Saturday, March 19, 2022

The Firing Squad - Jayse Version

As of the time of this writing (December 20, 2021), this is the final story that I have completed and ready for posting on my blog. I've got MANY more in the works, and will no doubt complete at least a few of them between now and March when this story posts, but for the very first time, I have posted ALL of the completed stories that are in my files! 

And this one is a doozy! 

This story, a retelling of a classic story by Nathan from the old website, is not for the faint of heart. There is no last-minute reprieve for this handsome, oversexed stud, and he loses his most prized possessions by the end of the tale. You have been warned. So sit back, relax, and enjoy Mark Hanson's final moments as an intact man...


The Firing Squad

Based on an original story by Nathan


I’ve been a Sexecutioner for almost 20 years, and I love my job. I love the smell of gunpowder and the sharp crack that a bullet makes when it’s traveling at thousands of feet per second. And the results are fast. Very fast. I don’t think there’s any way to castrate a man quicker. God, I love it — the smell, the sound, the shock on the prisoner’s face as it happens, the sight then as their nuts simply disappear in an explosion of shattered tissue that unmans them in less than an instant. It’s a good justice, and I’m thankful that I’m in a State where they still know how it’s done. Yeah, I love my job. 

I am the senior warden at the State prison, and I don’t question what it is that we do. I guess being a man, some people would think that I should empathize with them when I take their balls. Well, perhaps, but then I don’t actually pull the trigger, and so I don’t unman them in the true sense of the word. Oh, I’m there, I’m calling out the commands, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything. But yeah, I guess I don’t really feel too much concern for these men. 

Instead, I do my best to remember the victim — or in this case, the many multiple victims — and perhaps in that moment when we take the prisoner’s balls in some sense we avenge the women that deserve to be avenged. I hate rapists, and I like making sure they are punished. They are among the worst of the prisoners we see here as far as I’m concerned, and I have no respect for them and no merciful feelings towards them at all. 

Though I have to admit that I feel an odd sense of pity for Mark Hanson. 

This lad, like every other convicted rapist, deserves to be nutted, and as far as I’m concerned it honestly should have been done a long time ago. Would have saved everyone a lot of heartache. Yeah, Mark Hanson deserves it all right, and I for one will be glad to be a part of doing it to him. But he’s a strange one, like he still doesn’t really get it. Hard as it is to believe, he even claims his innocence! Claims it was all consensual! He’s not innocent by a long shot though, he couldn’t be, and his inability to understand that is reason enough to take his balls. 

That’s the way I see it anyway. 

I think in a very real way we will be doing him a favor. His overloaded sac of bollocks have apparently been nothing but a problem for him since he first came into puberty, and now, at twenty-two, it is well past time to get them off of him. Hell, he’s been accused of fucking so many women out of wedlock that it makes me sick, and as I see it castration is hardly enough punishment for him. 

The lad’s hormone-soaked balls own his mind, and have driven him to put sex before common sense. While he probably wouldn’t agree, I really do sincerely think we are doing him a favor, and once he’s been de-sexed, life will get a lot simpler for him. In the end, he may even come to appreciate it, and if he thanks me for it later he wouldn’t be the first inmate to do so. Right now, though, Mark is just a typical oversexed young male that has more cock than sense, and who loves pussy so much it’s all he can think about. I don’t think he can get pussy off of his mind! Of course, now that he’s here and in my tender care, I’m about to change that forever. 

Of course, I’d heard about Mark long before he arrived at our correctional facility. I mean, who hadn’t heard about him! The trial was a nationwide scandal! The lad has thus far been confirmed as the father of more than 70 children, and genetic testing is identifying more of his offspring almost every single week! There is continuing speculation that that number may be a vast undercount, and that he may have even more babies scattered about his home town. Hell, it’s now gotten to the point where if someone’s child is particularly beautiful, or has a certain shade of bright blue eyes, or a thick crop of tousled golden blond hair, whispers start and people wonder. The kid has been a damned one-man baby making machine! 

And once you see him, it’s no surprise as to why he’s been so popular with the ladies. Even I have to admit that the lad is a pure Grade-A stud! He’s got the perfect male body, perhaps best described as a swimmer’s build that’s morphing its way toward a heavyweight bodybuilder. He’s a few inches over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist and hips, and a build that would be the envy of any man a decade his senior. The dude is BUILT, his entire frame corded with thick, swollen muscles, but at the same time lean as only a young man’s body can be lean. He is big everywhere — arms, shoulders, chest, legs — yet his stomach is still chiseled and flat, with deep horizontal lines of muscle that are visible even through his prison jumpsuit. What makes his body even more amazing is that he’s obviously still growing, and has a whole lot of frame to still fill out! Of course, after I finish with him, he won’t be packing on much muscle any more… 

Mark is also extraordinarily handsome, his face a potent mix of angelic innocence, chiseled masculinity, and raw sex appeal. He looks even younger than he is, his baby face still caught in that magical transition from boy to man. His sharp, cornflower blue eyes are framed with thick lashes, which are a color of honey blond only a few shades darker than the thick, shaggy, golden blond hair that frames his face with its effortless waves and curls. The young man had clearly spent a good deal of time out of doors before his arrest, trial, and conviction, for there are still remnants and tufts of bright blond sun bleached hair scattered through his thick curls, making him look cute as hell. Yeah, even as an avowed heterosexual male, I gotta admit that Mark is breathtakingly handsome, and he should have been a model or a matinee idol instead of some suburban delivery driver. Maybe then he wouldn’t have gotten himself into so much trouble. 

But as handsome as Mark is and as magnificent his physique, it’s actually what’s hanging between his long, thickly muscular legs that caused such a stir across the country. The media coverage of the trial just couldn’t get enough of the various witness accounts of just how big a boy Mark Hanson truly is. The lad is gifted in every possible way, but he’s been particularly blessed where it matters the most. 

Mark’s prick is truly something to see. It’s quite the firehose, long and thick even when soft, and he’s clearly proud of it. In my 20 years of sexecutions, I’ve seen perhaps a tiny handful of dicks that were longer or thicker, but I can’t remember seeing any that were quite as beautifully formed. Mark has a real pussy pounder, very long and damn impressively thick, the kind of cock that can fill a woman to absolute capacity with inches to spare. His dick has a shallow, gentle upward curve that made it perfect for fucking, and a succulent, helmet-shaped head the size of a small apple. With nearly 12 inches of thick, rock solid cock protruding between his legs, Mark’s dick was made for fucking. 

The rotund set of pendulous bollocks hanging down from that huge cock were simply colossal. Talk about a set of breeder balls! It was no WONDER that the kid had pumped out well north of 70 squalling brats with gonads so staggeringly huge! I’ve maybe seen one or two sets of nuts that were bigger than the stones hanging from Mark’s groin, but no other man could match the sheer power and beauty of the young stud’s manly orbs. Hanson’s huge huevos are easily as big as ripe grapefruits, maybe even bigger, and naturally hang extremely low in his silky scrotum. His balls are also surprisingly dense and solid, making them even heavier than they looked, and their great weight produced one of the longest dangles I’ve ever seen. These are clearly industrial strength balls built for long endurance, and if the witness testimony at the trial was to believed, the lad’s sexual stamina is simply legendary. 

Simply put, Mark Hanson is a thoroughbred stallion of the highest caliber, and he managed to spread his exceedingly potent seed far and wide before he finally got caught. 

The lad says he’s being wronged, and angrily and vehemently maintains his innocence even after all of those women testified against him in the trial. He claims that those women, many of whom were visibly pregnant on the witness stand, were coerced to lie against him. Yeah, well let him be a defiant tough boy to the bitter end, that makes no difference to me. We’ll see how he handles it once his legs are spread and his balls are hanging down, waiting for the bullets that will end their existence. 

