My Choice of Method

I chose to be castrated by a burdizzo.  Why?  Mainly because I wanted to keep my scrotum intact.  I enjoy the thought of all that excess loose skin being tucked under my dick.  It'll always be there to remind me what I gave up.

I also wanted my castration to last a while, and the gradual death a burdizzo inflicts on the balls appealed to this side of me.  It will take months for my nuts to disappear entirely. 

The burdizzo is also as safe as a do-it-yourself castration can be.  There is little risk of uncontrolled bleeding, or infection.  If the person using the burdizzo knows how to use it, there is little risk except failure. 

Getting some Help

They say it's difficult to use a burdizzo properly without some help.   I think impossible would be a better word.  I don't think you'd be able to see good enough, or even get your arms into a good position to get a good solid bite. 

So, I posted a message on my favorite Yahoo group asking for help.  I actually got six or seven replies, most privately.  Three of them seemed to be serious offers and I started writing back and forth with these guys until I made a decision who to trust.

The guy I decided to go with was actually the least talkative one of the bunch but what he said counted.  His first questions were all medically oriented - blood pressure, heart, drug use, problems, etc - he actually impressed me by that.  Plus I didn't feel like he was trying to sell me anything.  He offered opinions on methods and things like that but left the if part of the question totally up to me, like he didn't really care if I was castrated or not.  And in trusting someone I'd never seen, that seemed to be worth something. 

I had some concerns about the fact that it would be easy to meet someone on the internet who would turn out to be ... lets just say extreme.   I could never find a way to totally erase that concern.  In the end I decided that I could not accomplish my goal without risk.  I asked myself if the goal was worth the risk.  My answer was YES.

And so we set it all up.

My Castration

I had a hundred dreams, fantasies for the scene I hoped would occur when I was castrated.  Most of these fantasies were, of course, sexually based fantasies.  For the month I spent planning this, it fueled a thousand jerk-off sessions causing endless amounts of my cum to splatter everywhere, anticipating my own castration.  I was really excited about having decided to do this.

My 'cutter' was about 250 miles from me and about 250 miles past there is a town I always wanted to go to and never had.   So I decided to take a weeks vacation and drive over there, stopping to get castrated on the way.  I decided to go rent a convertible (remember I live in Florida) since it's summer, I'd really be able to enjoy all the driving I was going to do.  I got it all set up and was really excited about the whole plan.

Anyway, that morning I woke up and went to pick up the car and load it and all.  I'd gotten out of bed in a weird mood, not really good, or bad, just really focused on getting everything done so that I could leave on time.  I wasn't really excited that morning - I just felt strange.  Anyway, I got the car and all and about 1 pm I pulled out and hit the road.

When I got out on the open road it and relaxed, it all really hit me.  This was no longer just a plan, or a dream.  In a few hours it would be my reality.  I wondered if it would all turn out like I'd hoped, or would I regret what I was doing?  I wasn't at all sure that I actually wanted to go through with it.  I kept wondering if I would actually stop in his town and check into the motel we'd agreed on or not.   Kept having something down inside me telling me to skip it and just drive on to my ultimate destination, skipping the castration. 

For most of the drive these were the thoughts that went through my mind.  In a way, I was surprised that I was second guessing myself, because I'd already been through all this and made a decision I was happy with.  But that didn't matter and every 50 miles or so I would change my mind about if I was going to stop or not.

But in the end I decided that I was just scared so I stopped, and checked into a motel he'd suggested, and called him to let him know I was there.  We agreed he would be by around 9 pm -- about 3 hours away. 

I was still really apprehensive.  And hungry.   So I went up to the motel's restaurant and had a steak dinner which was actually surprisingly good for a fair price.  But no matter how I tried, I couldn't relax. 

I went back to my room and got ready.  I keep my entire body shaved,  and I'm really fanatical about stubble.  Testosterone make my hair grow fairly quick, so I showered and shaved.   Took a couple hits on a joint and that plus the shower really helped me relax some.  Not to say that I was comfortable, but I was better than I had been.  

My dick and balls were all shriveled up and not interested in anything at all.  Even shaving couldn't get any interest out of them.  It was almost like then knew what I was getting ready to do to them.  Anyway I got out of the shower with about 30 minutes to spare, put on some clothes, and started to wait.

He'd told me on the phone that an emergency at work was requiring him to go out of town on very little notice, and he'd actually tried to call me and cancel but I'd already left.  So he was going to be rushed, but would be there.   I was still pretty nervous so rushed was OK with me, really I just wanted to get it over with and BE castrated instead of dreaming about it.

Anyway he got there, and at first we sat down to talk.  His first questions were all about why I wanted to be castrated.  He stared at me as I answered, stared to intensely that I could tell that he was searching for the truth behind my words.  So I simply told the truth:  sexual control.  We talked a while longer and we explained that it was quite permanent; that he always tried to only castrate people who really, really wanted it.  He made me actually tell him "I want you to castrate me, tonight", and then "I want you to make me into an eunuch".  And then he had me undress, and he started to inspect my balls.

I dropped my pants and there's my balls all shriveled up and my dick trying to hide in my stomach.  How embarrassing!    But actually even though I wanted this to happen, I was scared shitless about it.  I was surprised, I don't usually scare easily.  He started kneading my sac, feeling my cords and all.  I'd told him that I was into CBT, that my balls had taken some abuse and he'd already told me that if the scarring was bad, a burdizzo wouldn't work.  He felt of them and told me the burdizzo would work fine. 

