Seasoned

WARNING: Story below contains graphic descriptions of M/M sexual contact, drug use, castration, and bloody violence. Please save us all some trouble and move along if that doesn't sound like your bag of tricks.

Brad was hot shit and he knew it. The muscular bull walked past the line of people hoping to get into Club Indigo, waving at the bouncer as he breezed through the door. Club Indigo liked Brad; he was hot and could dance. Eye candy was good for business. Brad liked being eye candy - it got him lots of free drinks and all the pussy he could fuck.

Walking straight to the bar, Brad almost failed to notice as he knocked into a ferret, sending the slender mammal sprawling on the floor.

"Out'a mah way" Brad gruffed the words as he stepped over the ferret, narrowly missing crushing the creatures paw with a massive hoof. Stepping up to the bar he ordered his usual triple vodka Red Bull. He was already a little buzzed from doing a few rounds of shots at home, so the caffeine boost would help keep up for the night of dancing ahead.

The ferret picked himself up off the floor, glaring at the bull. The black markings surrounding his eyes like a robbers mask hid Fret's black beady eyes in the dimly lit club. If Brad had caught a look at those eyes he would have seen pure malice and contempt. Unluckily for Brad, he didn't see those eyes, he didn't see Fret, he didn't care.

The bull knocked back his drink quickly while gazing out onto the dance floor. Indigo was packed, and the humans and hybrids writhing on the dance floor made it look like a rippling pond being disturbed by the thunderous impact of the bass bins shaking the building to the beat of the track. Damn, there were some hot pieces of ass down there; tonight was going to be a great night for the bull. Finishing his drink he clopped down the stairs to work the dance floor and hit on some of those fine sows.

Brad's super-sized ego was certainly right about one thing: he could dance. Hoof stock often found it difficult to be graceful when dancing to electronic music; their cloven feet didn't get traction on smooth surfaces and their bodies were built more for quick, powerful movement rather than undulating rhythm. Brad enjoyed being the exception to this rule; ever since he was a little calf he'd liked electronic music, and practiced grooving to it. The bull got his whole body into it, rippling chest and muscular back leading big, authoritative movements that flowed like liquid out to his limbs. He always wore skin-tight shirts when dancing, their latex-like cling broadcasting every sensuous move, perfectly timed to the beat.

After a few tracks, Brad's forehead glistened, a slight sheen of sweat coating it. He stepped of the dance floor, heading to Indigo's lower bar for another triple. Gotta get keep that buzz going. Sitting on one of the low benches against the wall, he made eye contact with a brown bear in a leather jacket. The bear was staring at him, obviously mentally undressing the bull. God damned homos. Why did they always want him. Well, of course they wanted him, but why did they have to be so obvious about it? Trying to ignore the bear, Brad pulled out his iPhone to check in on Facebook while he drank.

Shae had sent him a message asking where he was tonight. Shae had an awesome rack and a sweet panther ass that Brad *loved* tapping. She took bull cock like a fucking pro. The bull was so engrossed in typing in an excited reply to her that he failed to notice a slender black paw ease through the curtain dividing the two halves of the bench. The paw dumped a small vial of clear liquid into his drink before withdrawing through the curtain, its owner slinking off into the shadows. 

The bull was already a little too buzzed from night of drinking to notice the slightly salty aftertaste of the rest of his drink. After returning to the dance floor he did however notice feeling looser and drunker than he expected. Body going on auto-pilot to the beat he added up the shots and two drinks in his head. Weird, he shouldn't feel quite this drunk. Shaking his head of the thought, the beast resumed his focus on dancing.

The flashing lights of the dance floor started blurring, leaving tracers of light in Brad's vision as his head tilted about to the music. The multi-colored light show shining down on him was mesmerizing. Brain taxed by the distraction, he found himself struggling to keep the beat, limbs feeling leaden and slow. His vision became more indistinct, every flashing source of light  above the dance floor brightening, starting to haze together. Suddenly dizzy, one of his hooves missed its mark sending him lurching forward, massive arms spinning for purchase on anything or anyone.

Fret caught the beast, showing surprising strength for someone half the weight of the massive bull. With judo-like precision the Ferret redirected the bull's weight and righted him. The ferret pulled one of Brad's arms over his shoulder to steady him.

