In 638 AD the Muslims captured Jerusalem after a long siege. Captured warriors and their sons and male relatives were castrated and sold into slavery.

In 2009 a terrorist cell is inspired by their ancestors and re-introduces the use of castration and forced feminization rather than killings in order to spread terror. The modern attack is on a military museum on Veterans’ day. Caught in the trap are middle school children.

Part 2: Days four to eight of the siege of the Military Museum. The poor boys lives are changing forever.

Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. This is pure fiction.

The Military Museum Men’s room: 7:54 am Day four

David was puking into the toilet bowl. He didn’t know why. His stomach was simply nauseous. Very little came up because he had eaten so little. And David wasn’t the only one. It seemed that several of the boys were having the same problem. It had to be something in those nuggets they ate last night. Way to go FBI. Make them puke.

As David exited the men’s room Tariq spoke with him. Being comforting he asked if David would like something for the nausea. A simple shot would help calm his problems. Not knowing what to do David agreed. As did other sick boys.

Taking two minutes each sick boy was taken to a side break room and given a shot. Unlike any shot David had ever had this one was huge. And instead of being delivered into his arm or his butt, they put half of it into each nipple. The pain was horrible and David cried.

The hormones that were injected into him were highly experimental. Developed in a lab in Thailand this shot was specifically designed to induce rapid breast growth in boys being feminized. The synthetic hormone cocktail would begin showing results in as little as two days. It also had extremely small capsules which would continue to be effective for up to four more months. These small capsules would be impossible to remove as they spread out into the body lodging on fatty tissue and muscles. A final ingredient of diluted heroin would hide the pain and assist the victim acceptance of his, or rather her changing body. With the testosterone almost completely shut off from his elasticized balls, David’s transition was assured.

Taking a red marker Tariq drew a small red line vertically on David’s white jersey. Tariq smiled knowing that his part in this terror campaign would have long lasting affects beyond just the shock of killing a few kids. No he was killing this child’s children. He had taken this one’s manhood forever away. After all, who could be happy as a woman, or an abomination of a male changed into a woman?

The tears streaming down David’s cheeks excited Tariq. His pants began to tent but he restrained himself. Perhaps later he could use one of the young virgins to assist in his excitement. He would ask permission of Aadil.

After returning the newly drugged boys to the grand ball room, Tariq and the guards began a plan to get the remaining boys drugged. By the end of the day they should all have the red stripe to indicate that their breast were on the fast path to growth.

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The Military Museum Curator’s Office: Noon Day Four.

Aadil picked up the phone and asked for Special Agent in Charge Anders.

“Why haven’t our men been released from Guantanamo Agent Anders? I have been watching the news and see that nothing has been announce. You do not want to test our resolve.” It was but another move in the chess game. Buy time. Aadil knew that no terrorist in prison would be released. The move was to keep his enemy focused on anything other than what he was doing to the boys under his control and to buy time. The elastration of the boys needed up to 10 days. Most of the balls would begin to fall off as early as day 7. The breast should begin showing visibly by that time too.

“We are sorry for the delay. These things take time. We have to coordinate with many agencies, the military, our allies. Please be patient. We are working on it.” Replied Agent Anders believing that he had successfully sold the lie. Hoping anyway. The FBI was convinced that if they could delay and slow everything down they could wear the terrorist down and eventually rescue all the hostages.

Aadil was planning for delay, he needed time. Anders was stalling for delay, he wanted time.

“While we are waiting, is there anything else we can do to help? Do the hostages need anything?”

“We have consumed all the food. Please send more. Do not try any tricks.”

“Understood, but if we send food, my superiors will want something in return. Could you release some hostages for the food? Maybe 10, that would show your good faith and that you are working with us.”

“Do not insult me. I will not give you 10 and weaken my position. But to show good faith I will give you four girls. Next time you insult me I will ensure that the released girls bear a special gift just for you. Something you will get a bang out of. Have the food ready at 2:30.” Before Anders could reply Aadil hung up.

Anders looked at his team. “Well that was encouraging. We get 4 more and there seems to be a willingness to release more in the future.”

“Boss, what do you think he meant when he said that there would be a special gift just for you? Is that confirmation that they have explosives?” asked agent Billi James-Smith.

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The Military Museum Grand Ball Room: 6:30 pm Day Four.

Four more girls had been released once the food was delivered. Once again it was the youngest, smallest girls. Aadil thought that this would play well on the news station. He had watched as the parents of one of the earlier girls had spoken on CNN. He felt that the news coverage was going well.

