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BETTING THE RANCH
(Editor's Note: The male's primal fear of castration is well known in
the psychology literature. However, in our work with habitual
masturbators we frequently find a counter emotional affect: an actual
fascination with the prospect of castration by the hands of a woman,
that can be compared only to the attraction of a moth to the flame. At
the Institute we are investigating this phenomenon under controlled
condition by placing randomly selected males under realistic threat of
castration by our nurses and monitoring their sexual response. We find
that sexual arousal occurs in a surprisingly high percentage of the
habitual masturbators. We are exploring the possible therapeutic
applications of this effect. In the chapter below we can see the
phenomenon arising spontaneously during a harmless practical joke played
on Peter by a young friend. -- Dr. Margaret Wilson, Registered Genital
Therapist.)
One summer while a teenager, Peter visited relatives who owned a small
ranch in the hill country. The attraction of the place for him was not
the pleasant green hills and sparkling natural springs, but rather his
distant cousin Judy, a buxom country lass about his own age. At a brief
meeting several months earlier, the sexually precocious girl had given
the inexperienced youth his first lessons in making out, in the back
seat of a Chevrolet at a drive in movie. Obsessed by the memory of his
adolescent seed spilling in her hands as her fingers slowly teased his
virgin genitals, Peter eagerly anticipated the visit.
The day after his arrival, Judy offered to show him around the ranch,
which was devoted to the breeding of cattle. After pointing out the
stock pens and some of the prize breeding bulls, she led him into a
small, clean building filled with equipment unfamiliar to the city
reared teenager. "This here's our breedin' barn. This is where we
inseminate the cows to get them with calves. Also," with a sly smile,
"where we milk the bulls."
This last remark confused Peter. "Milk the bulls -- I don't
understand."
"I don't mean the drinkin' kind. Where do you think we get all the
sperm for the cows?" She giggled, "Remember what I did to you at the
drive in?"
Peter blushed in understanding. "Oh."
Judy walked over to a stall, beside which a large stainless steel
machine stood. "This here's the extractor. We lead the bull into this
stall and strap him down good so he can't kick up a fuss. Then we stick
this hose on his pizzle and let it suck away on him till he creams." She
held up a clear plastic tube attached to the machine.
Peter stared in fascination. "You mean it makes him... ejaculate...
just like..."
"Yep, it milks away at their pricks until they shoot a load, just like
jacking off. I get a kick out of watchin' them. They don't know what's
happening, but they sure know it feels good!"
"Gee, do you do that to all the bulls?"
"Well, all the breedin' bulls. 'Course the ones we don't breed get
castrated. We do that in this stall, too. Sometimes Paw lets me work
the castrator myself, and he says I'm real good at it." Peter shuddered
at the callous cruelty in her voice.
But his eyes remained fixed on the extractor. Judy played with the tube
in her fingers, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "The
extractor don't work just for bulls, you know."
"What... what do you mean."
"I came out here once and caught the hired man with his pants off and
his prick in the extractor tube. He liked it too, 'cause he gruntin'
just like a bull. I went and told Maw what he was doin', and she came
out and ran him off with the cattle prod, didn't even let him pull his
pants back on." Peter's lips were dry as he tried to imagine the scene.
She paused for a moment, and then asked, "What do you think it would
feel like, Peter, gettin' milked like that?"
"I... I have no idea."
She gave him a devilish grin. "Want to try it?"
He gaped open-mouthed at her suggestion. "You mean... me... in the...?"
"Sure. I'll work the extractor on you, and you can see how it feels. I
know you like gettin' jerked off."
"Well... yes, but..."
"Then what's the difference? C'mon, pull your pants off and let me give
you a milkin'."
If he were alone, Peter would have relished the chance to try the novel
stimulation. But he was reluctant to perform to such a humiliating and
bizarre sexual act in front of his adored cousin.
"Judy, I couldn't! Not with you..."
"Oh, don't be such a chicken! Will you do it if I take off something
first?" With that she quickly unbuttoned her work shirt and spread it
open. Peter gaped as her enormous bosom was bared before him. Rather
than removing the shirt, she tied the loose ends together beneath her
breasts, lifting and framing them for his view.
"There. I showed you my tits, so you pull down your pants. Go on now,
do it." At the sight of her abundant womanhood, Peter felt all
resistance ebb from him. Almost in a dream he obeyed, fearing loss of
the heavenly vision if he refused. Judy made him step out of his
trousers and underwear until he stood before her naked from the waist
down. Aroused by the experience, his penis jutted stiffly in front of
him.
She pointed at this manifestation and giggled. "See, you really do want
to, don't you? Come on, get down on all fours in the stall, like a
bull."
Peter did as she asked, even allowing her to fasten the restraints used
for the animals. As he knelt on hands and knees, she took two wide
leather belts which hung by rope from the ceiling and cinched them
tightly around his chest and stomach, forming a sling which supported
his weight. She then attached wrist and leg bindings which secured his
limbs to the four corners of the stall. He waited nervously, helplessly
immobilized, conscious of his naked organs dangling between his parted
thighs, completely at Judy's mercy.