Then he was squeezing my dick and before I knew it he had it in his mouth.  Now I knew this was going to happen and had been looking forward to blowing a load before loosing my balls.  But now that I was there, my dick just wasn't going to cooperate.  In fact I think it shrunk more.  Nothing to do with anything except for that I was still scared shitless.

He gave me a tranquilizer and told me to find the ice bucket, and go get ice.  As I did that, we got his burdizzo out and was disinfecting the jaws as I went for ice.  As I did, I had a few last minute thoughts, knowing that this was my last point of no return.  And I knew that I didn't want to back out.  So, I got the ice and went back to the room.

When I got there, he had everything all set up on the table.  On the bed, he'd put the two pillows in the middle of the bed, about 18" apart.  He had a towel on the bed along side some handcuffs.  I sat the ice down and he handed me a bottle with a dozen or so pills in it - he said they were pain pills, that I should take one now, and then up to four per day as needed.  So I took a pill.  As I came from the sink, he was behind me and he held me and told me that once he put the handcuffs on me, there was no turning back, no matter what.  I told him I didn't want to turn back as I heard the handcuffs click.

He guided me toward the bed and had me lay down with my cuffed hands between the two pillows.  He was very careful to be sure that my hands were comfortable.  Then he opened my legs and started to wipe my scrotum down with disinfectant.  I lay back as the tranquilizer started to kick in, and enjoyed the stinging feeling in my scrotum as the disinfectant spread all over me.  My dick was still trying to hide, but I was getting a pretty good buzz going here and was just laying back, watching, enjoying what was happening to me.

He traded the disinfectant for a needle and climbed back between my legs.  First he injected my cords on both sides, then started going down my balls, injecting a tiny amount of painkiller into a dozen different places.  I lay there, really starting to get off on the tranquilizer, and perhaps the pain killer too, and even though I really hate needles, I really did enjoy him stabbing my balls a dozen different times, spreading that pain killer all over my sac.   Then he started to squeeze my nuts, and as I told him what I could feel, he'd inject more painkiller into a few other places.   Finally I couldn't feel anything at all down there except my shrunken little dick.

The whole combination had me really high.  I was floating on a cloud somewhere as he climbed back between my legs with the burdizzo in his hands.  He pushed my legs open and used his legs to hold me down.  He took one hand, and started to search for the cords to my left nut.  Then he pushed them over toward the side of the scrotum and pushed them in between the burdizzo jaws.  I couldn't feel a thing.

In a flash, he'd closed the jaws of the burdizzo and I could see my balls hanging there as he twisted the burdizzo a little then tugged on it.   It was like I could see this happening to someone else, not myself, because I could not feel any of what I was seeing.  It was like I was laying in bed, watching TV really close up.

After what seemed like only a few seconds, he released the burdizzo, and pulled my sac out.   All I could see as he dropped it was some blood.   He went to my right nut almost instantly.  It was harder to find the cords on the right side for some reason, I don't remember why now.  By the time we got to my right nut I was really really high.  I remember trying to help him hold my nuts but I couldn't move my hands because I was handcuffed.

Finally he got my right cords into the burdizzo and as I heard he tell me that in a few more moments I would be an eunuch, I heard the burdizzo close at the same time.  I wasn't watching anymore, I was laying there in a state of total ecstasy, knowing what was happening and being so high on the drugs and the scene that I didn't really care what was happening anymore.  I did see his shoulders move as he twisted then I felt the tug in my groin and and next thing I knew he was walking away with the burdizzo in his hands.

He came back with a plastic bag full of ice, wrapped in a towel.  He put this over my scrotum and reached under me to undo the handcuffs.  He wouldn't let me get up.  He asked me if there was something there I wanted to drink, and he got me my book, and set me up there in the bed.  He told me he was sorry that he had to rush but I should stay there in bed for at least a half hour.  He said I'd be able to drive tomorrow, and that I should let him know how things go in three or four weeks.  He'd brought me an extra bag for more ice later, and said the swelling would be bad.  He gave me some antibiotic ointment and some bandages.  Then he that most of the guys he'd done had been too nervous to get it up, and he left.

I lay there for a while in a dream like state, very content, and drifted off to sleep for a while.  I don't really know how long.  When I got up I inspected my swollen nuts, which I could now feel.  The burdizzo cuts were scabbed some, and swollen and red, quite ugly.  I got a washcloth and cleaned them up, then put the antibiotic on them, bandaged them up, and went back to bed.

The next morning I woke up and checked out, and continued my trip.  But my heart really wasn't in it.  I stayed in the same quiet, withdrawn mood I'd been in yesterday.  Couldn't say I was really scared anymore.  I went on like planned but there was no thrill in it.  The whole thrill had been the castration and that was over.   Now I just wanted to go home, so the next morning I did.

Drove 500 miles to get home and was pretty much a zombie that day too.   My nuts ached a lot but if it hurt I was ignoring it.  Thought a lot about how I had what I wanted now, but really didn't think much at all.  I was just on autopilot, going home.

First day at home wasn't really any different.   I spent the first three days just cleaning and watching my nuts, reading and watching TV and being brain dead and staying a hermit.

But I sure was happy that I'd gone through with it even if it wasn't the scene I'd dreamed of.

August 28, 2001