His men moved the pizzas into the center of the ball room and walked up to the microphone.

“Your attention please.” He had it, everyone was already watching him. He also knew that by this time the FBI would have figured out a way to be listening too. Maybe even watching.

“We will be removing your hand restraints and leaving them off. For this we only ask that you keep your hands visible at all times. Do not attempt to touch your private parts. Be respectful and we will be respectful to you. Defy us, in any way, and you will not like the results. Keep quiet. No conversations. Please line up, boys on their side, girls on their side for the meal that we have arranged for you. Do not be greedy. Two slices each, no more.”

As people shuffled to the beginning of the line their flex cuffs were removed and they were allowed to get their food.

Taylor sat down, not knowing who she was sitting near due to the damn burka. While the girls ate hungrily she noticed that the boys were eating slowly. She could see Timmy and David from her seat. They should be starving. What was happening to them? Come to think of it, both of them looked green. But at least they were eating. That would give them strength, and maybe hope.

Aadil watched. The next phases would be crucial. After lunch he would order the ball room dividers to be put up. This would further separate the boys from the girls. It would also allow him some greater flexibility to continue with feminizing the boys. The girls would remain tokens for him to extract his terror.

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The Military Museum Grand Ball Room: 10 am Day Five.

Timmy couldn’t get comfortable. His chest hurt. His stomach was queasy. He felt weak. Gently, slowly he reached up to feel his forehead. A fever? Maybe. He felt like crying and rubbed his face. It surprised him that he was crying already. His face was wet. He put his head down and that is when he noticed it. His chest looked swollen. He crossed his arms and gently felt his chest. Finding it squishy he tried to think what was happening. He definitely wasn’t doing well. When would they get out of there?

Ashamed of his crying he wiped his face and slowly glance around. Most of the boys were crying now. All of the boys now had a red vertical stripe on their white jerseys. David and John were sitting about 10 feet away. They were crying quietly too.

David was trembling with uncertainty. He didn’t feel like he could look his friends. Not being able to talk to anyone built the feelings of isolation. Weakness seemed to be consuming his body. He couldn’t remember but he thought he was supposed to be playing football today. Did his parents or team even care? The weakness must be due to the meager food he had been getting. At this point he didn’t feel he could run even if he wanted to. The shackles on his feet ensured that he could only take small steps anyway.

The new divider made his world seem smaller. The only adults in his room were the terrorist guards, who rotated out with regular frequency. They seemed so strong, so in control, so commanding.

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The Military Museum Exhibit Room 3: 7:30 pm Day Five.

David was brought into the Exhibit part of the museum by Tariq. Sitting behind a table in the center of the room was one of the terrorist, but not in his usual outfit. Wearing a traditional Arabian robe with his head covered with a red and white cloth. David didn’t dare look him in the eye. He kept his eyes lowered and hands crossed nervously in front of himself.

“Your Name?” David answered. The man wrote.

“Your Address?” David answered. The man wrote.

“Father’s Name?” David answered. The man wrote.

“Mother’s Name?” David answered. The man wrote.

“Phone Numbers?” David answered. The man wrote.

“Father’s email address?” David answered. The man wrote.

“Mother’s email address?” David answered. The man wrote.

After a dozen other personal and family questions the man looked up and put down his pen.

“You are very pretty.” David had been conditioned to answer but didn’t know what to say. He nervously pushed his hair out of his eyes and somewhat behind his ears. Guessing at a correct response David meekly, nervously squeaked out a quiet “thank you” not realizing how feminine his mannerism had appeared.

The man stood and walked over to a couch that had been positioned to the side of the room.

“Do you see me? Before we release you or any of your friends we want you to fully understand what a man should look like.” David quickly glanced at his stance, his clothes, he noticed a curved dagger stuck in his belt.

“Remove your dress.” David immediately obeyed and took off his jersey. It wasn’t a dress, but he guessed that the foreigner just didn’t know the right word.

“Take a look at yourself. You don’t look anything like me, a man, a warrior. Women wear dresses like yours. Women have large nipples like yours. Women have breast. Women serve men. Just like you obey and serve me. Men are strong, we have balls. We are able to be in control. Do you believe that I am a true man?”

“Yes sir” David squeaked. With downcast eyes David could see some of what he was saying was true. It did look like he had breast. His nipples were larger than he remembered. David didn’t look, or feel strong.

The terrorist sat on the couch and said “Kneel in front of me.” David quickly complied.

The terrorist opened his robe exposing his large cock. “This is what a man looks like. Do you look like this?”

