penectomy

We go to the Corral every couple of weekends. It’s kind of a rough country sort of joint, a ways out of town off a dusty road with a blinking neon sign advertising it from the highway. Tough guys from all over show up to drink, carouse, and show just how tough they are. It’s a mixed bar, both gay and straight guys show up from all over, but any pansy walking in usually leaves, either on his own feet or unconscious - fights bust out all the time, and end up with the combatants buying each other drinks as often as getting thrown out. The drinks are cheap and the pool tables scuzzy, but we don’t go for the cheap beer or dive atmosphere. We go for the roulette.

It scares the hell out of most guys, and I guess it does me too. Well, maybe it doesn’t really frighten me anymore, having been up a few times…more like it’s a dangerous thrill, like fucking the Sheriff’s daughter. I’m happily single so don’t worry much about having to explain to somebody if I lose, but always wonder about the guys who do. The ones who lose rarely come back, so I’ve wondered what their wives or boyfriends or whatever think about it when their man shows up missing some parts.

Tonight my boy Brock wanted to come. He’d just turned twenty-three and had heard of the Corral but never been, and wanted to go. I’m always up for it myself, so we got a little crew together and headed down there.

“So that’s where they do it?” Brock asked as we walked in. At the back of the bar was a big plate-glass window, with a chain-link fence a few inches in front so bottles wouldn’t break it. Behind that was a bar top, only about two feet deep. There wasn’t a game on right now, so it was darkened. The football game was on the TV, and most of the guys in the bar were watching.

“Yeah,” I told him. “You stand up there. See those gray metal things?” I pointed out a bunch of metallic devices fastened to the window. “You put your junk in there. When they start the round it tightens up so you can’t pull out.”

“Sounds uncomfortable,” he remarked.

“Not really,” I replied, “but I guess when I’ve been up there it’s not what I’m usually thinkin’ about.” It was true; once I’d get clamped in, I’d be standing, legs spread a bit, cock and balls clamped into the hole, looking around at the other guys, laughing a little from the tension.

We headed up to the bar and got a round of beer, then found a table. “So when’s the next round?” Brock asked.

“Every hour, on the hour. Sometimes on the half if it’s real crowded.” I checked my watch. “Half an hour ‘til the next one. You gonna go up there?” I asked him.

“I dunno. First time I’ll just watch, I think.” Me and Jimmy gave each other knowing looks. A few more beers, we’d get him up there with us. “How many times have you guys been up there?”

“Hell, I dunno,” Jimmy answered. “Thirty, maybe?” he looked at me; I nodded - that was about right. We’d beaten the odds so far.

“And you don’t worry about it?”

Jimmy and I looked at each other with broad grins. “Of COURSE we worry about it,” Jimmy answered him. “It’s the thrill of doin’ it.”

“Yeah,” I chimed in. “Nuthin’ like not knowing if you’re still gonna have your meat in a minute or two, man.”

Brock just shook his head and smiled, but his eyes kept stealing over the window. We knew he wanted to go up there; he was just afraid to.

Thirty minutes turned into three rounds, and we were all feelin’ pretty good. Everybody in the room shut up when the bartender clanged the bell and called, “Roulette contestants, to the bar!”

Jimmy and I hopped up. “So you comin’ or are you a pussy?” I confronted the kid.

“I ain’t no pussy,” he replied, almost reflexively. He brooded for a moment, his eyes locked on that window, then hopped off his stool. “Alright, I’m goin’.”

We got in line with a bunch of other guys, roughnecks all tryin’ to show how manly they were. They led us into the backroom, where we stripped down and tossed our shit into wooden cubes along the wall. Everybody checked each other out back here. Even the straight guys would “compare” themselves to each other - not a hard feat considering there wasn’t a limp dick in the room. Even Brock’s thick ol’ sausage was rock-hard.

They turned the lights on behind the glass and we filed in. The bar patrons watched us come out, cheering on and shouting out to their buddies. Each of us got behind one of the silver bits. On the back they had a hole to put your shit into.

“So how do you do this?” Brock asked.

“Like this,” I showed him. “Slide your cock into the hole back here…” I pushed in, “until it locks around your balls.” There was a faint click, and I pulled back a bit to show how it locked you in. Jimmy pushed himself in, and then Brock.

Once all the guys had their junk in the holes, the bartender rang the bell again. “Here we go!” he shouted.

Outside the glass, the backs of the metal cocklocks flashed a light, each in turn, moving fast down the row and then starting over. We couldn’t see which was lit, but the crowd could, and we’d scan their eyes as they turned their heads to follow it.

The light moved slower and slower, the suspense building, and then finally, a click. The guy to Jimmy’s right pulled out, yelling, “No, not me!”

The rest of us, even Brock, jerked off furiously, spurting our seed on the glass at seeing this guy cleanly decocked. His balls still hung heavy in their sac, but above them was just a little cauterized stump. He felt it up, eyes downcast, hefting his balls in his hand.

Once we all came, the light flipped back off, and all twenty participants exit the room. Nineteen of us exited proud, with broad victory smiles from having faced danger and escaping unscathed. One man exits, his eyes downcast. “No more fuckin’ fer him, huh?” Brock commented as we dressed.

“Not as a top, anyway,” Jimmy joked.

Back at the table with a fresh round of beer, Brock was still babbling about it. “Man…that was such a rush! I’m gonna go again!”

Jimmy and I smiled knowingly, having felt the same way after the first time we’d played. Putting yourself in that kind of a risky situation and coming out unscathed would give anybody a rush. Brock just babbled on and on about it.

An hour passed, and Jimmy and I just watched Brock go on the next one. He waved to us behind the glass, his thick meat trapped and in danger, but when the light stopped, it was on a guy down the line. Brock almost looked disappointed, but came back flushed and excited as ever. The bartender announced the 2AM game; there would only be one more.

We waited a minute for Brock to get back from the bathroom, and I started listening to the three guys talking at the table behind me. Rednecks all three, thick and burly, well-muscled from lives of physical labor. “Come on, man, let’s try it,” one with a handlebar moustache was trying to persuade the others to play. Apparently it was the first time here for all three of them.

A guy with a red bandanna tied around his head answered, “Hell, no. I don’t want my dick cut off, man. I like havin’ my thick ol’ sausage.”

“Yeah,” the third, a Latino guy with a short black goatee, chimed in. “Why you wanna risk your dick, man? You won’t be able to fuck the bitches anymore.”

“Aw, come on, only one guy’ll lose his dick,” Handlebars replied. “Odds are slim it’ll be any of us. What are you two, pussies?”

“Man, nobody calls me a pussy,” Bandanna growled.

“Yeah, man, fuck you!” Goatee slurred, a little tipsy. “I ain’t no pussy.”

“Then prove it, man. Go up there with me,” Handlebars said to Bandanna, and to Goatee, “and you got nuthin’ to bet anyway. I’ve seen that thing you call a dick, man.”

Bandanna growled. “Nobody calls ME a pussy,” he grumbled again. “Alright, asshole.”

“Little?” Goatee shouted. “LITTLE? My dick was big enough for your mom.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Handlebars worked him. “Just let us go.”

“No, fuck you, I’m goin’!” Goatee shouted.

The three marched up and got in line with a few other giddy contenstants. I had been leaning toward skipping this one, but had a weird hunch about those three, so joined Brock and Jimmy for the game. We got in line right behind them, and filed into the backroom to strip down.

Behind the bar they all stand next to each other. I took the spot next to Handlebars, with Brock next to me and Jimmy on his other side. I tried checking out the 'necks and I noticed them looking at the others’ erections. Handlebars’ dick is bigger than his buddies by a good couple of inches, I would guess, and thicker, too - a real impressive piece of meat. Bandanna was pretty average, but I could see they really weren’t joking about Goatee - he did have a real little dick, not much bigger than my middle finger, and balls the size of peanuts. I didn’t get much of a chance to look before he shoved it into the metal trap. His face was bright red, probably ashamed about having such a tiny little dick.