"There, there - you don't seem well. Let's get you sat down." The ferret spoke the words with a cool, even tone as he guided the bull through the dance floor to one of the exits in the back.

Head pointed down, away from the spinning lights, he couldn't see where he was going. His tongue felt thick and dry, taking up far more of his mouth than it should. The music distorted, slowing. What was wrong with the DJ? He heard a door open in the distance. It was getting dark; had the club lost power? Feeling dizzy, the bull reeled. Although barely aware of it he was being expertly guided; his stumbles didn't stop his forward momentum across the floor, nor his exit from Indigo through the emergency door in the back. 

Eyes cracked open, revealing pure, white, blinding light. Slowly dimming, a room took shape, forms emerging from the brightness. Quick movement flashed across his field of vision, followed by a numb stinging on his face. Shaking his head, Brad realized he'd just been slapped.

"Rise and shine!" The words were hissed from an indistinct blob in front of him.

Eyes blinking, desperately trying to focus, Brad slowly took in the room emerging around him. He was hunched back on his knees on a rough wooden floor, boxed in by distant brick walls. A figure stood before him with dark appendages, and a light chest. Blinking a few more times he finally saw clearly enough to see he was faced by a naked ferret holding a large crescent wrench. Brain waking up more slowly than his body, it took him a moment to realize the ferret looked familiar. Yes, that's it, this was the ferret that he'd bumped into when he arrived.

What the fuck was going on? Surging forward to grab the ferret and demand some answers, Brad stopped short against cold metal gripping at his wrists and ankles behind his back. His thrusting movement against the restraints nearly dislocated one of his shoulders. Craning his head downward in desperation he saw handcuffs cutting into his thick wrists, joined by chain to leg restraints bolted to a metal U ring in the floor. What. The. Fucking. Hell.

Brad struggled against the restraints for a moment before realizing the futility. He was bent backwards from his knees, and there was clearly nothing he could do about it. He looked around again, trying to figure out where he was. Big bovine eyes darted around the empty room, looking desperately for something, anything that would help him. Finding nothing but a metal toolbox sitting next to the ferret, his eyes flicked down. Brad was naked. Why was he naked? Where were his clothes? What the hell was going on? Panic setting in, the bull screamed at his captor.

"Fuck you asshole! What the hell do you want?" The bull bellowed the question, vainly hoping the shouting might attract the attention of someone, anyone. 

Fret didn't respond verbally, instead simply looking down at the bull in front of him. The ferret's dark eyes scanned up and down the bull, soaking him in. Folding his chocolate-brown arms over his slender, athletic frame, he drummed his claws against his own forearms while he tried to decide where to start with his new 'guest'. He stepped forward before his captive, sneering down at him.

"Pretty bull like you needs to learn some manners." The ferret kicked, foot paw connecting with the Brad's furry brown balls. A pained moo escaped the bull's mouth, his face contorting at the crushing pain.

"The fuck is your problem?" True fear entered Brad's mind, gripping at the bull's psyche and rapidly eroding at his bravado. Brad's size meant that it wasn't often he didn't have the upper hand. Bound so tightly he knew he was helpless.

Fret swung the wrench viciously, connecting with the bull's right horn with a dull crack. Brad felt his horn give way, keratin and bone crunching. Blood dripped down the side of his face. He could feel the horn wiggle slightly as his body jerked in response to the pain. The horn was still held loosely to his head by its bony core. The ferret swung again, this time the blow knocking the horn clean off. It clattered to the floor behind the bull, leaving a thin splatter of blood draining from its base. The bovine felt warm blood coursing from the ragged bony stump left where his horn had once proudly sprouted.

"Not so fuck'n pretty now, 're ya?" Fret bent to hiss the words in the bull's face. Brad's nose filled with the stench of the ferret's foul breath. "Out of MY way you mean." The ferret punctuated the sentence with another swift kick to the bull's balls before stepping back and letting the wrench clatter to the floor.

Brad reeled from the pain. He'd never broken a bone before, much less had one snapped off his fucking head. This was agony - he could feel cool air piercing at nerve endings through to the very marrow of his skull. Even knowing it had been ripped of his head, he could still feel the horn, every phantom inch of it screaming with burning pain.

