Geldings

The feather pain was pretty bad Thursday night so I didn't get much sleep. I was tired in the morning and not looking forward to another school day with my balls still intact, even if it was going to be my very last.

"Featherweight, you're going to be late for school," Mom called. She finally entered my room and gently lifted the covers to help me get up.

Mom's eyes widened and her mouth gaped. I had no idea why, and I was too groggy to put the pieces together.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Feather, baby, I don't want to pry into your personal space, but what is this?" she asked, pulling off the tape and removing the quill from my sheath. "You could hurt yourself! Is this some kind of... masturbation?" Mom grimaced, clearly afraid of trampling on my feelings.

"Huh? Oh. Oh! Eww, no," I said, sticking out my tongue distastefully. "I use that to keep from having emissions at night. I've done it ever since the first one I had a week ago. It pokes me and wakes me up."

My mother's eyes began to mist up. "Son, do you think I would judge you? I already know you've had an emission, for Celestia's sake."

I turned my head away. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't want you to ever have to deal with it."

"It wouldn't bother me at all. Doesn't it hurt?" she asked, gently petting my mane.

I nodded. "Yeah, a lot when it pokes. It's hard to sleep too," I said, recoiling from her hoof out of shame and clambering out of bed onto shaky hooves. "It doesn't matter now. I wanna go to the clinic tomorrow, so I only need to use the feather for one more night."

"I'm relieved to hear that you're ready to grow up, but Feather you are not to do this to yourself again," Mom admonished me. "I can't believe you would hurt yourself like this."

I paused and stretched my wings, then looked her dead in the eye. "Then you don't know what it's like to be a colt," I said, flatly. Her face fell, and I felt sour in the pit of my stomach. "Wait, I don't mean it like that..."

"No, sweetie. You're right. I don't know what it's like to be a colt, and in a way, I'm fortunate for that," she said, frowning. "I don't mean there's anything wrong with who you are, mind you. Being a colt is a very wonderful thing, but what you're going through right now is frightening and embarrassing, and it shouldn't be like this. It simply shouldn't. Every mother wants to protect her foals from pain and suffering, but this just isn't something I have the power to protect you from. How I wish I did."

I pursed my lips for a moment. "No... it's a good thing. I need to learn to protect myself without you always being there, y'know? Life isn't supposed to be painless, and I gotta be an adult about stuff someday. It might as well be now." I smiled weakly, and Mom pulled me up into a tight hug.

"That's an incredibly brave and mature thing to say, Feather," she said, sniffling. "But even when you're fully grown, you'll still be my baby. You got that?"

I blushed. "Ah, Mom," I said.

Maybe she was right about the mature part, but certainly not the brave part. I've always been a coward.

Mom threw the feather away, but she forgot to make me promise not to do it again. I hadn't agreed to squat, and that was good enough for me. I planned to pluck another primary (ouch) and use the trick again that night. The pain was bad, but it was worth it to save Mom from my vileness.

After a quick breakfast I headed off to school. As I trotted to the schoolhouse, a familiar-looking mare approached me. I quickly realized it was the mare who had slipped me the note!

I probably should have run away or screamed or something, but I just froze in place. I hadn't thought this through, and I didn't know what to do. While I stood there like a deer caught in a flashlight, she walked right up to me.

"Follow me," she said. It was clear by her tone of voice that this wasn't a request.

"Wait," I said. "What's this about?"

"You know what it's about. Are you coming or not?" she asked.

"I... I don't know."

"You'll be grateful, I promise. I'm only asking you to follow." She began to tap her rear right hooftip on the cobblestone path.

"I'll get in trouble for skipping school," I pointed out, hoping that might sway her.

She smiled. "We have an excuse for you. You'll be fine," she cooed gently. Then she firmly stomped her hoof twice and began to walk away.

Like a mesmerized idiot, I followed her. I'm still not sure why.

At some point along the walk, when nopony was watching us, her body shimmered and shifted to a different form. She was a unicorn using an illusion spell! In her real form (assuming this was it) she was a yellow unicorn with nurse scrubs on. She had a striped, strawberry-colored, teased-up mane.

The transformation unnerved me, but I kept following her anyway. I actually felt more compelled to follow her now, worried she might use magic to do something nasty to me if I turned and ran. She led me into a building I didn't recognize from behind, using the back entrance.

Inside were white hallways. This was clearly a clinic of some sort. There were doctors and nurses walking around. My guide walked me to a room, opened the door, and ushered me in.

