It was last March when I was given the choice of prison or castration. I never wanted to go to prison. I was very afraid of prison, so I chose castration. I remember word about me that I was going to be castrated spreading through town (like it usually does). I remember getting calls from people where I work telling me how much they looked forward to me coming back to work so they could see how I'd acted without any balls. For some people it was all about an oversexed me being made sexless. Others wanted to see the agressive me turned into docile me. There were even some who wanted to watch me being castrated, but that (thankfully) wasn't allowed. It was done in a doctors office. I knew the nurse that assisted him, but in our little town I would have know any of the nurses, so I didn't say anything. After undressing I was told to get into those stirup things like what's used for womens exams. I was given what is similar to an epidural (a nerve block shot) so I would'nt feel much pain. I was told that I would be awake the whole time, which ended up causing problems. The doctor explained to me that his instructions were to remove my testicles and to cut the nerves to my penis so that it would be made permanently numb and incapable of an erection. He asked me if I wanted to keep my scrotum or have it removed with my testicles. I couldn't think of a reason for keeping an empty scrotum so I said to remove it too. I remember him explaining to the nurse (as if I wasn't able to hear him) what the effects of the surgery would be. He said that afterwards I would be physically incapable of having sex and that instead of having normal male agressive and assertive behavior It would be the same as when a farmer castrates a hard to manage bull and turns it into a easy to manage steer. He said that just like the steer I would become timid and docile. It wasn't about the pain really, but it was a lot about shame. When I saw the scapel and scissors I instinctively resisted and I had to let them put restraints on my wrists and ankles. When it finally came down to it everything within me was saying protect, but after the restraints were put on I couldn't protect anymore. I saw the nurse watching me and it suddenly was too personal. I didn't want her there. It would have been better if I wasn't awake. I learned later that she told people what she saw, about how afraid I got, how hard I tried to get loose, and then the look on my face when I knew that I wasn't a man any more. She didn't keep her professional oath. And she did worse, instead of taking the removed parts directly to be disposed of, she stopped by a waiting room to prove to a certain few that what they wanted removed from me really was removed. . It's pretty hard on me to bump into someone in town who saw my cut off balls. Besides those people work is the hardest place for me. I had sexual harassment issues there. I had anger management issues there. And now they see big differences in me after the castration and they make sure I know it. I get told that justice was done, that I got what I deserved. I get told that they like me better since I was deballed. I get called limpdick. I get called no nuts. I get called " Our very own eunuch" "Our neutered puppy" I'm not in prison like I was afraid of, but this is just as bad in different ways.