She gave his penis a flick with one finger and said sarcastically, "You
don't exactly have the equipment of a bull, do you, little cousin? This
here tube might be a bit large for you. But that's OK, 'cause I've got
a small-size one we use for the cocker spaniels Maw breeds. It ought to
be small enough even for your little pizzle." She chuckled, obviously
amused by the humiliating comparison.
She attached one end of the smaller tube to the extractor and then
prepared to slip the other end over Peter's penis. But first she
paused, thoughtfully studying his organs. "You ever see an ol' heifer
about to be milked, cousin? That's just about what you look like, right
now. She's got a big ol' floppy udder full of milk," -- she hefted his
male sacks in her palm -- "and a long ol' teat hanging down between her
legs," -- she ran a finger lightly down the sensitive underside of his
shaft. "You ought to hear her moo, when her sacks are real full and
she's just begging somebody to squeeze it." She tickled the little tuck
of skin just below the head of his member, driving Peter nearly mad with
excitement. "You want me to show you how a country girl milks a cow,
Peter, how we squeeze those teats in our hands?"
He cried in agonized frustration, "Please, Judy! Squeeze me!"
"Well, I don't know, little cousin, how bad do you need milkin'? I don't
hear you mooing. Tell me how much you need it."
Peter bit his lip, trying to resist yielding to her humiliating game.
But the teasing finger continued to torment his frenulum, and finally he
surrendered all dignity, willing to do anything for the promised caress.
"...m...moo... Oh Judy, milk me! Moo, MOO, MOOOO!" Laughing, she grasped
his penis in her hand and began squeezing it with a practiced motion.
Peter moaned with pleasure and continued to imitate the sounds of a cow
for her amusement.
After a few moments, she tired of this game and returned to the main
objective. She slipped his penis into the extractor tube and circled an
elastic band around the neck of his scrotum, fastening the tube securely
in place. Then without any announcement she switched on the machine.
Peter felt and indescribable sensation. It seemed as if the tube became
a living thing, a pulsing insatiable mouth, a creature thirsty for his
very essence, sucking hungrily at his organ even as a calf might nurse
urgently at his mother's teat.
Judy left the machine to work on his genitals and, going around to the
other end of the stall, sat down cross-legged in front of him. Her
large bare bosom was almost level with his eyes.
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He longed for his
hands to be free to feel it's soft massiveness. "Feels good, doesn't
it, Peter?" she grinned.
"Mmm...yes, Judy. It does..."
She leaned forward, bringing her breast within inches of his face. "I
bet getting sucked like that makes you want to suck on somethin', too.
Don't it, little cousin?" Her breast was only an inch from Peter's
mouth, and the prominently erect nipple jutted more that half the space
to his lips.
"Please, Judy, may I?" he begged. In answer she only giggled, and
leaned forward. He drew the rosy bud into his mouth as eagerly as a
famished infant and began sucking. Judy smiled to observe that his
nursing lips matched perfectly the rhythm of the extractor on his organ.
How long he could have remained thus before nature ended his rapture in
an ecstatic release, none can say. For Peter was suddenly, without
warning, doubly deprived as Judy quickly pulled her breast from his
mouth and shut off the extractor. He groaned in disappointment.
"Hold your horses, Peter, we aren't through yet. I got something else
to show you." She walked over to a wall rack and took down an unfamiliar
implement. "Know what this is?" She held up an iron tool about two feet
in length, looking like a cross between a pair of fireplace tongs and a
bolt cutter. She parted the handles, and pliers-like clamps opened at
the end.
Peter shifted uncomfortably. "N...No Judy, I don't." Something about
the look of the implement and the wicked glint in her eyes told him he
didn't want to learn.
"This here's what we use on the other bulls, the ones we don't want for
breedin'. It's called a bloodless castrator. See, this clamp end goes
around their sacks, just above the balls. Then we give it a good
PINCH!" She slammed the handles together, and the clamps closed
mercilessly around an imaginary victim. Peter shuddered. "It's not so
bad as it looks. It don't cut their balls off, it just breaks something
inside, so in a couple of weeks their balls sort of wither away, and
their sacks just hang there loose and empty. And it can't hurt too
much, because sometimes they don't even know when I do it to them." She
giggled, "Especially if I'm milking them at the same time. I like to do
that, so they'll have one last time to remember what it was like."
Peter felt an ominous foreboding at the direction of Judy's talk.
"Uh... Judy... I really have enjoyed this afternoon, and thanks for
showing me the breeding barn, but I think it's getting near supper time
and we really ought to get back to the house now..."
"Naw, there ain't no hurry, we got plenty of time left to show you how
this gizmo works."