Of course, he will not go easily, and of that there is little doubt. He was shaved two days ago in preparation for his sexecution, and it took a half dozen of my biggest and burliest guards to hold him down for the procedure. God he fought! He fought so damn hard, but in the end it didn’t matter, and while we held him down and he grunted and yelled, we shaved his humongous balls and took his pubic hair. I laughed while we did it. Mark hated every minute of it, snarling and cursing, and fighting the whole time. Even so, he popped a massive stiffy while it was being done to him, and that got a good laugh from all of us. It turns out that the kid’s behemoth balls are one of the most sensitive and erogenous areas of his body, so I had the guards take extra time shaving those huge nuts, roughing fondling and squeezing and manhandling them until rivers of clear precum were running from his nearly foot long dick. Yeah, we got him all hot and bothered, churning his cream to the boiling point, but I made sure that we didn’t let the young man cum. Man, I’ve rarely enjoyed the task of shaving as man’s privates as much as I did Mark Hanson’s, and I’m keeping his golden pubes in a jar on my office shelf as a souvenir. 

Heck, even when Mark first arrived at our facility, he couldn’t seem to keep his huge cock down. The handsome lad threw wood during his initial strip search, blushing furiously as his randy cock betrayed him and sprang into steel like hardness. It was like he had virtually no control over his mammoth member. And when you read his court file — which was nearly as thick as his massive hog — that just further reinforced that notion. The records showed that the lad had been fucking as soon as he was capable of it, as evidenced by the fact that his oldest known son was about to turn 12 years old. That meant that Mark was already fucking and getting women pregnant as the tender age of just ten years old!! 

It was truly extraordinary that the oversexed lad hadn’t been caught years sooner. But he somehow flew under the wire. Unlike almost any other man his age, Mark apparently had never bragged and boasted about his alleged hundreds of conquests, keeping his sexcapades secret from even his closest friends. He never dated in junior high and high school, as he had a predilection for women a decade or more his senior, and in fact ended up sleeping with a long list of his classmates’ mothers. Amazing as it sounds, apparently no one suspected anything at the time, despite how prolific Mark became with his exploits. 

Mark’s sexual activity really kicked into high gear, though, after he graduated high school and took a job as a package delivery person for a major delivery chain. His new job gave him access to untold hundreds of bored and lonely women all across his large delivery area, and the stunningly handsome young man made a game of flirting with and bedding any of them that would have him. He especially enjoyed married women, and he fucked them no matter their age, young and old alike. In fact, several of Mark’s confirmed children were with women in their early to mid 50s, which spoke to just how virile the hyper sexed young stud truly was! 

It was around this time that word of mouth began to quietly spread among the married women of the community about Mark Hanson’s sexual prowess, and more and more women began to seek him out. Delivery company records at the trial showed how purchases and deliveries in Mark’s area began to increase dramatically in response to Mark’s growing popularity, reaching their peak right before the young man’s arrest… and then dropping precipitously thereafter. Women started ordering deliveries simply as a pretext to have the young man visit them in their home. One of the most memorable and salacious stories to come out of the trial regarded a group of eight women, all of them close friends, who had Mark deliver a package to one of their homes so that they could all enjoy an afternoon with him together. Incredibly, the powerful young stallion did all eight women in a row in under two hours, which would have been patently impossible for most normal men! Apparently his humongous balls truly are as virile as they are massive! 

Oh, and all eight of those women had been ovulating at the same time that day, and all eight of them became pregnant, two of them with twins! 

Yeah, Mark was one hell of a busy lad, that was for sure! Pumping his load into every woman he could find! The handsome young kid got away with it for a damn long time, too, more than a decade really, even as speculation began to mount at the number of blond haired, blue eyed children that were being born into couples where neither the husband nor the wife’s families had those genetic traits in their backgrounds. The lad nearly got caught by jealous husbands and nosy neighbors dozens of times, but always managed to sneak out a back door or a window in the nick of time. But even Mark’s incredible string of good luck had to run out sometime… 

Mark’s downfall came one spring morning earlier this year when he was fucking what would be his last pussy, a beautiful married woman in her early 30s. Mark claimed that she was willing, and in fact that she had seduced him, but if that was the case, she sure changed her mind before he was done. What can’t be disputed is that he was balls deep into her when her husband walked in on them. The woman’s husband is a police officer, and he caught everything on his body camera when he made an unscheduled and unannounced visit home to check on his wife. 

The officer’s camera caught the footage of Mark’s muscular body in all of its naked glory, pumping his huge cock in and out of his wife like a human jackhammer, his giant, fist-sized balls slapping hard against her pussy on each powerful stroke. Both were moaning and groaning in orgasmic bliss, with the wife running her hungry hands all over Mark’s big, meaty pecs and the flexing muscles of his lean, washboard stomach. The husband stood silently in the doorway for several long moments, apparently too stunned by what he was seeing to say anything at first, and so he captured Mark’s ejaculation on tape. The young man began huffing and grunting like some rutting bull, pumping his muscular hips faster and faster until violently driving his huge cock home as he began to unload his massive wad inside of her. The kid must have had one hell of a load, too, as thick clots of chunky white cum very quickly began to squirt out around the edges of her well-plugged pussy, splattering onto Mark’s muscular thighs and seed-heavy balls as he filled her to overflowing with his stud sperm. 

That’s when you heard the husband yell, “Freeze, mother fucker!!” as he drew his gun on the grunting and bucking lad. The wife was clearly terrified and started hysterically screaming, while an utterly shocked and surprised Mark twisted around to see the armed officer standing there with his weapon pointed at his chest, and he immediately raised his big, muscular arms in surrender, his slowly softening cock still buried inside the officer’s wife. 

Mark was arrested, and when the officer’s wife gave her statement later that day to the police, she was adamant that the young man had raped her. By that point, she was sporting a black eye and a fat lip, and her demeanor was that of a meek and brow-beaten woman. The defense pointed out that the young woman clearly had none of those injuries in the body cam footage, suggesting that those injuries were later inflicted by an angry husband. The defense attorneys also stated that the wife appeared to be clearly enjoying herself in the video up until the moment that her husband surprised them both, insinuating that she was being coerced by her abusive husband to lie under oath. But the jury didn’t buy that argument. It likely didn’t help that the jury was composed entirely of married men, and rumor continues to this day that several of the jurors may have themselves been cuckold by the handsome young defendant. 

After that, it became a growing parade of women and their husbands testifying against the visibly distraught and disbelieving young gigolo. If most of these women seemed reluctant to speak, and if many of them kept stealing what looked to be apologetic glances at the devastated defendant, well, who am I to say what that meant. Suffice to say that the results of the three-month trial were a foregone conclusion, and the all male jury deliberated for less than 15 minutes before rendering their verdict, finding Mark Hanson guilty on all counts. 

Some think Mark got railroaded by the cop husband, his police friends, and the dozens of other angry husbands who came forward once they realized that the young man had fucked their wives too. Some think Mark never raped anyone, and that all of the sex he’d had with all of those hundreds of women was consentual. Personally, I don’t care either way. Fact is that the young buck is just too oversexed, plain and simple, and that his huge balls are his problem. We were going to cure him of that problem once and for all, and women everywhere will be lot safer for it.

I am now standing outside his cell, and Mark Hanson stares back at me. His stunning blue eyes look back at me with a mixture of anger, panic, despair, and resignation. He’s clearly terrified of what’s to come, but he also knows that nothing is going to save him. There will be no last minute reprieve, the Governor has already been very clear on that. The young man’s face also looks a bit flushed, no doubt due to the little blue pill he was forced to take earlier. The Viagra was already surging through his system, and even through the jumpsuit, I could tell that Mark’s huge slab of horse cock was starting to fill will blood, and would soon be stiff and eager for the coming event. The medicine probably wasn’t going to be strictly necessary in Mark’s case, as he’d been half hard during almost his entire incarceration, and a stiff breeze was often enough to coax him to full mast. But protocol required the administration of the medication, and I’m a stickler for protocol. 

