Sister's New Job

It hadn't been a good summer for the sister, probably not a good year, and some might say not even a good lifetime. The sister was forty-five years-old and out of work. She'd just lost her job, and in Minnesota, come winter, there wouldn't be much available. Then while leafing through the classifieds, she saw:

House Mother Wanted
A loving, caring, person is needed to care for 22 boys in a small, off campus, fraternity house. No cooking or cleaning required, but that person will need attend to all their other needs.

All their other needs? Sister wondered what that might entail, but as long as she didn't have to cook or clean, it couldn't be too bad -- and caring for twenty-two young boys? What could be better than that? She decided to apply for the job.

The sister arrived on time for her two o'clock job interview. She had on her best red habit. She was -- after all -- a charter member of the Order of Sisters of Perpetual Responsibility. Well, OK, she was the only member of the order. Actually, she was the order; but, still, she took her vows seriously.

When she walked into the office, she could see that her appearance had taken the interviewer aback The sign on his desk said, Mr. Slughorn. "I didn't realize you were a nun," Mr. Slughorn said. "I'm not certain this job will be appropriate for a nun."

"Who better to care for your boys?" asked the sister, "than a nun. I can care for more than just their bodies."

"That may be so, Sister, but we're looking for someone to take care of their uh --" Mr. Slughorn hesitated, his face turning almost as red as the sister's habit, "you see, Sister," he continued, we're looking for someone to take care of their sexual needs. Boys their age wake up horny and can't concentrate on their school work, if all they're thinking about is sex. We're looking for someone to take the edge off for them, so to speak."

The sister was almost speechless, but not for the reason Slughorn thought. She thought she'd died and gone to Heaven. They were looking for someone to sexually satisfy a bunch of horny teenagers. The sister would have paid for such a job, and here they were talking about paying her to do it. She had applied for the job just hoping for an occasional glimpse of a well formed buttocks and possibly the sight of a cock now and then, but Mr. Slughorn was offering her more than that -- much more.

"Sister, I don't think this job would be suitable for one of your religious persuasion." Slughorn stood, holding out his hand, apparently indicating that the interview was over.

The sister sat where she was. She wasn't about to leave. "My particular religion," she said, "has no proscriptions against sex. No -- none -- none at all. You see. I'm not Catholic. I belong to the Sisters of Perpetual Responsibility. It's all about taking responsibility, not really about God at all, especially not about an uptight god. No -- no -- nothing in my religion against sex. I'll be glad to do anything, just as long as I'm able to help these boys get off to a good start in life. Now, what will you want me to do?" The sister licked her lips in anticipation.

"Well, if you're certain. School has already started, and already several of our boys are at risk for bad grades because they're going to school horny."

"Tell me. Please tell me." The sister wanted to hear him describe her duties to see it they could possibly match what she was imagining.

"If a boy is in a hurry," said Slughorn, "he might just want you to whack him off. Do you think you could do that?"

"Some might want to give you a good old fashioned ass fucking. Do you think you could handle that?"

The sister panted, quick shallow, pants. She was afraid she was going to faint, but couldn't, not before she signed the contract. "I could handle that," she said.

Slughorn took some papers out of his desk, turned them around, shoving across the desk to the sister, "If you'll just sign right --" He paused, looking more closely at the sister's face. "Are you a man, Sister?"

"We can't hire a man for this job," Slughorn said. "We can't hire anyone that might penetrate one of the boys. Just imagine what the parents of our boys might say, if they learned that the hired help was fucking one of their sons."

"Yes," said the sister, "I haven't had any balls for years. I can't fuck anyone." That wasn't strictly true. The sister didn't have any balls; that was true enough, but she had been taking testosterone shots. She had a hard-on beneath her robes at that very moment.

"I suppose it would be all right, then," said Slughorn, "but I'll have to see first. You'll have to show me."

"If you'll just let me run to the bathroom first," said the sister. "I have a girdle on. I'll need to slip out of it." The sister didn't have a girdle on, but she did need to get rid of her hard-on. It wouldn't do to show Slughorn a hard cock.

