster at the last minute that he couldn't go. His parents
dropped him off at the church, but he'd ditched the bus. And I was
supposedly staying with a friend who would cover for me; she thought I
was with my bf. What grand schemes. Not perfect excuses, but the only
ones we had.
I let him explore that first night. He'd never been with a girl before
and he was so sweet and tender. His first kisses were soft and the
surprise in his eyes when I parted his lips with my tongue was
wonderful. He cupped my breasts in his hands squeezing so softly, I
had to put mine over his and urge him to press harder. I told him he
couldn't break me, to do with me whatever he liked. When I pulled off
my shorts and panties for him he stared innocently at my light bush. I
took his hand in mine and pushed his fingers between my legs.
I was already wet and it surprised him, but I told him it was ok and
he learned quickly how to rub my soft folds. His fingers were so nice,
not like the men I'd been with, rough and urgent forcing themselves
inside. This boy was slow and gentle and I reveled in his delight.
When he slipped a finger inside my warm wetness I could feel my pussy
walls gripping his thin finger, I was going to cum already. I hadn't
experienced anything like this before, always it had been me who was
young and filled with innocence. I finally understood what it was that
older men found so appealing in me.
I moved his mouth to my sex, pulling his head gently and filled with a
need to feel his lips on my heat. My orgasm shook me the moment I felt
his hot breath on my clit. I cried out and shook and let the waves
wash through me. My young lover backed away, not sure if I was all
right. I pulled him by the hair back to my pussy, thrusting my hips at
him until I felt his first tentative kisses. I sighed and begged him
to lick me, I promised him anything if he would push his sweet little
tongue inside me. I was rewarded when he began to lick and suck and
kiss my vagina harder, finally realizing it was what I so desperately
He was inexperienced to be sure, I had to talk to him, move his mouth
with my hands so that he would find and stay in the right places. But
it didn't really matter, I was so hot, so ready by this time anyplace
I felt his lips was ecstasy for me. He made me cum again and yet
again, deep shuddering cums like I'd only had rarely with a man. When
he lifted his face finally from between my legs and took quick deep
breaths I could see his face wet and red and shiny with my juices. He
smiled, bashfully, wonderfully like a small dog that wants so
desperately to please his mistress. I pulled him to me and kissed him,
licking myself from his lips and face.
I could feel his cock, hard and throbbing against my body. I asked him
if he wanted to make love now and he nodded. I kissed him again,
softly, playing with his tongue while I positioned him, spreading my
legs and bending my knees missionary style. His cock wasn't large by
any means, 5" perhaps and a little bigger around than a man's thumb.
But it was beautiful. I looked down, between our bodies and saw it
standing straight out from his body. I reached down to feel him in my
hand; it was so hard, so hot and smooth. I rubbed the head across my
wet slit and had to hold him with my other arm, talking to him to be
calm, to slow down. He was already trying to thrust inside. Poor boy,
he was so close to cumming and I wanted him inside me.
When the head of his 13-year-old cock entered me he gasped. I
smiled and told him it was ok, to push slowly, gently. No need to
hurry, no rush. I wanted him to make love to me, slowly, to make it
last so it would be nice for both of us. He began moving his cute
little butt forward, his cock spearing into my wetness easily. It was
so nice, size didn't matter at all. This was the best fuck of my life
by far. I started cumming again, thinking about his stiff cock, which
had never known a woman before, sliding inside me. My pussy tightened
and I pulled him close hearing him moan loudly as he suddenly
erupted in a flash of warm semen. 30 seconds was all it had taken and we
were both flying in ecstasy. I was cumming long and hard, knowing that
his sperm was filling my body, his balls pumping his seed into a
womb for the first time... and... maybe for the last time.
I held him to me, not letting him pull out as we both began to come
down from our high. He didn't go soft at all, I could feel him still hard inside me
and that thought alone kept me on the brink of orgasm. After a few
minutes of kissing he began to make love to me again, properly fucking
me this time. I let him go, only stroking his smooth boy body
while he discovered what is instinctive to all of us. Then he began fucking
me in earnest, driving his hard penis in and out slowly at first, then
building until it was feeling delicious inside. I was
moving with him, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts, urging him
deeper inside me, pulling his smooth butt with my hands.
I was cumming again, too soon. My body was flushed and it was hard to
breath. I looked into his angelic face, watching the pleasure fill his
eyes. I was kissing him, forcing my tongue into his mouth as I cried
out. He suddenly was cumming with me, perfectly in time. Hot boy cum
flooded my already soaked pussy, driving me completely over the edge.
His cock throbbed and I could feel the desperate spurting of his
sperm. I felt cold and hot and my body shook as wave after wave of joy
rocked my whole being. It was the best orgasm of my life, I loved him
more than I ever thought possible at that moment. I was dying inside
from sheer pleasure.
