Chapters The corridor was white and empty. The white fluorescent lamps on the ceiling flooded the space with harsh, cold light. There was no one, no noise, no hoofsteps anywhere in the stretch of empty space, except the ominous buzz from the electric lights. The air within the corridor almost stood still, filling the void with an unsettling presence, threatening to suffocate anyone between the walls.
Unsettling was the right word for Night Novel. He sat on a single bench by the wall, staring at the white floor tiles, perturbed by the following event he must endure.
He huffed and frowned as he pawed the ground apprehensively, frustrated by the inability to change his fate. What did he do? Why was he punished? He wondered. Wondering was the only thing left he could do. He waited nervously for somepony to take him further down the procedures while trying hard not to think about what would happen. But he failed miserably as the thoughts of the operation kept flooding his mind. He tensed and closed his hind legs together at the distressing thought, helplessly trying to calm down and comfort himself.
He felt abandoned and lonely. He was upset at how he must go through such a big change to his life, and body, alone. He was upset at being taken from his mother by the guards – he wondered if his mother loved him still. But she must of course, mustn't she? He asked himself. That was his mother, and a mother always loves her child. He recalled the caring face of her mother looking at him as he hid inside his mother's embrace. But he also recalled her ending the embrace and offering him to the guards. Did she abandon me? He questioned. But, he knew, no one would answer.
His heart was still thumping rapidly. His abdomen was still hurting, both from the anxiety and the imaginary pain of what he would go through. He looked down between his legs and touched the two round bulges under his sheath. Why must they take these away from me? Was there something wrong with how I was born? I wasn't sick or anything, why did they need to cut them off? He looked at his jewels which have been with him for 16 years, and now, they would be removed from his body. He didn't understand the entire ordeal, nor did he understand why he was terrified of the procedure, but he knew, he was having something precious taken away.
He looked down the hallway again and again. He didn't want anypony to come, of course, but he didn't want to endure the waiting either. Should I wish for the inevitable to postpone, or should I want my operation to hurry? He thought. But, he knew, his thoughts would change nothing.
He looked at the floor tiles again, and sighed.
* * *
Rumble flailed and screamed as the guards took him away from his brother. More guards came in to aid the restraint, and compared to the strength and training of several guards, the young colt was no match. Rumble cried as he was dragged away from the only pony who still loved him. He did not know the reason for his capture, but he knew the guards were to mean him harm, and he was horrified.
The guards chained his neck and dragged him through a maze of corridors, all of which covered in white paint, white floor tiles and lit with white fluorescent lamps. The colt's mind was in chaos as he followed the guards. Everything was happening too fast for Rumble, from his parents disowning their sons to the guards taking away his brother, the grey colt was too shocked and too scared to react. The pain of his parents' betrayal was still fresh on his heart, but now he was even more distressed by his approaching fate. He still could not understand why he must be separated from Thunderlane, and he was uncertain what would happen next.
They kept on walking from corridors to corridors, and the guards yanked Rumble's chain once in a while to hurry him up. But except for the dreary sound of the chains, their hoofsteps and Rumble's sniveling cry, there was no other noise. The guards said nothing, somber and emotionless, not even batting an eye on the prisoner. They knew what the young colt had to endure, but they felt no sympathy for him. They couldn't even care less for the thousands of stallions they would escort. Since they knew they were fortunate enough to be exempt from the ordeal, and dare not to disobey and lose their privilege and balls.
* * *
Night Novel's heart jumped from his chest as he heard hoofsteps approaching. He looked towards the end of the corridor while the ominous clopping noise came closer and closer. He gulped and heaved, stomach filled with million butterflies, as he anticipated the guards to take him to his operation. He has been mentally preparing himself for the last hour, but nevertheless, he wouldn't be ready to have his jewels cut off. Cold sweat was dripping from his face. A dull pain was building in his throat. He watched the corridor as he desperately tried to restrain his frantic mind.
But, it was no guards. Surely, those were guardspony, but they weren't coming for him. Night Novel was confused when he saw a young pony in chains. He was relieved as he knew they were not here for him, but depressed as he knew what this poor colt would endure. He looked at the guards while they looked back, still somber and emotionless, and marched through the corridor. He looked at Rumble as they walked pass; Rumble glanced back with his red watery eyes, wondering who this olive pony was. Their greetings were short-lived. They didn't know each other, but they shared their grieve and fear with just a quick glance.
The guards took Rumble further down the corridor. Night Novel watched their rump swaying as they walk, balls still intact for the prisoner and the guards. He grunted, and then sighed.
* * *
Rumble's heart halted for a second as the guards stopped in front of a door. "Room 101", the white metallic door was labeled. Rumble noted; he noted he would be forever altered in Room 101. The guards said nothing to Rumble, nor did they try to explain. One of the guards pressed on a touch panel next to the door, and the door slid open as swift as a swinging knife. They wasted no time and pulled Rumble inside, whose hooves were frozen from fear.
Rumble's mind was filled with apprehension as he processed the sight. The room was an operating theater. The walls, floors and lights were as white as the corridors. It felt sterile and cold, accented by the medical equipment and metallic tools. At the center of the room sat two inclined medical chair, back-to-back, padded with black leather, solemnly waiting for the condemned to squat on. The leg rests were raised and spread, giving an easy access to their victims' precious. A mobile tray stood next to the chairs, holding two rows of surgical tools neatly laid across the top. There were scissors, scalpels and forceps, and they were as sharp as their reflecting glares cutting through Rumble's horrified expression.
Rumble could not even take in the room's ambience before the guards held him up and sat him on the chair. They hooked the chains to the seat, and secured the colt's four hooves with cuffs built-in to the hoofrests. Rumble couldn't even struggle, as he laid on the chair involuntarily, heaving and gasping in air, a thousand times more frightened than his last dental appointment. He wanted to vomit from all the anxiety, and as he propped up his head and saw how exposed and vulnerable he was, he felt even sicker. His penis was flaccid and tucked deep inside his sheath, but his balls – they were bulging out into the open air, oblivious of how very soon they would be dead and separated from their warm, caring father.
Rumble struggled against the chains but to no avail. He begged the guards to let him go as they headed out of the room, but they didn't answer. He struggled more in hopes to be freed, but after a while, he knew his fate was sealed.