Sister ran to the bathroom, whacked off into the sink then went back to Slughorn's office. Once there, she raised up her robes, then raised her once again limp cock, showing Slughorn the empty ball sack beneath it. Slughorn poked at her sack to make certain no balls were hiding in it, then satisfied, said, "You are a eunuch, at that. I guess you'll do. Can you start tomorrow?"

The sister was to start work at 5:00 AM. By 4:00 AM, she was already parked out front of the frat house in her car, looking at her watch every five minutes, eagerly waiting for 5:00 to arrive. When she walked into the house, another of the workers, an elderly women that supervised the others, handed her a list. These are the ones that get up at 5:30," she said. "You'll need to wake them, then take care of them. Tommy Jones," she pointed to the first name on the list, "is a problem. Sometimes it takes more than once for him. The other two, Ricky Harris and Ronald Williams, shouldn't be any trouble, though. Usually once is enough for them.

Tommy was still asleep, just a sheet over him. His boner was making a tent of the sheet. From the size of the tent, his cock had to be at least eight inches long. Leaning over Tommy's bed, the sister shook his shoulder. "Time to get up, Tommy."

Tommy frowned, rubbing his eyes with both hands before opening them. When he did open them, he seemed bewildered at first, seeing the sister standing over him in her red habit. Then he said, smiling, the look of confusion disappearing, "You're the new mother, aren't you?"

"Yes," said the sister, her voice husky with excitement. Tommy wasn't the only one with an erection.

Tommy flung back the sheet. "Take care of that, will you?" He was naked beneath the sheet; and his cock was closer to nine inches long than eight.

"A blow job would be nice. Do you think you can handle it?" A smirk appeared on Tommy's face.

"Oh, I can handle it," said the sister. She crawled onto the bed between Tommy's legs, took his cock first in her hands, then into her mouth. It was so big that she could only swallow about half of it, but she went to work on it, nonetheless. It wasn't long before Tommy was thrusting with his hips and shooting hot spunk onto the back of her throat. She swallowed every last drop of it.

"That was great," said Tommy. "Come back after you wake the others. I think I'm gonna want another one."

The sister went next to Ricky Harris' room. He was still asleep. Instead of awakening him first, the sister pulled back his covers, exposing his hard cock. Of course, it was hard. All boys his age awake with a hard cock. The sister crawled between Ricky's legs, took his cock into her mouth and began sucking it. Ricky didn't wake up until he climaxed. Later he said, after the sister had introduced herself, "That was fantastic, Sister. Wake me up everyday that way."

Ronald was already up by the time the sister reached his room. She had tarried to give Ricky another blow job, and the second one had taken longer than the first. "Just a quick hand job, if you will, Sister," said Ronny, after she had introduced herself. I have to study for an exam.

The sister whacked him off, letting him shoot all over her face. It was an extra touch. Ronny liked it.

It took two more blow jobs to satisfy Tommy, when she got back to him. Not only the horniest, he had the biggest cock of the three. Ricky had about six and a half inches, and Ronny's barely made five inches when hard. It was a cute little thing, though.

By the time the day was over, the sister had delivered sixteen blow jobs, twelve hand jobs, and had been ass fucked five times. The job included room and board, but the sister swallowed so much teenage spunk that she wasn't hungry for lunch. The evenings were hers. If the boys needed relief then, they had to provide it for themselves.

Most soon learned, though, that the sister didn't mind working off the clock. Ronny found out something else about the sister that none of the others knew. The sister was a eunuch, but she had a hard cock. Ronny was a frequent visitor to the sister's room at night, but he was taking it up the ass, not the sister. He liked it that way, because then he could come without even touching his cock. They were the best orgasms he'd ever had.

Ronny was in the sister's room one night. The sister had just finished pounding Ronny's ass, and Ronny had ejaculated all over his stomach. As the good sister reached for a roll of paper towels she kept on a table beside the bed for just such occasions, when Ronny needed to clean himself, Ronny said, "You know, of course, Sister, there's no one in the world I hold in higher regard than you. I want to be just like you. How can I join your Order?"

