From the PeterFiles:
Betting the Ranch
Judy’s manipulation escalates as she teases him with the ominous threat of castration, drawing Peter deeper into a psychological and sexual power struggle. As he grapples with the allure of submission, the encounter culminates in a shocking twist. Both he and the reader are left questioning where fantasy ends and reality begins.
For adult masturbators only – A dark erotic fantasy in three chapters – By Richard Lovel – Copyright 2025 (all rights reserved)
Chapter 3
She drew up a short stool and sat down behind him. “We strap the bulls in the stall, just like this, and tie their legs apart. That way we can get at their bags easy.”
She reached between his legs and began gently scratching his scrotum with her fingernails. Peter sighed deeply in spite of his growing anxiety.
“Please, Judy… I don’t like this game very much. Can we go back now?”
She ignored him and continued in a disassociated, dreamlike voice.
“You know that hired man I found out here? I didn’t finish tellin’ you about him. You see, I didn’t go tell Maw right away. I watched him for a few minutes first, while he was messin’ around in the extractor. When he saw me watchin’, the way he looked at me sort of made me mad. He was starin’ at my tits, and that reminded me how he was always rubbin’ up against me, trying to get a feel of them. That polecat just kept humping the machine and starin’ at me, and then he said, ‘Hey honey, take those boobies out and let me see ’em.'”
Her tone shifted again, darker, more intense.
“Well that really made me mad, I decided to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t forget. I told him I’d show him my tits if he’d let me milk him like a bull, with the straps and all. Well that fool didn’t even suspect, and no time a’tall I had him tied down, just like you. I showed him my tits like I promised, and I set the extractor to milkin’ him.”
“When he got goin’ good, talkin’ trash about wanting to fuck me so hard, I slipped behind him and put the castrator right here, right around the top of his sac, like this.” She opened the handles and encircled the neck of Peter’s scrotum with the pliers. The cold iron on his tender manhood made him wince.
“At first he thought I was just kiddin’ him. But then I started squeezing.”
She pressed the handles of the Burdizzo, gently tightening the jaws around Peter’s trapped glands, just hard enough to panic him. “Ow! Oh please, Judy, don’t! Let me go…”
She continued, lost in memory. “That’s when he figured what was happenin’. He realized I wasn’t just teasin’, that I was really gonna do it. He started beggin’ me.”
She leaned closer to Peter’s ear, her breath hot against his neck. “I felt something beautiful in that moment, when we both knew he’s about to lose his balls forever.”
Sweat beaded on Peter’s forehead, trickling down his temples. The terror, the primal dread of emasculation in the deepest parts of the male brain.
“He started to panic, thrashin’ around, but I had him strapped in tight. Nowhere to go, nothin’ to do but take what was comin’.” Her voice quickened with excitement. “And the funny thing was, even though he was beggin’ me to stop, his cock stayed hard and he kept humpin’ that receiver.”
Judy opened the jaws and removed the tool from his organs. Peter breathed a sigh of relief. She flicked on the extractor again and the machinery hummed to life. The gentle pull of the vacuum on his penis, the soft ridges inside the sleeve, the rhythmic massage — despite his terror, his body responded traitorously, blood flowing to his stiffening member.
“I could tell he was gettin’ close. When I saw his nuts starting to tighten up, I whispered in his ear, told him just let go, I’d let him have one last finish. I kept my word. I nutted him just when he finished his last squirt.”
She paused, breathing deeply, as if savoring that memory.
“It’s time to finish milkin’ you, little cousin. Can I make it real special for you?” A moment later Peter felt the cruel metal again encircle his fragile masculinity
“Judy, please, no …”
“C’mon, Peter, let me castrate you. I bet you’ll like it. That hired man knew what I was doin’ to him, but he still had the biggest cum I ever saw. Just knowing it was his last made it really special for him. Let me do it to you.”
With the Burdizzo tightening ominously on his scrotum, Peter’s mind raced, searching for escape from this nightmare he’d stumbled into. He tried to sound calm as he reasoned with the half-crazed girl.
“No, Judy, let’s not make this one my last, maybe another time. Sure, we could play the game again tomorrow, and you finish it that time. But not now, OK?”
The extractor’s rhythmic suction pulled at him. Each pulse of the receiver sleeve mimicked the vaginal contractions of a woman, an obscene temptation in the circumstance.