Rumble heaved, and then started to cry.
* * *
Down another white corridor a stallion was dragged across by four guardspony with chains and brute force. This grey stallion was not going down without a fight, as he kicked and flailed and screamed with his back screeching against the white, waxed floor tiles. But was it even worth fighting when there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and no hope for change to be found? The four guardspony understood, as they dragged their victim to his fate, and grimly accepted the fate cursed upon stallions across the nation.
"Let me go!" Thunderlane screamed, and surprisingly the guardspony did stop. Before Thunderlane could finish his smirk he looked up and saw into the cerulean eyes of a snow while mare. She wore a nurse hat and a femme fatale grin, and she seemed excited to see her next patient already lying belly up for her. Thunderlane would have used this pause to make a run for it, but guessing she would be his surgeon, he couldn't help but thought of the procedure, and that sent a dull, gnawing pain down to his crotch, freezing his body and mind in place. That was enough for the nurse to secure her prey.
"Hi there, big stud, aren't you eager to see me?" she smirked, still savoring the scene of an exposed, unfixed colt in front of her, "I'm Nurse Redheart, and I'll be treating you today," she traced her hoof along Thunderlane's sweat soaked temples, "Don't you worry my colt, with me, you'll love every snip I'll do for you today." She laughed, and signaled the guard to drag her prey into her domain.
* * *
Night Novel heard hoofsteps again coming from the corridor. Would they be another group of guards? Would it be just another passer-by? For anything he wish those hoofsteps weren't here for him. "I don't want to do it, I can't take it at all! I'm sorry! Please don't do this to me, please…" he begged. His stomach was filled with butterflies –. He's waited for so long, they'd have him wait even longer, right? He looked at the source and saw a pink mare with a nurse gown walking down the hallway. Please walk pass me nurse, he begged, please I couldn't do it…
The hoofsteps stopped, in front of him.
His heart sank, and then started thrashing against his chest.
He looked up, and saw into a pair of vibrant blue eyes. He gulped.
"Good afternoon, young stallion, I'm Nurse Sweetheart," she chuckled, "I'm here for your procedure."
Night Novel was still sitting on his bench silently, too scared and reluctant to accept his fate.
"C'mon, little colt, you have nothing to worry about," she giggled even more, "just two quick snips and you're all set! Simple and painless, I've done this a thousand times. It's just a simple, minor, procedure."
"Just two quick snips, and it's all going to be. Just. Fine."
She smiled.
Night Novel could feel he wanted to cry.
Thunderlane swerved his head around frantically, taking in the horror of the cold metallic operating room he was locked in. He cocked his head and looked between his propped up hind legs, staring at his exposed sheath and the set of plump, round orbs beneath. He sweated, heaved and writhed against the medical chair he was chained to, but the metal cuffs against his hooves were too resilient for even the toughest buck. He swayed his head over his shoulders to find the nurse, who was preparing her tools on the bench against the wall.
Thunderlane was exasperated and sullen and scared. Part of him wanted to cry about this atrocity; part of him just wanted to cry from his incapability to save himself. The desperation and overwhelming dismay drove him closer and closer to madness. Like a bucking bronco he kicked and thrashed and wailed in his chair, but that just showed how helpless and undignified he was. Nothing was changed; he was still going to be gelded.
The nurse kept minding her preparations despite the clatter from the patient. Maybe she was used to the stallions' struggles. Maybe she was enjoying the sound of a helpless, desperate male. She continued to scrub her hooves with content and put on a pair of cerulean latex gloves, while Thunderlane stared at the indifferent nurse's rear with frustration and despair.
But eventually, he muttered.
"W-why are you doing this?"
"Hmm?" The nurse swayed her head to face the stallion for the first time.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to us? T-this is cruel and unjust! I have done nothing to deserve this—"
"Now now," the nurse soothed as she inched towards the patient, "I understand you might feel a bit frisky right now, but this is for your own good — for everypony's good," she smiled as she traced her hoof along the back of Thunderlane's ears, "It's important for us to snip off those dangling bits of yours so they don't take control of you."
Thunderlane shivered as his captor grazed over his sensitive ears. "This is insane… hurting me doesn't solve anything— I didn't do anything wrong!—"
Redheart continued to caress her patient's soft, fluttery ears. "Your ears are so soft, such a cutie~" she giggled.
Thunderlane shivered once again. "H-hey stop that! Are you even listening? Please! Let me go!"
The nurse gently grazed her hooves along her captor's face from his ears to the temple to the jaw and to the neck, savoring the soft gray fur and the radiant heat of the mustang. Thunderlane wasn't the biggest fan of this unwanted contact, however, as he shivered and scrunched against the intrusion. Was she toying with him? Did she even cared? Thunderlane could not tell. The soft, mollifying touch of a young, curvy mare should be an enticing event, but Thunderlane couldn't feel much aroused. He yearned for a young mare's touch for sure, but not like this. Not when his body was going to be mutilated.
Redheart lifted her hoof off Thunderlane's complexion almost reluctantly as she reached for her tray of surgical tools. Humming a twisted nerve, she lightheartedly unscrewed a vessel of betadine and wet a gauze using forceps till brown nonchalantly but professionally. She then turned back and watched the stallion lying on the chair, propped up, muscles tensed and glistened as anxiety and sweat toned and contrasted his firm, strapping, well-built frame. She eyed the stallion's exposed sheath and plump scrotum with passion, noting how tight and loaded his orbs were, and how they stuffed the tight, black, round skin underneath the stallion's staff of pride.
Thunderlane could tell his captor was going to start the procedure and panicked. The medical equipments did no good to his nerves. He started bucking again.
"No. No! Let me go! Please what have I ever done to you? I'm sorry please don't geld me please!" His voice trembled as he started to understand the futility of his cries.