A boner is necessary for the upcoming sexecution, as a hard prick keeps a man’s dick high in the air, up and out of the way, and that’s important. Once we strap a convicted felon into the spreadeagled position, if the man’s penis flags and drapes downward, it would be a disaster. A cock hanging in front of his balls would become part of the target, and if that happened it would be pulverized along with everything else. While that might be okay with me, it would likely cost me my job, and in any case I wouldn’t want to have to explain how it happened. So, Mark’s cock needed to be up and stiff and safely out of the way during his castration. 

As I stare at him, I can tell that Hanson is scared shitless. Still, there is a fire and defiance in his burning blue eyes that is rare among the condemned men I see, a bravery that I can’t help but admire. I know that he thinks his sentence is unjust. But even as I look at him, he reaches down with his right hand to the front of his orange jumpsuit, and absentmindedly adjusts his hardening dick to accommodate its growing length. He is stiffening up, and will soon be as hard as a piece of forged steel. Castration. By firing squad. It’s a tough sentence, but here in my home State, that’s the punishment for the crime of rape. He’s not happy about it — no, not one bit — and he has made it clear he feels he’s being screwed. But I couldn’t care less what he feels, and no matter if he accepts his sentence or not, it is still going to happen and that’s his reality. As our eyes lock in a long, silent stare, I find that I am actually looking forward to seeing him nutted. In fact, I can hardly wait! 

I wink at him, a cruel smile playing across my face, and he finally looks away. He knows I will be there, making the final command, watching him as the bullets take his balls. He’s as smooth as a baby boy down there right now, his sex hair stolen from him and now just a trophy stuffed in a glass jar on my desk. I see him shift uncomfortably again, and his hard cock rubs the rough fabric of his jumpsuit. As I watch, a dime sized wet spot appears there, indicating his traitorous dick is drooling as it grows hard. He’s so horny that he’s literally dripping, even as he is about to be castrated! Who would have thought?! Yeah, this young stud is entirely too oversexed for his own good! I am looking forward to getting his dick out of that jumpsuit so I can watch it, stiff and quivering and oozing, as we get ready to unman him. 

As I often do with the condemned, I wonder what he’s feeling at this moment. Obviously, he’s horny as hell, which is no surprise as he hasn’t touched his dick in a month. I know, because I put him on 24-hour observation that long ago, and we haven’t left him alone long enough for him to do it since then. I don’t allow any of my prisoners to masturbate prior to nutting them, as I think it does them good to be shot when they are horny and hard and begging for one more ejaculation that will never come. Some might think that’s cruel, but I don’t care and it’s my prison. There is nothing in the law that requires me to allow them to stroke their cocks and shoot their wads when they feel like it, so simply put I just don’t allow it. If they wanted to get their rocks off, then they should have behaved themselves and kept their dick in their pants when they were supposed to. Anyway, that’s the way I see it. 

The combination of a month of abstinence and a dose of Viagra means that, by the day of their sexecution, the condemned like Hanson are consumed with sexual thoughts stirring in their brains and flooding their groins, even as they wait to be unmanned. I think that makes their punishment that much more appropriate, that they are perhaps the horniest they’ve ever been in their lives as I rob them of their manhood forever. It’s therefore especially important to me that none of the condemned achieve sexual satisfaction before we unman them. 

It’s actually been difficult to KEEP Hanson from ejaculating while in our care. Like all young men in their sexual prime, Mark is horny all the time, but this stud takes it to a whole new level. Even with his limbs shackled to the bed every night when he sleeps, the young man has nearly managed to get his rocks off on more than one occasion. We finally had to force him to sleep in the nude and without any sheets or blankets, as the bound stud would try to buck his hips and rub his rock hard cock against the fabric in an attempt to achieve release. Even his showering and toileting is supervised, guaranteeing that he can’t sneak a quick wank away from prying eyes. His enormous balls must be positively packed FULL of sperm by now, heavy and aching with the need for release, and that’s just how I want them. I always enjoy seeing the condemned unmanned with his heavy load of semen still unspent, stored up and leaving him frustrated beyond belief, and that’s especially true in Hanson’s case. And once the bullets have done their work, the young man’s mighty steel beam of a cock will deflate and shrink like a dead worm, almost as soon as his balls come off. That always happens, and even the double dose of Viagra can’t seem to keep a man hard without his nuts still attached. 

I look at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly time to put things in motion, and I feel an excitement as the time nears. I’m also going to be relived when it’s done, the witnesses have gone home, and the crowds outside have dispersed. Hanson’s scheduled sexecution has caused quite a stir in the press and in the public, and there are lots of protesters out on the lawn chanting their displeasure, more than I’ve ever seen before. Even I have to admit that the firing squad is an old and messy form of punishment, but it’s worked here for many years, and it is effective and quick. Sure, there are other methods of castration — chemical sterilization with direct injection of battery acid or lethal medications, the electric chair that fries a man’s balls before his very eyes — but the firing squad in my opinion the most humane method around. When those bullets fire, the resultant castration happens so fast it is over before the prisoner has time to even realize it has started. 

I had visited the sexecution chamber shortly before coming to Mark’s cell, making sure that all was in readiness. The chamber was actually two large rooms in one, roughly bisected by a barrier of thick plexiglas that extended from wall to wall and from floor to ceiling. One half of the divided room held the sexecution chamber itself, with chains and shackles set into the floor and ceiling, and two panels in the floor from which the guns would project when the time was right. The back wall of the sexecution chamber was made of steel-reinforced concrete, and was pocked with literally hundreds of tiny craters — mostly at crotch level — from previous sexecutions. The other portion of the divided room was actually the larger of the two, and was set with multiple rows of chairs where the various witnesses would sit to watch the unmanning take place. A black curtain masks off the plexiglas window until it is time for the sexecution. 

The witnesses had already been seated in the large room when I paid my earlier visit, and it was packed to capacity. The usual political officials were present, as they always were when such sentences were carried out, but the majority of the witnesses were many of the women Mark had been convicted of raping, and their husbands. The women, many of whom were very visibly pregnant as they neared their due dates, either looked downcast and defeated, or were staring forward, putting on a brave face. The emotions on their faces were complicated and conflicting, and were hard for me to interpret. The husbands’ faces, on the other hand, were far easier to read. Almost to a man, I saw eager anticipation and righteous anger on their faces, and it was clear to see which half of each of these couples was looking forward to Mark Hanson’s sexecution. The last woman Mark had ever fucked and her police officer husband were in the center seats in the front row, having the best view in the house for the upcoming sexecution, and the cop’s eyes in particular burned with an eagerness to see the young man’s huge balls be pulverized. Even for me, the intensity of his focused gaze was almost frightening. 

Various recessed cameras in both chambers would capture every moment of the upcoming event, focusing both on Mark Hanson’s sexecution and the reactions of those in the witness chamber. In a rare ruling, the judge had ordered the sexecution to be televised, so the whole country — indeed, the entire world — would be able to watch Mark be unmanned, in every sense of the word, and see that he had paid a price for his actions and that justice had been served. With the young man reduced to a nutless eunuch, Hanson would no longer be a threat to any woman, and that was something good and worth watching. 

It is now twenty minutes until noon, and it is time. 

I move to the cell and nod to the guards that have been waiting nearby. Then I say to young Mark, “Hanson. It’s time. You need to just come along quietly and not fight this. It will be much easier that way, and you can’t stop it. OK?”