When at last I could regain my breath I pulled him to my breast,
stroking his hair and thanking him. I had tears in my eyes and he
asked me if he'd hurt me. I had no answer, only soft kisses on his
mouth and cheeks and eyes. His cock was finally growing soft inside
me, but not completely so. I could feel the wetness from our
lovemaking leaking out between my thighs, wetting the sheets beneath us.
It cooled quickly but I didn't mind, I didn't want to move from this
spot ever. I wanted to stay like this, holding my lovely boy
inside me forever.
I asked him if he was sure he wanted me to do what we had planned. If
he wanted to be castrated, to give his very manhood to me. I asked him
if he could live without ever making love again. He looked at me,
solemn and honest and asked me if it was what I really wanted. I
should have lied. I should have told him no, that I wanted him to
wait. To experience life more fully, to understand more completely
what we were contemplating. But looking into his bright blue eyes I
couldn't' say anything except the truth. Yes. I wanted more than
anything else to accept his precious gift. To remove his balls and
keep them always close to me. To know that he would never know another
woman as he had me. I wanted to be his first and only love.
It sounds ridiculous, unreasonable at least. I know I will never be
able to explain to anyone's satisfaction what I meant, what I felt.
But it doesn't matter because I know and because I believe, looking in
his 13-year-old eyes, that my young lover knew. He accepted what I
said without question, he offered himself to me and promised that he
would always belong to me. He told me that he would never want another
woman, never experience another love, after these few short moments
with me. I was crying again and I felt his penis hardening inside me,
thickening for the third time without withdrawing from our union.
This time it would be my turn to be on top, rightfully, permanently. I
gently rolled him over, trading places until I was straddling his
narrow hips. I slowly rode his cock, working him in and out of my
juicy sex. I was unbelievably wet, from both of our fluids and it
spilled down his shaft as we made love for the last time. I was having
one orgasm after the other, small sweet cums as I told him how nice it
was. How special it was to make love to him. When he finally came for
the third time, spilling yet another load of his hot young sperm deep
inside me it was perfect. I held him there, milking him with my
vaginal walls until I felt his cock begin to go soft and slip out.
I lay down beside him, idly tracing simple patterns on his smooth
hairless chest while I moved my other hand between my legs. Neither of
us said anything, the moment was enough. I felt the wetness leaking
out and I rubbed it into my clit, massaging my swollen labia with it.
I was thinking how it would be, the act itself, of castrating this
boy. I fingered myself slowly while he touched my breasts, playing
with my nipples and after a few minutes falling into a peaceful sleep.
I brought myself to orgasm again, watching him, feeling his seed still
inside me. It was nice, not as deep or intense as the ones he'd given
me earlier, but nice and I teased myself with them until I knew it was
I didn't have proper anesthesia, only a few prescription sleeping
pills and some vodka. I mixed 3 pills in a glass with vodka and orange
juice. It would put him to sleep, hopefully deep enough that he
wouldn't feel what I was doing. If not, it would at least make the
pain tolerable I hoped. I woke him up and he drank my concoction
quickly, making a face at the taste. I kissed him and laughed with
him, talking about little things until he fell asleep again some 15
I put an old quilt on the bed and some towels since I didn't know how
much blood there might be. I laid his sleeping form on the bed and
tied his spread legs to the bedposts. I did the same with his wrists;
if my lover woke up I didn't want him to do anything that might really
hurt either of us unexpectedly. I looked down at him, sleeping so
peacefully. He was beautiful and I cherished the moment. I considered
for a moment and decided I would gag him as well. We were probably
miles away from anyone who might hear him if he started to scream. I
really did not want him to wake up until it was over. I couldn't bear
the thought of causing him pain, but knowing he wanted this as much as
I there was no thought of stopping. Only that I do the best possible
job and keep him comfortable.
I had everything I could think of. I'd borrowed a pair of library
books, one amazingly detailed in human anatomy. The other explained at
length surgical procedures and medical treatment. Obviously I wasn't a
doctor or even a nurse, but I had been studying and it did not seem as
though this was as difficult a task as I'd first thought. I had some
surgical thread and tape, two scalpels, some small clamps, a bottle of
iodine, some alcohol, sterile gauze and cotton swabs, and a pair of
surgical scissors. It wasn't hard to get this stuff, the sterile
surgical gloves were the hardest, believe it or not. Most of it I just
swiped from a cart at the local hospital. I hoped I had everything I
I knelt at the foot of the bed and started by washing his pubic area
front and back with an iodine sponge thing. It had a soft scrubber on
one side and a sponge soaked in iodine on the other. It foamed up
nicely and turned his pale skin a ruddy brown. I didn't know how long
to do it, but I figured 15 minutes was long enough. He didn't wake up
but I could see his cock growing harder as I washed around it. I was
tempted to clean him off and give him a blowjob; I was growing wet
again thinking about it. But I decided not too because I only had one
of those cleaning pads. But it was nice he was hard, his cock stood
flat against his tummy out of the way. Of course this also meant he
had complete, feeling in his body, but I'd known he would. I just hoped
he wouldn't wake up.