“No sir.”

“Correct. It looks like your balls could fall off any moment. They are swollen and purple. They look sickly. You must be a girl. You look like one, small breast, slender, submissive. Move closer and touch me.” David shuffled forward and meekly touched the man’s privates, which immediately began to swell. “You must be a girl. Only a girl could make it grow like that. Now kiss it to show me proper respect.”

Trembling, David shook his head which was immediately followed by a massive slap. “Do as I say girl. Kiss my cock to show me proper respect.” Crying David leaned forward and quickly pecked it.

Reaching out the man grabbed the hair and back of David’s head. “That’s a good start. But girls should obey immediately. Now show me your proper place and suck me now.” He pulled David’s head into his lap. David opened his mouth to cry put but found it immediately filled with cock. Shifting his grip to David’s ears he began to fuck David’s mouth. Struggling for breath David let the man control him. After about two minutes the man started to tense up.

“I am about to cum. You are to swallow it all. Do not soil me with your sloppiness girl.” David obeyed, he had little choice.

“Good girl. Now lick me clean then you can leave.” Feeling humiliated, degraded, and with no power David wept and obeyed.

“Leave your dress girl. You will be supplied with another in a few minutes.”

Another guard entered the room and escorted David out. But instead of heading back to the ball room they went into another exhibit. A long table was setup with Tariq and two other guards standing by.

Tariq said “Lie on the table girl.” David climbed up on the table. One guard placed a pad of some sort under his bottom causing his private area to be pushed up in the air. The guards grabbed his arms while Tariq moved beside him. Reaching down Tariq grabbed his penis and shoved a thick needle through the head. Anticipating a scream the guards had shoved a towel over his mouth to prevent others hearing him. Working quickly Tariq inserted a self-locking ring though the head. A moment later another ring was attached to his body between his rapidly failing scrotum and his ass. The two rings were interlocked forcing the penis to be permanently tucked back until the rings were cut off.

“There you go girl. From now on you must sit to pee like all girls. Now thank me and your guards and pick up your new dress on the side table.” Weakly David stood and shuffled over to the table. Instead of jerseys this time there were silky red teddies with spaghetti straps and lace. David picked up one and put it on.

The guards then took David back to the Grand Ball room, but this time they put a hood over his head and flex cuffed him again.

The boys who saw David’s entrance thought one of the girls coming into their portion of the ball room.

One by one each of the boys were taken back. Everyone submitted eventually. Some had to be encouraged with a beating. But all sucked cock, were pierced, and were called girls.

Brady was the last to go. He also put up the biggest fight, but he eventually submitted. During his fight he was brutally beaten. He had a broken rib on his lower left side. He had bruises across the back of his legs and buttocks. His virginity had been taken forcefully by two guards. For all his fight, he still was forced to suck off one of the guards, and still had been pierced. When he was dragged back into the ball room cum was leaking down his legs.

The hoods were removed after all the new girls were back in the room. But the cuffs were left on.

Throughout the night the new girls whimpered, and cried.

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FBI Command Center outside the Military Museum: 9:00 am Day 6.

The tactical team leader had a solid plan. His scans and listening devices showed that they could breach the side walls of the grand ball room and rescue the hostages. Most of the guards were in the main entry hall and on the roof. They could be taken out quickly. Snipers from the FBI and on loan from the nearby base would ensure that the roof top guards were dropped fast and simultaneously.

Agent in charge Anders, with the support of his superiors decided to prepare but to keep waiting. So far none of the hostages had been harmed, or at least as far as they could tell. It seemed like this bunch of terrorist had limited their hostage terror at forcing the girls to wear burkas and a lecture on proper dress according to their interpretation of the Quran.

More importantly every day they were getting some out. With lunch today he would have rescued 16 children. That was almost 10%. Not bad for a keep waiting scenario.

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The Military Museum Sub Basement: 6:30 pm Day 6.

Four of the guards worked quickly and quietly along the western well. They moved old storage boxes out of the way seeking the tunnel. It was here, or at least within 10 feet of here according to Aadil’s information. All that time to plan and prepare was about to pay off.

For almost a year a tunnel specialist from Pakistan had worked to connect the abandoned storm sewer line to this wall. The abandoned sewer ran almost two miles and was a 4 meter tube. It had been replaced by newer lines when a road expansion had covered this particular abandoned line. The city had decided to cover it with the road figuring that filling it in was a waste of money. The hand dug tunnel found the museum wall just two weeks ago. Being careful they had slowly dug through the sub basement wall and found that the new tunnel’s entrance was blocked by boxes.