She drew up a short stool behind him and sat down. "We put the bulls in
the stall and tie their legs apart, just like you, Peter. That way we
can get at their sacks easy." She reached between his legs and began
gently scratching his scrotum with her fingernails. Peter sighed deeply
in spite of his growing anxiety. "We put the castrator right here,
right around the top of their sacks." She opened the handles and circled
the neck of Peter's scrotum with the pliers. The cold iron on his
tender manhood made him wince.
"Please, Judy... I don't like this game very much. Can we go back now?"
She ignored him. Here voice changed, taking on a strange, alarming note
of obsession. "You know that hired man I found out here? I didn't
finish tellin' you about him. You see, I didn't go tell Maw about him
right away. I watched him for a few minutes, first, while he was
playin' in the extractor. Then he turned around and saw me watchin'
him, and the way he looked at me sort of made me mad. He was just
starin' at my tits, and that reminded me of how he was always rubbin' up
against me, trying to get a feel of them. That polecat just kept
starin' at me and jerking off, and then he even said, 'Hey honey, take
'em out and let me see 'em.'
"Well that really made me mad, and I decided to teach him a lesson he
wouldn't forget. I told him I'd show him my tits if he'd let me milk
him just like a bull. Well that fool didn't even suspect, and no time
atall I had him strapped down, just like you. I showed him my tits like
I promised, and I set the extractor to milkin' him. But just when he
was starting to let his milk down, I slipped the castrator on him like
this and PINCHED!"
She squeezed the handles, very gently, but hard enough to clamp Peter's
helpless glands in a painful grip. "Ow! Oh please, Judy, don't! Let me
go..."
She eased the pressure and removed the tool altogether, and Peter
breathed a sigh of relief. But then she reached down and flicked on the
extractor. A moment later Peter felt the cruel metal again encircle
his fragile masculinity and realized his ordeal was not over.
"It's time to finish your milkin', little cousin, and I'm going to make
it real special for you." She continued with a demonic giggle, "I'm
gonna fix you, like we do the bulls, like I did that hired man."
"No, please Judy, don't do it..." he begged.
"C'mon, Peter, let me castrate you. I bet you'll like it. That hired
man knew what I was doin' to him, but he still had the biggest cum I
ever saw. I think knowing it was his last made it really special for
him. Let me do it to you."
Although Peter was in a panic, realizing the peril he was in from the
half-crazed girl, he tried to sound calm. "No, Judy, I don't want it
to be my last, maybe sometime later, but I'm not ready just yet." In
spite of his terror, the he could not help thrusting his hips in
response to work of the extractor.
Her voice became intimate, tender, almost loving. "C'mon, Peter, do it
for me. You really like me, don't you?"
"...Yes, Judy... but..."
"It'd be sort of like goin' steady, like giving me your class ring, only
better. This way, I'd know no matter what, you'd never get some other
girl friend and forget me."
"...but..." Peter was full of confused emotion. Notwithstanding the
horror of what she proposed, some darker, mysterious urge began to stir
within him. He squirmed about in his bonds, testing the unyielding grip
of the tool on his testicles. What would it feel like, the ecstatic
release, the moment of crushing force, the lifetime of chaste devotion
to his beautiful despoiler. A nameless urge welled within him, reaching
back through the millennia to a time when women ruled over men, and it
was a coveted privilege for a man to sacrifice his masculinity to the
high priestess of the Earth Mother. As the extractor drew him
inexorably toward spending, these feelings warred within Peter. He
moaned in his agony of confusion.
"C'mon little cousin, let me do it to you, let me castrate you. You
really want me to, don't you?"
As she spoke, Peter surrendered to the inevitability of climax. The
pulsing suction urged him over the brink, and he began emptying his
glands in gushing surges. The strong contractions of his penis were
clearly visible to Judy even through the plastic tube.
"Now, Peter! While you're letting go-- can I do it?"
In a delirium of sensation he moaned, "Please... Judy... Please..." but
he would never know for sure if he meant "Please don't"-- or "Please
do."
Regardless of the youth's wishes of the moment, Judy spared his manhood
and laid aside the castrator. He long remained slumped in the
restraining straps, speechless with the intensity of the experience,
while Judy gently cradled his sacks in her soft palm and patted his
naked backside comfortingly. At last when he was rested, she released
him and helped him to his feet.
"Did you really think I was goin' to fix you, Peter? You sure creamed
like you thought it was goin' to be your last. C'mon, now. Didn't that
make it more exciting?"
Peter had to admit that it did. And though in the following weeks Judy
would thrill him with countless masturbatory treats-- in the breeding
barn with the extractor, in the hay loft with her knowing fingers, even
once in the divine valley between her breasts-- none would quite equal
the intensity of that first experience.
As they walked back to the ranch house that evening, Peter could not
help asking her, "Judy, that time with the hired man. Was that just a
story, or did you really...?"
She looked at him and smiled mysteriously for a moment. Then she said,
"Hey! I think I hear Maw's dinner bell. Race you back!"
* end *
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