Next I was going to make a long cut down the center of his ball sac
from about half an inch from the base of his cock to an equal distance
from where his sac met his pelvis underneath. I wasn't as steady as I
wished I was, but I wasn't shaking too badly either. I separated his
balls safely out of the way with my pointing finger and little finger
and kept the middle two fingers opposite on the back of his scrotum,
keeping it tight. The scalpels were soaking in alcohol and I lifted
one out. It looked extremely sharp and I took a deep breath and
inserted it carefully into his scrotum.
A little bit of blood showed up, but not a large flow. The testes
require nearly as much blood flow as the human brain, according to my
book, but the arteries and veins were all relatively small. There were
just a lot of them. My book said there were two larger vessels but
they were close to the body and I shouldn't have to worry if I was
careful. I was careful; I cut a long incision down the centerline of
his sac as straight as possible and only deep enough to cut through
My lover's cock stayed hard the entire time but he didn't stir at all,
I was very grateful for that. I put the scalpel back into the little
pan of alcohol making a little cloud of crimson. More blood was
flowing, but not too much. I was feeling more confident now than I had
earlier. I carefully pulled the twin folds of his severed scrotum to
the sides. It was pinkish white inside and I could see the light
colored testes connected with tiny blood vessels and somewhat darker
tubes for his semen. I just looked at them for a moment, dabbing
carefully with some of the cotton swabs to clear away the blood and
whatever other fluids there were.
I slowly, gently used the surgical thread to tie the left group of
blood vessels and semen tube as close as I could manage to his pelvis.
I tied it closed tightly, making a series of small knots and then I
did the same to the other side. It was kind of slippery but I went as
slowly and carefully as I could until both of his balls were separated
from his body all but physically. I then lifted his left testes in my
hand. It was so small, so delicate looking. Only as big as my thumb I
think. I wanted to bend down and kiss it but I was afraid I might
contaminate him if I did. Instead I took the scissors out of the pan
and carefully cut his ball free just below the knot I had tied. I set
it in a small bowl of alcohol and then did the same with the other
I wiped away more blood that was flowing from my original incision. It
seemed like a lot, but I knew it was only from the many tiny vessels
in his skin and was not dangerous. I inspected the knots I had tied in
his tubes and was satisfied that they would hold. I watched him
closely to see if he was still sleeping, he was although he had
started to sweat and his body was slightly flushed. I knew his body
felt the pain, even if he were not awake to voice it. Part of me
wanted to hurry, to finish quickly, but I knew that would be a
mistake. As long as he stayed asleep it was ok.
I needed to cut away part of his scrotum on each of the side flaps I
had created. I wanted to sew him back together as smoothly as
possible. I knew even the best doctors had difficulty making small
stitches to leave small scars and I had no illusions about my
abilities. But I would do my best for him, he deserved it. I pulled
the two parts of his sac together, estimating how much I would be able
to safely cut away. I would err on the side of caution and I used the
second scalpel to remove only half of what I had estimated. I hated
doing it this way, it was taking a long time, nearly over an hour so
far, and it would mean two more cuts as I estimated again how much
more I could remove. But these would be the last two cuts I would
There was about an eighth of an inch on both sides overlapping. Which
was probably a good thing as I considered he would swell probably not
a small amount as he healed. I hoped I had left enough, actually. I
had threaded a needle with surgical thread before I started and I was
glad. My hands were sweaty in the gloves I wore; in fact I became
conscious that my whole body was soaked in it despite being naked in
the cool cabin.
His cock, which had remained hard throughout the whole process, was
unfailing. I guess I'd expected it to go soft immediately after I'd
severed his balls, but it didn't. Also he wasn't showing any signs of
waking, probably due to the alcohol and sleeping pills but also to his
body going into mild shock at the things I was doing. My book said the
body would help protect itself and I believed it. I used the small
clamps I had, little flat springy things to hold what was left of his
scrotum together. It would have been impossible for me to hold it in
one hand and make the stitches with the other.
I probably made the stitches too big, in fact I'm sure of it. I didn't
want any chance of his skin coming apart so I made them close together
and pulled tightly. There were a total of 28, which is a huge number I
think for an incision barely 3 inches long. But it would hold and I
think once it healed it would not look too bad. He had what looked
like a small ridge of dark skin running from just below the base of
his penis to just about where his anus began to form. It actually
looked very nice I thought and as I examined it closely I finally let
myself relax for a few moments. I finished by washing his pubic area
again with iodine, very very gently. I applied a small amount of
alcohol to one of the gauzes and softly cleaned away the iodine. I let
it dry and then put small strips of surgical tape across the stitches.