Fret bent again, digging into the toolbox to retrieve a utility knife and a cardboard carton. Flicking the blade out casually with his thumb, he stepped back over to tower over his trembling captive.

"th' fuck is that?!" The bull's words came as desperate sobs. Blood from his forehead was mixing with his flop sweat, pouring into his eyes. Through the stinging red he could make out the ferret kneeling before him. Brad blubbered, "No! PLEASE! Let me go! I'll give you anything you want."

"I'll take what I want anyway." The foul breath carrying the ferret's words sent a shiver down the bull's spine. Just what -did- he want anyway?

Brad didn't have much time to ponder Fret's intent: he slashed forward with the knife, cutting a six inch long gash diagonally across the bull's pecs. The dull blade tore through the skin, nicking at his ribcage. Although not a deep slice, it was enough to push the bull over the edge. A strangled scream erupted from the bovines throat, cut short by another slash crossing his chest the other way. Now left with a bloody X marked in his chest the bull found himself in more pain than he could have imagined possible in his wildest nightmares. Raw nerve endings rubbed against each other as each ragged breath moved his chest, flexing raw flesh and nicked ribs.

The kneeling ferret used the knife to slice open the cardboard carton in his other hand. He shook the carton at Brad's chest, white rock salt granules spilling onto the fresh wounds. Brad was shocked to find his pain could reach a new, higher plateau. The salt ate bitterly at his nerve endings, feeling like acid eating away at the raw flesh.

Brad had seen this in a horror movie before and looked it up after. He knew that salt helped clot wounds. Fuck. That could only mean the Ferret wanted to make this last. The fear that gripped at the bull's mind was starting to mingle with despair. Where was this going to go? Was he going to live through the night?

Although not answering the question, Fret's next slice with the utility knife certainly distracted him from it. The knife made quick, precise strokes across the bull's muscular stomach, each no more than an inch or two long. Four strokes later, a rough 'E' seeped blood on the right side of his chest. The carving continued, words emerging, carved in block letters. A 'U' followed by an 'N'. Another 'U', followed by a 'C' and an 'H'.

Eunuch. Eunuch? EUNUCH!?!?! Looking down at his chest, Brad's panic rose to new horrific heights. The word burnt into his mind as vividly as it was carved into his abdomen like a twisted banger tattoo. Fuck! This isn't happening. This can't be happening. This isn't real. This twisted fuck wasn't seriously going to lay a paw on his perfect bullhood, was he? 

Fret shook more rock salt onto Brad's chest. Every stinging granule sent electric waves of pain coursing through his nervous system. Neurons fired seemingly at random, a mix of pain, panic, and revulsion. This wasn't something that happened in real life. This was something from a B-grade horror film.

Seemingly satisfied with his typography, the ferret put down the carton of salt, freeing a paw to reach out and grab at the bull's abused balls. He grasped one of them and gave a gentle tug. Under other circumstances it would have elicited a yelp from the bull, but compared to the piercing pain screaming at his poor bovine brain from elsewhere in his body he barely felt it. He did however hear the hissed words which followed.

"Gonna make you into a sow now." The words cut deeply into Brad's brain. The bull strained against his bonds anew. Fuck, he couldn't be serious.

"HELP! ANYBODY! HELP ME!" The bovine's screams echoed through the brick building.

Fret's muzzle pulled into a sadistic grin. He liked the bull's cries for help. The Ferret knew nobody could hear him, much less help him. Fret liked to plan ahead. Fret liked to be prepared.

Tugging gently, Fret pulled the furry brown bull balls taught. His other paw lifted to set the tip of the knife at their neck.

"Ready?" The ferret only received screams and begging as a response.

With a few deft strokes Fret sliced around the bull's scrotum, expertly cutting only skin, leaving the giant white testicles connected to the bull's abdomen by the long stringy vas deferens, hidden in a mass of nerves and blood vessels. Carefully he peeled back the skin, denuding the balls completely. He quickly sliced the ball sac open, splaying it before shoving it roughly down on the bull's face.

