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The hulking black bull smiled as he removed his fine robes and heavy fabric, setting them on a tall rack next to his armor. Being the lord of the land had many perks...Being its chief justice was not usually one of them, but today, he relished it. Today, a long-desired goal would be achieved. Lord Blake had found a big, burly farmer, fallen on hard times, guilty of failing to pay his debts and taxes, and had given him a choice of sentences....languishing in debtor's prison, or a new life...as his steer. The pact was already accepted before the court (him), now there was just...some business to take care of. He took off all his finery, leaving himself wearing only a tunic of better-than-average cloth and a coarse kilt, which barely hid his bovine assets. He expected his new servant would be dressed similarly, only with wrist irons instead of jeweled gold rings.

His servants, mostly young cows and lesser hoofers, made sure that the stables were emptied, and that there was a clear path from there to his rooms. The big bull, broad-chested and strong-armed, with a stout belly and broad hips, strode down to the stables, and sorted through the iron tools they used on beasts while he waited for his new plaything to arrive.

Meanwhile, the walk to the lord's manor had been a long one for Esmond. The two bear's that had come to collect the farmer had not said a word the whole journey. The only sound they made came from their armor as they walked from the abondance bull's home, leaving his only son there alone by to take care of the farm he'd worked so hard to keep, and had nearly lost. They took him in through a back entrance to the manor; it seemed to be where supplies and horses were brought in.

The heavy set farmer watched as the stable came into view, he wondered why the guards would bring him there, but as the lord of the land came into view, and his eyes traced over all sorts of metal instruments, he realized this would be the place the first part of his debt would be replayed. The guards stood at attention and held Esmond by his shoulders, his hands covering his crotch, his wrists and ankles weighed down by the heavy chains.

The big black bull smirked as he saw the peasant covering his crotch, as if anticipating what was to happen next. "And well he may be", the large black bull thought to himself, "what bull wouldn't be terrified at the prospect of letting another bull castrate him?" Lord Blake nodded to the guards, his muzzle compressing his double chin, and gestured to a heavy hook set in the beams supporting the roof.

The guards marched the farmer over to it and lifted his arms, hooking his shackles over it; the height is just a little more than he could naturally reach; he's forced to balance on the very tips of his hooves. They let the bull hang there for a moment. They want him to feel his body pull on his arms, threatening to tear his arms from his sockets, before they finally flip over a wooden wheelbarrow for him to kneel on. Thee position is still uncomfortable, though; and it makes the clothes Esmond wore fit poorly, bunching up around his shoulders and leaving his belly and sides nearly bare.

Lord Blake knew that with the abondance bull was secured enough that the guards would not be needed. He turned to them and gestured for them to leave with a nod, his thick chin compressing as he did. He stepped forward, appraisingly looking over the farmer's hefty frame, just as he did that day in court..."Esmond, if memory serves," he said. He put his thick, strong hands on the farmer's chest, rubbing the abondance bull's broad torso and softer belly.

"Yes it is Lord Blake," The bull admits, his ears lowering as he realized the man who was about to take away his manhood could barely remember his name.

Esmond gulped as his arms are lifted up, glancing at the sturdy hook in the beam above him that looked like it'd been added recently just for this purpose. He could feel his knees digging into the wood of the wheelbarrow, there was a stiff wind and his kilt fluttered around his thick thighs. The abundance bull watched as the larger bull walked over to him, his fat hands reaching out to slowly slide across his belly, squeezing and feeling it as if he was sizing it up. The position he was in made him spread out his legs, letting his large red balls swing freely under his kilt and between his thick thighs. He thought about how much he'd miss that feeling of freedom between his legs on warm summer days. "May I ask a question my lord?"

"You may," the bull lord said, as he began pulling Esmond's tunic up, bunching it in his hands and loosening it, before jerking it open, baring the lesser bull's gut that disappeared under his kilt. Lord Blake's powerful bovine musk clung heavily to the air, making his arousal clear, even over the rank scent of beasts normally quartered in that space. "You can ask me anything, Esmond. You are going to be one of my most trusted servants... I want you always to feel you can speak openly with me." The black bull rubbed his captive's large belly, his strong hands kneading that thick gut.

