Fragments Fiction

Fragments.ws is devoted to adult-themed transformation stories.

Dave Fragments

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The Other Boy's Club

1 Jan 2018

Brant stared under Rory Marks' bare backside as he yanked off his running shorts and jockstrap. Between his legs hung a pair of testicles the size of billiard balls in a ruddy, fleshy sack. They swung back and forth as he watched. He quickly turned his head but Judd, Rory's best friend, caught him looking and smacked the back of his head. Rory looked over his shoulder, sneered. He saw the junior swim team as fodder for the ego mill, fresh meat for his football slaughterhouse of abuse.

"You got a lot of nerves eyeing his balls, farm boy," Judd said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just I've never seen balls that big on a man," Brant stammered. Judd yanked Brant's speedos down to his ankles, exposing his smaller endowment.

"Let the little boy look, Judd. It's his first time in a real man's locker room, and he's never seen a stud with balls as big as mine before." Rory turned around, grabbed his penis in one fist and fondled his balls with the other. "Take a good look, boy. You'll never have a cock and balls like this. You'll never have any girl screaming for that teeny weenie hiding in your bush. Go ahead touch my real cock if you dare."

Brant pulled back, his arms crossed over and tight against his boyish chest. His fists closed. He was a champion swimmer and not yet in high school - - hairless and a late bloomer, a slim merman in the water, but still a little boy in speedos.

Rory continued his bullying: "None of you farmers can hold onto women. It's the reason your Mom left your Dad. You're all one drop of sperm short of being real men. Always a little boy. Teeny in the weenie department. Can't keep them happy. Unable to satisfy. Only real men like me can satisfy women. You know what that means, don'tcha? Us real men will always take your women. You're gonna die a virgin still rubbing your little dick in Rosy Palm, or dirtying your socks."

Judd, already dressed in street clothes, poked Rory's shoulder.

"He'll still be teeny tomorrow. Let's go. Tiffany and Celina are all hot and waiting just for us," Judd turned Brant around to face him. "Remember that little boy. You'll never get girls as sexy and thrilling as Tiffany and Celina with a little baby dick like that. You're going to be lucky if those tiny balls even make sperm."

Rory pulled his jeans over his hips and arranged himself before zipping and buttoning. Then he pulled on a muscle shirt and flexed his arms. At eighteen, he oozed muscle and testosterone.

"Don't worry too much. One day, I'll bust your cherry and make you a man. Until then, dream of being hung like me; dream of having muscles like mine." Rory whacked the back of Brant's head as he left the locker room with Judd. Brant curled up in the corner, knees to chest, arms around his knees, and head down trying not to cry.

He was the better part of a year older than the other boys on the swim team and yet still without any signs of puberty. Most of his teammates had hairy patches on their bodies, stood taller, their voices became odd lower noises without warning. Brant remained Brant, sleek, smooth, fast, just like last week, still a boy.

The rest of the junior swim team piled into the locker room. Brant grabbed a towel and soap and ran to the showers. No one else needed to know of his encounter with Rory Marks. Not in the three months left in the school year and Rory Mark's graduation. He wouldn't let himself be abused and embarrassed like today; No sir, not tomorrow or ever again.

A month passed, and Brant placed first and won medals in four swim matches. In addition to swimming and schoolwork, Brant helped his Dad on their horse ranch. The weather was still cold and the ground firm, waiting for the spring rains.

"We have to geld the yearling before it gets muddy. It's bad to geld a horse in the muddy spring," Brant's Dad said the day after the last swim meet of the year.

"I never did that before. You call the vet?"

"Doc Jenson at the Veterinary Clinic has 'do-it-yourself' kits. He's had them for almost a year. I think that you're old enough and mature enough to learn to use them."

"I'm going to miss that colt. It's definite then; we're selling him."

"Yeah, Ms. Van Houston wants him for her daughter. She'd never let Julia ride a stallion. They're too wild and unpredictable. She thinks girls should only ride mares and geldings. I wish we could keep him, but we're full up. Beautiful as he is, we have no use for a stallion."

"Our Stables are crowded already."

"I spend most of the day mucking stalls rather than training," his Dad said, picking up an old leather satchel.

"I understand. I don't need a horse. Some of the owners almost never visit, and their horses get my attention." Brant and his Dad walked to the pasture where they kept the colt during the day.

"You're good with horses. That's why I want you to learn this and for you to complete the sale of the colt. The colt trusts you. Lets you handle him, and I need two weeks to take the new extension course in farm techniques. You're going to have to run the stables for me."

Brant's Dad explained the "do-it-yourself" kit. A preloaded syringe was held against the horse's testicle, and when the plunger was pressed, a very thin needle shot out and delivered a couple of drops of "Nuetersol" into the testicle. The thinness of the needle insured that the horse didn't experience enough pain to buck or bolt. The chemical dissolved the testicle over the next week or so. No more anesthetic, no more cutting, no more chances to get bot flies, no more extended walking periods with a groggy horse, simply a touch with two automated hypodermics and the testicles dried up and disappeared.