"Hush now, it's going to be fine," the nurse giggled as she hovered closer to his orbs, "I have done this thousands of times, I'll try and make sure it doesn't hurt." She moved her hooves and pressed the betadine gauze against the stallion's scrotum. Softly, of course, as if she was teasing the mustang, or as if it was part of the procedure. Still, Thunderlane shivered as his sensitive bits was wet with the icy cold anesthetics. He groaned while Redheart gently circled the gauze along the curvature of his testicles. Thunderlane tensed up further, shivering and shaking from fear and reflex while mewling on the chair like a foal who doesn't want to be fed. Redheart soothed the stallion and gently brushed his scrunching face, while applying more force to thoroughly cover the incision area with the liquid. Soon, Thunderlane's scrotum was covered with brown betadine.
Redheart moved away from Thunderlane and disposed the gauze onto the tray. The colt was watching her all the time, heaving, whimpering, feeling both angry and scared. He tucked against the cuffs on his hooves again, hoping the gods would be on his side for once, but no. He was not escaping. As he looked down at his scrotum and the set of chunky balls for possibly the last time, as he thought of those late night "bathroom uses", as he thought of those moments when he courted with mares, and as he thought of how he would be castrated into a lesser being, he could no longer held back the tears of angst and agony. Countless thoughts and conflicting emotions rushed into his head. Dear Celestia , he cried, why oh why must this happen to me? Please oh please stop it help I beg the Gods I don't want to be gelded I'm really scared!
Then, nothing. As if some random epiphany has stuck him, his train of thought simply disappeared. Perhaps an overload of fear and shame and sense of futility has finally caught up with him. The idea that there was nothing he could do finally sounded reasonable. Chained in a facility deep in the caves and guarded by countless elite guards, was there ever a chance to escape? And even if he escaped, where could he hide? Where could he live? How could he survive? It was either starving as an escaped convict somewhere in the Equestrian mountains or a life of peace and stability as a castrated servant. Sure, he would have to give up his dignity, but between saving his dignity and saving his life, the latter sounded much, much better.
And so he cried. And cry he did, loud and painful, somber and despaired. All the angst and anger and agony and apprehension accumulated inside of him from the moment he and his brother was caught in their home were unleashed along with his epiphany on the situation. He wailed and cried and yelped and sobbed until every ounce of tears and pleas inside of him has drained into the void. He sniffed and sniveled on the chair, ears lowered, and accepted his fate to be a gelding for the rest of his life.
Redheart was slightly disappointed, as she was hoping for a patient with a stronger mind to have fun with. She was expecting her patient to plead or beg or struggle, but all she could hear was the soft, sad sobs from the deflated colt. Thunderlane had nothing more to say. Thunderlane's heart has lost their colors the moment he finally succumb to the Goddess' decree: Silence is golden. Resistance is futile. Obedience is peace.
Redheart cupped and fondled the stallion's jewels with her hoof to see if the anesthetic has kicked in, and also to savor the heaviness and meatiness of the lustrous orbs bulging from the numbed pocket for the last time. The texture and plushness were too enticing and delicious for the mare. Too bad they had to be excised, she thought, but the orchiectomy was even more exciting.
The colt said nothing. He only flinched as he saw the mare cupping and toying his most precious, but sadden as he couldn't feel them anymore. Was this how it would feel for the rest of his life? Was this the final moment? Did these questions even matter?
Was irony the only thing left inside of him? His shaft poked out of his sheath as he watched the mare rubbing his jewels. It grew and pulsed until it reached its full length, despite the imminent castration he was going to receive. Why was he turned on? He was petrified and sicken about this entire gelding story, but why did he feel thrilled and fascinated by the ordeal? He stared at the tip of his penis as he thought about his testicles being dumped onto the emesis basin as medical waste. Those pink round oval balls laced with strands of reddish capillaries of his imagination made him sick, yet filled him with a rush of adrenaline and dopamine that flushed his body and heart with a glowing heat and lust. No, he cried to himself, I cannot be enjoying myself, he scolded, I'm scared to the bones right now, why am I turned on, by this? By being gelded? By being humiliated and emasculated?
"Guess somepony's enjoying themselves," the nurse chuckled, as she watched and traced the twitching dick growing in front of her. She wanted to suck on it, give it a taste, or even give this stud "one last ride" as a treat, but sadly the guidelines prohibited such thing. She was a professional, who had a strike on her record for misdemeanor, surely she was not going to ride this quite impressive stallionhood for her own enjoyment, was she? What a waste, she thought, he had a fine package. It'd have been satisfying for her and for him. But it's all going down the waste.
The best she could do, she thought, was giving his tip a farewell kiss. She hoped this would at least give the stallion some solace, or a peace of mind in the future. Or an apology.
She grabbed a piece of rope and bundled his penis with his abdomen, so that its movements would not affect her work. She eyed the stallion once more to check if she had missed anything, then she grinned, from her work.
And so it began. Redheart held a scalpel in her hoof and pressed it against the stallion's anesthetized pouch. He didn't feel pain or anything at all, but only the pressure against the general area. She pushed the blade deeper, piercing through the nerves, through the dermis, through the fat and through the capillaries, which gave in to the sharp edge and started spilling the sweating stallion's blood. Thunderlane tensed, not from pain or discomfort, but from the mental fear and dread about his situation, the blood and the release he'd never get. Redheart delicately dragged the blade along the scrotal septum, gently and slowly opening up the pouch from the center. Layer by layer the skin gave way, first the rough, dark dermis where the hair follicles were, then the milky, smeary layers of tough, stretchy connective tissues that made up the under layers of the sack. Blood were seeping from the wounds, but nothing severe. Redheart promised to the stallion to do a clean and professional job.
Thunderlane couldn't make up his mind to look at the procedure or not. Every part of his brain cried in fear about witnessing his castration, but a lone voice deep in his subconscious urged him to peek at the cutting of his jewels. Goddess forbids, that lone voice persuaded the colt to perk up his head and watch. The nurse's repeated motion along the incision area bisected more and more layers of his scrotum, deeper and deeper into the sacred chamber that housed his family jewels. The strands of blood lingering on the wound, the delicate motion of the nurse's hoof, and the fact that his scrotum was being cut open sent an icy chill down the stallion's spine. It was a chill both of horror and excitement. The idea that part of his stallionhood was removed gave him… dirty thoughts. He didn't understand. What kind of sick irony was this? His shaft twitched involuntarily against the rope as the image of a smooth, empty skin where his scrotum have been was lodged in his head. He winced and cursed silently, but he kept watching it.