"Thank you sir" The bull said as he tried not to fidget too much as his lord manhandled him. Though he couldn't stop his nose from flaring as the scent of the bull's musk entered his nose, only adding to the peasant's confusion and fear, he was starting to piece together the answer to his question before he asked it, but he had to be sure. "My Lord, why have you decided to remove my bullocks and make me into a servant? Surely there must have been someone more qualified than a poor farmer to serve you."

The big black bull gracefully moved behind Esmond, sliding in behind the bull so that his belly pressed against the broad back of his new servant. "There are many who serve me," he replied, "but no bull would allow me to take their balls unless they had no other choice, as you did." He pressed his hips against Esmond's thick rump, further erasing the old bull's doubts about his new position. "But, why want such a thing at all, is your next question. One you probably already know the answer," he said, putting a hand on your backside and caressing that old bull's broad ass, "it is a sin for men to lay with men. But, without your balls, you're no longer a man, and I can have you as my lust dictates. So why do I need a nutless steer for my bed? I have many cows. But you can't take cows into battle, or abroad," he explained, "You can't take them hunting, you can't talk to them about matters of state. All they want is romance and drivel," he snorted. "So you see, you will play an important role for me..."

The soon-to-be steer gulped as he felt the bull's crotch press against his rump, he wasn't sure if the bull was hard or if that thick thing pressed between his cheeks was merely the creature's sheath and the shaft had a ways to grow. He began to softly shake in his chains as he pictured himself writing underneath that large bull, that bulls thick shaft sliding in and out of his white splotched rump as those balls smacked the place where his had once hung...The farmer thought about calling the bull a monster, and telling him that he was still a sinner even if he chopped off his balls, but as he thought back to his son, he knew he just had to accept his fate like the man he is... At least, while he could. "So true Lord Blake... We would have a lot to talk about together, things womenfolk would never understand." He paused for a second, and tried to sound as sincere as possible with his next sentence. "I'm sure it will be a pleasure to serve you, my lord."

The big black bull snorted. "Are you sure? Then perhaps I chose more wisely than I thought. Now then..." With a lewd leer, he lifted up Esmond's kilt, revealing his heavy white bonny sac which swayed between the farmer's thick thighs. Rumbling, the Lord hooked Esmond's kilt over the base of his tail, and reached between his legs, grasping those heavy white calfmakers in his strong, solid grip. He tugged on them, pulling them out behind the old bull's rump to examine them, inspect them, and massage them in his strong hands. "Good...when I saw you in the court, I imagined you would have a fine set of calfmakers to offer me..."

"Yes my Lord." Esmond replied before he felt the fabric of his kilt being yanked up, and a set of male hands grab his bullocks! He let out a soft grunt as he felt those strong fat fingers start to squeeze down on his prized family jewels. As he felt them being pulled back, he couldn't help but arch his back, sticking out his rump as if he was presenting it into Lord Blake. He could feel his own bull hood start to rise as the larger black bull's fondling fingers massaged his pent up orbs... it'd been years since he'd had a proper release, the church forbid pleasure oneself, and his wife had died years ago to the flu... He could feel those pent up orbs churn in the bull's strong grip, his own pent up musk rising in the air as his shaft lifted up the front of his kilt. He leaned his head back and let out a long soft moo.

The fat black bull licked his lips as he kept massaging those hefty bovine cummers. "They say...they say the old ways, back in the godless times, there used to be many more steers...dozens of bulls...castrated every year. The high priests...would cut off their balls," he says, as he slowly caressed and massaged those cummers, the scent of his own lust growing stronger, "as sacrifice to pagan gods...Fathers would steer all but their favorite sons, each year they would inspect their claves' balls to see which was most worthy of carrying on the line..." Lord Blake pressed his belly against Esmond's back again, and reached around his front to rub the bull's bare chest and soft mantits. "You're a handsome bull, and I'm going to cut off your balls. Do you have any last requests, as a bull?"

"Y...yes, I know those stories well... I remember hearing about one of the tests they'd perform; a father would mount their son's just to test how much of a man they were. They'd stroke their shafts and if they shot as their father bred them like a cow, they'd know he'd need to be cut, because he wasn't worthy of carrying on the line and he'd be better off as a steer to be rutted by other males." The big bull thought as he talked, buying time as he figured out his last request. "The only request I have would be to keep my balls, but I know that won't happen, my Lord. So I'm ready for whatever you may have planned."