Brant watched the colt carefully over the next week without breaking its daily routine of exercise and training. Each day, the colt's testicles shrank until a week later, nothing was left. The colt quickly settled into a gentler, better-mannered behavior. His personality changed from young stallion to gentle gelding. Brant completed the sale for his Dad. As young as he was, he gratefully accepted a bottle of Bruichladdich X4 Quadrupled Whiskey for his Father. Neither Brant nor his Dad consumed spirits. The family kept a bar filled with a variety of previous gifts.

Final exam preparations and testing filled this next month at school. Brant excelled, but he remembered being embarrassed and shamed in the locker room. The humiliation burned in his mind. Senior exams weren't challenging and Rory and Judd's exams, being football champions, were perfunctory. They made a big deal of their upcoming graduation, showed up at school bleary-eyed and wobbly several days, took out their hangovers on everyone else.

Brant decided to give Rory and Judd a graduation gift. He made a trip to the farm supply store and bought a six-pack of the necessary materials. The bottle of Bruichladdich Whiskey appeared in Rory's locker one afternoon. Brant knew where Rory and Judd like to drink - - Murphy's Junkyard. That night, he snuck out of the house and hid in the junkyard until Rory and Judd finished the bottle of the potent Whiskey and passed out.

"One day you'll learn not to drink too much," Brant said as he used a medical scissors to cut Rory and Judd's jeans off their bodies. Explaining their return bare-ass naked would keep their minds off two pinpricks. He tucked Rory's penis out of the way and felt Rory's balls. They were as substantial as the colt's testicles and nearly had as large, but Rory was like the colt - - too wild, too frisky, and too rough. He needed to be gentled. Brant prepared two Neutersol injectors. He held Rory's testicles firmly as he injected each. Rory didn't even feel it. He did the same for Judd. They would only remember that they were left naked in the junkyard.

Brant dropped the evidence of what he did in the junkyard's incinerator.

When he got home, Brant showered and went to his room. He sat in the middle of his bed with only a towel over his lap, studying the two remaining Neutersol injectors. His Dad opened the door to his room and walked in. Brant quickly shoved the injectors under the sheets.

"I heard you sneak out. And I checked, you took that bottle of Whiskey with you. You want to tell me what's up?"

Brant tried to make up a story but with his father sitting on the bed wearing only his boxers, arms folded, and eyes firmly fixed on his, he finally explained the locker room incident, the taking of the whiskey, and his using the Neutersol on Rory and Judd. His Dad listened intently. When Brant finished, he hugged him.

"Rory and Judd deserved that. They'll be much nicer now. What concerns me more is why are you so fascinated with these?" he said, pointing at the injectors under the sheets.

"I never want to act like Rory Marks. I don't want all those changes. I don't want to be like the stallions, raging, out of control, beastly. I don't want all the dating and mating and stuff like that. I just want to know what it's like to be a gelding, calm and gentle. I want to keep the farm working."

"And what, you're worried I might think less of you?"

"Yeah," Brant said, afraid of his thoughts.

"Rory Marks is not the judge of what makes a man, and I've never been ashamed of any gelding we raised on this farm. They've all grown into fine animals worth their weight in gold," the Father said. He lifted his hips off the bed and slipped his boxers down, revealing his lack of testicles and shrunken penis. Brant touched his father's empty crotch, admiring its smoothness and listening while his father explained.

"Doc Jensen and I tested the injectors on each other about a month after he bought the first ones. He didn't want to use them on horses if it hurt more than anesthesia and cutting. Neither did I. That day, we both decided to test the injections. We went to an exam room and injected each other. It doesn't hurt. Your balls just shrink to nothing. I don't even notice mine are gone anymore."

"You won't be angry with me?" Brant took the injectors from under the sheet.

"I'm rather proud of you for being so mature about it."

Brant handed one of the injectors to his Dad and pressed the other to one of his testicles. The needle went in and out without pain. His Dad cupped his other testicle, touched the injector to it and completed his son's gelding. They slept in each other's arms that night, feeling closer than they had even been; A matched pair of gelded father and son horse-farmers who raised beautiful and gentle geldings.

The next day, Brant felt more self-confident and reassured as he went through his classes. Brant woke the third morning and felt his testicles pulling tight against his body. He could feel them, but they didn't want to hang in his "little boy" sack. By the end of the fifth day, they had disappeared. He couldn't find anything left of them. He waited until the weekend before he showed his smooth and testicle-free body to his father. They stood before a mirror, admiring their uniqueness, both proud of being geldings raising geldings.

As for Rory and Judd, they showed up to school the day after with the hangovers from hell. Both wore sunglasses and greenish pallors. They stayed silent most of the day, preferring not to interact with anyone, even each other. The next day, they fidgeted in their seats all day, knowing something wasn't the same but not able to get comfortable enough to figure out what. Two weeks later at graduation, they behaved without the typical outbursts, insults, or braggadocio. That made the senior class, the guests, and the school authorities happy.

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