Before he knew it, Redheart has reached the final layer of his precious pouch. With another slice, the tissue split and opened up the cavity to the world. It was both eerie and engrossing to Thunderlane; he leaned his head forward to see his stallionhood cut open cleanly and completely. In any other situation, seeing his jewels wounded in such a way would scare the life out of him, but right now… right now it was captivating. What's inside? How wide could the opening stretch? What would the nurse pull out?
Redheart put away the scalpel and gave his sack a delicate nudge. Gently squeezing from the side, she pushed the shy testicles on her left towards the opening. It was tough to push the slimy balls around the sack, but with skills and determination, she managed to push the pale, squishy orb against the incision. And with a silent pop, Thunderlane's family pride popped through the narrow slit, and dangled outside his scrotum only from a single fatty cord.
His orb was huge, bigger and meatier than average. It was oval and plush, warm with the radiance of life. Network of capillaries was just visible along the surface, supplying the organ that fathered billions and trillions of Thunderlane's seeds with blood and nutrients. The epididymis, thick and spongy, capsuled one side of the foalmaker, bridging Thunderlane's body and this priceless, delicate jewel. But this wonderful pride and essence of Thunderlane was now just dangling in the air, exposed and vulnerable, pulsing with the last few bits of strength and vitae. This pale meaty flesh with strands of reddish vessels was everything to Thunderlane. But outside its protection and warmth, it was dying, and world very soon be dead.
The sight of his very own testes just hanging from a cord of arteries trembled the colt. The fear of blood and guts certainly contributed to the nausea he was feeling, but so was the curiosity to touch it, to feel it, to tuck at it and to see it being handled. This pink mess was the essence of his masculinity, and the key to his lineage. Redheart gave it a gentle squeeze, and that elicited a loud moan from Thunderlane. "No…" he protested, but most of him found the sight overwhelmingly erotic. No… he denied, I can't be aroused by that… but he couldn't deny the clear fluids bubbling from the tip of his shaft. Touch it, squeeze it, pull it out… he begged. His primal lust and curiosity was taking over his sanity, and he was losing to the perverted excitement that was growing inside.
Redheart's heart flushed as she saw the wonderful orb in front of her eyes. The pulse, the radiance, the texture… the sight of a stallion's ball dangling helplessly outside his body aroused the pony to great extent. She wanted to suck on it, to bite into it, to nibble and chew through the tender and fragile tissues and veins of her patient's foalmaker. But she knew she would get into trouble for it. Didn't somepony mentioned female castration? She tried to recall.
With her hooves and some surgical wires, she tied two knots on Thunderlane's spermatic cord. She made sure she tuck the wires extra tight, savoring the empowering sensation of killing this colt's sexuality, and also preventing hemorrhage. She gave the orb a last few seconds of life, and positioned a pair of surgical scissors between the knots. She looked at Thunderlane's pale face, then scissored away the vessels and fat. A few seconds more, and with the final snip, the cord was severed, and the testicle fell off.
Redheart dumped the organ on the emesis basin and continued to work. In her mind she was squealing in excitement from detaching the stallion's testicle, but she always liked to cut the second testicle better. While nopony would want to loose any one of their balls, but a stallion could still inseminate with just one of those nuts. She examined the remaining withering cord, and was glad about her surgical skills and the cleanliness of the incision. She then continued to grope at Thunderlane's scrotum for the remaining testicle. She tucked gently to squeeze the last orb through the incision in the scrotum and held it with her hoof. The weight, the heat, the pulse of life of Thunderlane's foalmaker was intoxicating, and Thunderlane's extra size and plushness made her drool from her mouth and behind. With one more snip and she could own his jewels forever. She could own Thunderlane's masculinity forever.
She tied the knots again on his spermatic cord, then looked at Thunderlane. The last one, they both thought, the point of no return. Thunderlane's curiosity has now started to be replaced by fear and remorse, and Redheart started to feel sorry for the colt. Why would the Princess give such an order of gelding most of the population? Why did she feel extremely satisfied when castrating somepony else? Was life different several months before? When did these even started? She questioned the work she was forced to do, but the emotional thrill permeating every fibers of her nerves overcame the hesitation and doubt. If she was allowed to touch herself she would have climaxed by now. She positioned the scissors at the incision point. Both of them watched intently as the final testicle was being removed. To Thunderlane, the anticipation was even greater. After this, he thought, and he could never rear a foal. His load would be watery and lack of sperm. His muscles would atrophy. He would look like a mare. And whenever he get an erection — if he could even get one — the empty, withered, wrinkled skin beneath his shaft that once housed his proud testicles would announce to any peepers that he was a gelding, a lesser colt, a pony who has lost his jewels. His weak penis would be empty, hanging from his pelvis without purpose, like a lump of atrophied meat. And the most gnawing fact of all, was that castration was irreversible. In the next second as the nurse clipped the cord, there would be no way back. Gelding was forever.
With only a gaze between the eyes as confirmation, Redheart forced the two scissor blades together. The fat and vessels gave way easily, and as the last string of tissue is severed, the testicle fell into Redheart's cupping hoof. She took the oval away from the scrotum and put it on Thunderlane's abdomen, showing with great certainty that both orbs were removed from Thunderlane's body. Thunderlane watched with great revelation on the situation — they did it. They gelded him. He was not a stallion anymore. He could feel the remaining heat of his testicles fading away, and the emptiness beneath his shaft. It felt different, it felt erotic, it felt wrong. But it didn't matter now. For he was castrated. He was a gelding. He was stallion no more.
Thunderlane took the facts fairly well actually, Redheart thought, as most colts would break down and cry at this point. But due to either bravery or simply pure shock, Thunderlane could simply stare at his former foalmaker, one now resting on his abdomen and one on the tray. Redheart gently took his testes and put them into Thunderlane's tied hoof, giving him a chance to feel his severed organs the first and very last time. Thunderlane examined his orbs with his hoof curiously and frightfully, shivering as the wetness, fading warmth and tender texture of his former balls felt eerie to him. It strengthened the idea that he was a gelding now, a lesser colt with no seed. Well, technically there was some remaining semen within his system. But this wasn't something Redheart couldn't fix .
