But gay kids? Ones caught experimenting more than once or twice, or constantly rubbing up against their mates in the showers? Of them, he was less certain, but there were rumors beyond the forced transgenderization of some. They knew other things happend, but just what was pure conjecture on their parts. None of the ideas discussed on the playground sounded pleasant.
He slept, finally. And awoke, far too soon, had a quiet breakfast with his dad, and caught the bus to a new life.
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It was cold, laying on the clinics’ steel exam table.
By 8:05 his Dad was gone; indeed, Jeremy would not see him again. Nor would he see his balls again, he was told, as a nurse quickly and efficiently castrated Jeremy while he reclined, rather numb in body and spirit, curiously watching it happen, as unconcerned as the drug in his body could allow. She was done in 8 minutes, with not a drop of blood spilled; laser surgery with bio-fill glue made healing virtually instant. After she put the tube of glue down, she had him roll over on his side and injected the hormone that would cause his bones to fuse on the ends within 6 months, a healthy, non lifespan-reducing method that effective stopped the very cute boys’ growth. Certainly not all kids brought to the Group Home got this injection, but Mr. Davidsons’ instructions were specific and she was bound to follow them. She certainly understood why; Jeremy was one of the cutest boys she had enrolled since becoming an employee of the Home. She finished up, taking the dazed but calm boy to his room. Private, for now. Untill he was made comfortable with what would happen.
They knew he only liked boys, was un-interested in adult men, within a day. There were no fancy nanobots, mysterious rayguns, or synthetic, drug-induced brainwashing here; just long, well-directed talks with enthusiastic father-figures and big-brother-like men extremely well trained in coersive psychotherapy. Drugs, yes, but not for much more than ensuring the subjects were relaxed and happy. It took longer to get Jeremy interested in being cuddled by adult men, and longer still before he was eventually happy to perform sex with them, but he was well on his way within a few days.
And, yes, he was happy; the Group Home was a fun place, full of games, net-viewers, and a ton of new friends. Within a week, he was in a larger bedroom with four other boys. And, indeed, he could do whatever he wanted, sexually, with any of them, if they wanted. In the beginning, he felt his confinement; they never left the Home in any kind of normal outing, although he knew some of the others who had been there for over a month or two would be absent frequently; however while they never talked about what they did ‘outside’ with Jeremy (he knew they did talk about it amongst themselves, though), they seemed to enjoy it, and he was having his suspicions of what they did.
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Three months later, Jeremy had his own first outing. He was told he was going to visit an upper Caste man; he would be taken to a nice home and spend some time with him. By this time, Jeremy was automatically snuggling up with any man who worked at the centre; being affectionate and cute earned him all sorts of things, like outings to ride horses at the Group Home directors’ house, extra snacks, time in the hot-tub normally reserved for staff. He had lost interest in masturbation; he had never done it much, yet, but the interest seemed to somehow disappear a month or so ago. Nor did he remember having an erection in ages; the staff, though, told him this was fine, and with half the kids in the Home ball-less, nobody bothered him about what he was missing. It was pretty cool to never have to worry about hurting them, he had to admit, and curious boys or men were always trying to see if they could coax a boner out of him. He liked that! It felt nice, and he didn’t really understand why the boys with balls thought that the same actions felt so much better, just because they could get hard.
The only part he really disliked at all still was the one other surgery they did to him on his third week. They had done something to his butt; it felt all kind of weak back there ever since. He could hold his bowels, but sometimes it did seem like he was only just making it to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if it was the sessions with the butt-plug he was having a few times a week or the surgery itself, but it didn’t hurt when they put things up there, although it didn’t really feel that good, either. But, never mind. They told him it was just training, that he would learn to not mind at all when men would play with him back there, and besides, he got a personal netviewer all his own when he took his training like a good boy. Darn few of the other kids had one of THOSE! Not even realizing he would have blushed furiously at doing so four months before, he proudly told his friends in the Home how he earned the viewer, delighting in their obvious jealousy. Suckers!
Mr. Davidson, the man who he went to visit on his first outing, was pretty cool, he decided. Kinda wierd, but nice. He was a real cuddler, it turned out, spending hours just touching him all over, petting him really; Jeremy loved the attention and reacted as well as he could, now being quite well trained to seek the appreciation of the men around him. He had never known before that upper Caste men could be gay; who would’ve known? But some were, it turned out, and Mr. Davidson turned out to really like boys like Jeremy. Even his feet; the man had played with just them for practically a whole hour! Jeremy giggled throughout the assualt.
He was a bit suprised when Mr. Davidson fucked him, though. None of the staff at the Home had done that, although they had said it would happen, eventually. He was cool with that, and Mr. Davidsons’ penis was certainly no bigger than the rubber things the staff members pushed into his bum so many times since that surgery. The man had sat on the couch, with Jeremy sitting on his lap, both facing the netviewer which was showing a crackling fire, as if there was wood burning in the set; never having seen a fire in a home, it seemed silly to Jeremy, who sat on the lap, being bounced by the man who seemed to constantly play with his tight scrotal skin while fucking the boy. Jeremy could tell he seemed to like the fact he had no balls. He wondered why, and whether or not it was this mans’ fault that they were gone.
Afterwards, he continued to just cuddle with Mr. Davidson, who seemed to explore every inch of him, obviously infatuated with him. He gave Jeremy a new pair of shoes, making a point of saying that they were the same size as he arrived at the Home wearing, and how he would never need a bigger size. Bullshit, thought Jeremy. All kids feet grow at my age, don’t they?
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Jeremy met a fair number of other men by the time he reached adulthood. By then he knew that it was perfectly OK for an upper Caste to be gay; they could be anything they wanted; as long as their businesses or governmental concessions were successfull, at least. Upon reaching age 18, the boy, now officially a man, still looked at most 12 or 13 years old, obviously not ready to enter the work-force. The GovMen who ran the Group Home knew he would be usable in the same way he had been thus far; they made sure he was moved into an adult Group Home that had the right clients to use him for as long as possible.