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Following instructions, I sliced into my ball sack and was able to popout my poor, desiccated testicles. It was a quick thing to cut them freeand hand them to my Master. The crowd cheered as the man standing next tome sutured and bandaged me back up.My fans had bid on my sissy balls. One fan had paid $270,000 dollars totake home the prize. He was also the first man I serviced that night,after I had been bandaged up and put back to work.He kept flicking my balls into my face as I sucked his cock. I didn'tcare. I hadn't used those ugly balls in years.I serviced the entire room that night. It took almost 15 hours, but Isucked every single cock to completion, as well as brought the fewercollection of pussies to orgasm as well.And then I collapsed in exhaustion. Master Nathan kissed me on theforehead and whispered that he wished that "every sissy was as good as[me]."And then it was all over. I was given a night to recuperate, but then Iwas boxed into a crate that was filled with expanding. She lifted her body and put her hands astride my head and her knees astride my chest, and she raised onto her arms and looked down between us and centered her middle over mine and, carefully, she lowered herself and pressed my cock against my stomach and settled on me with the top half of my cock nestled in her tuft and the lower half cradled in her humid slit. Then she settled onto her elbows and arranged her nipples on mine, and she hugged her body against me, and hugged her elbows into me, and hugged her knees into me, and held my face. Her lips hovered over mine briefly. Her eyes fluttered and closed and she whispered with a soft, almost religious hush, "Baby. My baby." And then she kissed my mouth. Fully, her lips pressing and gliding, her tongue slithering. Without hunger, without yearning. But with patient relish.Her lips left mine. Rising again, she looked down the length of us and I looked down and watched and she watched as she carefully raised her belly and allowed my cock.
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Her cries had been a song of pain to his ears, her screams a balm to his soul. She had cursed him, making him even more amorous, more ready to make her his. She had bled many times, on him, on the table. The blood had made her passage slick, hot. It had made the mating all the more satisfying for him. He had licked blood off of her body, careful not to give into the impulse to bite. He didn’t want to leave marks, anything that they could use to track him later. But the temptation had been there, oh, so heavily pounding in his brain, the need to tear flesh, to feel the hot weight of it against his tongue, to taste it’s sweetness. He resealed the bag, carefully expelling as much air as he could. He closed the file, and placed it, along with all his evidence bags back into the plastic box, firmly closing the lid. The box was set on top of a stack of shelves, carefully placed with five others. Each box was neatly labeled and dated. He could remember each and every one of them without.

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