Thunderlane's eyes grew in shock and confusion as he felt a familiar sensation on his shaft. Redheart's hooves were stroking the former stallion's meat after she sutured his scrotum when he was contemplating on his balls. His erection has lasted throughout the surgery, and while it was fading due to new circumstances, Redheart worked hard to keep his penis hard and long. Thunderlane was confused, surprised, pleasured and frightful to his treatment. After all this was technically sexual assault, were he born as a mare that is. But the tending did feel good, and he wanted release, perhaps at least for the last time. He was struggling between giving in to the sensation despite it being from rape, or become abhorred by the nurse's further humiliation and ruining his last chance.
"What… what are you doing?" He probed. Hoping to find a meaning out of this.
"Well I'm flushing the remaining semen out of your reproductive system. While you probably can't get enough libido to orgasm anymore, we can't risk and stray cum knocking up us mares can we?" Redheart smiled as she looked at the gelding, then suddenly popped his member into her own mouth and started to suckle on the thick, fleshy meat. Thunderlane moaned softly, both in lust and sadness, as Redheart bobbed her head on his stick while flickering her tongue and gently nudging his empty scrotum. Thunderlane could feel the different sensation from how Redheart touched his pouch. Emptiness, lightness, wonderfully smooth and non-encumbered were some words to describe the sensation. His gelding curiosity and Redheart's wonderful oral skill was bringing him to release, albeit deep down his core he was sobbing in humiliation and defeat to care much about his lust or his life anymore. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy Redheart's blowjob as much as possible, and trying to ignore the fact that some part of him has died already, literally and figuratively.
In just a few minutes, he came into Redheart's mouth. With a few moaning and convulsing pulse, his last load of fertile seed was dispensed into the nurses hungry stomach. That's it. That was all. With little fanfare or orchestral ending, he was now a truly infertile gelding.
Thunderlane moaned as Redheart swallowed his last sample of seed that could have been frozen for fathering his children in vitro, but alas, the last drop was eaten by his castrator. His penis withered back into his body as the clear fluids coated his abdomen and most of Redheart's cheek. He laid down on his back, watched as Redheart threw his balls into an autoclave trash bin, and finally started to sob.
"N-now what?" He somberly asked.
"Now, you walk down the hallway with the escort to meet with the secretary. She will assign you a role in our society where you can fit in and work." She gently wiped his tears, "Aww don't cry, being a gelding is fun. I was told you'll have a greater lifespan, your mind is less encumbered with fantasies of sex, and besides, if you were to be called by a mare for sexual services, you don't have to worry about accidentally rearing a foal of yours. Zero liability. It's a sure win. Being a gelding is not bad, for you and for all of us." She smiled.
Thunderlane said nothing. He had many things he wanted to say, but there was nothing to be said.
For the last 20 years of his life, had he thought his fate would bring him onto this path? He had wished to find his special somepony, settle down, maybe in Ponyville, and have a family of his own. And if his foal were a pegasus, he could teach him all the tricks to flying, and all the skills he learned as a Wonderbolts candidate. He had always wondered what race his foal might be, but it seemed he would never know. He could never have a family. He could never have a life. The life of a gelding was a life of servitude. That was the reason behind castrating ponies. A horse without balls were tasked with chores and nothing more by their masters, and for Thunderlane, the masters were the collective mares in Equestria that were now above all stallions, and certainly above all geldings like him.
He did not know what lie ahead of him. He could not imagine where his life would lead. But he know the life he had known was long gone; his life was dead with the death of his balls. Today he began his new life as a gelding, and he could not be less anxious to find out where his gelding life would lead.
The gelding waited silently for the escort to come. The mare tidied up her tools for the next colt to come.
And the sun hung high over Equestria.
***
Meanwhile, in another room within the facility…
Author's Note
Finale coming soon.
Side B2 | The Juicier Part
For the longest time, the young gray colt waited for something to happen to him — or more precisely, not happen to him. Chained to a bed in a room alone, Rumble cried and wailed and pleaded for the longest time for anypony who might hear his agony to save him. As a young colt, his knowledge on sex was sparse, but even a young mind like him could sense the gravity of the situation and feel the horror he was in. A horror that brought Rumble to a constant stream of tears.
Sob, sob. After a period of time, Rumble's ominous cry was reduced to a sniveling sob. Exhausted but still terrified, he whimpered on the bed and wondered what would happen to him. Oh, how much he wished his brother would be here, bursting the doors open and swooping in to his rescue. Little did he knew that even his brother, whom he looked upon the most, has succumbed to the same fate that was cursed upon thousands of colts and stallions in Equestria in just several nights. No matter how much Rumble was praying for his brother to save him, his brother was no longer able to do so.
So Rumble started to cry again.
* * *
Night Novel followed Nurse Sweetheart down the hallway and arrived at a simple door on the right. The nurse opened the door and invited him in. Night Novel stepped into the medium-sized examination room, only to find a young colt tied to one of the two bed at the center of the place. Both of them exchanged glances at each other, looking confused.
"Sorry to have you guys sharing the room," said Nurse Sweetheart, while getting her equipment ready at the corner of the room, "We really don't have enough space for all the stallions in Equestria. But, it doesn't really matter, does it? I'm sure you colts will get along."
She gestured Night Novel to sit on the vacant bed. Rumble watched as this stranger sat down obediently and screamed in his head at the stranger for not struggling and attempting to flee. More importantly, he thought, why wasn't this stallion his rescuer but another victim walking straight into his demise? Rumble watched as the blue stallion sat on the bed, spread his legs, and waited for the nurse to come.
Rumble struggled again against his restraint, asking the stranger to help him escape. What are you doing? He said. Help untie me, please! He pleaded. But the stallion only looked away from the young colt crying next to him, ashamed of his cowardice, trying to suppress his urge to escape. Better obey than to risk his life, he thought. What's a quick surgery compared to the execution of the runaways? He was never a hero, and he wasn't going to be one now.
The nurse returned to the colts with a moving tray at her side. On the tray were surgical tools such as scalpels, clamps and syringes filled with saline or anesthetics. She sat in front of Night Novel and opened the packet of disinfected gloves, then slid them over her hooves, while humming to the stallions.
