She brought me into the basement and tied me up, very, very tightly so I could not move. I anticipated there would be much pain when castrated and was shaking. I was crying, begging her not to do it, but I didn't fight it. She ignored me and simply restrained me so she could work without distraction or difficulty.
There was this thing, I had never seen before. It was like a pair of pliers, of vice grips, except it stretched things out instead of clamping down on them. She took a really heavy, tiny band and put it over the posts of the pliers.
Mistress explained as she worked that this was an elastration device. The band was extremely tight, and when placed behind my balls would cut off all the blood flow. My balls would die slowly, and eventually shrivel and fall off.
This was mental torture. I was to be slowly castrated, painfully, and watch as my testicles atrophied and finally fell off. I cried and cried.
Mistress enjoyed my cries.
She showed me the band when the elastrator stretched it wide. It was big enough for only one testicle to be shoved through. Moving down to my exposed balls, she took my scrotum and began pulling the loose flesh through the band. Once she got a significant amount of scrotal flesh through she then shoved the first testicle through. It hurt, this pushing and prodding.
Once one testicle was through, she pushed the second one through. That one hurt as well.
So far it didn't hurt that badly, just the poking and prodding.
Then Mistress released the band. She made the vice thing get smaller and it sort of squeezed and crushed my testicles, though that wasn't its purpose. When the device was collapsed down, Mistress slowly pushed the band off its posts. I could feel it squeezing hard against my scrotum, and when it was released from the last post it squeezed my scrotum really hard, smashing it like a rubber band on steroids.
Surprisingly, it wasn't that painful, just yet. It hurt, the pressure was bad and the testicles were aching, but I could deal with it.
Mistress said it would take maybe a day or two for the banding to completely do its job. She released me, and I went about my household duties as if nothing was different. I cleaned the toilets, and laundered the sheets. I set the basics of a stew simmering for supper the next day.
All the while my balls ached, and bulged out unnaturally like a balloon. I couldn't stop thinking about how they were slowly dying. The pain got slowly worse as the blood flow stopped. At one point, I began to double over and moan.
Mistress gave me permission to lay curled up in the corner when the pain got that bad. I sobbed and felt the pain spreading. My balls were dying, and I could feel them dying. I looked at them. My scrotum had turned dark purple and was now well on its way to a black hue. I could touch them, and I did. I wanted to feel the blobs of flesh inside my ball sack, just to have the memory of what my balls felt like. Soon, they would be shriveled and fall off.
At about 11:00 PM, just before she went to bed, Mistress checked on my castration progress. She flicked my balls with her finger, making the bulging balloon of my scrotal sack bounce. She flicked it hard, repeatedly, testing the tension and pain levels. The pain was there, but the balls had gone numb. They ached very badly, but the sharp pain was giving way to more numbness.
Mistress took a shower and got ready for bed. During this time I stood in the corner, facing the wall. I couldn't stop thinking about my slowly dying balls. The pain was my testicles crying out that something was wrong, very wrong, that they were dying. I had been banded for about 5 hours then and knew that my body was permanently modified. I was a eunuch.
Then just before she went to bed she came to me and told me to spread my legs wide. I did. My balloon of a scrotum hung there, turning black. She took some heavy sheers and cut into the band, working into my scrotal flesh underneath the rubber and finally cutting the band and removing it.
The band suddenly popped off, and the blood suddenly flowed back into my balls. The pain skyrocketed. I screamed, and curled up in a fetal position.
Mistress explained she had changed her mind. That my balls had a purpose after all; they were my pain sack. She wanted them there so she could punish me. They are the easiest way for her to cause me discomfort and pain.
However, she said she was considering removing my penis. That really didn't have any purpose any more, she said.
The pain was too bad, I just lay there and tried to deal with my balls getting their blood flow back again, unable to process what she had said. Mistress had to whip me several times to get my attention and force me back into my cage.
The reality that Mistress was willing and able to permanently modify my body is a bit of a shock, but one that I am getting used to. I am truly owned, and no longer in control of any aspect of my life.