The sister hesitated, knowing that joining her order wasn't a decision to be taken lightly. "Ronny," she said, "you're a sweet boy, and I love you dearly, but it takes real commitment to join our Order. We're exclusive." They were exclusive all right. The sister was the only member.

"I'm committed," said Ronny. "I'll do whatever I need to do to join. What do I have to do?"

While they talked, the sister wiped Ronny's spunk off his stomach. She tossed the used paper towels on the floor, then reached down, cupping Ronny's balls with her hand. "First," she said, "You have to give these up."

"Yes," said the sister, certain that Ronny would no longer want to join, "none of us sisters have them. The first thing you have to do to join is to get rid of your balls."

Well, that was that. Ronny wouldn't want to join now. The sister wasn't certain what she would have done, had he insisted on joining anyway. No one had ever asked to join before. Besides if he joined, how could she then hide that she was the only member?

"I'll get my balls cut off. I'll do it first thing tomorrow. I'll go to the student medical center and ask the doctor to cut off my balls."

"You'd really do that?" ask the sister. "You'd really have your balls cut off to join my Order."

"If that's what it takes, I will. I don't plan to have children; anyway, so what do I need them for? You don't have any, and you do fine without them."

Ronny had definitely put the sister to the test. He might just do it. She detected no mirth in his voice. He certainly sounded serious. She knew what she should do. She should tell Ronny that there was no Order, or at least, that she was the only member. He wouldn't want to join then, would he?

But then, he'd know she was nothing but a fraud, just an old, ball-less, queer in drag. She didn't think she could stand that. All the boys looked up to her. There were even others, besides Ronny, she could fuck, if she tried, the ones that liked for her to stick her finger up their hole when she beat them off. She was certain that some of them would like more than a finger stuck up their ass. Ronny liked it so much that he needed nothing else.

Maybe she wouldn't have to tell him she was the only member of the order. The headquarters are in California, she could tell him. He would believe that. Everything kinky started in California, anyway. Yes, when you prove yourself, I'll take you back to meet the others in the Order. It just might work; and she did like Ronny. He was such a sweet boy that he would make a good sister.

Then -- with a flash of insight -- the sister had a revelation: maybe this was her purpose in life. Maybe this was why she'd become the Red Nun in the first place. Most of these boys would be better off without their balls. Sex only caused most of them grief. She had already improved the grade average of the house by over three quarters of a point by keeping the boys' minds off their cocks, so they'd be able to study. Slughorn had even complemented her on the excellent job she was doing.

Just think what these boys could accomplish, if they didn't think about sex at all. Of course, that would mean that they couldn't use testosterone as she did. She wished she could give it up, but, at forty-five, it was too late for her to give up sex entirely. With her, sex was an addiction and, like an old junkie, she couldn't do without it, especially now that she had access to all these beautiful young boys. It would be like putting a starving kid in a candy store and telling him he couldn't eat anything. No, it was too late for her -- but not for the boys. Think of all the pain and suffering they'd avoid by not having balls.

"All right, Ronny, if that's what you want, I'll go to the medical center with you. We'll see that you get your castration."

"Would you, Sister? I'd really appreciate that. They probably don't get too many requests for castrations."

They didn't. Ronny was the first they'd ever had. He had difficulty convincing them that's what he really wanted.

"Oh, you want to be circumcised?" replied the nurse. "Is your foreskin causing you problems, or do you just want to get rid of it? In either case, I think you've made a good decision. You'll find it easier to keep your penis clean, if you don't have a foreskin." Then, with a wink, she added, "I think a penis looks better without a hood myself."

"No," said Ronny, "I'll keep my foreskin, it's my balls I want to get rid of. I want a castration, not a circumcision."

The nurse's mouth dropped, "You -- you want your balls cut off? Are you certain?"

"Yes," said Ronny, "I'm certain. Do you think I could have it done this morning?"

"I -- I don't know if we do castrations," answered the nurse. "I don't think we've ever done one before. I'll have to ask doctor."

The nurse disappeared into the back, to return a moment later. "You'll have to discuss this with the doctor. He'll see you now."