"So, according to the instructions I received," she tooted while she opened a pack of disinfectant wipes, "you are not only to have your testicles removed, but your penis as well."
The words shocked the stallion. His eyes widen and his mind blanked out for a second in disbelief. "W…what?"
She giggled, "Yes my dear, it was written in red on your records. It's an honor, really, since they really need those scepters for the magic".
Rumble wailed even harder against his bed, while Night Novel laid still on his. The nurse casually picked up a green rubber band and loaded it onto an elastrator, then stretching the thick, hard ring open with the jaw of the device. She eyed the two ponies, wondering whose delicate shaft she should band first.
She walked towards Night Novel and his flaccid member, which was tucked mostly within his sheath. Laying spread, his groin was exposed to everypony in the room. Sweetheart gingerly wrapped her hoof around the stallion's sheath and rubbed, pleasuring both the stallion and feeding her dominating desires. She rubbed the stallion's flesh like a janitor wiping a desk, deliberately coarse and uncomfortable but effective at its purpose. Night Novel squirmed and wiggled his pelvis as the nurse's hoof pushed painfully against his delicate organ, as if his pride was just something to be harvested. But his pride was weaker than his courage, growing harder and longer despite the rough handling by his captor. Soon, his member was fully unsheathed, exposed and eager to be touched.
"My my, look at you," the nurse chuckled as she admired the turgid meat in front of her, "you are much more eager than the stallions I just did. I thought with the current circumstances, I'd have trouble getting you up. Well, are you sure you aren't hoping it to come off?"
Night Novel looked at the nurse between his groin, blushing, too ashamed of himself to speak nor think.
But the pony quickly snapped out of his trance when the nurse lowered the elastrator over his member. The tight green band was stretched taut by the four prongs of the device. The nurse gingerly threaded the stallion's bouncing member through the ring, pressing the jaw of the tool deep against the stallion's groin. Carefully, the nurse weakened the grip of the device, and the jaw slowly closed onto the base of the shaft. The green ring grew tighter and thicker as it pressed firmly against the stallion's hard, erect meat, constricting further still as the elastrator loosed its tension to keep it open.
Night Novel whimpered and wailed against the bed as the band dug deeper and deeper into his flesh. The green rubber pressed against the meat and formed a recessed trench encircling the base of his shaft. Yet deeper still, the band continued to constrict, clenching the urethra and blood vessels of his shaft shut. Night Novel could feel a nauseating pain growing from the site of the banding, and the pulsing pressure building in his shaft as the blood began to be trapped in his banded member. Nurse Sweetheart carefully wiggled the teeth of the elastrator off the completely tightened band, fighting against its force which pressed the prongs of the elastrator tightly between the rubber and the shaft. One by one, the nurse pulled the prongs off the rubber, leaving only the green ring squeezing tightly at the base of the shaft.
Night Novel moaned as his member was left standing on its own, pulsing as the restricted circulation tried to force itself through the clasp. His member still stood hard and erect above his groin, bobbing up and down a little under its own volition. Thick veins that were unseen before throbbed at the surface of the shaft, growing bigger and more bluish as more blood became trapped in the upper compartment of the shaft. A bulge above and below the band was visible, making the recessed band look deeper than it was, as if the band was going to cut through the diameter just from the elastration alone. The meat above the band was even more turgid and meaty than before, swelling inside the dark gray skin as if it was going to explode. Even just seconds later, the skin started to darken and tinted blue, turning into a shade of blue and indigo in just a few minutes.
Night Novel could not help but reach down to his suffocating member with his hoof. He rolled his hoof along the base of his shaft, feeling the band gripping tightly at his stallionhood. His upper shaft quickly grew numb and tingling, even with his hooves nudging and gripping his member up and down. He whinnied and look the nurse, as if pleading for his release, but nothing ever came out of his mouth. He sat still with his member pulsing naturally in his hoof, bobbing up and down as if the length would topple over at the banded site at any moment.
Nurse Sweetheart smiled and returned once she laid down her tools, gently stroking the stallion's dying member. "You're such a good sport, usually the others would be screaming and struggling against their restraints right now, but you've been a good obedient colt so far. Maybe I can give you a few quick strokes before I take your member off." She grinned and looked at the stallion's blueish member, admiring the texture and turgor as the blood slowly deoxygenate inside. She stroked her hoof up and down the shaft, knowing it was probably numb and painful for the captive right now. She looked up to Night Novel for a response, only to see the stallion biting his lips in discomfort and uttering quiet moans in the rhythm of her strokes.
Night Novel squinted his eyes as his captor stroked his member, feeling a sensation of pleasure amongst surges of pain radiating from his groin. Even though his member was growing numb, the pressure inside his upper shaft was still painful. The force of the castration band gripping at the base of his shaft amplified the nauseating pain growing from his groin and abdomen. But despite all these, he only lay there on his bed, occasionally peeping at his member that was growing more numb and blue every passing second.
Without any announcement, nurse Sweetheart prepared a syringe of anesthesia and returned to the stallion's groin. She swiftly pricked the syringe at the base of his banded shaft, emptying the liquid into the compartmentalized meat chamber. Night Novel watched the injection, feeling cold sweats running down his body from the ever-growing pain.
"Oh dear, don't you worry now," the nurse smiled as she comforted the stallion with her strokes, "Your shaft is coming along nicely. The color is turning as expected, and from your reaction, I think it's numb enough and ready. These are anesthetics to keep the pain at the minimum while I continue with my procedures." She continued to stroke the stallion with ounces of passion, reveling in the moans and whimpers from the stallion.
Night Novel continued to gaze at his stallionhood while the nurse stroked it, watching his former glory turned purple and limp. The meat in his shaft was slowly dying from the suffocation, and while it was still turgid from the blood trapped inside, it was losing its integrity and its hardness. The nurse has stopped stroking but running her hoof along the side of his shaft, letting it slowly droop halfway into a nice, flaccid but plump curve. But the hardest information to take in for Night Novel was the ever growing numbness. Perhaps it was the band or the injection or both, the nurse's touch grew more and more distant and faint as if his member was wrapped by layers and layers of leather. Very soon, even though he was looking at the nurse's hoof touching his shaft, he could feel nothing at all.
