Wednesday, 19 August 2009

I’d been mulling over the idea of writing a castration story. Male castration. There’s plenty of information on the Web. I don’t have any medical knowledge but the surgical information was there and wouldn’t be too difficult to write -- but…
…I decided to walk away from it -- or run away. It was when I got to the castration fantasies. I realised I just couldn’t deal with it. They are, to me, vicious, violent. It would be the equivalent of writing a really nasty female rape story and having the victim enjoying it. All of the fantasies, at least the ones I read, are about beautiful women castrating men.
Some of the fantasies are about guys having their balls “popped.” I don’t need to explain. Just use your imagination. You’ll cringe -- just like I am now.
A reoccurring fantasy, is about a promiscuous man, captured by a group of women. They take him to a female surgeon, who just happens to be a veterinarian. She, of course, is an expert at this type of surgery and has agreed to do it, on the condition that she can keep him as her pet, her eunuch. The women agree; they don’t want him anyway, they just want to watch. The man is strapped down and the beautiful veterinarian, who also happens to have massive tits, starts her work. The surgery is watched by all of the women; they laugh and giggle and point at him. The handsome man is the object of their ridicule. The victim is struggling against his bonds and screaming, “no, no.” But in his mind is longing for the surgeon to complete her work; he wants to belong to her.
I don’t know what I’m saying about this, except that I can’t deal with it. I’m glad I found out so early in my “writing career,” that I’d got limits. That there are places I just don’t want to go.
I’m not judging anyone who has this fantasy -- it is just a fantasy, isn’t it? A story people tell themselves. And I’m certainly not judging anyone, who wants to be castrated as a lifestyle choice, or who needs the procedure because of sickness.
But to write it up as erotica, or porn. Well, as I said earlier. I’m walking away.


  1. Believe me, sweetie, that is a limit for me as well. Besides, as the old joke goes "you can only go it once."

  2. It kind of links up to your very cool essay, Chris, on the differences between porn and erotica. It helps me define the differences in my own mind anyway. For me writing, and reading erotica is about fun. A sort of sensual playground, where adults act out their fantasies. Porn leaves a dusty taste in my mouth that I can't get rid of. But one girl or guy's porn is another's erotica. Still haven't solved it, have I. But at least now, I know where I don't want to go.