Geldings

I woke up almost as confused as I'd been when I fell under. The same loss of self filled me, and the same disjointed thoughts pulled me into pieces. I don't remember the details, but eventually I settled back down into my body. I felt better mentally, but that wasn't saying much.

I was still strapped to the table. I couldn't open my eyes for more than a brief moment at a time, because my vision was blurry and I was very dizzy.

The nurse had already removed the bit and cleaned my face and chin.

"What," I gasped.

"You're recovering," said the nurse. "The doctor has left the room. The surgery was a success with no complications."

Rape is not a complication. Got it.

"It will take about thirty minutes before you can leave, and I'll need to walk you home in disguise. We can't put you in a normal recovery room because it will draw too much attention," she said. "You're still strapped to the device because you might fall down otherwise. Your balance will return over the next half-hour."

There was a silence for several minutes.

"Why did you do this to me?" I asked in a raspy voice. I still couldn't open my eyes. I just assumed the nurse was still in the room since I hadn't heard her leave.

"It's... for your own good," she said. "The gelding procedure is barbaric and wrong. You deserve to be intact, Featherweight."

"No, gelding isn't! What you did to me is barbaric and wrong," I countered, speaking slowly as my dry throat ached. "If I were actually being gelded you never would have let me suffer like this."

The nurse waited a few seconds before responding. "If the Gelding Edict were not enforced, you wouldn't need to suffer at all," she said. "The Edict is what is wrong. Gelding is wrong. No boy deserves to be mutilated, period."

"The Edict saves ponies' lives. If it were followed properly it would have saved my mother from being raped," I countered. "You butchered me, and now I'm going to grow up to be a monster."

I knew it was risky, challenging her like this. What if they thought they couldn't contain me? They might decide to kill me.

Actually, I'm pretty sure part of me was hoping for that outcome.

Of course I wouldn't want to do that to Mom. But I was weak, and I was lashing out. At that moment, I honestly didn't care what happened to me. Death seemed like it would be a release from the empty pit I was currently in.

"Stallions are not monsters. This... experience, it was a necessary evil," she said. "I wasn't lying when I said you'd be grateful for what we did today. You will be, Featherweight. Trust me. Just give it time."

"You sound exactly like somepony justifying gelding," I said.

"That... that's not fair," she said, her voice very soft. "Don't say that, dear. Please don't say that. We're helping you. A stallion is how you should be."

"Necessary evil? I'll be grateful? The way I should be, not what I want? Yeah, right," I said. "Dear Celestia. You can't even see what you've become."

She petted my mane. I wanted to recoil, but I was too dizzy. It took a minute before she spoke again (she probably needed time to rationalize away what I'd just told her). "You poor dear. It's okay. You'll understand soon," she whispered.

"I want this thing out of my body. I want to be gelded. Now." It felt like my eyes were trying to water again, but I didn't have any tears left.

"Listen to me, Featherweight. You can't tell anypony about this. Do you understand? You can't tell anypony," she said. "You are not a gelding, and you never will be, and that is a hard fact. It may seem unfortunate, but that's just the way it is."

"Oh yeah? Why can't I tell anypony?"

Kill me. Do it.

"Because you're a criminal now, just like us. You let this happen," she accused. "You agreed to the procedure. You may have backed out at the last moment, but you had already made your choice. We found you because you became a stallion and tried to hide it. We gave you a very specific offer, and you seized it. You asked for this to happen, and we only did it to help you. You wanted this."

"No! I... I d-didn't," I said, choking on my own words.

"Yes, you did. Sweetheart, do you really want your mother to know the lengths you've gone to in order to avoid becoming a gelding? If you listen to us, you'll have a long and healthy life as a stallion, and nopony ever needs to know what you've done. If not, you'll have..."

The nurse paused for a moment. I heard her take in a deep, shaky-sounding breath.

"...you'll have disappointed everypony you've ever known. Especially your mother." Her voice faltered. I could tell it hurt her to say that. She said it anyway.