The red light came on, and the stragglers all stuck their cocks in the traps. “Here we go,” Brock beamed.

The intercome crackled with the voice of the bartender. “Alright, boys, this roulette’s gonna be a Fifty-fifty Special.”

“Fifty-fifty Special?” Brock asked. “What’s that?” Other guys around the room were asking their buddies too. Even I get nervous. I’d heard of this but never been here for it. “They only do it once a month, at random,” I explained. “Instead of one guy losing his shit, half of us will.”

“Oh, shit,” Brock muttered, then got that mischevious smile on his face. He was getting off on the odds, it was clear.

I looked back over to look at the rednecks, who were looking at each other, wide-eyed. “Oh, shit,” Bandanna muttered. We all wondered which half of us would leave with cocks, and which half would leave without.

We started hearing the clicks and watching the faces of the crowd outside, now cheering even louder for their buddies in with us. My heart beat faster. “Oh, man,” I thought. “I sure hope I don’t lose this one.” My eyes scanned the row of us, seeing panic in most all of our eyes.

After a few minutes, we hear the clicks. I exhale and open my eyes. Next to me, Bandanna’s sobbing, tears running as cum is shooting past him from Goatee, who’s only using two fingers to jerk his little weiner. Handlebars is looking down at Goatee with a relieved smile, his thick sausage still spurting all over his newly-dickless buddy’s stomach.

I looked over at Brock and Jimmy. Brock, was fondling his balls like mad, trying desperately to cum, rubbing the end of his brand-new cock stump with his thumb. Finally he managed it, slumping against the glass as thick white jizz dribbled out his new stump and ran down his hairy nutsac. I looked up at Jimmy, and saw that he was just staring at my crotch with wide eyes. He still had a cock, still hard and leaking. My heart suddenly sank; I’d been too into Brock and the rednecks that I hadn’t even looked at myself yet. Slowly I turned my eyes down, afraid of what I’d see.

There it was. Just a stump, leaking sticky hot cum down over my nutsac. I looked up to see Jimmy, eyes still locked on my crotch, jerking himself off again. Holy shit. I’d finally lost. My cock was gone. I was dickless.

The men started to file out of the room, but I just stood there, a little shocked, staring at my new cockstump. Jimmy patted me on the shoulder. “Look at the bright side - we’ll only use half as many rubbers now.”

I tried to laugh a little, and filed out with the rest of them. In the backroom we were all checking each other out. Most of the newly dickless men just pulled their pants up and left as fast as they could, but I hung back with Jimmy and Brock, checking the other guys out. Brock seemed almost proud that his cock was gone, checking himself out in the dirty mirror, attracting the glances of a lot of guys turned on by the muscular young guy showing off his truncated stump.

Goatee was taunting Bandanna. “I’m gon’ fuck you goooood, dickless,” he smiled. Bandanna looked to be on the verge of tears. Handlebars was watching Brock show off in the mirror, rubbing the front of his jeans slowly.

We headed back out to the bar. I could feel my jeans rubbing against the end of my stump…it was turning me on something fierce. “So how’s it feel?” Jimmy asked. “It hurt?”

I rubbed my crotch a bit. “Not too bad,” I grinned. “Guess I’m gonna be a permanent bottom now, huh?”

“You guys wanna head on out or stick around for a bit?” Jimmy asked.

“Let’s stay for another beer,” Brock suggested, returning Handlebar’s looks. Less than a beer later, Brock had his arm around Handlebars, and told us he’d ride with his new catch.

Jimmy didn’t lose his cock that night, but he did a few months later. The three of us still hit up the Corral every now and again, and when we’re lucky we get to take a new guy, cheering him on his first time up there, his cock in moral peril.

(This is very loosely based on a story I read years ago on the EA, but I can’t cite it as I don’t have access there anymore.) Drunk, high, horny, hard and feeling awesome, Josh was walking around naked with his buddies, all of them shaved down, oiled up and having a great time. They’d been planning this party for months, making sure they had the perfect spot for it - Rizzo’s parent’s swanky vacation house - and all the drugs and booze they could possibly want.  Everybody was there by eight and had his catheter in by nine, when they’d all put the bands on their cocks.  Two bands per guy, right up at the base.  

They’d hurt like hell, but all the guys were old hands at coming up with ways to distract themselves from the pain.  A few popped some Lidocaine shots, but Josh liked the idea of feeling the pain.  Like all the guys’ dicks, his had quickly come to a fuller erection than naturally possible, then rapidly turned purplish as the blood got trapped inside.  His cock itself rapidly went numb, but the pain at its base stayed with him.  Josh bore it with a smile, especially after popping some of those pills Rizzo had given him, and was getting more and more excited as midnight approached.  Once they’d cut the bands off, they’d be jerking it for hours, balls churning with amazing cum.  It never failed.

He ran into Eddie in the hallway, the short Italian stumbling in the darkness inbetween rooms.  "Yo, Josh,“ he grinned, grabbing at Josh’s cock as he came close, gripping his buddy’s shoulder to steady himself.

"Yo Ed,” Josh grinned, standing firm and holding his buddy off, letting him play with his junk.  

“Damn, startin’ t'get cold,” Eddie grinned.  "Can’t wait t'see that fucker’s bands pop.  You gonna holler…“

Josh grabbed for Eddie’s thick cock too, feeling up the plump veins and odd coolness.  "I’m not the only one, bro,” Josh gave it a few strokes.

“I can’t wait, man.  I wanna cum so bad!” he stumbled for moment, then threw his hands up in the air.  "Woo!“

The guys had been banding their dicks since they were teenagers.  They’d get together, band up and play video games or something for a bit, then after a few hours, snip ‘em off, all laughing at how much it fuckin’ hurt, then circle-jerking it afterward, having amazing cums.

Josh had always been thinking about his being cut off.  When they’d be fooling around, trying to ignore the pain of the bands, he’d be pretending he was dickless already, and so were all his buddies, and when they jerked off after snipping the bands, he’d always be thinking about cutting them all off. Some of their friends had lost interest in the banding during college, and a few new faces started showing up at their summer and winter break band-and-jerk-it parties.  Even after college they’d continued, with most of the guys showing up whenever they could.

He found Ben and Eric in the kitchen around one of the kegs.  Josh filled up, the three guys all taking each other’s cocks in hand, feeling how cold and full they were.  Ben had his long foreskin pulled up through the band, and even it was swollen and plump, pulled back over the bulbous round head, now dark and purplish, as was Eric’s torpedo-shaped cockhead.  And Josh’s; they all noted.

"Yo, check this out,” Eric smirked, taking a two-inch pin and pushing it through the shaft of his cock.  A bead of blood popped free, then Eric let it go, leaving it in.  Josh looked to see he had three other pins in there already.

“Damn…” Josh almost asked if it hurt, but knew full well that with the band, it probably didn’t.

“C'mon, man, try one.  Not like matters if we fuck 'em up now, right?” Eric offered Josh a pin.  Josh could only see one pin in Eric’s dick, right through the head.

“Nah, that’s cool,” Josh chuckled, but spied the corkscrew on the table.  He thought about it…just twist it up in there, start boring out gore…but no, it would just make a mess.  "Gonna hit the pool.“  He made his way out the big glass doors to the enclosed pool area, where most of the party guests stood about.  All were nude, catheters poking out the end of their purple, banded dicks.  The invite rule had been that any dude showing up had to get his cock banded, so it wasn’t like there were a lot of girlfriends or hangers-on.

Josh scanned the room, recognizing most of the guys, having known them for years, except for one -  a tall, handsome, muscled guy with a dark ponytail, standing next to Brett.  Brett had said his boyfriend Rob would be coming, and Josh was impressed - his bro had sure scored himself a catch!  Especially if the guy was into banding, too, and indeed, his impressive package was done up like all the rest of them, purple and swollen.