Hanson stands up and starts to back up across his cell. I can clearly see the whites of his blue eyes, and he’s obviously terrified. In an odd contrast, the front of his orange jumpsuit is almost comically tented out, straight out, as his cock has thickened and lengthened and is now fully erect. The drug-induced boner is pornographically apparent, and I find that I cannot help looking at it. I remember that that huge cock has pleasured countless women in the man’s young life, and that it will never get a chance to pleasure one again. Mark has now pressed his big body against the back wall, and is all but babbling now, saying, “I’m not going! I don’t deserve this! I’m innocent, do you hear me?! Stay back! Don’t get near me!” 

At another nod from me, the guards switch off the electronic lock for the cell door with a loud click, and they start to enter the room. Mark’s big hands ball into fists as he takes a fighter’s stance, his deep voice going even deeper as he yells. “Stay BACK!! Fuck you! FUCK you!! Stay the fuck away from me!!” 

Mark stands poised to fight. He’s a ferociously strong young man, his 22-year-old body made of pure muscle. Even with half a dozen of my biggest guards crowding the room, I’m not certain that my men can overpower the handsome young hunk in a toe-to-toe fight. Fortunately, we have other options. 

Three of the guards take out their tasers and fire them simultaneously. One set of darts takes the young man in his bare and very muscular forearm, while a second set takes him in the side of his thick and very bull like neck. The third set was aimed at his lower abs, but Mark’s rampant horse cock gets in the way, so that this final set of darts punctures right through his jumpsuit and buries right into the underside of his cock shaft, directly beneath the swollen and leaking cock head. The darts themselves no doubt sting, especially the pair imbedded in his meaty cock, but that is nothing to the inferno of agony that erupts through Mark’s powerful young body as the three guards pull the triggers on their tasers. 

Mark’s blue eyes fly open wide and his entire body locks in one massive, muscular flex for several long moments, and then he crumples to the floor like a rag doll. The incredibly tough lad starts recovering almost immediately, however, trying to claw his way to his feet, so my other three guards take out their tasers and fire them at his supine form, racking his powerful body with another wave of electrical agony and knocking the rest of the fight out of him. At that point, it’s a relatively easy process for my guards to pick up his heavy, limp form and carry his temporarily paralyzed body out of the room by his legs and arms. 

It only takes a minute or two for us to reach the anteroom to the sexecution chamber. Here, the guards set Mark’s stunned form down on the cement floor and begin to strip him out of his jumpsuit. He needs to be naked for the punishment, and he’s not going to need clothes again until after he’s healed from his unmanning, so this is the right time to strip him naked. Hanson is still wide awake, but his brain can’t yet control his muscles. He tries to flail, his body shuddering with uncoordinated movement, but it’s a feeble effort and not nearly enough to keep the guards from quickly stripping him totally naked. When his trapped cock is finally freed from his pants, it immediately slams upward against his cobblestone abs with a very loud and beefy smack, the swollen, purplish head shiny and glistening with precum. I’m impressed that even a taser strike to his cock doesn’t cause his mighty trouser beast to flag in the slightest. His massive bollocks also spill out of his pants, looking even more massive than ever shorn of their wiry blond hair. Or perhaps they’re swollen bigger with over a month’s worth of unspent cum. Regardless, Mark’s big balls look positively titanic in their bald sac, and are so heavy that they are nearly resting on the cold stone floor. 

The guards then once again pick up the young man, who is still unable to stand on his own, and I buzz the door open into the room beyond. Hanson is starting to recover from the multiple taser strikes, but my guards work quickly, securing the shackles dangling from the ceiling to the young man’s wrists, and the similar shackles chained to the floor clamped around his ankles. The chains actually retract into the ceiling and floor, and as I watch, the guards start to shorten those chains, stretching out Mark’s powerfully muscled limbs wide until he’s in a tight, spreadeagled position. His huge thighs are spread wide enough to allow his huge balls to hang free and clear, looking like a pair of enormous fleshy fruits ripe for the plucking. 

A metallic collar is then clamped around the lad’s neck, minimizing his movement and forcing him to look directly forward at the still-curtained window of plexiglas. Mark will be forced to face his witnesses during his sexecution, and also the guns that will shortly extend from the floor before him. His mighty body is now secured 20 feet in front of the window, and perhaps 15 feet or so from where the business end of the guns will be when they rise out of the floor. 

I am standing directly behind him as all of this is being done, and I can’t help but stare at the masculine beauty of his muscular back and legs. Mark’s ass is particularly beautiful, thick with muscle but so lean and chiseled that I can see every striation and muscle fiber as he fights against his bonds with more and more of his returning strength. His powerful legs are spread so wide apart that I can see his puckered asshole, and as he struggles, I can see his hair-ringed hole flex open and closed for me. Beneath his legs is his humongous sack of shaved balls, and I cannot stop staring at them. I lick my lips in anticipation what will soon happen to them. I walk up closer to him then, and allow the back of my hand to brush his naked ass, before dropping it between his legs to fondle his balls. His entire body jerks suddenly against his bonds as he feels my hand cradle his enormous right nut, but he’s utterly defenseless to stop me. The enormous bollock is warm in my grasp, the skin silky smooth, while the testicle within feels almost unnaturally hard and dense, like it is turgid to the point of actual pain. 

Just that one whopper of a nut fills my big hand to overflowing, so I have to reach down with my other hand to cup his dangling left orb as well. I can’t believe the wealth of nut meat filling my hands, and I fondle those massive gonads for several long moments, committing the size and feeling of them to memory. Mark’s huge log of a cock flexes spasmodically in response, slapping repeatedly against his iron hard abs and leaving a snail trail of clear precum behind. The handsome young buck might not like me fondling his huge nuts, but his rampant horse cock sure does! Even though I’m a straight man, I revel in the feeling of holding the condemned manhood, of feeling the massive stones inside his sac flex and throb with vitality and life. It’s a powerful feeling, gently cradling a set of balls that will soon be blown into smithereens, knowing that I will be the last person to ever touch them. 

I pull down on his heavy sac, because I can, stretching out Hanson’s gigantic sack of balls and pulling it downward toward his knees. He doesn’t like me doing that, not one bit, but he’s powerless to stop it. We are getting close and I am eager, even if Hanson is not. The execution technician looks at me, and then nods with a knowing smile. I smile back at him, and then, taking the cue, I slip the two latex gloves on, and then let him hand me the can of marking cream. I am standing behind Hanson then with the can in one gloved hand, and as I do my heart is pounding with excitement. This is something that I like to do myself. The can is open and I reach into it and pull out a thick gob of the florescent orange marker dye. It’s a thick cream, and I take the big glob in my hand and then reach up under him, until I heft his burgeoning bag of balls. 

Hanson gasps as I touch his sac again, the coldness of the cream a marked contrast to the previous heat of my bare hands. His cock is flexing so hard that I feel it all the way down in his balls. I once again cradle his balls with both of my hands, carefully kneading and caressing the huge stones within his sac as I massage the bright orange cream deep into his scrotal skin. The skin of his shaved scrotum is almost unbelievably soft and smooth, feeling like a warm velvet, and I love the contrast it makes with the solid and heavy weight of the two huge rocks contained within. He lets out in involuntary gasp as I knead both of his seed-bloated nuts, working the cream into his balls and painting them a day-glow orange in the process. He gasps louder, and struggles even, but I do not hurry, instead taking my time and savoring the feeling of holding Mark’s prodigious manhood. I own him in that moment, own his very balls, and in a very short while I will be taking them from him. That thought makes me grin. I am holding Mark’s big, big balls, and I will be the last person that will ever do so. It’s a tremendous feeling of power over another man, especially one as big and strong and handsome and virile as young Mark. 

