BDSM Library - Why I Hate Halloween

Why I Hate Halloween

Provided By: BDSM Library

Synopsis: Wrong guy caught and punished for a rape by being castrated and branded.

Why I Hate Halloween

By Forkedbeard

It was Halloween. I was dressed in a red Devil's outfit. Red from head to toe. Red hood, Red top and red tights. I had my trusty pitchfork as I was on my way to the party.

There was enough light to see but it wasn't bright since this was a residential area and they don't light them like downtown. A very pretty girl in a skimpy costume comes up to me and asks directions to an address that she says she knows is nearby but she can't find.

Well I offered to help, Pretty girl in a skimpy outfit, damsel in distress. I was ogling her charms as we talked. She seemed to enjoy the attention.

Thats when it happened. I felt a sharp pain. A needle, more specifically, a hypodermic needle in my neck. I tried to reach for it when the pretty young girl grabbed my hand and prevented me from reaching it. I was unconscious in a few moments.

When I awoke, I was strapped to a metal table. I looked around and all I could see was the white ceiling and white curtains all around me.

“Where am I?”

A female voice answered.

“Oh, you're awake. We'll be right with you.”

A moment later, the curtain at the foot of the table parted and three people came through. They wore surgical scrubs, masks and caps. All I could see of them was their eyes.

“We are so glad you're finally awake. You scumbag piece of shit rapist!”

Before she was finished, one of the others stuffed a ball gag in my mouth and secured it in place.

“You raped my sister.”

I shook my head no.

“Don't deny it. You fit the description to a tee. Red Devil costume with the trident, same height and build. It's you! You thought that the mask would hide your identity.

I was shaking my head from side to side trying to shout my denial around the gag.

“Well we caught you. Now we're going to punish you. We are going to take your balls. You won't even want sex anymore afterwards.”

My eyes went wide with fright and I shook my head faster and tried to shout “No!” around the gag.

“There are number of ways to castrate a male. There is a nice little pair of pliers. Sort of like a locking jaw pliers. They're used to crush all the blood vessels and nerves and the tube that carries your sperm to your penis. It is simple and quick. Only a minute or so. Then everything shrivels up a dies and is absorbed back into the body. Unfortunately we didn't have time to get one of those.”

“There's the elastorator. It is like a large very heavy duty rubber band. You stretch it out on a tool. Then you insert the ball sack and let the instrument allow the rubber band to snap back to its original size. It doesn't crush things so much as cut off the blood supply. After about half an hour it can't be reversed. Even if you cut off the band, the damage is done by that point. I like it because the pain is greater and lasts longer than the pliers. Unfortunately we don't have the instrument or rubber bands to do this.”

“Option three is to crush your balls. I like the possibilities for inflicting a maximum of pain over a period of time. But after the testes are crushed there is a lot of tissue in the ball sack and it tends to get infected. That requires hospitalization. We don't want you to die. We want you to suffer. But getting you to a hospital is risky for us.”

“That leaves us with option four. Cutting your balls off. There are a number of options on how to proceed. One large incision or two smaller ones. Of course if we remove the scrotum, that is immaterial. Get the pun?”

“If we leave the scrotum, you could go to a urologist and get him to do an operation to put in fake testicles. I believe they are called neutricals.”

Removing the scrotum leaves a much smoother and nicer look. It is however a more labor intensive procedure and there are more stitches involved.”

“Since you've been a good boy I think we might put in the extra labor to remove the scrotum for you as well. While you won't be able to get an erection. The ladies love the smoother look. No more wrinkly scrotum.”

“Oh, in case you are thinking of getting testosterone shots. They won't work as we are going to implant a number of timed release testosterone blockers throughout your body. Testosterone won't work for you for at least a couple of years. Sorry, no joy in Mudville there.”

“Ladies, if you would be so kind.”

The two others took off my shoes and socks. Then they took off my tights. Then my briefs.. They then secured my feet in stirrups like at a gynecologist’s that held my legs up and spread wide apart.

The first woman rolled up a cart with several metal trays on it so that it was against the end of the table. My balls which were hanging off the end of the table now rested on the cold metal tray.

“Sorry if it is a little cold. Just a moment.”

She grabbed my balls and lifted them up and put a cloth pad under my balls. She let them down again.