I coated a fresh gauze compress with antibiotic cream and made a
dressing on the wound and carefully taped it into place.
His cock was still hard and I covered everything except his penis with
a towel and then carefully washed my young love's cock with warm soapy
water. I dried it off and lowered my mouth to his rigid shaft. I
didn't understand why he was still hard, I was sure however that he
still had some semen left in his tubes. Precum had been leaking
steadily and I could taste it leaking even now. I sucked slowly,
gently, while I fingered my pussy. I hadn't washed myself from our
lovemaking and I knew I was still wet and dirty inside. I wasn't sure
I should be doing this, if he could ejaculate once again, emptying
what was left in his body, it might put pressure on the knots I had
tied in his tubes. Reluctantly I decided I couldn't risk it, I
couldn't do anything that might spoil our efforts.
I pulled my mouth away from his cock and contented myself with
masturbation. I rubbed my clit and fingered my pussy while I watched
him sleep, his precious gift to me in a small bowl on the bed between
his legs. I came deliciously, over and over. What was left of his
sperm washed out of me by my own orgasms. I lay there, on the floor at
the foot of our love bed exhausted. Not from our lovemaking, not from
my masturbation, but from having concentrated so hard on what I'd done
to this boy. But I couldn't sleep until I knew he was ok.
I undid his gag, kissing him on his mouth, his eyes. Looking for any
sign of discomfort, but there was none. I checked his wrists and
ankles, deciding to keep him bound until he was fully awake. It was
then that I realized I was lucky I'd covered him with the towel like I
had. He began to urinate in his sleep and I moved quickly to prevent
it from soaking through to his bandages. It wasn't too much and most
of it had actually sprayed up onto his chest. I washed him gently and
he was stirring a little. He'd been asleep 3 hours but he wasn't
waking up, just dreaming I think. I heated some sheets in the dryer
for 15 minutes while I cleaned him again, removing the quilt and
towels from under him. They were bloodied to be sure, but not badly. I
covered him in the now warm sheets and made sure he was comfortable
while I showered.
For three days we stayed in that cabin. Both of our families I'm sure
were frantic, but of course they had no idea of the others existence
and would never tie us together. The phone rang several times, I'm
sure my parents thought, perhaps even hoped, I'd come up here to be
with a new boyfriend. Little did they know, I expected my father or
perhaps the local sheriff to come up and check in person, but nobody
I tended my patient with all the care any nurse could possess. I
waited on him hand and foot, bathing him, feeding him, reading to him,
and laying next to him as we spoke in hushed whispers about the
future. He was mine now, mine alone. He belonged to me as he'd
promised. As he'd proven. He healed quickly and by the third day he
was able to walk around gingerly, but not too much. It would be
several weeks before he was really back to any semblance or normalcy.
His swelling was not so bad, there was also not too much bruising,
only a little black and yellow staining of the skin. He was beautiful.
His cock was still semi-hard sometimes when we would lie together and
I thought that maybe after a week I would be able to milk the last
remnants of his balls out of his body. Below his cock he was flat,
smooth and soft except for the small ridge of stitches, which were
dark and hard. Once healed I thought it would be very attractive and I
told him so.
In fact that was his only real concern, if I could love him and want
to keep him even though he was now castrated. I could not find enough
words to tell him how much I loved him and would want and need him
close to me. Not just now, but forever. We were bonded for life. And
while I might have other men, even other boys, in the future he would
always be the first and he would always be with me.
I took him to Seattle and dropped him off at a phone booth outside a
closed gas station. I waited while he called 911 and an ambulance was
on the way. He was taken to a hospital and treated and his parents
notified. He told authorities an older white male had abducted him and
he had no memory of what happened until he was in the ambulance. He
suffered through the questions and the Doctors and the Psychiatrists.
He felt very bad for his parents because he could not share his new
happiness with them. His father in particular became distant and had
difficulty in dealing with his son's physical situation. I was so glad
that I was able to talk to him almost daily, occasionally able to even
see him and spend time with him. But it wasn't easy; his mother was
extremely protective oh him now.
I was gratified to learn that the doctors thought his assailant must
have had medical training. They of course operated again to ensure
that he was ok inside and out. And with a little cosmetic touching up
the scarring is much less severe than I had feared. My love was so
brave, so strong for me.
As for me. I confessed to running off to Reno with a man I hardly
knew. Had a wild time, got in a fight, and came running home realizing
I wasn't ready for the world. Daddy forgave me, he always does. Mom
took a little more time. I didn't have a car again until I bought one
when I graduated high school. The first thing I did? I hung a pair of
well preserved testicles from my rearview mirror. Then I picked up my
love-slave and took him to Reno. He left a note this time; he was almost 15
and he wouldn't be coming back.