My Emasculation - pinned skinned and removed

The screens hummed quietly, their glow making the room feel even colder. My image, dissected and annotated, filled every panel as if I were already opened on a slab.

A tube was now pushed up my nose and down inside my throat, I gasped at first, then felt better as they opened an air tap and introduced oxygen into my lungs.

Sofi moved to a steel trolley at the far side of the room. She slid back its cover with a metallic scrape, revealing rows of instruments set in precise order: scalpels gleaming under the fluorescent lights, long-handled scissors, clamps, threads, needles, even trays of syringes already filled. Each piece shone with a cruel, sterile beauty, like trophies of their profession.

Sarah picked up a scalpel, turning it slowly in her gloved hand, letting the blade catch the light. She didn’t speak at first - she didn’t need to. The cameras caught the gesture and immediately the blade appeared magnified on the screens, twisting and glittering in high definition before my eyes.

Then she broke the silence, her voice flat and businesslike.

“You’ll notice everything is prepared. Every angle covered. Every cut will be recorded, archived, replayed. You’ll witness it as we do it.”

Sofi wheeled the trolley closer, the wheels clicking softly against the floor. She laid out instruments beside me, aligning them within easy reach. On the monitors, the split screens now displayed close-ups: the cold steel against the tray, my own skin beneath the straps, the distance between the two narrowing with every movement.

I felt the straps bite harder into my wrists as I tried to shift. The screens did not allow me to look away; each movement, each futile struggle, was magnified and replayed, proof of my helplessness.

Sarah leaned over, her eyes meeting mine just long enough to strip away any illusion of mercy.

“Now,” she said quietly, “let’s begin.”

Taking some cloth swabs she cleaned from my knees to the top of my stomach, using a blue coloured fluid that swelled of strong disinfectant. She paid particular attention to my genital area.

Sarah took out a round board from one of the cupboards - it was about 10 inches in diameter and had a small hole in the centre about an inch in diameter. She placed it on the table close to me. I noticed it was made out of fibreboard, I dense wood based material which was quite strong and a bit flexible - it was perhaps 1/4 inch thick.

They then placed an IV in my left arm and fixed a drip. They also injected some medicine into the line, explaining “the first is a strong antibiotic, the second steroids to keep you strong, the third adrenaline and caffeine to keep me awake and fully aware.”

I was thinking about the reason, I also wondered about anaesthetic as I was guessing the procedure they had in mind would be painful.

They checked all the straps for tightness. A further constraint was pulled over my forehead to immobilise my head.

The round board was placed near my groin, then one of the nurses threaded my penis through the centre hole. It was a bit painful as the sensitive glans slide through the rough opening. She then forced each testicle through the hole, this was even more painful as they were squeezed during the event. I tried to shout but no sound came out. The board was then strapped to my body.

By now I was getting severe cramp in my legs, the nurses noticed and give me some more medicine in my IV line, saying “this is a muscle relaxant, it will take away the pain of the cramps - we don’t do this to ease your suffering, we want you to be fully aware of the procedure.”