He made the rounds, all the guys wanting a cop on their buddies’ cocks and watching the clock.  Josh made sure to give Rob’s cock a good and thorough feel, which the guy took with good humor.  "I’ve kinda gotten used to it,” he joked.

“Awesome that you’re gettin’ banded with us, man,” Josh told him sincerely.

“Glad to, man,” he hugged Brett close.  "Anything for this guy.“

"Aww,” Josh winked, but was genuinely glad for his bud.  He continued back into the house, seeing they had forty-five minutes to go, and he wanted to empty his bladder again.  Kevin was in there when he opened the door, standing in front of the toilet, pissing out the cath.  Josh squeezed in next to him, intentionally bumping him a little.

“Ass,” Kevin slapped Josh’s, and shook out his tube.  

Josh opened up the valve and let fly, the pressurized piss squirting out.  He glanced over to Kev’s strangled cock, a thick five-incher, and imagined just taking a knife to it, cutting the thing off…man, if only we could, he wished for the millionth time.

When they left, Kev headed back toward the pool, but Josh noticed the door to Rizzo’s bedroom was open and he could hear voices inside - low talking, some laughing, and then a loud “OW!  FUCK!”  He walked over to poke his head in, but Eddie opened the door.  The bright light inside made Josh go blind for a moment.  "Yo,“ Eddie gave Josh’s cock a tug and his ass a pat as he squeezed by him.

"Hey, Josh,” he heard Rizzo say warmly.

Josh blinked a few times and looked inside Rizzo’s bedroom.  Rizzo was in there, standing next to a table with a tray on it.  A pile of dildos rested on the tray.  AJ was passed out on the bed.  "Hey, man,“ Rizzo grinned.  

"Yo, Rizzo.  I was wondering where you’d been all night,” Josh grinned, stumbling over to him.  He looked over to AJ, the muscular football player out cold on the bed.  "You fuck him to sleep?“

"Little tough, now,” Rizzo winked.  Josh looked down, intending to stroke his bud’s dick, but found…nothing.  Just a little fleshy lump where Rizzo’s dick had been, with his big ol’ nuts hanging beneath it.

Josh blinked.  "No way,“ he muttered, then looked again: still just a stub.

 "Dude…” he looked up to see Rizzo with that shit-eating grin on his face again.  "Did…did you…“

"Yeah, bro,” Rizzo answered in his slow drawl.  "Check it,“ he picked up one of the "dildos” off the tray, but Josh could see now they weren’t dildos at all - those were five cocks, severed clean, the ends banded!  And shit, he recognized…that was Eddie’s, and those other two still had pins in them - they had to Eric and Ben’s!  

Rizzo dangled his own dick in front of Josh’s face.  "Fuckin’ hot, bro.  Hurts, but not too bad, and I’ve gotten real good at stitchin’ up the stump,“ Rizzo thumped his round little stub, the end of the cath still sticking out, with the head of his dick. Josh nearly shot right there.  He couldn’t believe it…he’d dreamed about this for years, fantasized for so long, and Rizzo…holy fuck, he’d cut his dick off…and Eddie’s…and Ben’s, and Eric’s, and…  Josh looked over to the passed out football player and realized who the owner of the fifth cock was.  And AJ.  "Is…is he ok?” Josh nodded toward their boy.

“Yeah,” Josh chuckled.  "After he cut his dick off, he did a shot.  That’s what did him in.  I’m keepin’ an eye on him.  But now, about you…“

"You want to cut my dick off, don’t you?” Josh looked his buddy in the eye, trying to keep his head about him, but that was tough when everything seemed to be breathing.

“Nah, bro.  I want you to,” Rizzo picked up a bloody knife, wiped it clean, and handed it, hilt first, to Josh.  

He reached out and took it.  Holy fuck, this was it…what he’d dreamt about.  Josh held the knife down toward his cock.  "Over here,“ Rizzo put a hand on Josh’s ass and pushed him over toward the tray with the cocks on it, just high enough that Rizzo could push his hips toward it, his balls over the edge of the table but his cock on it.  "Between the bands,” Rizzo guided his hand, moving the blade of the knife over to Josh’s cock.  "When you’re ready, tilt the point down 'til it touches, then just push your hand down as fast as you can.  It’ll sting but not too bad.“

Josh just nodded, his eyes locked on his cock, and the five others on the tray.  The knife tip drooped down toward the table until it just touched.  Just one push, one motion, and his cock would join the others on the tray.  And he would join Rizzo and AJ and the others, he’d be dickless, like he’d dreamed.  Just one push.  One…quick…motion.

He breathed in sharply and tried not to cry out when the pain came, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them for just long enough to see his cock lying on the tray before Rizzo made him turn and got to work on Josh’s new stump.  Josh just stood there in shock, his head turned, staring at his severed cock.  He reached over to pick it up.  It felt cold still, like it had for a few hours, but now…even colder, somehow.  The band kept the blood trapped inside, with little leaking out the cut end, and the whole thing was plump, turgid.

Something gripped him, and he didn’t know why, but Josh raised it to his mouth, opening slightly. He’d never sucked a dick before, but something about his own…he licked it, feeling the texture with his tongue, running it up underneath, pushing it in a little more…three inches in and he pulled it out, then in and out a few times again, just getting the feel for it.  He pulled it out, a thread of spit connecting his lips to his cock for a moment before breaking.

"There you go, bud.  Nice and tight,” Rizzo leaned back and stood up, tearing open a disinfectant pad and dabbing Josh’s new stump, tightly stitched up with half an inch or so of catheter poking out.  The stump ached, then went numb after Rizzo shot him up with some painkiller.  His buddy wrapped him up with some tight stick-on bandages, and Josh was good to go.

Josh stumbled back out to the living room, his balls swinging, the stump of his dick aching a little bit.  Everybody was already agog looking at Eric, Ben and Eddie, who stood proudly in the middle of the crowd, showing off their new cockstumps.  "Wow, Josh, too!“ somebody pointed, and they all looked over to see Josh, dickless and smiling sheepishly.

The other three dickless guys slapped his back and congratulated him, while everybody else jockeyed to ge a close look.  "Did it hurt?” they asked.

“Not really.”

Some of the crowd drifted back toward Rizzo, eager to lose their own cocks, while others stayed up front.  Brett ate out his ass while his hot boyfriend Rob sucked on his nuts, and Josh faded in and out a bit, seeing more dickless dudes every time he looked around.

“I dunno, man,” he heard Rob say beneath him.

“C'mon, let’s do it together!” Brett cajoled him, the two conversing beneath Josh’s legs.

“Can…can I cut yours off?” Rob asked, clearly not taking much convincing.

“If I can lop off that big log of yours,” Brett kissed him, the two making out with Josh’s balls resting on the back of Rob’s head.  They stood up.  "Hey, back in a few minutes, bro,“ they slapped Josh’s ass.

“Nnnnnngggggg-ah!” I grunted, hefting up the bar one last time, then letting out a big sigh as it dropped back down onto the rack.  I sat up, panting and sweaty, glad to be done with my workout and even happier I’d pushed out a few more reps than usual.  Marked it down in my book, got to my feet and wiped down the bench, taking a last few minutes to put all the plates back. I always did that, even though it seemed like nobody else did.  The two other big dudes in the gym just glared at me from the corner.  I avoided eye contact, sighing a little.  It had always been like this, since junior high.  Other guys into gettin’ big would say nice things on the floor, we’d start to get friendly, and then they’d see me in the showers, and boom.  Sudden hostility.  It was still disappointing…every gym I’d been to, all the big dudes seemed to know each other, would spot each other n’ stuff, but they’d always exclude me. And, of course, it was pretty clear why.  Some guys would kill to have a dick like mine, but it’s really only good for jerking and as a showpiece.  The other big guys, even if they were just average-hung, would always get jealous over it and super-shitty to me all of sudden.  I’d try hiding it, never letting the towel drop, but guys would still see it, word would get around, and boom.  Nobody would talk to me, except to make shitty passive-aggressive comments. I knew I shouldn’t let it get me down, but you can only get called “donkey dick” so many times behind your back before it starts stinging a little to be referenced solely by a body part.  I could take getting that when I went to a bar, where people were out for sex anyway, but the only people not scared off the by the thing were big-dick fetishists who would just treat me as a body part again.  Worst of all, it wasn’t like I could _do_ a lot with the thing - I was way too big to fuck or even get much of a blow.  Jerking it was fun, but that was about all I could do with the thing.  I’d been fucked a few times myself, but never get off on it, which didn’t leave me with much of a love life. Out of the shower, I pulled my jockeys up under my towel, then faced the wall while I got my pants on - loose sweats - and headed out of there, glad to be done with all of my obligations for the week.  I had nothing planned for this weekend and had had a rough week at work, so decided to text my favorite weed dealer on the way home.  I smoked every now and then, not too much, and tonight, figured I’d earned a little.