Just inside the door, I froze yet again. An elderly earth pony doctor, prepped for surgery, stood in front of a gelding device just like the one Rumble had described. It might even be the same doctor, I realized. Beside him sat a sterile-blocked table with knives, syringes, and clamps. The nurse pushed me in further and shut the door. Before I could react, she clamped her hoof firmly over my mouth.

"We're not going to geld you," she said. "Don't make any noise." Then she removed her hoof.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I nodded softly. "No... no, this is okay. It's a trap and I fell for it. You can geld me." Without hesitation, I walked right up to the terrifying device and climbed into it. My legs were shaking, but that didn't stop me. I knew this was the right thing to do and that was all that mattered. I put my feet into the stirrups and set my forelegs on the little leg tables.

"Featherweight, we're serious," said the nurse. "It's going to be okay."

"Strap me in," I said, ignoring her. "Why... why isn't my mother here? Is she ashamed of me?" I asked. I couldn't believe Mom wouldn't be by my side. She loved me and would be there for me in my time of need. Surely she knew about this elaborate farce?

"We are not gelding you," the doctor repeated from behind me, his voice muffled by the surgical mask. I felt my hind legs being strapped into the cold metal stirrups, and my sac shriveled up toward my body in response.

"I don't understand," I said. "Aren't you the guy who gelded Rumble?"

"I'm very sorry about your friend," said the doctor. "Of course I would have saved him if I were able to, but his mother was present. There was to way no pseudo-geld him and get away with it."

"Pseudo-geld?" I asked. "What's that?"

"That's the procedure I'm preparing for right now," answered the doctor. "It's a fake gelding, essentially."

"No. You're kidding," I said, turning my head to the side in a failed attempt to see behind me. "This is some kind of sick joke, right?"

"No joke," said the nurse as she finished strapping my forelegs to the small side cushions. She smiled at me. "When we're done, you'll look just like a gelding, but you'll still have your testicles intact."

My eyes widened and I struggled helplessly against my bonds. "No, don't!" I yelped, feeling the cool air kiss the sweat forming on my brow. "Please! I want to be a gelding! I don't want you to do this to me!"

"Nurse, distraction please," ordered the doctor.

The nurse kissed me gently on my lips. I reflexively pulled my head away, though with my mobility restricted I only managed to get an inch from her muzzle.

"Relax," said the nurse, kissing me again as she held my head in place.

"No!" I shouted into her lips, and she pulled away. "I'm only a colt! Why would you do something like that?"

"Nurse!" said the doctor.

The nurse sighed dejectedly, but quickly pulled out a metal bit. She shoved it into my mouth and tied it around my neck. "I'm sorry this has to be uncomfortable, but we're trying to save you, Featherweight. We can't have you drawing attention or you'll ruin everything."

I immediately began to drool onto my chin. (Of course, pegasus ponies don't have nearly the drool control of earth ponies.) I tried to speak, but it hurt my throat and mouth. Pretty much all I could do to make sound was whine through my nostrils.

My crying came on so quickly it shocked me. With my ears flat back against my mane, I twisted my head left and right rapidly in an obvious "NO" motion. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my spit dripped onto the floor.

"It's too late for that now," said the nurse. "But don't worry! This isn't going to hurt or harm you in any way." Her voice wavered as she said the words. Clearly she had empathy for my situation, but she was letting it happen to me anyway.

She began to pet my mane gently. I recoiled as much as I could from her hoof, which wasn't much. I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want any of this to happen to my body. I wanted it to stop with every fiber of my being, and I would have done almost anything to end it, but I didn't have any choice in the matter.

Then, in a moment of pure insight, it all became clear.

This is what rape feels like. I'm being raped.

Against all logic, realizing this calmed me. Mom had endured rape for me, hadn't she? Now it was my turn to experience it. In a way, it was almost like I was taking her place. In some twisted part of my mind, this made poetic sense.

At the time, I even felt like I deserved to be raped. Seven days ago I'd sealed my fate by being the miserable coward I was. I deserved to be raped more than Mom ever did. What did she do wrong? She showed compassion for a poor drifter. What did I do? I was selfish, and showed no compassion for what my actions might do to my friends and family, let alone all of society.

Of course I didn't truly deserve it—I know that now. Nopony deserves what I went through. I was just a scared, helpless foal. A small part of me probably understood that, but I was doing what ponies do naturally when they get raped: rationalizing the situation so I could survive the ordeal. If I hadn't blamed myself, I might have lost my bucking mind.