Aadil’s commander had found a reference to this abandoned tunnel in an old newspaper letter to the editor. His imagination led him to research the location. Finding the line took time and Allah was smiling. The line passed within 400 meters of the museum. Yes they could have an exit if Allah continued to bless the assault.

After ten minutes the tunnel entrance was uncovered. Waiting inside was the only female member of the team. She was dressed in black and had several bags with her. Najla stepped inside, and stretched. The wait had been almost two hours.

Her talents would help this cause, and she wouldn’t even need to wear an explosive vest, like her brother had in Iraq.

Three hours later she was fully setup in the exhibition hall waiting for her first customer. The new girls would be getting their next treatments at her well trained hand.

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The Military Museum Exhibition Hall: 11:00 am Day 7.

David had been watching his classmates leave one by one for the last four hours. They would again return with hoods over their heads. Each moment caused the knots in his stomach to tighten. Timmy and Brady had already left and returned. At least he thought they had returned. His fear grew. And each time one returned and he was left behind he felt guilt for being glad they hadn’t chosen him.

But this time they did. “Follow me girl.” The guard ordered. He didn’t dare disobey. Walking was more difficult than before. The pressure of walking on his balls was causing him pain. His penis hurt from the rough piercing. His leg shackles still prevented him from taking a normal stride. With some experimentation he found that if he threw his hip forward a bit the irritation on his privates was alleviated.

Aadil chuckled as David walked by. This one was walking like a girl now.

“Lay down on the table please.” Ordered Najla. David did as he was ordered but wondered where this woman had come from. He hadn’t seen her in his days since being captured.

“Roll on you side.” As he complied he felt another shot going into his butt. This shot contained a sedative and another burst of long lasting hormones.

The quick acting sedative had him really drowsy in a few moments. Najla went to work as soon as he relaxed. She examined her face. Every girl needs to have a focal point, something that is the best feature. For some it is the eyes, others lips, other still a cute nose. The art of making a girl beautiful is making the most of what they have naturally.

Looking at David she decided his blue eyes were her best feature. He may not like what she was about to do but SHE would appreciate this work in the future. Or at least HER man would appreciate it.

Reaching into her case she bought out her tools. First she worked on his eyebrows. They needed to be shaped and thinned. No girl would be caught dead with bushy brows like he had. Taking her time to do it right she achieved a stylish and very feminine look. They weren’t a silly flowing arch. She had used that look on a few of the others but not for this one. David now sported a soft angled shape, thicker near the nose and tapering into a fine thin line. Very pretty.

Stepping back she considered her work. David’s eye brows were blonde like his hair. They didn’t show from too far away. So next she grabbed some hair dye and darkened them.

Without hesitation she put the brow tools away and grabbed a very fine tattoo kit. Not too much but just enough permanent eye liner would make his, or rather her eyes always pop. The new girl could always add more eyeliner in the future, but this would guarantee that she couldn’t be mistaken for a boy ever again.

Using the same tool she added a small dot on each ear lobe. It looked like a piercing hole. A small feminization step but the hope was that they would use a future piercing to cover it up. That would be a step in feminization chosen by this young infidel. And by choosing on their own feminization step they would own the change and hence own the gender.

Using tattoo ink close to David’s lip color she enhanced the Cupid ’s bow on his lip. Another small step but one that would mark this face as feminine. Of the faces she had dealt with today, this was her favorite. Taking a moment she took a photo. This one should be preserved for later.

Najla nodded to the nearest guard. “You can tag this one now while I prepare her ankle.” The guard prepared a small gun like device. He pressed it against the base of David’s big toe and pulled the trigger. A micro tracking chip, similar to what is used to track pets, was inserted into her soft tissue. This would allow her to be identified later in life. Even though they were leaving these eunuchs behind, one day one would want them back. It was tradition to make your enemies into eunuch slaves.

Najla had turned on the special light and donned special glasses. These would allow her to see the ultraviolet ink she was now using to secretly mark the feminized boy. Taking David’s left inner ankle, she placed a small special symbol indicated that this eunuch was the property the Brotherhood.

As a final step she lifted David’s teddy. First she cleaned the wounds around the piercing with antiseptic. Secondly she examined the elastrated scrotum. The swollen purple was starting to be replaced with a grey pallor and indicated that the balls were already dead. They would fall away soon.

David was hooded and returned to the ball room.

