The Size of the Sausage

"When people mention castration these days, it's usually a symbolic reference to some female who humiliates and degrades a man. However, in the ranching world, castration is a simple surgical procedure wherein a male mammal has his testicles removed. As it happens, I have broad experience with castration. As a young man, I worked on a goat ranch, and I've castrated dozens of male goats. It's a snap, so to speak.

"Now, a castrated male goat, known as a wether, is sort of like a third gender. It is neither male nor female, but it possesses characteristics of both. However, it can mate with neither. Intact male goats are aggressive, stinky, and constantly horny. Sort of like you. A wether is friendly, sweet-smelling, and has no thoughts of sex. It eats, it plays, it's happy. A castrated goat is a happy goat. You, asshole, are not a happy goat, but I can fix that for you."

Clint was now struggling, vocalizing, and violently shaking his head. Hank continued with his monologue.

"The procedure itself is very simple. I can fix a goat in under 2 minutes, with almost no bleeding. First, I need a friend to hold the animal by the hind legs, with the head held between my friend's legs, if the animal is larger. Sort of the way you're hanging now. With a single-edged razor blade, like I have in my hand now, I lift up the scrotum and slice off the bottom 1/3 or so."

Hank picked up Clint's scrotum with 2 fingers. Clint's screams sounded pathetic.

"When that is done, I work out each testicle and pull steadily until it comes away in my hand. It's important to pull it off instead of slicing it off, because the pulling causes the blood vessels to spring back and close up, which controls the bleeding. If you slice 'em off, the animal can easily bleed to death. Then I just finish with a bit of antiseptic spray, and bobs-your-uncle, as the Brits say. Lastly, I always saved the testes and scrotum bits for the dog, who loves to munch on them. Did you know I have a dog, Clint?"

Clint was beyond frantic from the pain and fear. How could he have misjudged things so badly? Fucking Doris wasn't worth any part of what he was enduring now. And she was in Hank's bedroom now, joyfully preparing herself to be ass-fucked by her boyfriend, not worrying about him in the least.

"So Clit, I mean, Clint old buddy, I'll give you an opportunity now to say a few final words before I make you a wether and you start your new life of zero pussy. Got something you want to say?" Hank removed the underwear gag.

"You ass..." he began, and then realizing this was his only shot, began again. "I mean, man, I'm sorry. From what that bitch told me, I thought you'd be okay with...with what we had in mind. I, I can see now that I was wrong. You're a man after all. Look dude, you may not realize it, but my cock is about all I've got goin' for me. Believe it or not, I'm not really all that smart."

"Oh, I can believe that, Clinty."

"Yeah, well, I really need to be able to fuck. I can't really do a job, you know. Never learned how to do much that somebody would pay me for. I get women to pay for stuff, mostly, and if I don't have a cock, they're not interested in me for just my looks. Man, if you cut my balls off, you're gonna kill me, 'cause I won't be able to, you know, support myself. And I'll get depressed and die. Don't kill me, man. Let me go and you'll never see me again. I'll clear out of town and never come back. I been thinkin' about the west coast for awhile, anyway. Come on, man. Please! Give me a chance!"

"I really think you'd be happier castrated. Sex is so overrated, anyway. Don't you think? Is all the pussy you've ever had worth what you've gone through today? And what's still left to go through? I mean, they tell me it hurts like rip when those balls come off. And, I think you'll have to have a few bones set in your leg and feet. If you'd just been fixed as a teenager, none of this would be happening."

"No, man. Don't do it. I'm beggin' ya, please! It'll kill me to lose my balls."

"Would you then promise me to leave town and never come back? See, I don't want to have to go through this with you again, and if you try and get me back, you'll wind up just like this, or worse. Big brain, you know?"

"I just want out, dude. I just want to go to the hospital and then hit the road. I'll even forget the name of this town. Just cut me a break. I don't mean cut me, I just mean, well, you know, show me some mercy."

"Well, it's against my better judgment, but if that's what you really want, I suppose I'll let you go. Just remember that I have ways to check on you, and if you ever come back this way, I'll know it, and you will definitely lose your balls, and maybe more. Got that?"

"Dude, thank you so much! Can you let me down, now, please? This shit really hurts."

Hank lowered Clint to the floor, cut loose the zip tie, and watched him crawl on his hands and knees to the car. Hank helped him into the front seat, started the engine, and sent him on his way. Clint found it very difficult to drive, given the condition of his leg and feet. That was the last Hank ever saw of him.

On Hank's return to the bedroom, he found Doris in position to be ass-fucked. He was enjoying his new-found role as whore master. He was pretty sure she would be compliant for the foreseeable future, until he decided he was finished with her. It wasn't his true nature to be a dominant prick, but Doris was responding, and it would be an interesting ride until something more suitable came along.

Hank slapped her bottom and climbed naked onto the bed behind her. He dribbled lube onto her ass hole and poked his middle finger into her depths. Removing it, he sniffed to make sure she had followed his instructions. Grunting his approval, Hank lubed his cock and began to insert it into Doris' rectum.

"Clint is gone, for good. You will never see him again, and you will not be with anyone but me until I tell you differently."

"Okay."

"You may finger your clit while I fuck your ass."

"Thank you, Hank. I'm so sorry about everything. You feel wonderful inside me, baby."