Back at my place, I’d just tossed my gym bag’s contents into the laundry when the buzzer rang, and I grinned, seeing my favorite delivery man on the video.  I buzzed him up, looking forward to seeing that buff, tight body in the skintight underarmor shirts and lycra shorts he always wore, tightly outlining his own thick sausage and nicely-stuffed sac, all kept perfectly smooth and hairless.   I’d been calling him for a few years, a friend having given me the number.  He’d been maybe nineteen then, and had just started getting into lifting himself.  He’d asked me tons of questions, and I’d encouraged him when he’d started to make real progress.  When I answered the door shirtless once, he’d talked me into hitting some poses for him, and he’d squeezed my arms a little.  "Dude, I’m straight and all, but man…you’re just awe-inspiring,“ he’d told me at the time, clearly hard. I’d gotten off on it myself, and over the next few months we’d gone into the full-bore muscle worship stuff.  In addition to the squeezing, he’d started always wanting to measure my arms or legs or something.  I’d started buzzing him up while only wearing my posing briefs, and he’d seen how huge my package was.  He’d insisted on measuring that, too, and ever since then, I’d started just answering the door in the nude.   I’d talked him into letting me measure him back, to use as a motivational tool, and apparently it had worked.  When he had time, he loved stripping down to get measured, eagerly showing off and grinning as the numbers kept going up.  Turned out he had a real nice dick himself, a good thick ten-incher, but we never fooled around - just occasionally sharing a bowl and jerking off on each other, and even that only a few times. Today, I was pumped, showered and freshly waxed.  He was shirtless, in loose khaki shorts for a change, but showing off his own toned, muscular torso and thick arms.  He’d gotten a lot bigger since I’d known him (and was still growing), but he was still only half my size.   "Hey, man,” he grinned, hefting up his backpack.  "Lookin’ good, bud,“ he reached out squeeze an arm, and I gave him a bicep flex.  "Sadly, my stash isn’t,” he unzipped it his bag.  "Only really got the ditch stuff today,“ he apologized, spreading out some baggies of weed that didn’t look too great, all brown and dry-looking. "Well…wait, what are those?” I pointed at some with yellow stickers that I saw in the bag still, one of them taped back shut after having been torn open. “Oh, uh…well…” he pushed a few of them out.  They looked good, covered in little red hairs.  "These are some great weed, but turns out they’ve been laced with something.  I had a few puffs, and, uh…well, here, just look.“  He undid his shorts and dropped them a bit.  He wasn’t wearing any underwear, but that thick schlong I’d always enjoyed sucking on and being fucked by looked like it had pulled up in him a bit - it was definitely shorter.  "Fuckers must have laced it with dick-shrinker.”   Rival drug syndicates had been doing that lately, trying to discredit their competitors.  Stories in the media had told of drugs being found laced with all sorts of crazy things ranging from mildly annoying to super-shitty.  He had his own sources, though, and prided himself on never having sold any tainted stuff. “Damn, dude…” I reached out to touch it, so used to being naked around him that it didn’t occur to me to ask.  "It still works okay, though, right?“  Luckily, he didn’t seem to be offended, and just stood there watching as I gave it a few strokes, feeling it start to firm up.  The torpedo head was still like it always was, and he hardened up nice and easy, but at full boner he only had about seven inches of shaft, down from nine or so!  I let go and stood back up, feeling my own cock hardening up, poking out in front of me…now nearly twice as big as his! "Yeah, it all still works,” he shrugged, pulling his pants back up, “s'just a little smaller.  Kind of embarrassing, though…s'why I’m in the baggy shorts, you know?  Anyway…you can have it for free if you really want it,” he shrugged, unable to hide his slight blush.  "Just don’t tell anybody it came from me; it would fuck my reputation.“ "Huh…” I thought about it for a minute, rubbing my dick.  Smoke some weed and get a smaller dick?  That didn’t sound like bad thing at all to me.  "Fuck it.  I can stand to lose a few inches.  Gimme two of those.“ "You sure, bud?” he raised a shaven brow.  "You know it doesn’t grow back, right?“ "Yeah.  It’s cool,” I nodded.  "I like the idea.  Too big t'fuck now, as it is.“  I counted out the cash and handed it to him, then went ahead and broke open one of the containers to break up some of the weed, a little nervous and excited. "Dude…I never thought a dude hung like you would wanna give it up.  I love havin’ a big dick, but…fuck…” he unzipped his shorts again, his boner coming back to full erection, “you gotta let me watch, man.  I totally wanna shrink your dick.” “Sure,” I shrugged, packing the bowl. “Hold on, lemme measure some,” he pulled a cloth tape measure out of his backpack.  I stood a moment and let him measure my cock, flexing those muscles to make it plump out as big as possible.  "Fuck, man, twelve and a half.  I swear, you’ve got the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.“ "Not for long,” I sparked the bowl, taking it rapidly, in a few big pulls.  The weed tasted fine, no real difference from the normal stuff, and my head got good and fuzzy right away - good stuff! “Alright, gimme a double-biceps pose,” he winked, snapping his tape measure. I grinned, standing up straight and going into the pose, legs at shoulder distance apart, back straight, arms up and flexed, looking straight ahead, fake grin.  We had a few poses he’d have me hit, like I was up on stage, fake smile and all, and would measure me as I hit them.  I’d try my best to stay hard the whole time, unlike when I was actually onstage, and desperatly hoping my posing briefs would hold.  Today was no different, but I did keep wanting to look down and see if it was working yet. “Nope,” he lightly slapped me on the cheek when I’d try.  "Look up.“  Also part of our routine - I liked to pretend to be a dumb animal.  Not getting to look was kind of a turn-on, though, especially when, after measuring my arms, he decided I needed another bowl.  "Not small enough yet, bro,” he’d said, packing another bowl while keeping an eye on me to make sure I didn’t look.  I could feel it pretty well, though, and couldn’t be all that much smaller yet. “Gimme a most-muscular.”  I pulled my arms down, pumping my fist into my other hand down at my groin, pecs and delts popping.  I imagined how I looked standing there, flexing, pumped, shiny…eyes red and droopy…dick shrinking.  I could feel it, all tight down there, like it was trying to burst out of the skin.  There was a hot warmth all though my dick even up inside me, and a pulling from within.  I could definitely feel it pulling up in there but couldn’t tell how much.  I wondered how small he’d make it.  What did he think was the appropriate size for me, anyway?  It was pretty obvious he’d wanna be bigger than me, so down to at least seven inches.  That would be pretty good, I figured, and if I felt it getting too small, it’s not like I had to smoke it.   “No looking down,” he slapped me lightly on the cheek again.  "Bad boy!“ "Yessir!” I snapped back up, staring ahead like I was supposed to.  I couldn’t really complain; I was the one who’d told him about a million times that looking down was the most common mistake guys made in their posing routines. “Just for that you need another one,” he packed me another bowl and held it up to my lips.  I inhaled it when he told me to, holding it in and exhaling.  "Good boy,“ he said as I finished it.  I glowed…it was weird…normally I wouldn’t care, but him calling me that made me feel oddly good…probably just ‘cuz I was high, but…I wanted to be a good boy.  "Victory,” he ordered. I raised my arms in the air, feet together, head slightly tilted back, gut in.  He checked my pecs again, then ran the tape around my midsection in a few places, cooing appreciatively.  "Another quarter inch this week.  Good boy!“ he’d say, and I’d glow.  "Thigh n’ calf,” he ordered, and I changed pose. “Yeah…real nice,” he muttered, measuring my thighs, my calves, my glutes.  "Gettin’ better…good boy…“  He wasn’t really even saying it to me, just saying it more to himself, but I could still feel myself glow at the comment.  Usually I’d say something back like, "Yeah, been workin’ on 'em” or something, but we didn’t usually have this whole submissive dynamic, so I stayed silent.  "Hmm…hammies haven’t gotten any bigger, though.  You need to work on those, boy.“ "Yessir,” I muttered, making the mental note.  I did always have a problem with them. “Oh, you lost your boner.  That’s not good,” he looked down at it.   Crap, I’d lost concentration and let it go down.  I got it hard again in a few seconds but I felt like an idiot for having lost it. “Bad boy.  You’ll need another bowl, then,” he held it up to my lips. I sighed, but in my current submissive headspace, he was right - punishment via further de-masculation was appropriate.  I took a long pull, coughing a little but returning immediately to my pose, feeling my package tighten again. “Bend over the couch,” he ordered, “and let me get at those glutes.”  This one was new, but I did it, legs apart, toes pointed in, ass spread open and ready.  He took a few measurements, but I think he felt what he needed to do, and I felt his cock bump up against my ass in a few places.  He seemed hesitant to put it in.  "I shrank your dick, bro…big dude, bigger'n me, and now you’re smaller there…measured in at six and a half.  I made ya smaller'n me…“  He pressed it against my asshole, taking one big breath before finally just sliding the damn thing in.   I took it, grunting a little, clearly not used to it - and I wasn’t; even down a few inches he was still bigger then any guy who’d ever fucked me before.  "Oh, good boy,” he said to me, and I felt my ass just relax, letting him in as I felt the brief rush of pleasure. He felt just as big as ever, if maybe with a slightly faster rythym now.  I ground back against him, helping him get his cock all the way up in me, hitting my spot.  "Yeah…nice…“ he panted, gripping my muscled ass and pulling into me, again and again until he finally blew his load into a man’s ass for the first time. "Good boy,” he panted, pulling the rubber off, his cock flopping back down between his legs.  "Damn, bro…never fucked a dude before,“ he shook his head, still seeming amazed he’d done it.  "Somethin’ about shrinkin’ ya down, man…fuck, that made me feel powerful as hell.  You’re such a fuckin’ beast and I fucked you in the ass without even a peep from ya,” he looked up at me, smirking.  "I knew you was queer but didn’t think you’d be such an easy hole t'bitch out.“ For a moment I felt a flash of anger, but, then, it was gone as soon as it came, replaced with just a sinking feeling.  He had made me his bitch, kinda…he’d shrank my manhood and then fucked me good.  If that didn’t count, not much would.  I just hung my head.  "Yeah, I guess so,” I’d said, sounding dour. “Aww, it’s okay.  You were a real good boy.”  I looked up, the smile spreading across my face.  "And, you know,“ he winked as he pulled his shorts back up, "I get off at two tonight.  I killed at the gym this week, gonna want you t'measure me, an’, uh…if you’re good maybe I’ll fuck ya again,” he smirked. “Yessir,” I’d grinned stupidly, high as a kite and still glowing from the fucking. “Then seeya at two.  Be a good boy and smoke some more of that before I get back,” he winked, snagging his backpack and heading out the door in a rush. After he left I stayed naked, getting a kick out of it, at some dinner and crashed on the couch, my muscles sore and still pretty high.  I watched TV for most of the rest of the night, stoned out of my mind and playing idly with my shrunken boner.  I measured it once I could get hard again - six and a half inches, just like he’d said!  Still a big around as ever, looking like a soda can sticking out of my crotch, but I loved it.  It was half what it had been; it was…average!  I grinned, thinking how awesome it was going to be to have a cock I could fuck with.  Maybe if I showed it off a little I could lose the nicknames, too.  I hadn’t been this happy since I broke 800 on the squat! Around ten I got a text from my guy.  He’d never sent me one before unless I’d called him over, so was a little puzzled when I went to read it.  All it said was, “Be a good boy”.  I grinned, chuckling a little.  That had been fun, I thought, my eyes darting over to the half-empty baggie.  I felt the impulse to have some, but hesitated.  "Eh…what’s another inch or so?“ I figured, and packed up another bowl.  Average was 5.2, so I could stand to lose another inch, right?  Once the tightness subsided, I measured again - 5.4.  Not bad. Then again around midnight.  "Be a good boy.”  I was still kind of high from the last time, and just did it without really thinking about it, high enough that I forgot to measure my dick afterward.   I mostly forgot about it, just lazing around the couch watching TV, and almost didn’t even notice when the buzzer rang.  Once I did, I lurched to my feet, my body feeling huge and heavy, and stumbled over to hit the door button.  I opened my front door an inch or two, then stumbled back over to the couch. The door opened a minute later and he came in.  "Hey there, boy,“ he said to me, still wearing what he had been earlier, his shirt tucked into the belt of his shorts.  "You been good?” “Yessir,” I nodded, grinning, my tongue feeling heavy and making me lisp a little bit. “So where’re we at?” he asked rhetorically, coming over near me, his eyes locked on my crotch.  "Yeah, looks a lot smaller,“ he grinned.  "You were a good boy.”  I felt that little rush and grinned widely.  "I still think you need another bowl or two, though,“ he nodded toward the weed.  Obediently, I started crumbling some up, packing it and sparking it.  "Good boy,” he nodded.  I loved that feeling so much.  "Now hop up n’ get hard; I wanna get some pictures.“ I got up to my feet and reached down, not looking at how small it was now, just feeling that there was barely anything left to my cock.  "Hit some poses, boy,” he ordered, so I grinned and flexed my arms while he took pictures.  "Yeah, real nice and small…barely a dick at all, boy.  Real good.“  I hit some more poses, he took some more pictures.  Once he was finished he unzipped his pants and said, "On your knees and open up.” Normally I’d have laughed, or maybe smacked him one, but I just couldn’t help myself.  I needed to obey him, to have that dick in my mouth the moment I saw it.  My knees buckled and I gazed up at him, his nice seven-incher jutting out above me, and opened up.  "Yeah, take it, boy,“ he said as I took his cock in my mouth.  "Suck the cock of the man who destroyed yours.  Suck your master’s dick, slaveboy.”  I looked up at him for a moment as he said it.  "Yeah, that’s right, slaveboy.  You know you are.  You need to serve a real cock, doncha boy?“ "Mmmffmf,” I nodded, already knowing it was true.  Fuck, it was totally true…I felt like a total slave, like I just needed to obey him and his man-cock, the symbol of his authority.  I’d let him take mine from me, my great staff now barely a twig, and so deserved this, deserved to be humbled and humiliated before him. He pulled his cock out so I could take another hit, then another, and it happened while I was sucking him.  It was just a tingle at first, a little tickle around my tiny cockhead, and then a pressure as it pulled back further, my internal cock tissues tightening up even further, and then, with a pop, it slipped inside!  I couldn’t feel my balls at all anymore, just the tingly feeling as my little cockhead rubbed against the skin of the fold it had made as it pulled up in me. I shuddered a little as it happened, and he noticed, pulling out and looking down.  "Stand up,“ he ordered, cock sticking out proudly.  I did, keeping my head respectfully bowed, staring at his boner.  He was more interested in my crotch, bending down to peer at it closely.  He stuck a finger up inside the little pucker, feeling my cockhead just inside, then pulled the skin apart with his fingers to get a look at it.  "Oh, it’s so cute and perfect,” he slapped my ass.  "Back on your knees, dickless slaveboy,“ he ordered, and I went right back to sucking on his luscious cock, glowing.   I couldn’t have been happier.  Not only was I dickless, but, even better, he had called me his slave!