It was an alien sensation to him, watching his body parts being touched and handled but feeling nothing of it. In fact, he could feel nothing above the band at all. Usually, the cool air, slight breeze, his member bobbing would register at least some form of sensation, but he could feel absolutely nothing above the ring at the base of his shaft. He stared into his shaft, still attached to his body, knowing fully this was a part of him that he loved. But his senses were telling him there was nothing there, that the thing he was looking at was as alien and not part of him as a stone on the ground. The nurse's hoof traces the whole length from the tip to the base beyond the band, giving the stallion a reference. His sensation ends abruptly at the band as if his shaft ended right there as a stump. He tried to pulse his muscles, and nothing beyond his stump ever move. His shaft was as gone to his senses as if it has already been removed.
Nurse Sweetheart could see his wide eyes and constricted pupils, knowing that the stallion can feel no more. She grinned and deliberately squeezed between the band, letting the stallion feel the absence of his former glory and the stump he would be left. She bit her lips and whimpered slightly, thinking hard about her next move.
"You've been a good colt after all… I… I think I should treat you to something before we remove these gorgeous looking bits of yours," she said, standing up "well, at least I would really enjoy it, but you know, I hope you can get at least something out of this as well."
She said as she quickly undid her cap and blouse, haphazardly tossing it onto the ground. She bit her lips and gazed into the stallion's confused eyes as she climbed onto the bed, standing and leaning over him, gently rocking above. Unbeknownst to the stallion, however, the nurse was dripping on the stallion's numb member and gently grazing the folds along the drooping shaft. The mare silently moaned as she felt the cold, swollen meat brushing against her entrance. She reached down and rubbed the length on her folds with her hoof like a toy, looking at the stallion's confused reaction as she prodded the tip against her entrance. Night novel could feel nothing. He looked down and saw his member rubbing against the mare's nether, but apart from the tucking against his stump, he could feel nothing touching, as if the mare was just hovering above him. He could only watch and imagine what the mare's fold felt like on his dying shaft.
Lust began to build inside of both ponies, but while the mare was enjoying herself, the stallion had nothing to satiate it. He started to thrust his hips involuntarily. He could see the mare sitting her fold on his shaft, but it only felt like he was thrusting into the air. All he could feel was the heat and wetness dripping onto his stump, but his stump was too far and blocked by his member from touching the mare in front of her. Sweetheart gasped and moaned in front of him, which only added to the building lust of the stallion.
Teasing herself enough, the mare grabbed hold of the stallion's member and slowly pushed it inside her womb. The shaft was thick and bulgy and quickly stretched the mare as it entered. The shaft was turning colder every second, which contrasted the hot and needy tunnel of the mare. She gasped as she shoved the chilling toy inside her, feeling the dying meat exploring deeper into her cavity. Night Novel looked down and watched his member slowly slid into the mare, imagining what it would feel like if his still had his member functional. To his senses, his stump was all that was left of his member. To him, the mare was simply hovering her womb above his stumpy sex, as he silently waited for her to reach farther down enough. To make matters worse, Night Novel had never been with a mare before, and while he was not overworked by the idea of needing to try sex at least once — even though he would very much want to — it was very ironic for him to have his virgin sex right now as his stallionhood was banded and being taken away while he could feel none of it. He whimpered at the thought of never being able to feel what a mare's womb was like — and also his stallionhood soon being cut off — as the mare sighed and stopped just shy of the band with his stump just outside her flaps.
The mare, however, was filled with bliss. Although it was not allowed for the nurses to fornicate with the stallions while they were working, nurse Sweetheart could not help herself after a full day of work. The cold member was cooling her womb just like the girth and length was satiating her lust. She slowly started to bounce up and down on the stallion's shaft, feeling the length brushing against the walls of her inside. The dying shaft was filling her up, pushing deep into the mare's sensitive spot. Even so, her thrusts were just shy of the stallion's entire length, each plunge stopping just above the band. The stallion tried to thrust in rhythm to go in as far as possible, but he could only get his stump to graze the mare's clitoris maybe once or twice at best. He winced in frustration as he watched his member pleasuring the mare on top of him, while desperately trying to find something on the mare to look at to satisfy his needs.
Nurse Sweetheart panted and grinned, thrusting harder and faster, relishing the stallionhood she banded and was going to kill entering and exiting her leaking womb. She reached down and rubbed her clit with her hoof, accidentally touching the stallion's stump. Night Novel moaned and flexed from the much-needed stimulation, then looked back at her with longing eyes as the touch quickly subsided.
"H…heh, are you enjoying yourself? Unfortunately, you won't be able to feel much right now… but your stump should still work," the nurse rubbed her clit and grazed his stump once more, "That's all you'll be left, if you want to feel pleasure again, you'll have to learn fast… do you want me to teach you?"
Night Novel nodded, desperate for a release no matter the means.
"W…well, I can teach your stump to feel… but I can only do so once your member is removed… so, do you still want me to teach you, do you want me to remove your member?"
Night Novel nodded, more eagerly, blushing and feeling ashamed of his answer.
"W…well then, tell me you want to remove your member… tell me you want me to teach you how to feel pleasure with your stump."
Night Novel whimpered, wincing at his own obedience, "P…please, I want to remove my stallionhood. I want to feel pleasure with my stump…"
"G…good, good, " Sweetheart was ramming down on his shaft at this point, reveling in her own pleasure. She circled her clit steadily with her hoof, now also rubbing and pinching the stallion's stump, "T…tell me more, elaborate on that…"
"I… I need to have my member removed… it… it's better off my body than risking me being up to no good…" Night Novel moaned in disbelief from his submission, "I should feel pleasure with only my stump from now on, but please… please teach me how… It'll be of much better use for magic than giving me pleasure… I… can't wait to see it gone… p…please help me remove my member, nurse… please take it away already… a…anything… I really want release…"
Nurse Sweetheart moaned as she thrust against those words, rubbing furiously against her clit and the stallion's stump. The stallion hilted into the nurse's hoof, hoping to get as much stimulation as possible. Both moaned and heaved for a few more moments as Night Novel was getting close to the edge. Then abruptly, the nurse stopped and clenched up, juices squirting out from her stuffed womb and onto the stallion's crotch. She moaned as she rode her orgasm on the stallion's dead shaft, feeling the surge of pleasure flowing through her body. Eventually, she stepped down, her mare juice still dripping from her nether, leaving the stallion on edge and unsatisfied.