Hanson grunts as I fondle his balls, sounding like a bull in heat, and I give them a firm squeeze just to remind him who is in control. He gasps louder still, and his blue eyes are wide in surprise and fear. As I work over his nuts, his hole gapes opens more and he thrusts his hips forward, fucking the air before him with his throbbing and drooling cock. He’s ready now, ready to be castrated, and his dyed nuts are so bright orange now they glow. There is no way they will be missed by the automated guns. In fact, the dye is actually a tracking marker used by the computer-controlled guns, which only lock onto objects that are painted with the special dye. That way that bullets are guaranteed to only take out Mark’s huge bull balls, and not harm a single hair of the rest of his gorgeous body. 

As I slowly work his balls and spread the dye, Mark’s cock gets harder and harder still, harder than I’ve ever seen it. The huge phallus looks like it now handedly meets, or even exceeds, a full 12 inches in length! Yet he knows what I am doing, painting his balls, making them oh-so-visible so they will make a perfect target, and there’s nothing he can do to stop me. His deep voice cracks, and as he feels me working in the cream he can’t help but begin to beg. 

“Unh…! Unh…! Unh…! Oh please, Warden! Unh…! Please! FUCK!! Unh…! Unh…! Please don’t castrate me!!” 

I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I use both of my hands to give him a firm, final, and very hard squeeze, just to let him know what he’s about to lose. I keep on squeezing, harder and harder, my forearms starting to shake with the effort and my knuckles turning white. Mark howls and bellows, but I can’t tell if it’s in pleasure, in pain, or both. Incredibly, his huge bollocks barely even dent in my hands, feeling like they are made from a very hard and solid rubber. Almost any other man’s balls would have burst under my gloved assault, but Hanson’s extraordinarily tough and solid stones endure every ounce of strength I throw into them. 

After a crushing ball squeeze that would have brought even the strongest man to his knees, I suddenly release Mark’s balls and let them drop to the bottom of their sac, allowing them to swing freely between his massive thighs. I then peel off the stained gloves and place one bare hand on his back, feeling the sheen of sweat there. His back is wide and dense and hard, and the huge muscles ripple under my touch. I stroke my hand downward over all of those lean muscles, and then over the dense muscles of his meaty ass, until I’m slowly making a circle around his puckered hole with my finger. 

He gasps at this unfamiliar touch, that of another man feeling his muscular ass, and I love that he’s defenseless to stop me. His mouth opens and he sucks in a deep breath, feeling my finger as it dances through the hairs that ring his virgin hole. His dime-sized nipples have hardened into tight points, his arousal reaching greater heights even as his terror mounts. He’s trussed out and completely immobile, his balls hanging down and dyed bright orange, ready to be shot off with a single word from me. He is living his last minutes as a man, and I know it, and he knows it. I stare at his perfect body, so big, so strong, so powerful and well defined, and I know that I will soon be rendering this virile prime stud of a man into a weak and impotent eunuch. 

I knew that those huge muscles would soon shrink and fade without the testosterone from his huge bull balls flooding his body, leaving him a weak and pale shadow of his former glory. He won’t lose that handsome face with its overwhelmingly masculine beauty, however, and as he serves out the remaining five years of his sentence, I’m sure it won’t be long before that pretty ass got filled with its first of many cocks. His days of being an alpha male stud are about to end, and his new life as a useless, nutless eunuch cum dumpster would soon begin. 

The muscles of his big thighs are straining, flexing, trembling, trying to close his legs and protect his balls. I guess I can’t blame him. But the restraints hold him firmly, and everything between his legs is exposed and vulnerable and ready. 

There is still one more thing that needs to be done before we can pull back the curtain and reveal the condemned. The execution technician hands me the banding pliers, and he’s already loaded them with a green rubber castration donut. I decide to walk around in front of Hanson before I use them, just to look him in the eyes and let him see the device in my hand. Of course, being from a farming and agricultural community, the lad knows exactly what it is I’m holding. And from the look of disbelief on his handsome face, it is obvious it never occurred to him that he would one day feel a bull bander being used to snap a ring of rubber around his own massive sac of stud nuts. I use the bander on all of the men that we castrate here, as it packages their nuts so well, and has the added benefit of minimizing blood loss once those nuts are violently and explosively removed. 

Hanson sure doesn’t like the pliers in my hand, loaded and ready to go, and his eyes go wide and his voice cracks as he starts to beg, “Warden! For God’s sake! PLEASE don’t use that! That’s meant for making STEERS!!” 

I grin at the handsome blond stud and reply, “Yes… I know.” 

I walk around behind him once again, and his big thigh muscle strain even harder, trying desperately to close his legs. I kneel down and slide the pliers up between his legs toward his dangling sac. Even at its widest setting, though, I have to fit the device over just one massive, bloated nut at a time, and even then it’s a very tight fit, but soon enough I have business end of the bander positioned over the long neck of his elongated scrotum. 

Mark is really going crazy now, jerking furiously at his steel restraints, the terror plain on his achingly handsome features. His deep voice cracks in fear like a pubescent teenager as he shouts, “OH! OH GOD!! PLEASE!! DON’T!! DON’T BAND ME!! I’m not an ANIMAL, for God’s sake!! PLEASE DON’T BAND ME!!” 

Just as he says that, I release the pliers, and the little green ring of rubber snaps off the open prongs and closes tightly around the top of his scrotum like a deadly noose, strangling his huge sac of balls in the process. He bucks his hips hard and grunts loudly as his big nuts feel the snap. He feels the effects immediately, as the blood and oxygen and nutrients are instantly cut off from his young stud nuts. It hurts like hell of course, and yet his big boner gets even stiffer, terminally erect and hard, almost as if the very act of being banded is sexually stimulating. Hell, for this ridiculously oversexed lad, it probably is! 

They say being banded feels like a donkey kick in the balls that doesn’t let up. I don’t know if that’s true, but whatever it feels like, Hanson doesn’t like it, not at all! He bucks and jerks and shakes against the neck collar and heavy chains holding him in place, struggling like a madman as he tries to somehow shake off the band. For such a tiny and insignificant-looking ring of rubber, it certainly makes him go crazy, bucking his hips so hard that it looks like he’s fucking the air in front of him, and making his bright orange balls ponderously swing and bounce between his thick legs. I can’t help but stare at his bottom as he jerks and bucks, admiring the way that his insanely muscular and chiseled butt muscles flex and strain with his desperate movements. 

The top of his sac now cinched closed and ready for the bullets to do their work, but I’m not done yet. 

The execution technician reloads the bander and then hands it back to me, another green donut straining within the open prongs. Hanson continues struggling as I thread the bander up and over his huge balls once more. I snap off the second band, so close it touches the first, which doubly insures his nuts are well and truly banded. He screams, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” with the second snap, and he slams his head back into the metal collar that secures it in his frustration. There is nothing he can to do prevent any of this, and I’m smiling as I watch him sweat and struggle. 

In effect, Hanson’s humongous stud nuts are already starting to die on the vine. Of course, they are very much still alive, and will remain so at least until the bullets have turned them to mush. And heck, if we cut the bands off even within the next hour or so, his bulky bollocks would likely recover without any lasting ill effect. Of course, I’ve no intention of doing that… 

The technician sets a steel hook through the backside of the lower of the two little green bands, and that hook is connected to a thick wire running directly down to a mechanized winch set into the floor beneath Mark’s crotch. The technician then starts turning a crank, and the stainless steel wire grows shorter, pulling downward and tugging Hanson’s overloaded sac of balls toward the floor. The bull hung lad has an unusually long dangle to begin with, but as I watch, the expert technician damn near doubles that length, stretching Hanson’s huge nuts almost past his knees! The handsome hunk is now opening bellowing in fear and pain, the tough ball cords anchoring his huge nuts to his body feeling like they could snap at any moment, the already terrible agony in his balls increasing with every sharp click of the winch. 