“Man, I’m horny,” Jack muttered, then instantly regretted it.

Chris immediately piped up with the suggestion Jack knew he’d make. “So let me castrate you,” he answered.

“Dude, I don’t want you to cut my shit off,” Jack shot back, annoyed. Chris had been pestering him to let him cut his balls off for at least a month now, and it was getting annoying. “Does anybody actually take you up on that?”

“Then stop bitching about it, man. You don’t want him to fix your problem, then shut up about it,” Ryan broke in.

“Fuck, Ryan, if you’re so hot on ‘fixing the problem,’ then why don’t you let him cut your balls off?” Jack sighed, trying not to get mad. They did have a point; he did kinda bitch about not getting laid much lately.

“I did.” Ryan grabbed his crotch. “Cock, too.”

“What?” Jack looked back over at Ryan. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Chris countered. “He finally saw the light last week.”

“Yeah. He’s good, Jack, you ought to let him do it. It’s nice, all nice n’ smooth down there.” Ryan pressed his hand into his own groin, rubbing it gently, and Jack could see that indeed there must not have been anything left in his roommate’s pants.

“No thanks, guys … I’ll deal with the frustration.” Jack just sat back to watch the TV.

* * *

Chris had gotten way into the self-help section at their local bookstore, always thinking this next new system would instantly solve all his problems. When he’d first told them he’d castrated himself they all laughed.

“No, check it out,” he’d said, then dropped his pants. Jack had been pretty familiar with his boy’s dick; he’d seen it enough times, but now the landscape had totally changed. Chris’ crotch was flat like a woman’s, but without even a twat to break it up. They’d asked why he’d done it, and he gave them all kinds of reasons in the gobbledygook pseudopsychological babble of his self-help books. None of it made much sense to Jack.

Apparently he’d learned how to do it, if his own body was any indication. Since he’d castrated himself, he’d been insufferable about it, trying to get the two of them to “let” him remove their manhood, and going on and on and on about how much better his life had gotten, blah blah blah. Apparently Ryan had finally gotten sick of the nagging.

* * *

A week later the three of them were hanging out with their buddies Dan, Ollie, and Matt, watching a football game on TV. One of the announcers commented on how this game was one of the quarterbacks’ first since having his genitals removed.

“It’s becoming more and more common for athletes, Jim,” the other announcer explained for the benefit of the TV audience. “Some franchises are even starting to require it in their linemen, now – in fact, San Diego, Denver, and New York just announced Tuesday that they’ll having their entire teams cut in the next few weeks.”

“So, Ryan, what’s it like havin’ yer shit cut off?” Ollie smiled, a little buzzed from the cheap beer they were drinking. He reached up his shirt and scratched his hairy belly. Jack groaned inwardly, not wanting this conversation to happen.

“Pretty good,” Ryan smiled. “You know … streamlined. Glad I did it. Why, you thinkin’ about it?”

“I dunno,” Ollie answered. “I like havin’ my dick.”

“Yeah, man. Don’t you guys like fucking?” Dan asked.

“It was cool and all but it’s not like I miss it that much … ” he answered.

Chris mumbled agreement. “You should let me do you,” he suggested.

“I’m gonna hit the can,” Jack stood up and stretched. He didn’t really want to have to listen to Chris and Ryan talk any more about how great it was not to have cocks or balls anymore. Jack strode out of the room, his guts gurgling a bit from the beer.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he came back out of the bathroom and found his seat in front of the TV. Only Ryan and Matt were in the room watching. “Where’d they all go?” Jack asked.

As if to answer his question, Ollie walked into the room, taking baby steps. He was completely naked, and Jack was annoyed to see that Ollie’s crotch was missing its payload. All that remained where his dick and balls had been was a row of little stitches and some band aids. “Man, this is weird,” he mumbled, and made his way over to the couch, where he flopped down.

“Aw, man, not you, too,” Jack said.

“What?” Ollie answered defensively. “I kinda like it,” he said, staring at his own groin and gingerly rubbing it with his hand.

Answering his earlier question, Ryan told Jack that the other two were in the kitchen. Jack wanted another beer, so headed in to get one. Dan was lying naked on the kitchen table, Chris stitching his groin up. Jack’s cock and balls lay next to Ollie’s severed genitals on a plate. “All done, man,” Chris told Dan as Jack pulled another beer out of the fridge. “Hey, Matt!” Chris called.

Jack stood and watched Dan get up, his buddy getting used to the feeling of not having any weight in his groin.

“My turn, huh?” Matt smiled as he walked into the room, pulling his shirt off. Dan got out of the way and Matt lay down on the table, spreading his legs a bit for Chris to get at his doomed manhood. Jack went back into the living room to watch the game.

By the middle of the fourth quarter, Chris had helped Matt hobble into the room and sit on the couch. Jack kept stealing looks at his three newly-castrated buddies sitting on the couch … they did look kinda hot.

“So Jack. I got all my stuff out. I could just do ya right now, get it over with,” Chris suggested again.

“Eeehhh … ” Jack sighed again, but then caught another glance at Ollie and Dan and Matt … man, it was hot … maybe …

“Come on, let me castrate you. Take that big thick ol’ dick off ya.”

“Yeah, Jack, let him do it. You’ll like it,” the others agreed, all trying to talk him into it. Jack looked around him, at all his hot buddies, all those hot bodies …

“Uhhh … ” Jack sighed. “Okay, fine.”

* * *

The next week Jack went into Chris’ room looking for some ointment. Fresh out of the shower, his skin was damp, and his stitches itched. He reached down to scratch it a little bit, being careful not to hit them.

Max and Jake squared off, nude, across the mat they’d set up in the house’s basement. This was the first time they’d wrestled in two weeks. He had to win this match - he’d lost four in a row, and was determined not to lose this one.

The young men circled around the center of the mat in a crouch, looking for an opening. Both were very well-built - each had been the others’ greatest rival since they were kids, and part of the reason they kept this little thing up was because it motivated them to work out as hard as they could. As a result, both had bodies to be proud of, lean, strong, and well-muscled.

They’d been doing their wrestling in the nude since high school, when they’d read about the ancient Greeks. It didn’t take long for their mutual hormones to lead to sex. Originally the deal was whoever lost got fucked, until they both realized they liked losing better. Now it went the other way: whoever lost had to top.

Five minutes later, Max had Jake pinned to the mat. “Think I got ya, buddy,” he grunted. “You know what that means.”

Jake relinquished and gave up. “Yeah, I guess so.” He got up on his knees behind Max, who got down on all fours and waited for Jake’s thick cock to push its way up his ass. His own cock stayed soft, as it always did when he was bottoming, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying himself.

Today Jake seemed a little distracted, and, well, he was. He went through the motions, thrusting and flexing, until finally Max moaned and clenched his asshole. Jake pulled out and the two sat on the mat for a moment to catch their breath. Max noticed Jake’s cock was still hard. “You not cum?” he asked, breathlessly.

“Nah. S'okay,” Jake answered, sounding a little depressed.

“Guess you’ll just have to try harder next time, huh?” Max smiled. “That or cut your dick off, I guess.”

Jake’s cock bobbed at the thought, and inside Jake felt that little pang of horny. “It would be nice not to have it, ya know?” he said, standing up, looking down at his own member. It was a perfectly good cock, long, hard, veiny. He just wished it was on somebody else.

“Yeah, but then you’d be horny all the time,” Max said with a wry grin. “What would you do when nobody’s around to fuck ya?” He hopped to his feet and pulled Jake in close, slowly massaging his buddy’s cock with his hand. Jake closed his eyes and leaned into his buddy, their sweaty muscles rubbing against each other. Jake thought about what it would be like, not having his dick, or if it fell off or something, and came within seconds.