I was surprised to realize I felt bad for her. Maybe I should have felt justified that the act of hurting me was also hurting her, but I couldn't revel in her pain. At the time, it felt like there was nothing remaining in life for me to enjoy. I wasn't going to let somepony else's misery be my only ray of sunshine. I didn't want more pain in the world. Even if she had just raped me.

"Please don't do this to me," I begged in a quiet voice. "Please, just geld me, I won't tell anypony, ever, okay? I promise! Just geld me. I know you can do it, it's easy! Just get a knife and do it right now, and don't tell the doctor. I don't even care if I can feel it. I want to be normal. Please fix me. Please. You're my last chance..."

There was no response.

Minutes passed in silence. Eventually I was able to open my eyes. We said nothing more to each other, the nurse and I. Everything had already been said.

She led me out of the clinic by the back door, and transformed back into her disguise. She walked me most of the way home before we stopped.

"Walk home very slowly," she told me, and placed a pair of paper pharmacy bags across my saddle. "You're bandaged up and you look gelded, but you need to sleep off the ketamine after you take your pills. Remember what we talked about. Rest up and you'll feel better tomorrow."

I nodded, but said nothing.

"Featherweight," she said, turning my chin to force me to look into the fake eyes of her illusionary form. "Trust me, my little stallion. You're going to be very happy in the future. This will get better, and soon."

I nodded again, without a hint of a smile.

It turns out that telling a rape victim things are about to get better isn't very reassuring. Of course things are going to get better right after you get raped. It's obvious.

I mean, they couldn't possibly get worse.

I knocked on my door. To my surprise, Mom was home.

"Son? What are you doing home?" she asked, and then she saw the pharmacy bags. "Whose prescriptions are those?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn't want to lie to her, even if I had no choice in the matter.

Mom saw the vacant look in my eyes and her face paled. "Feather, sweetie, what's going on?"

I turned around and lifted tail, which is embarrassing to do to your mom in broad daylight. I briefly realized that if I had hallucinated the rape, I'd just tossed Mom an obscene gesture for no obvious reason. But it was the only way to communicate the lie.

"What!? You've been gelded?" said Mom, and she turned me around and lifted my head to look into her watering eyes. "This is impossible! The clinic would never do this without one of your parents present! How did this happen?"

I remembered what the doctor had told me to say, but I quickly thought up a better cover story that might not even be a lie. Technically, at least.

"I found a mare who was willing to pose as my mother," I said. "She took me. It wasn't a normal geld, though. There were complications so they had to sedate me."

My mother pulled me into a vice-like hug. "Oh, Celestia, why did you do this, baby?" she said, sniffling. "I wanted to be there for you Feather! Don't you know how much I love you?"

"It was just something I had to do," I said, my voice a slow monotone. "I had to... prove I was strong."

My mother broke the hug. There were tears on her cheeks but I could see a fire in her eyes. "No. This is unconscionable. This never should have happened," she said. "I can see how hurt you are inside, son. It's not just the sedation. Those ponies hurt you and I wasn't there to prevent it from happening."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. I closed my eyes and bowed my head low.

I'm more sorry than you know, I thought.

"I don't blame you for this, Featherweight. None of this is your fault," she said, lifting my head. I kept my eyes closed, though. I couldn't bear to look into her eyes, because even as numb as I felt I was afraid of crying again. "I understand you wanted to prove you were an adult, but you are twelve years old and the clinic should have scanned that mare to prove she was your mother. And that mare deserves to be punished! Gelding another mare's foal!"

"Mom, please. It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Who is she? I need you to tell me everything, Feather. What was her cutie mark? What was her pelt color?" she demanded.

"I... I can't do this right now," I said, opening my eyes a crack. Mom was so livid her scrunched-up muzzle was beginning to turn red. "I need to sleep for a while."

"Yes, of course," she said. Mom sighed and nodded, then kissed me on the forehead and led me into the house. "Do you know how to take your medication?"

"No. It has instructions, though," I said as she shut the front door behind her. "Why are you home today?"