A millimeter at a time, Hanson’s slowly dying nuts are pulled downward farther and farther, more than I would have thought possible, until they are literally bulging in the very bottom of their sac, looking like they will burst forth at any moment. I have no doubt that, beneath that thick coat of orange dye, those massive pink orbs are already turning a dark red verging on purple as they are steadily strangled by the tight green bands. Hanson’s violent struggles diminish as his huge man nuts are stretched almost impossibly far from his crotch, as the lad quickly realizes that even the slightest movement will place even more strain on his already redlining ball cords. His huge thigh muscles are quivering with the intense strain being placed on those all important cords and cables, and his entire magnificent body now glows with a thick sheen of sweat. 

The result of all of this is that his big balls are now being held totally stationary. Even if the lad wiggles, bucks his hips, or moves in any way, the thick wire attached to his nuts insures that those huge bollocks can’t move or swing or sway. They are now an immobile target, in perfect position for the guns to slaughter. 

Hanson is clearly really scared now, but his cock remains as stiff as a crowbar, the combination of Viagra and extended abstinence guaranteeing that his massive boner won’t go down this side of death… or castration. The bloated, purple-headed tip of his huge schlong is now drooling a continuous stream of slick, clear precum, the viscous fluid glistening in the harsh fluorescent lights. A thin line of that slick goo hangs out of the end of his cock like snot, stretching halfway to the floor. As I watch, an involuntary shudder runs through Mark’s muscular body, making his slender hips buck and flex, but his huge balls don’t move a bit, locked in place by the thick wire. 

The only thing left is to secure his cock to make sure that it stays up and out of the way. Though it hardly seems necessary in Hanson’s case, as his massive hog is now looking so huge and hard and distended that it looks for all the world like he’s about to cum. Then, even as I watch, I see his stiff dick grow even stiffer, if that was really possible, and then thicken more than I would have thought possible. I realize with a start that the oversexed stud really WAS going to ejaculate at any moment, without the slightest stimulation of his enormous cock! 

The sexecution technician senses Mark’s impending orgasm as well, and he works fast to thwart it. He grabs a length of tough elastic cord, at the end of which is a strong spring clamp with a set of ugly, jagged, and very sharp teeth. Definitely something that would not want clamped to ANY part of your body. With practiced ease, he opens the clamp, exposing the wicked looking teeth. Hanson’s humongous cock is quivering and bouncing with his pounding heartbeat, his orgasm rising like thick sap from his strangled and stretched balls, clearly just a few powerful throbs away from squirting his heavy load. Just when I think the handsome stud is about to hurtle over the edge, the technician snaps the cruel jaws shut on that incredibly sensitive, nerve-packed patch of skin on the underside of his swollen shaft, just below the huge, helmet-shaped head. 

Mark bellows as the sharp pain lances through the most sensitive portion of his mammoth cock, interrupting his orgasm and stealing his long-denied ejaculation just before it would have started. He bucks his hips, hard, damn near ripping off his big bollocks in the process. His eyes are wide open in shock and disbelief, his magnificent muscles flexing dramatically against his restraints and sweat pouring off of his body like a pig. It’s a damn close thing, and I would have been mortified had the lad managed to cum before his sexecution, but the sharp pain of the cock clamp has once again brought him under control. 

Even as young Mark tries to regain his breath, the other end of the elastic cord is secured to the front of the thick steel collar placed around his bullish neck. The stretched cord pulls harshly upward on his dick, stretching and pulling on his cock so that no matter how hard he struggles, his cock will stay upright and out of the path of the bullets. The stretched elastic cord causes the teeth of the clamp to bite even deeper into the flesh of Mark’s thick dick, creating a pain with an intensity that he cannot believe. It is obvious that it hurts like hell, and as his cock is pulled upward, he grunts and struggles and shakes in desperation from the jabbing pain of it. He is freaking out, in a panic, and he shakes his entire body in his desperation. Everything wiggles it seems but his orange nuts, which are clamped firmly in place by the wire, held rigid and still no matter what he does. They are the target, and do not move at all, even as he struggles as hard as he can. Of course, that result is intentional, and the stillness of his bright orange nuts will help guarantee their doom. 

Incredibly, despite the jagged jaws of the metal clamp biting into the underside of his dick, Hanson’s cock swells even larger still, and the flow of precum resumes once more, even thicker than before! Thick strands of his clear juice are dripping all over the floor! I have clearly underestimated this stud’s pure, raw randiness. His huge balls have been double banded and stretched halfway to the floor, and a mini bear trap is locked onto the underside of his massive cock, and the lad is STILL on the very edge of squirting! His humongous cock looks painfully hard, and his full nuts are positively fat and bulging with his cream, looking like they’re eagerly awaiting the order for their destruction. 

And who am I to deny them their final fate. 

It is almost time for the unveiling, but I decide to do one more thing before the curtain is opened and the trussed up muscle stud is revealed to the witnesses. I don’t want this punk looking too proud and defiant when it comes time for his unmanning. No, I want the witnesses to see a broken young man full of remorse. I stand behind him once again, quietly donning another set of gloves. I place one hand on the center of his exquisitely muscular, sweaty back while the other hand reaches down to grasp as much of his straining nut meat as possible. He shudders at my touch, and I give his right ball a gentle squeeze and whisper almost directly in his ear, “You know Hanson, you have fucked your last woman. No more babies for these bad boys! Yeah, I’ve got your balls now, and I’m going to be the very last person to hold them. In a few moments, they are going to get shot right off of you, and you know it, and I know it, and there is nothing you can do about it. But I’m going to give you a warning, and you had better heed it. Do you hear me speaking to you?” 

As I asked him the question I squeeze his huge right nut, not too hard, but hard enough that he knows I mean business. He stares straight ahead, feeling me holding his precious manhood, and his stunning blue eyes are wide with fear. He nods his head, not daring to speak. 

“Good, I’m glad you do. In a moment, you will have a chance to speak, and all I had better hear you say is an apology to the women you fucked and an admission that you deserve your castration. If you say anything else, you’re going into the general population when all of this over. Do you know what that means?” 

Young Mark shakes his head, staring straight ahead with terror in his eyes. His entire muscular frame is virtually vibrating with fear. He’s no longer struggling, but is instead listening intently to every word I say. I stroke my free hand down his slick, muscular back, cup one of his mounded ass cheeks, and then bring my hand up in the deep crack between those muscular globes until my index finger is next to his tight hole. Instinct takes over, and he closes his ring of muscle, his virgin pucker squeezing shut. I feel it and I laugh, and then I just push my finger through his resisting muscle, forcing it past his ring and plunging it deep, all the way in, until blunt tip of my finger is prodding his big, swollen prostate. As I do that, Mark gasps and his eyes go wide with the completely novel feeling. That’s when I say, “That means that if you say the wrong thing, your tight little hole is going to be the new home for a whole lot of hard cocks over the next few years. A pretty boy like you is going to be VERY popular with the other inmates, especially after all of these big, strong muscles of yours fade away without these big nuts to power them. I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?” 

As I ask that question, I work my finger over his prostate, rubbing around and around his walnut sized gland. He gasps louder when I do, and his cock drools more cream. He’s once again on the very verge of ejaculating. I own him. 

He shakes his head violently back and forth, and I know that we understand each other. Then I say, “I tell you what — you wanna cum one more time?” 

