Zoro's Nullification Station

The Chief pulled up to the country house, his bike sputtering to a stop, and walked it into the garage to his spot, right near the front.  "Ahh," he stretched his thick arms up over his head, then dismounted.  Done with business for the day - time for a beer.  He stomped up into the MC's clubhouse, looking around the beat-up living room.  Jethro and Lemmy were in the kitchen, the younger 'roid-biker sitting nude in a chair with an icepack over his crotch, and Lemmy standing over him holding a power drill.  

"Hail, Chief," Jethro muttered respectfully when he saw the Chief come in, but didn't move.

"Hail," Lemmy gave him a perfunctory nod, then went back to positioning the power drill.  The Chief ignored Lemmy's rudeness for now; he wasn't in the mood to bust his second's chops.  The big biker hadn't made any secret of gunning for the Chief's position, and everybody knew he'd have it pretty soon - the Chief was slowing down and he knew it.  Pretty soon Lemmy would be bigger than the Chief, if he wasn't already, and once he was, he'd challenge the Chief, win, and take over the MC.

The Chief walked over to the fridge to pack up the juice he'd come back with and pull out a cold beer.  As he was loading the vials into the fridge, he noticed some little jars of green fluid on the table, one labelled "Jethro."  He picked it up, seeing what he soon recognized as a pair of testicles floating inside!  That explained the icepack Jethro held over his crotch.  "You lose a bet, Jethro?" the Chief asked, putting the little jar back.

"Naw," Jethro answered, looking and sounding like he was real stoned on something.  He'd been with the gang for two years, now, and while barely of drinking age, he was over 200 pounds and had a nice baby 'roid-gut going already.  He kinda sat there limply, staring ahead with his eyes unfocused while Lemmy marked little X's on his temples.  "Lemmy had a talk with me.  I don't want there t'be no trouble 'tween us, an' it ain't like I'm havin' kids."  

"Hold still, boy," Lemmy grumbled, the huge musclebiker squeezing Jethro's shoulder with one of his big mitts, positioning the drill with his other.  The tool suctioned itself to Lemmy's temple and positioned the bit at just the angle right for doing minor brain surgery.  "I'll have your balls in a jar pretty soon, too, Chief, but for now, don't you need to work out?"  The Chief did, of course...the beer could wait.  "Now, let's get you lobed," Lemmy grinned to Jethro, holding his head still with one hand and squeezing the trigger on the drill with the other.

"Yessir, I'm a good chicken blue truck bus..." Jethro trailed off, the drill buried a few inches deep in his forebrain.  His eyes lost focus, his jaw hung slack and he started to drool.  Lemmy flicked the drill direction the other way and pulled the trigger again, spinning it back out of Jethro's head.  A little bit of blood spurted out, which he sprayed down with the coagulant and slapped a band-aid over.  "Goo...goo..  Good b,b,b,boy," Jethro grinned stupidly, the drool dripping from his mouth.  "Me...good biker boy," he said again, seeming very pleased with himself.

The Chief just chuckled and rolled his eyes, then went downstairs to the basement gym.  He stripped down and took swigs off his brew as he pounded the weights.  He wondered how much it had hurt when Lemmy put the drill into Jethro's brain.  "I could probably use a lobotomy, too," he chuckled to himself.  It could be kinda cool, just being a mindless, stupid beast.  He imagined himself one often enough, especially when working out.

While doing his squats in the basement, he heard a few more guys come in.  An hour or so later he emerged from the basement, nude, sweaty, and pumped.  It had been Rick and Drake who'd come in, and the Chief shook his head when he saw the two of them sitting on the couch with band-aids on the their left temples.  "Hail, Chief," they looked up at him, languidly and masturbating even with icepacks under their freshly emptied sacs.  The Chief glanced over to the kitchen counter, where he now saw three jars with balls floating in them.

He got his vials out of the freezer and took his time shooting juice into his ass.  The Chief felt his cock harden as he did, like he could feel the strength from the juice running into his veins, to his muscles, pumping them up bigger and harder.  "Yeah," he grinned, feeling the last shot go in and his cock totally hard.  He swaggered back over to the pair on the couch.  "Rick, blow me," the Chief pointed to his rock-hard boner, "an' Drake, work on the other end," he slapped his own ass.

They just sat there for a minute, drooling and staring at him, before the words registered in their freshly-limited minds.  "Okay," they both nodded, moving into position.  The Chief grinned, looking down at Rick slobbering his knob, feeling Drake licking all the mansweat out of his crack, and flexing his thick arms and pecs as he did.  Big body, big dick, big man, he thought to himself.

"Hey, Chief, how 'bout you relax while they work there?" he heard Lemmy's voice from behind him.  "Just sit back on the couch, here," he felt his second's big mitts on his shoulders, gently pushing downward.  The Chief let them pull him back a bit, then slowly sank down onto the couch.  Drake got on his knees on the floor, pushing the Chief's big thighs up to keep working on his ass, while Rick sat next to him and bent over, continuing to suckle at his cock.

"Just lean back," Lemmy's hands pulled his head back to rest on the couch.  

"You're gonna cut my balls off an' lobe me, too, ain't ya?" the Chief chuckled a little.  He knew what was about to happen, but Rick and Drake were doing a good job at keeping him from needing to think about it too much.

"Yeah, Chief, I am," Lemmy answered firmly.

"S'okay, it's time," the Chief nodded.  "I ain't gonna put up a fight."

"That's why it's time," Lemmy nodded, peering intently at the (former?) Chief's face.  You've been too easy on the boys; I'm gonna really whip 'em inta shape.  You too, long as you're still with us."

"Good...good for you," The big man just lay there with a big grin on his face while Lemmy draw a pair of little X's over his temples.  "Alright, Chief, just hold still," Lemmy said, pulling the trigger on the drill...

The next thing the he knew, he was laying on his back, his legs spread, Lemmy down there doing something.  "Huh-huh," he giggled through his drool, and lifted the two little testicles off his chest.  "Lemmy take Chief's balls.  Tiny 'roid balls, huh-huh."

"Yes, they are tiny, but I'm the Chief, now," Lemmy reminded him.  "You're just some nullo," he lifted the former Chief's severed cock up a moment to show him, then went back to stitching up the former man's crotch.  Once healed there'd be no trace of his manhood, just a scar a a pisshole down between his legs.

"Right...Lemmy Chief now," he nodded.  "Me just some...nullo."