"You know, I had heard it the other way around...that young bullocks were cut if they didn't cum from being fucked, because they clearly had no use for their balls. I wonder which version is true," he mused, as his belly ground against the farmer's back; his own large male lump pressed against Esmond's as he reaches around him and caresses the bull's belly and then those strong black hands and slid down to the farmer's waist, and unfasten the man's kilt. He let his servant's last garment drop, letting the red bull's erection bob in the air. He kept holding his lesser's testicles with one hand, before he grasped the other bull's bobbing shaft.

"I bet it's one of those mysteries lost to the ages." The bull comments as he feels those big strong bull hands unfasten his kilt, letting it fall to the wheelbarrow beneath him, leaving him fully exposed to the bull. He blushed, the white on his face nearly turning pink. He let out a sharp gasp as he felt the lord's hand grasp his shaft. He couldn't help but let out a long drawn out moan as he felt the heat of that palm, it'd been so many years since anyone, including himself, had touched him in that way. As the bulls words passed into Esmond's ears, a battle went on inside him. He knew it'd be so wrong for this bull to fuck him while he still had his balls... but that chance to cum one last time as a male and spread his seed was just too tempting of an offer to turn down. Lord Blake gave a lustful snort. "Mmm...I've never held another bull's shaft before. You're so aroused, Esmond...Perhaps I should give you that ancient test..."

"If you wish my Lord." Esmond replied submissively.

The black bull snorted hotly onto the red bull's ear...and patted his wide rump firmly. He left Esmond for a moment, letting him hang there, trussed up, naked, erect and vulnerable, as he collected some tools and an oilskin from their place. "I've seen many beasts shoot their last load as they were gelded," he said as he moved behind his servant, and let his own kilt drop to the ground. "We'll tell everyone that you did the same..." Esmond felt the rich bull's belly against his back, and then he felt an oiled shaft slide between the crack of his red wide ass. He reached around the bull, grasping that shaft again..."Wouldn't be far from the truth..." He said as he pushed into the puckered hole between that farmer's cheeks.

Esmond watched as the bull gathered the tools that would lead to his unmaling, gulping as his shaft bobbed in front of him, the chance at cumming for the last time overriding any fear that might make it go down. He watched as his new master walked behind him, he could hear the rustling of fabric, and a few moments later he could feel Lord Blake's slickened shaft slide between his red butt cheeks. "Thank you for your kindness sir." The soon-to-be steer said as he felt his new master's hot breath roll across his neck as that big belly pressed into his lower back, he could feel that warm hand grip his shaft again as the head of the bull's monster cock slid against his tight opening. Soon a long drawn out "Moooooooo!" of pain and pleasure filled the stable as Esmond felt his new owner's bullhood slide into his tight entrance.

The bovine lord's belly pressed firmly against Esmond's back, and he held his hips in a tight grip as he pushed his long pole into that red bull's puckered backdoor. "Nnnghh! Yes, moo, my fuck-bull; moo like a big male cow! Hrrr you've got a big ASS," the lord snorted as he thrust, shoving in hard, hitting the former farmer's rump with his wide waist, "just like a holstein...good thing I have a large BED just for you!" He panted heavily in the other bull's ear, and reached under his belly, grabbing his new servant's throbbing shaft hard, and began to roughly jerk it. "Mmm, so hard...hard from being fucked and thinking about being castrated..."

All the Esmond could do was squirm, his chains rattling with each powerful thrust of the male behind him. He could feel the bull thrusting against something that felt swollen inside of him, something that made his whole body shake with desire as each thrust brought him closer and closer to the edge of release. "Oh yes my lord!" He cried out, his brain being taken over by lust. "Please, faster, breed me like the cow I am." He spurted out before another long drawn out moan escaped his lips. He writhed around that shaft, his big butt and belly shaking with every thrust of the better male's dick. He could already feel himself getting close.

Every time those fat calf makers slapped against his own and that stud stick thrusted all the way inside of him, it filled him with a pleasure he hadn't felt in years. He groaned as that bull stroked his dick, the sensation just too much to bear, he wanted to hold off, he wanted to stop himself, but it'd just been too long. He could feel his balls start to pull up close to his body, and he felt pre start to pool at the head of his shaft, sliding down and making the bull's pumping fist go even faster.