He nods his head vigorously up and down, looking like a lost and frightened little boy, and not the 22-year-old oversexed alpha male whose sexual conquests must number in the high triple digits. He’s begging me not to stop. I use my right hand to give his huge, bulbous nut another squeeze, this one much stronger than before. His massive bollock is so meaty, so dense, so packed with sperm that it barely even deforms in my big hand! With the rubber rings choking off the top of his sac, and the huge balls themselves stretched out far, far further than they’ve ever been stretched in his life, I know that Hanson’s big nuts have become ultra sensitive, so my hard squeeze must hurt like hell. But you wouldn’t know it by the lad’s reaction, as he starts gently bucking his muscular hips as much as his restraints will allow, literally fucking his ass on my finger. I release his right nut, circle my middle finger and thumb together, and then flick his sac as hard as I can. He just grunts, loudly. I insert a second finger into his ass, right alongside the first, and slowly plunge them in and out, fucking his hot, tight hole. His precum has turned positively milky at this point, thick with rich sperm, and I’ve got him riding the razor’s edge. One light brush of his cock with a feather is likely all it would take to make him spew his load at this point, he’s so intensely aroused. His eyes are wide, his beautiful lips are parted with surprise and arousal, and I have his full and undivided attention. 

“I’ll just bet you do! You must have the granddaddy of all cum loads stored up in these huge balls of yours,” I say as I firmly pat the underside of his seed-swollen stones. “Be a good boy and say the right things, give a sincere apology to all of those women that you raped, and make SURE to tell everyone that you deserve to lose your balls. You say all of that, and then we’ll see about letting you cum one last time.” 

I jerk my two gloved fingers out then with an audible pop, leaving his hungry hole flexing and gaping, and step back from him. I discard my gloves, give a nod, and the dark curtain is quickly drawn back, and for the first time the witnesses see the prisoner who is about to be unmanned. 

Mark Hanson is staring straight ahead at the big window, his stunningly handsome face caught in a mix of surprise, fear, and unbridled lust. He’s stark naked, his gloriously big, lean, and muscular body trussed out, all of the amazing strength in those powerful muscles rendered useless and impotent. The rampant column of his steel hard cock is beyond obscene, for the mighty organ is now so big and so thick and so long that it looks like it belongs on some great beast of burden, not on a human male. A thick line of seminal fluid is drooling out of the tip of that monstrously distended cock, going all the way to the ground, and so white and thick with sperm that it almost looks like he’s cumming. The swollen head of his cock is huge and flared and purple, and he’s on the very verge of shooting his wad, yet he can’t quite get himself over the edge. The sight of him makes many of the witnesses gasp with shock and even disgust, and one of the people in the room shouts, “How DARE he!?! LOOK at him! The fucking pervert is HARD!!” 

Hanson’s gorgeous face flushes red with humiliation at the looks upon the witnesses. He’s totally ashamed and embarrassed, and that makes me glad. I look at the faces staring back at the condemned stud, and I see all sorts of expressions. The women display a wide variety of emotions, from sadness and pity and even longing, to shock and disgust and anger. But the men are nearly unified in their expressions, all of them hungry and eager and excited to watch the unmanning of the bull hung lothario who had fucked their wives. Oh yes — the women may have looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here, but the husbands, they were on the edge of their seats! 

Almost in unison, I see the witnesses’ eyes travel downward to the bulging double-barreled mass of testicular flesh hanging down at the end of an impossibly stretched out scrotum. The hazmat orange drew the eye like a magnet, but the sheer incredible size of those orange-dyed man eggs made many in the room gasp with shock and surprise. I have a better vantage point than just about anyone else, and I have to agree, the dude has got a spectacularly huge set of knockers hanging down between his muscular legs. I know that I will never forget the feeling of them in my hands, so huge and heavy and firm, so full of vibrancy and raw sexual power. And now their last few moments of life were steadily ticking away… 

It is time. I move to the microphone, and then I say my lines. 

“Mark Hanson, you have been found guilty of rape by a jury of your peers, and by the laws of this state you have been sentenced to have your testicles removed by firing squad. Does the prisoner have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?” 

I wait, and the microphone set into the collar just below his chin is turned on. The clock shows exactly one minute until noon, and depending on what he says and how long it goes we will be on schedule. I am hoping I scared him enough to make him apologize, as that always gives the victims some satisfaction and it is nice when I can make that happen. 

His deep voice cracks, and he stares at the beautiful woman in the front row who put him here. I can tell he wants to say something else, and his voice cracks again. For a second I think he’s going to once more proclaim his innocence and give his old arguments of being set up. But then he looks over at me, just a quick glance. I make a fist with my left hand, and insert the index finger of my right hand into the hole there, and push it in and out with a fucking motion. His face goes white and after that I know I’ve got him and I can almost see any thoughts he had of being defiant totally disappear. He looks at me one more time, and then back to the window and the faces looking at him. He stares at the final woman who he fucked, and then, weighing what he would gain against what he could lose, he begins to speak. 

“I… I’m sorry. I… didn’t… I mean… I’m sorry… and…” I can tell that Mark’s heart is in his throat, but he swallows past his fear and his voice comes out stronger. “I’m sorry that I… raped you. I’m sorry that I raped all of you. Please forgive me.” 

He looks down in shame, and his face going red as tears swell in his big cornflower blue eyes. After a few moments, he glances back at me, and I am looking at him with a stern expression on my face. I move my lips and silently mouth the word “MORE”. 

His eyes look abashed, but he gets the message. He then adds. “I… I deserve… I deserve to lose my balls.” 

YES!! I almost laugh with glee! He did it! He said it! The young fool! A sad, terrified, but hopeful Hanson looks over at me, but I’m smiling back at him with a big toothy grin. I wave to the technician and with a click I have his microphone turned off before he can change his mind or his words. At that same instant, a light goes red and the firing line goes hot. 

Like well oiled machines, the two panels in the floor right in front of the windows retract, and two sets of very large, very powerful-looking guns rise up from beneath the floor. Hanson’s eyes almost bug out of his head at the sight, and he shakes his head back and forth in terrified disbelief. The two guns almost look like old-fashioned gatling guns, as the thick tube of each gun is actually composed of a dozen separate barrels. But unlike a gatling gun or any other kind of machine gun, these two weapons are designed so that all twelve barrels in each gun fire simultaneously, sending two dozen bullets careening at incredible speeds into their waiting targets. And even as freakishly massive as Mark’s mighty man orbs are, two dozen bullets is MORE than enough firepower to make mincemeat out of his colossal bollocks. 

As the warden, it is my privilege to oversee these sexecution ceremonies, so I eagerly grab the microphone and hear my voice, clear and distinct, blare over the loudspeaker. 


Terror and fury war over Mark’s handsome face as he begins to shake his head and shout in protest. He is trying to madly recant his confession, but only I can hear him. The plexiglas wall is very thick, and his microphone is turned off, so all that the witnesses hear is a muffled and indistinct murmur. I have trapped the lad into a confession, and he knows that I’ve betrayed him. He turns his pleading eyes to me, and I simply laugh and wink back at him. He really panics then, shaking his head and thrashing wildly against his restraints, absolutely desperate in these final few seconds to break free. Even my eyes grow wide at the violence and power of his struggles, and he writhes and bucks so hard that he very nearly rips his own damn nuts off, but even his muscular might is no match for the chains of steel shackling him at wrist and ankle. Mark Hanson is helpless against the well-deserved punishment he’s about to receive. 


Mark REALLY starts to struggle now, thrashing so wildly that I fear he’ll tear himself apart! He’s desperate to get his precious balls out of the line of fire, and he’s tugging at them, pulling at them, jerking at them with a power and a violence that is difficult to describe. He thrusts forward and backward, again and again, almost looking like he’s madly fucking some invisible pussy, his grossly bloated horse cock stabbing into the air as he tries to free his balls. But his huge gonads don’t move a single millimeter, as the taut wire holds them utterly immobile. Damn, but the kid has one tough set of nuts! I can’t believe how hard he’s violently tugging on them! Any other man would have quickly castrated himself with such actions, but Hanson’s huge nuts remain firmly attached to his muscular crotch even now! It really does seem a shame to waste such a fantastic example of prime stud masculinity. 