Meanwhile, their roommates Alex and Ian were hanging out upstairs watching TV when a knock came at the door. Ian hopped up to answer it and found a big ol’ hunk of a delivery man waiting with a cardboard box. Ian did a double take opening the door; the guy’s arms and chest were about to burst out of the brown uniform shirt he wore. Beneath his tight shorts Ian admired his smooth, cut legs, wishing he could get HIS calves to separate like that.

“Package for Jake Robinson,” the guy rumbled in a deep, low voice.

“Yeah, I got it.” Ian signed the digital thingamaboob the guy offered. “Thanks.”

“Have a nice day,” the delivery got shot him a smile and quick wink.

Ian watched his bubble butt bob its way back out to the truck. “Not much of a bulge in the front,” he thought, “but what an ass!”

He turned to come back in. Alex was lounging on the couch in a pair of vinyl running shorts, cooling off from his run earlier. “What is it?”

“Something for Jake.” Ian opened the basement door and called down. “Yo Jake, you got a package!”

“I’ll say,” Max quipped downstairs. Jake shot him a dirty look. The two plodded up the stairs, every muscle aching. Their sweat and cum were already drying to their bodies, and when they came up into the cool air of the living room felt like a shell stuck to their skin.

Ian pointed to the box on the coffee table. Jake’s cock was still half-hard, and he joked, “Any of that left for the rest of us?” Jake just gave him the same dirty look he’d given Max, and looked at the box. The return address was just a PO box and there wasn’t any label.

“Hmm,” he hmmed aloud, and tore into the packing tape, wondering what it was. Inside he found a packing invoice and something wrapped up in bubble tape. When he saw the invoice, he knew what it was immediately. “Whoah,” he said out loud.

“What is it?” Max asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Jake had ordered this stuff on the internet on a lark when he was high. “Uhhh…” he answered, not wanting to admit that he’d ordered injectable dick remover. “It’s…umm…”

“Penis dissolver?” Max read the invoice out loud. Jake’s ears turned bright scarlet. “You got some dick shrinker?”

“Uhhh…yeah,” Jake sighed, expecting a torrent of abuse from his buddies for wanting to have his dick shrunken. The stuff had come out a year or two before. Jake had been thinking about it for months, but only managed to get the courage up to order it that night after he’d smoked that joint.

“Cool,” Max acted nonchalant.

“So how’s it work?” Alex asked, curious.

Jake read the instructions. “Ummm…it says to pull 2 cc’s into the provided syringe for every inch of erect length, five for each testicle, or just one for a nipple…” Ian reached over and started unwrapping the bubble tape, wondering what was inside. “And inject it into the base of your penis or into the nut or tit. Should take effect within a few minutes.” He scanned over all the safety warnings and lawsuit precaution language they put on the instructions, but it was just pointless legalese.

“So you only need like fifteen cc’s?” Alex asked. “Cuz they sent you like two hundred.”

“Huh?” Jake looked up, surprised. Alex was holding up two big vials of clear liquid, and there were three more in the box. Shit, Jake realized…while he’d been high and jerking off he must have ordered too much. “Ah well,” he shrugged, figuring it would be more of a pain in the ass to return it than it was worth.

“So you gonna use it?” Max asked.

Jake still felt pretty embarrassed. “Um…I dunno. Maybe later.”

“Aw, come on,” Ian whined. “I wanna watch.”

“So use it on yourself then,” Jake shot back, a little annoyed. “It’s not like there isn’t enough there.”

Then Ian really surprised him. “Really? Is that cool?”

Jake looked at his buddy, a little surprised. He hadn’t expected any of his buddies to understand why he’d ordered it even - that they’d want to use it themselves was a bit of a surprise! “Well…I guess. Okay, fine then, I’ll just do it now.”

Max and Alex sat forward on the couch to watch as Jake filled up two syringes. “Okay, I’m about seven,” he thought aloud, pulling fourteen cc’s of the stuff into the needle. “And you’re…” he glanced down at Ian’s cock, erect at the thought of its own demise. “You’re what, eight?”

“Nine, beeatch!” Ian joked, his cock bobbing up and down as he laughed. He grabbed his crotch and jerked his cock once or twice to keep it hard. “But put some extra in, I’m gonna shoot up my nuts, too.” Jake nodded and pulled twenty-eight cc’s into the second syringe, then handed that to Alex.

There were some alcohol pads in with the bubble tape. Jake broke them open and wiped the spot he was gonna inject off, and Ian did the same. “Okay, here goes!” They stuck their needles in and slowly depressed the plunger. The fluid ran into their cocks, making them swell a bit for a few seconds.

“Man, this is awesome,” Ian was bubbling. He took Jake’s dick in his fingers. “These’re never gettin’ hard again, bud!” He let go and bent back over to inject his balls, being careful to follow the instructions - five in each.

Max was already slowly beating himself watching, and Alex had his hands down his pants, fondling himself. “How long’s this stuff take again?” Max asked.

Jake checked the instructions again. “It just says a few minutes.”

“I think it’s already working,” Ian said, feeling his softening cock. “Look.” He showed them how he could already push his fingers together on opposite sides of his shaft and have them almost touch. “It’s all squishy already.”

Jake felt his own softening cock. “Yeah…kinda rubbery.” Max reached over and copped a feel. “What about your nuts?”

Ian pulled his cock up and they all took a look at his balls. Ian squeezed one gently. “A little squishy.”

“Man, this is turnin’ me on,” Max said, his cock hard as a rock again. “Yo Ian, have a seat,” he suggested, patting the tops of his thighs. Ian sauntered over and lowered himself onto Max’s dick, taking it in his ass slowly but easily. He closed his eyes and wiggled around a little on Max’s lap, enjoying the feeling. Max reached around and took Ian’s cock in hand, fondling it as he pushed against Ian’s weight.

Alex couldn’t handle it anymore and dropped his shorts, whipping his own member out. “Dude, you’re dick’s definitely shrinking,” he told Jake, who was well aware of that fact, not having taken his eyes off his own crotch since he’d pulled the needle out.

“Yeah,” he smiled, glowing with pleasure. Flaccid his dick had usually been four or five long but now looked more like he’d just come out of a freezing pool - no less thick but now barely the length of his thumb, just poking out above his low-hanging nuts. Jake took the head between his thumb and forefinger, feeling how soft and pliable the shaft was.

“Oooh, yeah,” Ian’s moan caused Jake to look at him. His cock wasn’t much bigger than Jake’s was at this point, and his balls looked like a ten-year-old’s, small and hanging tight up against Ian’s shrinking cock. They were shrinking so fast now that Alex and Jake could actually see them contracting, retreating back inside them. By the time his cock was little more than a head and his balls just peas stuck to the bottom, Ian cried, “I’m gonna cum, dude!”

By the sound of it, Ian was having the most intense orgasm ever, but only a few drops of pearly clear liquid leaked out of the pink end of his cockhead, now all that was left poking out of his crotch. When he finished, he stood up off Max, rubbing his groin with his hand. “Man, this is awesome,” he admired himself.

Jake was laying back on the couch, eyes closed, rubbing his head himself and playing with his heavy balls…yeah, he thought. I’ll never have to fuck again.

“Man, now what are we gonna do when I pin ya?” Max asked. Jake just waved his hand toward the vials in answer. “Don’t mind if I do,” Max said.

“What are you gonna do?” Alex asked.

Max pulled some stuff into the fresh needle. “Lessee…I got about what, seven and a half…” he did the math in his head, and pulled fifteen cc’s in.

“Keepin’ the balls, huh?” Alex asked.

“Sorta,” Max answered, gingerly pushing the needle into his dick. “I’m just gonna go about halfway. Too small to fuck but enough to jerk off with still, ya know?” He fed about eight cc’s into his cock, then about two and a half into each nut. “And now for these…” he shot himself up twice more, once in each tit. “Never did like these things,” he commented as he injected the second.