"I needed to take a personal day off from work. I've been stressed about your gelding... and then this happens," she said, wincing. "But it's not your fault, Featherweight. I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I already know how strong and courageous you are. I just want you to be happy and healthy."

Courageous. Ha.

"I'm going to go to my room and sleep now," I said.

"Not yet," said Mom. She removed the bags and opened them, retrieving two bottles of pills. "Okay. This one's an antibiotic, and this other one's a painkiller. You need to avoid taking the painkillers except when absolutely necessary."

I suddenly became aware of the dull, throbbing ache in my hidden balls. It was remarkably painful.

How could I not have noticed?

"I think I need one now. It hurts real bad and I need to sleep," I said.

Mom hoofed me one of each pill and a glass of water. I downed them both.

"Thanks Mom," I said, with a weak smile. I walked to the bathroom and took a pee, then went into my room and lay down in the bed.

The pain was overwhelming my senses. I wondered when the painkillers would kick in. Even though I felt like I needed to suffer, I didn't want to suffer this much. Not only did my scrotum hurt, there was pressure inside me and it felt like somepony was tightly squeezing my balls in their hoof. This went on for at least ten minutes, which wasn't much fun.

I noticed I was crying after the first few tears had fallen. It felt nice to know I could still do that. I didn't feel sad, but I could sense that real emotions were starting to return to me. I wiped my eyes, and moments later the painkillers hit.

I felt a combination of three things: sweet relief, euphoria, and increased tiredness. All this and the pain, now tolerable. It felt like the pain was at leg's length. It was still there, but dull and easier to ignore. I fell asleep within minutes.

When I woke up, I tossed my covers off. They were covered in a sticky mess of cold, clear goo.

I yelped out loud, then quietly cursed myself. What had I just done?

Mom opened the door before I had a chance to pull the covers back on myself. I did pull the covers back on (of course) but she'd already seen it.

"It's okay, Feather," she said.

"Mom, I can explain!" I said, eyes wide. "It's from this morning..."

"Don't lie to your mother, Featherweight. It isn't from this morning," said Mom, though her face looked relieved rather than stern. "Don't worry about this. It's normal for young colts to have an emission after being gelded. It could even happen again."

"Oh," I said, and tossed the wet covers off of my body. I was embarrassed for her to see them, but I couldn't bear feeling the filth against my pelt. "Wait, when will it stop?"

"Within a week, usually," she said. "If it doesn't, we'll need to have your testosterone level checked, and possibly your prostate as well."

Suddenly, I realized I'd have to do the feather trick for the remainder of my foalhood. (Okay, maybe I didn't really have a foalhood left after the Tartarus I'd been through, but the next five years at least.) A shiver of phantom pain passed through my penis. It was stronger than the pain in my balls, but then the painkiller I'd taken still seemed to be working.

I was certain I wouldn't be able to endure five years of stabbing myself in the cock every single night while I tried and failed to sleep. Yet I had no choice. I felt panic taking over. I began to hyperventilate.

"Feather, it's fine!" said Mom. She kissed me on the forehead and gathered my sheets, stopping to wipe my body clean with an unspoiled section of the soiled linens. "I'll take care of these so you can sleep comfortably tonight."

I thought about the ponies who did this to me, and it made me angry. Then I realized they might be my salvation. There had to be a way to hide this from Mom, or they wouldn't have done it to me. Of course, that meant yet more lying to the mare who was my best friend and chief protector.

I began to bawl like a little baby. Mom dropped the sheets and pulled me into her legs.

"There, there," she said, kissing my brow. "I know this is hard, honey. It's normal to feel this way, but it will pass very soon."

"I'm j-just s-so sorry," I said, sobbing on her shoulder as I struggled to get the words out between heaving breaths.

"Shhh. You have nothing to be sorry for," she said.

You're so wrong, Mom.

It took me the rest of the evening to finally calm down. I was tired again, and my balls were beginning to hurt as the narcotic was wearing off. Mom had already brought my sheets and remade my bed. I spent most of my time sobbing in the bathroom.