"Can Sister K. come with me?" asked Ronny. She's our house mother. I'd like to have her along while I talk to the doc."

The nurse showed Sister K. and Ronny to the doctor's office. Once they had entered and were sitting in front of his desk, the doctor, an old man that looked as though he should have retired years before -- they didn't have the sharpest of doctors at the college medical center -- said, "What's this about a castration? Don't you mean circumcision? I do those all the time. Why, I could snip off your foreskin in a jiffy. It'd be over before you know it."

"No," said Ronny, his frustration showing in his voice, "I was to be castrated, not circumcised. I like having a foreskin. It's my balls I want to get rid of."

"Well," said the doctor, "I don't know whether we're allowed to do castrations. I'll have to check the list. We have a list of prohibited procedures. If it's on the list, I won't be able to do it."

Taking a book out of his desk, the doctor turned to the index, looking first under C and then under O. Neither Castrations or Orchiectomies were listed. "It's not a proscribed procedure," he said, "so I guess I could do it, but are you sure? If I cut off your balls, you won't be able to have children."

"That's all right," said Ronny. "I don't want children, anyway. When can you do it."

"Right now, if you're certain that's what you want, but you'll have to sign forms releasing me and the college from all responsibility, if you later change your mind. You are eighteen, aren't you? I'd have to have a parent's permission, if you're not eighteen."

"Well," said the doctor, then come in the back and I'll whack those babies off for you."

"I suppose," said the doctor, "but she'll have to wear a mask. We can't have any of those nasty old germs getting in there and causing an infection."

They went into the back. The doctor had Ronny take off his clothes, then lie down on a surgical table. A different nurse came in, washed off Ronny's crotch and the inner parts of his legs, then shaved him, removing his pubic hair and the hair off the upper part of his legs. After the local anesthetic took effect, the doctor picked up a scalpel. "It's not too late to change your mind. Are you certain you want me to do it."

The doctor made an incision on one side of his ball sack, squeezed his sack until one of his balls popped out, tied off the cords, then snipped it off, dropping it in a bowl the sister held for him. Another cut, another snip, and Ronny was a eunuch, just like the sister. "We'd like to save these," said the sister.

Just like that; it was over. Ronny had no balls, and sister had gained her first acolyte, the first of many, she hoped.

Ronny healed quickly. Sister had a red habit made for him, and like her, he wore nothing else. From then on, he was called Sister R. Although he continued his studies, he took a part time job at he house helping out Sister K. It did cut into the ass fucking the sister got, though. Most of the boys preferred Ronny's ass to hers. Still, they all agreed she gave the best blow jobs.

Before the year was up, four more boys, joining the Order, had their balls cut off. None of them took testosterone, not even Ronny, so most of them lost all interest in sex, just as the sister had hoped. Even without desire, they became quite proficient at easing other boys sexual tensions. Soon, every fraternity house on campus had at least one sister working for it.

Before long, the Order spread to other campuses, not only in Minnesota, but across the nation. Every frat house that had a sister working for it out performed the others.

As must as she hated to, Sister K. had to quit her job at the frat house to manage the Order. After a while, she even left that to others, acting as the titular head, the Mother Superior of the order.

She missed the old days at the frat house, remembering them fondly, but she still got plenty sex, breaking in the new acolytes. They needed to be taught the tricks of the trade, and who better to teach them, but the good sister.

One room of her headquarters -- in Minnesota, not California -- was lined with shelves, rows upon rows of shelves. On each shelf sat little bottles, each holding the balls of one of the sisters -- hundreds of shelves, thousand of bottles. A stone plinth rose from the floor in the center of the room. Enclosed in a case on its top was another bottle containing two balls, older than all the rest, the good sister's balls. She'd saved them from when she'd been castrated.

As the years passed, the Order expanded, worrying the Catholics. Some said it might some day surpass that religion in numbers. The sister grew older, retiring even from breaking in new acolytes, although she was known to take out her teeth and give an occasional blow job. She was renown throughout the world. No one doubted that, after her death, she would be nominated for sainthood.