"I'm cleansing the area," he said, and I felt a gentle scrub.

I cried and continued to thrash my head around as I felt something cool touch my scrotum. I tensed against his touch, wishing I could be anywhere other than here. I wanted to be gelded, and I was about to become some kind of freak instead! If only his filthy glove-covered hoof were anywhere else...

"We need to sedate him," said the nurse. "He's breaking, doctor—we can't continue like this."

Oh, thank Celestia.

But just then, something absolutely horrible crossed my mind.

I imagined my mother standing in front of me, watching me go through this and comforting me, the way gelding was intended to be. I pictured her hurting inside because she could feel my pain... but empathy wasn't the only reason she was suffering.

Mom was embarrassed of me. She was ashamed that her son was so weak.

Right then, I resolved it didn't matter whether what they were doing to me was criminal and wrong. I wasn't going to go down like this, crying like a baby and fighting them tooth and hoof.

So my body went completely limp. I had to let these strangers rape me. I owed that to Mom. No matter how frightening this was, no matter how much it screwed me up inside, I would endure it. I felt a numbness in my core, and my emotions dissociated completely from the rest of my mind. I became an empty piece of wood. In my confused young mind, it was the only way I could survive the experience and still honor my mother.

I guess it goes without saying that I'm still not over this. I don't know if I ever will be. But I need to be strong, like Mom. She's my inspiration. I want to be more like her. She survived something so hideous I can't even imagine it, not even after this experience. I'd like to think I've inherited her unique force of will. If only I had her courage.

"Prepare a ketamine IM injection," said the doctor. "Featherweight, please relax. We won't continue until you are comfortable."

I shook my head gently.

"You... don't want to be sedated?" asked the nurse.

I shook my head, now lying motionless.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Er... I still think we should sedate him..." It was strange to hear a doctor pondering an important decision out loud rather than confidently barking an order. It was obvious he didn't know what he was doing. He gelded boys for a living, probably without psychologically scarring a single one, yet he had no idea how to handle what he'd already done to my brain.

The gelding procedure was well-established. If a young colt showed any sign of resistance before a geld, they'd give him a special candy to make him drowsy, then sedate him completely so there would be no trauma. Gelding was never anything like this. Why was my case different? Maybe he was afraid I'd tell on them. Obviously what they were doing to me was extremely illegal.

Might they kill me? Am I a dangerous liability? The thought turned over and over in my mind. Despite the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I willed them to ice and stayed calm. This was just something I had to do.

"Are you sure you don't want to be sedated, Featherweight?" asked the nurse, as I looked into her frightened eyes with my red and bleary ones. "It won't hurt you, and it will make the process much more comfortable. I really think we should do it."

"Nod if you want to be sedated," clarified the doctor. "Shake your head if you do not."

I shook my head. It must have looked effortless, but that simple motion of my neck was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

This is my fault. Just rape me. I deserve to feel all of it.

"This is ridiculous. I'm doing it anyway," said the nurse. "We can't take chances with a young colt's mental health."

"No, don't," ordered the doctor. "It looks like he'll be fine. Besides, it will be much easier to get him out of the clinic unnoticed if he isn't recovering from sedation."

Ah, that's why.

The nurse looked like she was about to cry, so I stopped making eye contact with her. I closed my eyes and lay there, strapped down, as a strange old gelding squeezed and prodded my genitals against my consent. Or maybe he was a secret stallion, like he was trying to make me? It didn't matter.

"I'm going to give you some local anesthetic now, Featherweight. You'll feel a small poke."

I felt a small poke in my left testicle. It hurt very briefly. I found myself wishing he would do the right thing and just remove it from my body. I wanted to be normal like my friends. I hoped with all my might that this was just a crazy hallucination and I wasn't becoming a monster, but I couldn't trick myself into believing that. Mom would have been here for me if I were being gelded. That meant I wasn't being gelded. I was being mutilated.

The numbness spread quickly. "Another poke," he said, and this time it was my right testicle.

"Kleeeess kellk lneee," I slurred through the bit, my voice horse. Unfortunately, it was hard to hear what I was trying to say. I was begging to be gelded. I opened my eyes and saw the nurse wipe away a tear as she stared at me. She understood.

"I'm so sorry. We can't geld you now," she whispered to me, petting my wet cheeks. "This is how it has to be. But dear, I promise you, you'll be glad we did this when you're older. I promise."

Again I closed my eyes. Useless.

And so, the rape continued.