The nurse returned with a scalpel and held the bruised up shaft on her hoof. She carefully traced the incision with the back of the knife and looked up to the stallion, who was so close to release. Night Novel huffed and squirmed, looking down at the scalpel, knowing it was finally time. He was desperate for release, but he also knew the implication of it. He watched the scalpel circle his shaft that he could not feel, contemplating the fact that he is going to lose his stallionhood this very moment. Was this worth it? Was this just? What would happen if he could have been less of a coward and fought back for once, would things turned out different? His stump pulses on the edge of orgasm, and he would almost trade that for keeping his selfness intact.
"This is it, remove this and you'll be a better pony as a gelding. Remove this and you can cum naturally like a gelding should. So," the nurse grinned as she held her scalpel few lengths above the band, "Any second thoughts?"
"N…no, please, t…take it away… Please cut my member off so I can be a good pony… Anything… I want to cum like a gelding… I want to cum…"
And without pause, nurse Sweetheart presses the blade into the flesh, slicing off the layer of skin around the shaft. Her blade slit through first the skin then the inner fat, then the erectile tissues, then the nerves and urethra. The blood in the shaft has long coagulated from the seized circulation, leaving the procedure less messy than it could have been. With a few more cuts, the shaft toppled over into the nurse's hooves, leaving only a short stump behind.
Night Novel moaned as his shaft was completely severed, his hips thrusting involuntarily, his stump pulsing as he came from the sight of his member being completely removed. Nurse Sweetheart fondled his orbs while they were busy pumping seed for the newly made gelding, but the band was tight enough that the urethra was held closed. Night Novel rode his orgasm with only the nurse's squeezes on his orbs. His stump throbbed as it struggled to shoot its load. Only a dribble ever came out of the new opening, the rest of his unsightly seed was stuck inside the stump behind the band.
The nurse laid the freed stallionhood on the former owner's abdomen, while she inserted a catheter from the stump through the band into the remaining urethra. The stallion's load slowly filled the catheter, but none was able to dribble out. She sutured up the stump radially to leave a round nub, while the stallion heaved in his bed as his orgasm died down. The nurse examined the newly freed member, carefully suturing the stump at the base of the shaft to leave a nice round end as well. She fondled the severed shaft, rubbing it against the stallion's stump, pressing the two sutures together to revel in the sight of the shaft being removed. The stallion slowly perked up and looked down at his former piece of meat, seeing it come off again from the sutured stump. The nurse grinned and gave him the shaft, then went on tidying up her tools. The stallion held onto his member, examining it from a new perspective, mouth agape it in shock and disbelief. He brushed the stump remained on his groin and the shaft with his hooves, letting the fact that his stallionhood has really been cut off to sink in. Despite getting his release, he finally began to realize how much he wished for this to have come out differently. He wanted his member back, and he hated himself for not doing more to prevent all these from happening.
He examined his member closer, rotating it, squeezing it, bending it, and he flexed his stump as if he was flexing his now detached shaft. He laid his member on his chest and examined his stump, touching it, brushing it, squeezing it. The stump felt like the base of his shaft as always, but his hooves were able to brush over it without the rest of the shaft in the way. Just like when the sensation faded, everything beyond the stump's length has no sensation, but now it was for real, as there was nothing there to feel. He tried to rub his stump again, but with most of the shaft gone, the sensation was lacking and incomplete. The more he rubbed, the more his lust began to return, but just like before, he had no means of relieving it. He stopped and sighed, holding onto his member once more, silently saying his goodbyes before the nurse eventually took it away.
Nurse Sweetheart took Night Novel's former stallionhood and placed it on a cart. She excused herself with the tray and head out of the room, noting she will be back soon. Night Novel watched as his member being wheeled away. This would be the last time he saw it. It was a part of him, a part of his identity and dignity. And now it was removed and being taken away. No one knows where his member, and many more from other unfortunate stallions, would be taken to, and fewer would know what they were used for. Night Novel finally felt the sense of urgency and agony since his capture. Seeing part of him being cut off like meat and taken away to never be seen made him felt like a failure no less. Why did they have to cut off part of his body against his will? Why in all of a sudden, the once peaceful and harmonious Equestria has turned into this misandrist nightmare? He looked down at his still banded stump, the catheter oozing his undignifying semen. Only now did he finally felt a part of his body and soul was taken away. Not during his procedures, not during his sex, not during the many times he could have fought for escape, but now when everything is done, he felt he should have done something to protect himself. Night Novel the coward, he called himself, what a fitting title to a pony as pathetic and useless like him.
He felt a few tears seeping out of his eyes.
* * *
Of all this time, Rumble watched as the stranger sat through the procedure without an ounce of resistance. He watched as the stallion laid still while his member was banded and slowly died; he watched as the evil nurse took advantage of the stallion and hexed him into a begging pet. He watched as the stallion, now de-maled and degraded, sitting on his bed sobbing as he stared at his own stump for the longest time.
Of course, Rumble could not watch the entire thing at ease, the young colt could feel part of him broken as he watched the traumatic event unfold in front of his young, innocent eyes. He wept as his childhood was brought to an abrupt end this very day. His brother was gone, his parents sold him out, and he just witnessed an atrocious act of gore and obscenity played out right next to him. Why? He asked himself, why were all these happening? Was this all a joke? Was this a nightmare? Was this some sick fantasy that someone wrote without a care for its plot and its horrified characters? Rumble could not decide if it was fear or anger he was feeling at that moment. He was still petrified for the events to come, but he was furious at the person behind all these, the sick individual that was behind his misery. Perhaps he could not do much as a young colt, but he swore he will take revenge on the person behind all these. If no one, not his brother, not this stranger, would save him, he will.
Then suddenly, everything went black.
Author's Note
OH MY, what's gonna happen next? After two years of my incompetence, do I finally get to finish a story for once?
Sorry for the quality. I just want to give this thing a closure. Besides I'm not that good of a writer anyway.