Once the tears had dried up, we had dinner together. It was leftovers from what she'd made the night before when I went to the Hayburger. Mom must have felt really sorry for me, because she looked physically sick. This made me feel even more guilty inside.

During dinner, we talked. "I need you to tell me about that mare," said Mom.

I took in a deep breath and sighed. "I don't remember anything else about her," I lied. "The stuff they had to give me messed with my brain... I can't remember most of it now."

"Surely you remember something?" she asked me. "I don't want to make you relive what you went through, but please, think hard. This mare needs to answer for what she did to you. Whether you wanted her help isn't the point."

"I can't remember her color or mane. I think she was an earth pony?" I shook my head. "I mean, I know some mare helped me, but... I'm sorry. I don't even know what the doctor looked like."

"I didn't know sedatives could be that powerful," said Mom. "Sweetheart, if you're protecting her, please don't. She could go on to hurt somepony else. We need to know who she is."

"I, I just... I can't remember. I'm sorry." I stuffed my mouth with a heap of fried bluegrass and looked down at the table.

Mom sighed. Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Who could that be at this hour?" she said, then walked to the door and opened it.

It was Cheerilee, which didn't surprise me. The two mares started talking in quiet whispers. I perked my ears up, but it didn't help. Then their voices raised to a normal speaking tone.

"I'm glad to hear that he's okay," said Cheerilee. She craned her neck in the door and smiled at me from a distance. "Congratulations on a successful gelding, Featherweight!"

"Um, thanks," I said, and faked a smile, probably unconvincingly.

"I have to go to the clinic tomorrow and investigate this," said Mom. "I can't believe this was allowed to happen."

I listened in, intently.

"It's very unfortunate. There shouldn't be gaps in the system like this," said Cheerilee. "Gelding is trying enough for colts as it is."

"Can you imagine why she did it?" asked Mom.

"I don't know. Maybe she thought she was doing him a favor, but how anypony with horse sense in them could think this was a good idea..."

"It's been terrible. He's an emotional..." said Mom, then she turned and looked at me. She smiled in a way that suggested she was both proud and sad at the same time, then stepped outside and shut the door to speak with Cheerilee where I couldn't hear.

I'd nearly finished my meal by the time she stepped back inside.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," said Mom. The two mares said their goodbyes, and Mom returned to the table.

I drank the rest of my milk in one gulp. At least I have a healthy appetite, I thought. "Can I go to sleep early?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, dear. Did you take the dinner antibiotic?"

"Yeah. I think I need another painkiller, though. It's starting to hurt bad and I don't know if I'll be able to sleep," I said.

"Okay. It should be better in a day or two, though, so tomorrow you should try to sleep without it if you can."

I took the narcotic with a sip of water from the sink, and went to my room to lie down. I tried not to think about the monster I'd become, but I couldn't get my mind off of the cancerous organs now trapped inside my body.

About fifteen minutes later, the pain began to dull and euphoria once again filled my core. I quickly learned something: painkillers don't only stop physical pain. They work on emotional pain as well! The last narcotic I took didn't seem to have that effect, but it was probably because I was such a complete wreck. Now I felt fine, more or less. I was so grateful for the magic of chemistry.

But what would I do when I ran out of medication? I didn't want to think about it. My only hope for any normalcy in my future were the bastards who had done this to me. They said somepony would come by tomorrow to help me. If they couldn't help me manage this nightmare, I'd have no choice but to confess and tell Mom everything. But that was the last thing in the world I wanted to happen.

Fortunately, the painkillers helped mute two additional sources of pain: the pain of yanking a primary feather, and the pain of a feather quill jabbing me in the penis as I slept. For the first time in a week, I got a decent night's sleep, uninterrupted. Mostly, anyway. I managed to clock almost seven hours.

Waking up early wasn't a boon, though. On the downside, I had to wait two hours for Mom to wake up in order to ask her for another painkiller, and it was pretty agonizing. I just lay in my bed squirming with my legs and listening to my heart beat to distract me. On the upside, that constant ache in my balls kept me from focusing mentally on how screwed I was.