"You'll feel a poke between your testicles and your anal ridge," said the doctor, and so I did. The area quickly went numb. This time it took longer for the injection to complete (I could tell from the amount of pressure I felt). "That's all the poking, Featherweight. You can relax now. You won't feel anything else, except a little bit of pressure inside your gut near the end of the procedure. I'm still going to tell you what I'm doing as I do it, alright?"

My rear legs spasmed uncontrollably for a brief moment, then fell quiet again. I didn't care what he was doing to me. The medical details were irrelevant. He was turning me into a criminal just like my rapist father. Nothing else mattered.

"Now we need to wait a few minutes while you get completely numb, so try to relax," he said.

The nurse petted my face and tried to wipe my eyes. I shut them tighter in response. Eventually she sighed and stepped away from me, and I relaxed again.

Maybe it was just a few minutes, but it felt like an hour. The wait was awful. It was getting hard for me to breathe. I was just laying there, waiting for my violation to begin all over again. I wouldn't be able to feel his touch anymore, but the doctor was going to tell me each and every terrible thing he did to me as he did them. I was powerless to stop him. Even with my eyes shut, I continued to cry. I didn't feel sad (or anything other than numb), but I cried anyway. At least I drooled less now. Apparently, I was running out of spit faster than I was running out of tears.

Finally, the doctor spoke again. "I'm going to make a large incision in your scrotum so I can manipulate your testicles," he said. My heart pounded rapidly in my chest, but I barely noticed. I was completely numb, both physically and mentally. There was nothing left for me to feel.

My imagination was very vivid, however, and it still tormented me. Visions of him slicing me up and shoving my diseased testicles up deep inside me were inescapable.

"Now I'm taking a special device and using it to press your gonads partially up into your body. This is a small piece of plastic that will stay inside of you," he explained. "It will make the remnant of your sac appear smooth and hide the testicles inside from view."

A rape memento. A permanent part of my body.

"Kleeeess kellk lneee," I repeated raspily, keeping my eyes shut. Please geld me! The nurse said nothing, but I could hear a soft sobbing sound coming from just in front of me. Now she was crying, too, and she wasn't emotionally numb like I was.

"This stage will take some time to perform. The spermatic cords are very long, and they need to be secured behind the device, which is difficult," he told me.

A sniffle, then a stomp of a hoof sounded in front of me. "Horsefeathers! Doctor, I don't care what he wants, I am giving him the ketamine," said the nurse, her voice cracking.

The surgeon sighed. "We're getting close to finishing, but... yes, you're probably right. Go ahead," he said.

I took in a deep, ragged breath and exhaled. I didn't deserve relief, or so I thought, but I was beyond grateful it was coming. (If only they could have removed my memories along with my consciousness.)

"Listen carefully to me, Featherweight," said the nurse. I opened my eyes, but now she was over by my side where I couldn't see her easily. "You're going to need assistance after your sedation, which I will provide. As for living with your pseudo-geld, we'll have somepony contact you tomorrow. Make sure you remember that, okay?"

I nodded my head in the affirmative. I had no interest in the conversation, I just hoped it would speed my unconsciousness.

"Open your mouth and lift your tongue," she said, and I obeyed. She placed something under my tongue that tasted like strawberries. "Close your mouth. That pill will help with the nausea the ketamine may cause."

"Your story is that you came to the clinic yourself, begged to be gelded, and found a doctor willing to do it without notifying your family, but you don't remember who the doctor was because of the ketamine," said my surgeon/rapist. "There will be no chart of your admission. There may be an investigation, but ultimately nopony will care because a healthy gelding is always a good outcome."

"It'll be okay, dear," whispered the nurse, "although this will feel strange for a few moments." I felt a painful stick right in the cutie mark, but I didn't wince. Pain was too much like an emotion, and those didn't exist anymore.

What happened next is impossible to describe, but I can try. Numbness quickly filled me: first my lips and hooves, then the rest of my body. I started thinking about rape, and the thoughts turned in on themselves: thinking about thinking about rape, about thinking about rape, about rape, rape, ...repeating patterns filled my vision, and nothing seemed to matter or mind because it wasn't really matter or mind or me anymore. Everything happened for a reason, and I was a random pattern inside a fleshy body inside a physical mass of atoms, I wasn't even real because nothing was real, and I didn't hurt because I wasn't Featherweight. I was watching myself not-suffer, and I was happy, and lost, and happy and empty/full and the rape, the rape, the rape, rape, Rape, Rape... the sWeEt RaPe... Rrrrrrr . . .

Amid the indescribable chaos, I blacked out.