“Look at you. Your mouth says no, but your dick’s saying yes. It makes you hard knowing what’s comin’.”
Peter sensed a ghastly truth in her words: somewhere beneath the layers of terror, a part of him was responding sexually.
Her voice became intimate, tender, almost loving.
“C’mon, Peter, do it for me. You really like me, don’t you?”
“…Yes, Judy… but…”
“It’d be sort of like goin’ steady, like giving me your class ring, only better. Let me fix you, so you stay a virgin always. Then I’d know you can’t never get some other girlfriend and forget me.”
Peter squirmed in his bonds, testing the grip of the tool on his testicles. He
made a small, involuntary sound—not quite a moan, not quite a whimper. “…but…”
A nameless urge stirred within him, reaching back through the millennia, to a time when women ruled over men. In an age when men sacrificed their masculinity to honor the high priestess of the Earth Mother. What would it feel like? The ecstatic release, the moment of crushing force, the lifetime of chaste devotion to his beautiful despoiler? Confusion filled him as the extractor drew him inexorably toward spending.
“I’d take good care of you after,” she promised, her voice honeyed with tenderness. “You’d be my special boy. My gelding. I’d still milk you regular, even if nothing comes out. Did you know that? Some men can get hard after they’re neutered, still feel good when they’re milked. They just shoot blanks is all.”
Her words painted a picture in Peter’s mind: emasculated, docile and obedient. A eunuch, living only for her pleasure. No more urgent needs, no more desperate midnight masturbation sessions. Just calm acceptance and the occasional reward of her attention. Some part of him found it strangely compelling.
In the clear tube his penis swelled, the head darkened with blood, a bead of fluid oozing from the tip.
“That’s it,” Judy cooed, her breath warm against his ear. “Don’t fight it. I can feel your nuts tightenin’ up. They know what’s coming. C’mon little cousin, let me do it to you, let me castrate you.”
As she spoke, Peter surrendered to the pulsing suction. His hips bucked, driving his penis deeper into the receiver’s embrace, and semen spurted in powerful jets, spattering against the clear walls of the tube.
“Now, Peter! While you’re letting go– can I do it?”
In a delirium he moaned, “Please… Judy… Please…”
But he would never know for certain whether he meant “Please don’t”– or “Please do.”
The moment stretched between them, taut with possibility. As the last spasm of ejaculation subsided, the extractor gave one final pulse before falling silent. The pressure of the castrator eased. Peter’s body trembled in the aftermath, sweat cooling on his skin, breath gradually slowing as reality reasserted itself.
Judy laid aside the castrator. She gently cradled his sacks in her palm and patted his naked backside comfortingly.
“Shhh. It’s all over now. No harm done. You’ve still got everything where it’s supposed to be. You done real good.”
Peter couldn’t speak. His body hung limp in the restraints, depleted. His mind floated, disconnected. Not quite relief, not quite disappointment.
At last Judy freed him and helped him to his feet. She retrieved his clothes from where they’d been discarded.
“Did you think I was really goin’ to fix you, Peter?” she asked, handing him his underwear. Her tone was light, playful. For her the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a harmless prank. “You sure creamed like you thought it was goin’ to be your last. C’mon, now. Didn’t that make it more exciting?”
His words came reluctantly. “It was… more intense than anything I’ve ever felt.”
She smiled as she helped him into his jeans. “Thought so. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell nobody that my city cousin gets off on bein’ nutted by a girl.”
In the following weeks Judy would thrill him with countless masturbatory treats—in the breeding barn with the extractor, in the hay loft with her knowing fingers, in the divine valley between her breasts—but none would quite equal the intensity of that first experience. She never threatened him with castration again, though the Burdizzo remained visible on the shelf in the breeding barn, a silent reminder of possibilities unexplored.
The sun was setting as they walked back to the ranch house, casting long shadows across the dusty yard. He glanced at his cousin and asked the question that had been nagging at him.
“Judy,” he ventured, his voice still not quite steady, “that time with the hired man. That was just a story, right? You didn’t really… did you?”
She turned to him. Something passed across her face—something secret, far away. Then she smiled, just an ordinary country girl once more.
“Hey! I think I hear Maw’s dinner bell. Race you back!” she called, already breaking into a run toward the house, leaving his question hanging unanswered in the evening air.
~ ~ ~ End
Chapter Index
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
RL-2025-12-17