The sheer horror of having his own bloody ballsack smeared against his mouth and nose made Brad want to faint. He could smell the musky scent of his sweaty balls mingled with the almost metallic scent of blood. The incessant pain streaming through his nervous system combined with the smell of his own manhood forced the bull into a hyperaware state. Everything around him snapped into focus, from the agonizing pain he was in to the clear realization that he was on the verge of no longer being a bull.

Fret put the knife down on the floor amidst a slowly growing pool of blood draining from the ringed wound from which the bulls naked testicles hung. Both paws lifted to grasp the pearly white orbs, one in each hand. He cupped at them, gripping and prodding at their tenderness.

Finally shaking his nutsack from his face, Brad squirmed. Having your nuts handled naked wasn't an experience he ever thought he'd have. In his state of clarity he realized that aside from the torturous pain it actually felt pretty good. With a not-so-gentle tug from the ferret he changed his mind, snapping back into his panicked state. His hips thrust involuntarily in the direction of the tug. Sharp pain erupted from the bull's left shoulder as he felt it dislocate, the arm sagging down held in place only by tendons and skin. He shrieked again; the blood-curdling scream of someone who knew they might not ever scream again erupting from his mouth.

Fret yanked again, seeing the bundle of nerves and ducts tenuously connecting the balls to the bull strain. His captive's struggles giving him a sexual thrill, he felt his own pink ferret cock hardening. With an evil grin, he gave one final, violent tug. The testicles popped off, a small spray of blood and seminal fluid erupting from the strained tubes that had been connecting them. Bundles of nerves snapped, sending exquisite new waves of pain shooting up Brad's spine. The bull's hips thrust out again, another petrified scream escaping the new gelding.

The ferret looked down at the juicy testes held in his hands. He gave them a gentle squeeze before carefully setting them down on the floor behind him. Without further pause he knelt before Brad and grabbed at the bulls last vestige of manhood, gripping the cock firmly with his left hand. The right hand lowered to pick the utility knife up from the floor. With a single deliberate motion the ferret sliced downward, separating the thick member from it's host cleanly. Blood welled up from the fresh wound, draining down the the bovine's crotch and legs into the growing puddle on the floor. Too overwhelmed to scream, Brad barely responded other than to sob more loudly. He knew he wasn't a bull anymore. He knew he wasn't hot shit. Brad knew that his life as a man was over.

The ferret stood, stepping forward to straddle the bear's chest. Holding Brad's severed cock above the bull's face, he made a few jabbing motions at the base with the knife, slicing it open and widening the urethra into a pulpy mess. Making sure he had the bull's full attention, he slowly slid the bull's cock onto his own, using it as a macabre fleshlight. As he thrust down, a rivulet of the bull's blood leaked from the tip of his massive cock-cum-condom.

Fret started massaging his cock with the bull's sheath, fucking it slowly. Brad's eyes were locked on his own ex-cock, seeing it slide over the ferret's smaller fuck pole. He realized he had lost every trace of his manhood: no erections, nothing to stick in a pussy, no urinals... no dick at all. His mind raced, moving from his castration to darker, more mortal thoughts. What if he was going to die? Fuck. He didn't want to be tomorrow's headline, "Ex-bull Found Dead In Warehouse."

With a grunt the Ferret thrust his hips forward one last time. Brad saw bloody cum leak out the tip of his cock, dripping down onto his face. The pungent smell of Fret's cum was too much for the bull. Weakened from pain, blood loss, and an overload of sheer horror, he got his wish and finally fainted. Unconscious, his body sagged against his restraints, torso teetering on his strained hips.

Fret took a step back, pulling the limp bull-sheath from his dick and tossing it aside like a bloody condom; it was far too mangled to be of much use to him again. The rats might like it for a snack.

Fret bent to carefully pick up the balls. He put them in the toolbox before withdrawing a key. The ferret quickly undid the sow's shackles, letting the eunuch collapse down onto the floor into the slowly growing pool of his own blood. He stopped long enough to sprinkle some salt on the fresh groin wounds to slow the bleeding. No sense letting such a fine specimen bleed out after all.

Smiling proudly, Fret walked out the door, toolbox in hand. He knew the bull's balls were going to make a fantastic addition to his collection.