Castrated in Revenge for Rape
by MartinOOOO@hotmail.com (four letters oh, not four numbers 0)
A Schoolgirl seduces me, her PT Teacher and castates me at the moment of rape.

I am a fit domineering male PT teacher in a girls' school. On day front of 
the
whole class a pretty, pubescent skinny little prick-teaser seduces me in 
class
with her angelic little face, thick girlie plaîts, and the sight of her 
tight, shiny, silky, wet-look panties under her miniskirt. The situation 
quickly becomes rape. My manly chest is crushing her little titty-buds and 
my pubic bone is grinding her silky skirt against her silky panties against 
her pubic bone as I hold her plaîts in both of my hands. The huge beast of a 
penis is thrusting
deep inside her belly craving for release; my balls bang against her pale,
skinny little rounded thighs. Then our eyes lock as she grabs my bollocks in
one hand, pulling them down to expose my stretched scrotum. Suddenly, from
being a strutting, proud, conquering rapist, I become a helpless, 
grovelling,
vanquished prisoner, in the power of her delicate little hand. She announces
that she is going to castrate me, and places the blade of the knife against 
my
ball sac.

It is a battle of wills: On one side is my will to stop myself, aided by 
taste of fear in my mouth and the terror of castration.

On the other side my grunting masculine body is like a wild animal out of
control, fuelled by my male urges and the power of the girl's femininity: My
emotional need for her. Her pretty little face. The tactile delight of her 
lovelly plaîts. Her tits. Her thighs. The soft firmness of her little mound 
of Venus. The exquisite sinuous movement of her hips as her tight little 
vagina contracts spasmodically on my thrusting, sliding cock.

It is the look of triumph on her lovely mocking face, the look of dominance 
in
her eyes that tips me over the edge. As I beg for my manhood, I see the
female pride in her eyes at my defeat and my pre-come becomes an itch with
the intensity of fire in the end of my prick. My whole body strains for 
relief. In frustration I plead for her to release me, finish me off, 
castrate me! With a
squeal of delight the girl reaches her own climax and gives a little girlie 
giggle as she slices my bollocks off, holding up bloody manhood, my man 
meat, like a trophy for all the other girls to admire.

At that very moment of my emasculation, I cry out in ecstasy as my enslaved
body explodes into orgasmic climax. My back arches, my toes curl, and my
hot surrender-juice spurts out of me, deliciously forcing its way past the 
end of my prick to spurt deep inside her belly. Oh sublime humiliation! 
Female
defeats male! Female revenge! Girl Power! Dominant female, submissive
male! The ultimate triumph of beautiful delicate fragile little femininity 
over
ugly strong powerful masculinity! The girl's body milks my maimed body of 
the
rest of my disgusting male slime, exacting every drop of my submissive 
tribute
as the waves of our mutual orgasms pulse though our jerking, twitching
bodies, both straining for that last relief form our sexual urges. As the 
relief
releases my body from its enslavement, and, thankfully, before the
excruciating pain overwhelms me, one of the watching girls injects a shot of
morphine. Oh happy, satisfied, blissful sleep!