He’s screaming continuously now, shouting, “NO!!! NO!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!”

Then, suddenly, despite everything, he starts to ejaculate. Despite the pain from the clamp biting into his cock shaft just beneath the swollen head, and the tough elastic cord pulling upward so hard that it threatens to rip his mighty cock out by the root. Despite the simultaneous strangulation and stretching of his agony-filled bull balls, choked off from his body and yanked down past the stud’s own knees. Despite the fact that those magnificent nuts, the mighty engines that have powered his supreme masculinity and unparalleled sexual prowess, were about to be obliterated forever. 

And what an orgasm it is! 

Mark’s entire body shudders, his huge muscles flexing and swelling to even greater dimensions, as his deep and guttural voice bellows, “OH… GODDDDD!!!!!” His mighty cock then flexes so hard that it rips the metal clamp right off of the shaft, freeing his throbbing meat and allowing it to drop to a lower angle, aiming it directly at the windows 20 feet away. And then he begins to pump out his load. 

Hanson starts shooting out by far the most massive and insanely intense orgasm I have ever seen. It’s a huge ejaculation, massive, epic, mind blowing in both its volume and its power. His cum squirts out of his prick in a rapid series of thick white ropes, shooting out in lush rhythmic pulsations one right after the other. The cum itself is blindingly white, so incredibly thick with sperm that it’s almost more solid than liquid, and it pumps out in unbelievably massive ropes and streamers of prime baby batter. 

Those mammoth wads of cum blast forth with such awesome force and power that they strike halfway up the plexiglas window a full 20 feet away, striking with loud, staccato ‘THWACK-THWACK-THWACK’ sounds and exploding across the glass like sperm shrapnel. Mark’s orgasmic emissions are aimed directly at that beautiful young woman in the front row, and she yelps in surprise as the first wad splatters across the window. Her resolve then shatters, and she begins to sob uncontrollably as she watches Hanson pump out his final load. It almost looks like the young man is trying to impregnate her again with his mighty seed, a fitting swan song for his fabled manhood. 

Mark’s blue eyes are glazed over with the intensity of his ejaculation, his jaw slack as his body is racked by what is almost certainly the single most powerful orgasm of his young life. And, of course, it is also his last. 

I actually delay my final command by several long seconds, letting the handsome lad pump out even more of his staggeringly copious bull load, but I have no intention of letting him finish. I raise the microphone to my lips and utter the final word. 

I never actually hear the final command. Instead, suddenly there is a shockwave of sound that is sudden and intense and has no bounds. It catches everyone by surprise and it is much louder than anyone was ready for. No matter how many times I hear it, I too am never ready when it comes. It literally ripples, echoing through the enclosed chamber as 24 shots ring out as one, and in that instant everything changes. 


Hanson is castrated so fast he doesn’t have time to realize it’s being done. One moment he is an alpha bull stud of the highest caliber, a paragon of manhood, and the next he is reduced to nothing more than a handsome, muscle-bound eunuch. He is staggered by the sound, and only then does he realize that it’s already happened. 

Dozens of eyes watch as Mark’s behemoth balls are blown to smithereens. They literally disintegrate in an instant, all of that thick, dense beef reduced to a cloud of red and pink mist. In less than the blink of an eye, there is absolutely nothing left between his legs where his bountiful balls were once hanging. The remains of his gigantic sac are now splattered against the wall behind him, an enormous mush of gray and pink and red goop that is utterly unidentifiable as having formerly been the biggest and most fantastically virile set of bollocks I’ve ever seen. There is nothing left between his legs to indicate he ever even had testicles, for his scrotum has been removed so cleanly that only a short length of scrotum and the two little green rubber donuts are left, still cinching the skin together that once grew down and into a magnificent pair of stud balls. 

Mark’s blue eyes are wide and a line of drool drips out of his slack mouth, his entire body quivering and shaking. His balls have just been vaporized, and his monumental orgasm has been brutally terminated in mid stream. His orgasm, as intense and satisfying as it was, has been snatched from him in the same instant that he lost his nuts, and now only the dull ache where his balls used to be remains. A thick line of pearlescent goo still hangs from the flaring head of his rock hard cock, chock full of his final sperm as an intact male. His huge, majestic cock is still twitching and throbbing, though his wad stopped squirting out the instant that his balls were pulverized by the bullets. The rest of his final load lies in thick lines on the cold cement floor and is plastered against the plexiglas window, turning a large portion of the window opaque with his nut scum. The lad’s splooge is so incredibly thick that huge slugs of the stuff slowly run down the plexiglas like molasses. It is a truly awe inspiring load, and it seems somehow fitting that it’s been wasted all over the wall and floor. 

As my hearing slowly returns, I hear the sound of crying and look into the witness room. Almost every single one of the women in the room is crying, some softly, some loudly, some hysterically. Two or three have even fainted. The men, on the other hand, look filled with bloodlust, their eyes blazing and triumphant sneers upon their leering faces. Oh yes, these men are more than glad to see the sentence carried out, and to witness the obliteration of Mark Hanson’s huge balls. 

As I watch, one of the pregnant women cries out in surprise, and a large puddle of clear fluid begins to spread beneath her legs. Holy shit, her water has broken! She’s going to give birth on the very same day that her rapist has lost his balls. I shake my head at the irony of it all. 

I turn back to Hanson, and it’s clear that he still doesn’t believe it’s really over. His cock remains stiff and proud for a few minutes more, riding sentry above the empty space where his colossal nuts once hung, and then it starts to sag and deflate. It almost looks like his mighty cock is signaling defeat in the way that it shrinks and collapses, until it is nothing more than a wet, limp noodle. Even soft, though, Mark’s flaccid cock is still impressive, long and thick and bloated, but I know it will never be inside another woman’s pussy again. 

I give a nod, and the curtain is closed on the witness window. It is done. It has gone well, and the castration of Mark Hanson is complete. I watch as the medical technicians enter the sexecution chamber and begin to undo the shackles that held the prisoner in position. He doesn’t fight them now, and he is meek and weak, floppy like a rag doll. Two technicians take him by his big arms and help him shuffle the wheel chair that will take him to the infirmary, his spent hose hanging like a dead worm between his legs. Without his balls or any trace of pubic hair, Mark now looks like a little boy down there, despite the enormous size of his limp dick. It reminds me that, without his nuts, his pubic hair won’t be growing back again, and that the jar in my office contains the very last of his manly crotch hair. The thought makes me smile with satisfaction. 

There is no fight left in him. No defiance whatsoever. The doctors will work on him, of course, but there won’t be a lot for them to do. They’ll basically just take off those two green rubber donuts, sew up the bottom of his vacant scrotum, and slap a bandage on his crotch. In a week or so, he’ll be released from the infirmary back into the main prison, where he will serve out the remaining five years of his sentence. 

As he is taken away, Hanson looks over his shoulder and we lock eyes one last time. I grin and give him a wink, and his faces blushes red with the embarrassment of what he has become. He’s totally defeated, and his defiance has evaporated along with his balls. As I watch him go, I think about his virgin hole, and how it was so tight and squeezed against my fingers as I probed them into him. Well, that’s about to change. Soon Hanson will find himself bent over a prison bed with a train of eager cocks wanting their release. One after the other, they will soon be pumping balls deep into his ass and filling him with their hot goo. It will be a taste of his own medicine, something that he richly deserves. By the time he gets out of my prison, his hole will be twice its current size, gaping and wrecked, and he’ll have sucked so many cocks that he won’t have a gag reflex anymore. Yeah, that thought makes me smile. One thing I know without a doubt is that I am going to have a really good time making sure that happens.