For his part, Lord Blake knew he was going to cum in this big bull's fat ass. That was the point of fucking after all...and that hot rump felt SO good, so tight! And more than that, he was finally fulfilling a lifelong fantasy; of have another bull at his mercy, to have him completely, to dominate him, even take his balls! The ancient tales had always filled him with lust, and now he was fucking a big bull, with big balls, that would come off... oh, such a good bull was he! He could feel that shaft throbbing in his hand as he pumped it... He reached down and grabbed that big scrotum, grabbing and pulling hard on those fat balls while his own knocked against them! Finally, after only a few minutes, the big black bull snorted, and his hot cum pulsed into that big wide ass...

Esmond could feel his balls as they were yanked down from their tightened position. He let out a long drawn out mooooo as pain and pleasure once again surged through him. He panted, the balls thrusting pole combining with his stroking hand making the bull lose himself in pleasure. He felt the bull behind him kick up the pace, and his whole body shuddered as he joined the bull, one final orgasm washing over his body as his seed sprayed across the floor and into the dirt and hay; like so many other beasts of burden had done in this very stable. He could barely see straight, his whole vision clouding as he struggled for breath. His eyes glancing down at the flagon full of seed he'd shot, and hoping that his son would find a nice cow and start having children soon... it looked like to Esmond that his seed would never plant a fertile field again.

The black bull stroked Esmond's shaft, pulled it, squeezed it, milking the last dregs of bull milk out it before letting go, and backing up off of him. He was panting as well, his breath heavy; and the red bull heard a soft rustle as he put his kilt back on. "The rest...we'll save for the bedroom," he said with a pat on the former farmer's meaty ass, and then he grasped the bull's balls firmly. "For now...it is time." He lifted them up, behind the male's big rump, and tapped a metal tool against them. "I'm told this method hurts less...than others," he offers as mild comfort...

The red and white splotched bull moaned as he felt the last drops of his cum milked from his dick, before feeling that big bull slide out of his abused rear end, warm cum dribbling down and along the back of his sac. The only way to reply he could think of was, "Thank you sir, I can't wait." Before a twinge of guilt ran through the bulls heart as he thought about how badly he'd just sinned, but as something cold and metal tapped his nuts, fear replaced that guilt quickly. He looked down, trying to make out the object in the bull's hand. "And just what way is that?"

The black bull gently patted the red and white bull's ass. "Best if you don't think about it," he rumbled, and then his hand appeared by Esmond's cheek, holding a thick fold of leather. "Bite down on this...it will be over more quickly for you." The black bull moved back then, and two halves of the blunt metal tool slid around Esmond's scrotum...Teasing his balls, then sliding up the sac until wedged close up between the farmer's thick thighs. He snorted behind Esmond, and the tool began squeezing... hard!

"Yes, my lord." Esmond responded, before his mouth was filled with a thick strap of leather. He watched as those two thick pieces of blunt metal surrounded his sac, he could feel as the bull worked his testicles around in their pouch, pulling them down tightly as, before finally his hand twitched as his grip tightened and the bull's eyes shot wide open. He cried through his gag as he felt the cords attaching his orbs to his body begin to be crushed. He begged for it to stop, he begged for the pain to end through the leather in his mouth, but all he could do was squirm on top of the wheelbarrow as his maleness slowly drained from his body...

Amidst Esmond's gurgling, gagged cries, and the noise of the thrashing of his legs against the wheelbarrow, another, softer noise was drowned out. The crushing pain on his sac was so terrible; he couldn't even feel the sharp blade pressed against it. Only if he were looking down, only if your eyes were clear, would he have seen the blade before that black hand sawed it against the bull's scrotum... and then there was the quiet thump as the steer's severed balls hit the bottom of the wheelbarrow.

Esmond had tears rolling down his face as he glanced down between his thick thighs, watching as blood trickled down over the bulls hand and onto the heavy sac that had once been attached to his body. It had really happened, he'd spend the rest of his days as a steer, servicing the real bulls, and making sure their balls were always fully drained.

The heavy sac was quickly scooped up by the other bull's hand, before Esmond felt the pressure and warmth of his belly against his back, and those hands caressing his ass, hips, belly again. "There, there," the bull cooed gently. "It's all over now. You're a steer...You're MY steer." He chuckled softly. "It may not be so bad after all..."

Esmond nodded, pressing his back to the bull's front, the bull's words combing with his curiosity, wondering just how many times he might be able to cum before his castration takes full effect. "Yes my lord, I have a feeling it won't be..."