They watched as Max’s tits pulled in and began to turn the same color as the rest of his chest. His cock began to shrink down too, pulling further and further back up into him until seven and a half inches had been reduced to three, and his balls the size of marbles, now nestled up close under his short dick.

Alex got on all fours and got between Max’s legs, taking his now-three-inch cock into his mouth. “Mmm, fun size,” he joked.

Jake sat and watched Alex’s balls moving back and forth as he went up and down on Max. He looked up at Ian and saw that Ian was watching them, too. Jake raised an eyebrow and pointed. Max nodded, Ian smiled and filled up another syringe.

On cue, Jake grabbed Alex and pulled him over. “Whoah, hey!” Alex protested, laughing as Max and Jake held him down. “What are you guys doin’?” he shouted. Ian answered his question by pushing the needle into his dick. “Awww…” Alex mock-complained.

“Let’s take his balls off, too,” Jake wryly proposed.

“Aww, man…I haven’t even gotten off yet…” Alex moaned, grinning even as he did. Ian injected his left nut, and then the right.

“You got about five minutes,” Ian joked. Alex didn’t waste any time once Ian pulled the needle out, jerking his noodle frantically even as it shrank. The boys watched Alex go from using his whole hand, to three fingers, to two, and finally to just playing with his head between his thumb and index finger. Finally he spurted, a thin dribble of clear fluid dripping from his flared cockhead.

“Ahhh…” Alex moaned. Once he’d recovered, he said, “You know, I wish you guys hadn’t done that…we got that party tomorrow night.”

I’d never been to a nude beach before in my life, and when my boyfriend asked me to go to this one about an hour south I was a little hesitant at first. It’s not like I’m bad shape or anything - I have a visible six pack and am proud of my body, it was just…well, being naked in front of a whole bunch of people. Still, he persuaded me anyway and off we went. Dropping my shorts on the beach was definitely a nervous experience. Suddenly I was standing ass naked in the sunlight, ass hanging out, dick flopping in the wind.

We decided to walk down the beach and as we did I got more comfortable. After a while or so I even sort of forgot I was naked, only really being reminded by the feeling of my cock hitting my leg. Seeing Ryan just naked on the beach with me was oddly not erotic - being naked in the open like this with all these other people sort of killed the secret thrill of seeing my boyfriend in the nude.

We continued down the beach and I smelled something like hot dogs. My stomach growled some, and we continued down the beach, toward where the smell seemed to be coming from, playing in the water or kissing a little along the way.

It was about two miles down the beach that I saw the first one. This hot looking kid, about nineteen or twenty, walking along toward us. I checked him out from the corner of my eye, and I could have sworn that kid’s dick was about an inch long, and I couldn’t make out any balls at all. He was pretty hairy though, so I figured maybe he just wasn’t well endowed and his bush covered it.

We continued on down the beach and the smell got stronger. “You want to get some of whatever that is?” Ryan asked. “It smells great.”

I said yeah - I was getting pretty hungry too. We kept heading its direction, and I saw another one. Decent looking blond guy this time, and just like the last one his cock was tiny! This time I took a less covert look and was sure this one had no balls; his hair was trimmed way down and I could tell. After him came three fratboy looking types and all three of them were that way. I elbowed Ryan. “Look at those three’s cocks,” I whispered.

He whispered back, “I know, just like that blond guy.” We both stopped for a minute and stared straight at them, plain as day. They didn’t say anything, just looked ahead and kept on walking. We watched them go for a few seconds, and then my stomach growled again and we went on down the beach. I was getting really hungry by this point so I hoped we found it soon.

As we kept walking more of the small cock guys passed us. Both Ryan and I were staring at this point and I noticed they didn’t even have cockheads. Finally, this incredibly hot guy with a totally shaven body walked by us and I stopped. “Excuse me?” I asked him. He stopped.

“Yes?” I was a little worried he’d get pissed about my asking, but I had to.

“What, um…what happened to your penis?” I asked.

He pointed behind him, toward where we were going, and said, “There’s a place down that way. You should check it out,” and then kept walking.

“That was weird,” I commented to Ryan, and he didn’t even acknowledge it, but just kept walking faster. “Ryan. Ryan!” I waved my hand in front of his face.

He shook his head and turned toward me. “What?”

“Didn’t you even hear me?” I asked him.

“Huh…no, guess not…” he turned back and started up again. “Let’s keep going, I’m starved.”

I jogged back up to him. “Yeah, me too.”

A little ways up the beach we could see a small crowd and a plume of smoke. “That must be the food place.” We started jogging. I idly noticed that every guy we passed now had the cropped dick. It occurred to me that if they didn’t even have cockheads then their penis must have been cut off. Probably their balls too, since they didn’t seem to have those either.

The smell got stronger and stronger, and we arrived at the source. It was a little beachside grill manned by a powerful looking man in shorts and a leather apron. “Step right up, boys, get it while it’s hot!” We got in line behind a few other guys and watched the action. The first guy in line stepped up. “You here for the special?” The guy nodded and had the customer stand with his genitals on a metal support with a little cup for them to go. He whipped out this tool that looked like a cross between a wrench and hedge clippers and held it in the fire for a few seconds. “Ready, son?”

The guy nodded again and the big dude positioned the shear things around the customers erect cock. He wrenched his arms apart and the blades closed, severing the man’s penis and cauterizing the wound shut. “You want that with sauce, too?” The guy nodded again and the man repositioned the blades around his scrotum, cutting again. The customer stood aside while the guy castrated another man - special with sauce - and then grilled the cocks, split open on the grill, and basted them with the men’s pulverized testicles. The two recently emasculated men looked on hungrily, apparently in no pain at all.

My mouth watered feverishly, and Ryan was so intent on it he didn’t even acknowledge me. I didn’t really care that much; I was too hungry to really want to talk anyway. The guy gave them their specials on a bun with a paper plate, and they wandered off, happily munching on their own genitals.

Ryan stepped up and put his balls on the tray. The guy whistled appreciatively. “That’s some hose you got there. I hope you can finish it.”

“I’m pretty damn hungry,” Ryan smiled back. “I’ll finish it.”

The guy positioned the clippers around Ryan’s cock and pulled them shut, severing it. It plopped into the tray with a loud squish noise. Next he clipped off Ryan’s balls - he winced a little but didn’t look like he was in much pain. Ryan stepped back and I proudly stepped up. “Looks like you might want to convince your friend to share some of his, buddy. You’ll finish that thing in about two bites.” Ryan laughed behind me. I could feel my face flush.

“Just cut it off, please? I’m starving!”

“Sorry buddy, no offense meant. Pretty soon it won’t matter anyway, eh?” He put the shears around my dick and pulled. The pain was intense but only lasted a fraction of a second. I was a little dazed from my cock removal and didn’t even really feel it when he took my balls off.

He expertly slit our dicks down the underside like sausages and threw them on the grill, mine on the bottom rack and Ryan’s on the top one. “The big one’s gonna have to cook a little longer since it’s so thick.” He looked at Ryan and asked, “You mind if I fuck your friend while their cookin’?”

“Go ahead.”

The guy took his apron off and the mammoth erection underneath sprung out. Ryan and my eyes both got big just looking at the thing - it was so wide we couldn’t see his balls hanging underneath from the front.

“Bend over, buddy,” he told me, and I did. The guy had to loosen me up a little bit, but it was still a shock when he just slammed it in. I could feel it way up in my gut, way more than Ryan’s had ever gone to. Once when he came in, he stayed there for a minute and said to Ryan, “Hey, watch this.” The guy put his hands behind his head and lifted me off the ground a few times with his fucking cock. I came as he did it, my own weight pushing me further down onto it. Soon after he blew a load himself, and then pulled out, cum dripping out of my ass. “Looks like you boys are about done.”