Over the course of the day Najla worked on the boys. By 11:30 she was exhausted but done.

Due to the facial feminization exercise none of the boys had been allowed to eat today. The remaining girls received sandwiches courtesy of the four girls who had been set free. None of the girls had seen the boys for a couple of days now.

There were now only 41 genetic girls left.

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The Military Museum Women’s Bathroom: 11:00 am Day 8.

David, John and Timmy were back together for the first time since the takedown on Veteran’s day. They looked at each other not believing that the girl they were with had ever been a boy. Each looked like a chick. The breast had now all grown slightly past the A cup size. Hips had started to develop. But the faces were clearly girls. They appeared more like their friends’ sisters then the boys who had sat discussing football a little over a week ago.

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The Military Museum Curator’s Office: 12:20 pm Day 8.

Aadil was arguing on the phone with Agent Anders about the lack of progress of Guantanamo prisoner releases when Najla came running in. Annoyed Aadil looked up ready to be angry but something in her demeanor gave him pause to reconsider the snap that was about to come out. She smiled and handed him a small felt jewelry bag. He had been anticipating this.

“I am not pleased with your lack of progress. Redouble your efforts before I grow angry.” He said as he slammed the phone down.

It was all show as he tried to keep it slow. Keep them from attacking. Win time to complete the feminization and cover his retreat out the tunnel.

With glee he slowly he opened the bag and poured the contents onto the desk in front of him. Out rolled the first pair of testes. Grey, Lifeless, Dead.

“Whose?”

“Brady Ford.”

“Ah yes. Military family. Get me his answers. I believe his father is an officer in their infantry and has fought on our holy lands.”

Najla replied. “Yes. They fell off as I was wiping his piercings with antiseptic. He was beaten and kicked in the groin several times. He is still suffering from that. He didn’t realize what happened. I asked about his pain and he said he was feeling better down there.”

“Good. Then he can be the first to the next phase. Please proceed.”

She returned to the Exhibition Hall and spoke to Brady.

“Stand girl. Remove your dress.” He slid off the table and did so.

Najla then walked over to one of the boxes and retrieved a short A-line skirt and a small overbust corset. Slowly she dressed Brady in the new attire. The corset was severe. She pulled on the laces harder and harder. His broken rib allowed for more constriction. Stepping back Najla enjoyed the look. Taking her hair brush she made his short mop look a little feminine.

For the first time Brady had his shackles removed.

“Sit on that chair, but when you do, make sure you smooth your skirt first so as not to wrinkle it. Keep your knees together. Sit like a lady.” Najla made him do this three times until she was satisfied with his performance. Then she went over and opened another box. She pulled out a pair of red high heel platform shoes. The heel was 4 inches high and narrow. She placed them onto Brady’s feet and proceeded to use small padlocks to lock them onto Brady’s feet.

“Girl now you need to practice walking back and forth for me. It takes time to walk in heels.

Najla walked Brady back and forth a few times with her giving some pointers.

“Swing your hips more.”

“Take smaller steps.”

“Hips girl, hips”

“Now sit, smooth your skirt. Sit straight.”

“Stand girl. Legs only. Now walk down and back again.”

After ten minutes Najla had Brady sit down again. Taking her hands she took her hand and painted her nails. This completed the picture. There was absolutely nothing visible that gave any indication that Brady had ever been a girl.

“OK girl, you may return to your room with the guards. Don’t touch your wet nails. If you mess them up you will get a chance to pleasure one of the men.”

Brady was crying as he slowly sashayed into the room with his hands held out so as to not touch anything. Not that he was trying to be feminine, he just couldn’t help it. The combination of heels, breast, and corset made it impossible for him not to be feminine. There was no doubt that he looked like a young woman with his breast lifted by the corset, skirt, and heels. As he sat he smoothed his skirt under him and crossed his legs. Fearfully he realized he may have messed his nails and quickly checked them. Whew… he smiled. At least he didn’t mess them up.

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The Girl’s Side of the Ball Room Office: 9:45 pm Day 8.

Taylor lay down wondering what was going on with the boys. They hadn’t been seen for four days. What was going on with them? They hadn’t looked good when she last saw them. Glancing around she whispered to the shape beside her.

The guard heard her walked over and kicked her.

“No Talking. If you need to use your mouth I have something better for you to use it on.”

The mere threat of being abused shut her up.

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Thanks for reading part two of my three part tale. This story is purely fiction. Thanks for all of you who sent me your thoughts and feedback on part one.

Any constructive thoughts are appreciated.

Hugs,
Judy