“Lift his head up and put some pillows under him. Then secure his head. We don't want him moving about. We want to be sure he has a good view and doesn't miss anything. Except maybe his balls.”

So I was forced to watch.

The stretched my scrotum and shaved it, then my pubic area. Then they applied a disinfectant and draped the area.

“Ready? Here we go. First some anesthetic. Not enough to kill the pain. Just reduce it. We don't want you to pass out from the pain. We want you to feel every little sensation as we cut off your balls.  We want you to remember every little detail.”

The needle stung when they put the anesthetic in my balls. A few minutes and the feeling was reduced.

“That should be enough time for the anesthetic to have taken effect. Two large incisions. Since the scrotum is going, it will make this easier and quicker. Enjoy.”

She took the proffered scalpel and began cutting on the left side of the scrotum. She cauterized the wound to reduce bleeding. She reached in and got my ball in her fingers and extracted it out through the hole. She tied off the cord and cinched it tight to reduce any bleeding. Then holding it with one hand, she used the scalpel to slowly cut through everything. She made sure that she was going slowly enough that I got plenty of pain and felt her cut through each component of the cord that attached my testicle. She then held it up and examined it.

“Good news! No testicular cancer!”

She dropped the testicle, my testicle in a tray with a thud.

“Now the other one.”

She repeated the procedure on my left side.

“Should we save them for you in some formaldehyde?”

I tried to tell them to save them, but with the gag, they couldn't understand what I was trying to say.

“Well since you don't seem to want them anymore. I think I will have them dried and made into earrings for my sister.”

Besides being in pain, I was by this time sobbing heavily. They cut my balls off and it's a case of mistaken identity. I didn't do it.

She then began humming to herself as she trimmed what was left of my scrotum and sewed it neatly across the bottom of my penis where the scrotum used to be.

“You know that little cauterizer we used? A nifty device. It basically burns the flesh to seal the wound. It's great for stopping bleeding. But it can be used for other things if you are creative. Scarification is one use. It leaves a scar that is raised. It is similar to a tattoo but raised. Almost like embossing it's a permanent branding.”

“We're going to leave you with two scarifications. The first will be the word rapist above your dick. A warning to others about what kind of miserable filth you are. We should do it on your forehead as well so that a woman won't have to get that close to you to see you for the filth you are.”

“The warning is for others. The next is our gift for you. We are going to do a scarification of all of your glans, your dick head. That's where all the nerves that make it pleasurable are. After scarification the nerves will be dead and covered with scar tissue. No more feeling. None, zilch, nada.”

“You can look forward to getting horny again after all the testosterone blockers wear off in a couple of years. You'll be able to get testosterone shots to get it up, but with no feeling, you won't be able to get off. The only way you'll be able to come is to get a gay guy to bugger you and massage your prostate with his dick up your ass.”

“After we're done with you, we'll sedate you again and leave you across the street from the hospital. Out of range of any cameras but close enough that you can make it to the hospital if you want.”

It was painful as they didn't use any anesthetic. The paced themselves to maximize my pain and keep me from passing out.

Then they gave me as shot of sedative.

I awoke down the street from the hospital and managed to drag myself to the emergency entrance before passing out again.

I awoke in a bed with an IV line in my left arm which was strapped to the bed. The staff was not very friendly. In fact they seemed downright hostile. The looks from the nurses would have killed me if they could. No one would talk to me, just glare at me.

“Finally a detective came in and took my statement. He said that they caught the guy who did the rape an hour or so after I was taken. He was caught in the middle of raping another girl a few blocks away from where I had been abducted.

After he talked to the nurses and doctors, they were very solicitous and nice to me as they realized I wasn't a rapist, but a victim of a very brutal mutilation. They did what they could to make me comfortable.

They offered to cover the rapist scar by adding more scarification to make a new design. I made sure they used a lot of pain killers. They were sorry, but nothing could be done about my castration and the removal of my scrotum. The head of my penis was a lost cause and I would never get the feeling back.

They found a couple of the testosterone blockers, but not enough of them so now I am impotent for a couple of years. At least they say that I should get the function back eventually. They suggested using a penis pump to at least keep everything exercised. But with no feeling in the glans of my penis, what's the point.

So yes I am a fucking miserable SOB who hates Halloween. Can you blame me?

The End

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