Double Cut

At age 14 I was invited to my first BDSM scene involving my friend and his 15 year old girlfriend. I watched Jeff whip her pussy with a rope soaked in brine and dried to a crystalline stiffness; Kathy’s screams of pain seemed to turn to whimpers of pleasure as the salt imbued the slight cuts on her vagina. My sexual relationships were sometimes as normal as Ken and Barbie; but sometimes I would find a girl who suggestively joked about spanking her. Of course this would unleash the full dark, carnal creativity that had lain dormant in me and these maidens would submit to the most incredible scenes of pain and pleasure at my knowing hands. They always wanted more scenes, more pain. I must be good at it and it helps that I really care about women and their pleasure, but in the end I really did have my best climaxes with these rare and bound volunteer “victims” wriggling beneath me. It gave me a macho thrill to know that I was psychologically ruining them for all lovers who would come after me, corrupting them with alligator clips, hot wax, ice cubes and whips, spoiling them with the most passionate and tender lovemaking.

Over a series of online chats I admitted to Jen that ever since my father was castrated in the hospital to halt the spread of prostate cancer, I have dwelled on it. The fantasy has remained ever since I was young however I’d never admitted it to anyone. Jen had done some extreme ball torture and even attended a real cutting at the invitation of her friend, a female cutter. At first I don’t think she took me seriously, but she hung in there, we both did. Having experimented twice with lesbianism, she was starting to really gain a sense of herself. Jen’s confidence developed. She confessed that it was her fantasy to eat the testicles of a man that she castrated. First she wanted to fuck him to the point of exhaustion so that he would be too weary and happy to object. She promised to put my sack in a champagne cooler and cuddle me after the cutting, while her friend sewed me up. She told me I wouldn’t even feel it, just a little tugging and the knife right at the point of climax, then she would kiss and hold me until I rested. I figured why not, I can still get the girls if I use testosterone supplements and might not die of prostate cancer like my old man. I agreed.

Yet something held her back. I got from her the sense that I had to “sweeten the deal.” I found another female, Amy, located far away and as equally lovely as Jen. Amy was an avowed lesbian toying with having her clitoris removed. Amy has jet black hair and blue eyes, also petite; the sort of girl for whom a man would change religions. It was difficult to remain cool in all of this. My goal became to put those two together with me, and so I did. We agreed to meet and, if everything went well we would write down the script and stick to it through the weekend.

The date was set: New Year’s Eve. I used my frequent flyer miles and made all the flight arrangements. It was to occur quickly. We gathered in a restaurant on a Friday. It was tense, but I broke the ice with some drinks and a game of pool. The jukebox ground out our common favorites and the three of us loosened up. Back in my hotel room with wine and pot and tequila, I watched as those two got to know each other. Eventually I couldn’t take it and approached the bed. Jen invited me to lick her asshole, which I did feverishly. She was shaved so clean and tasted wonderful. I stole a few licks of her feet and legs which she didn’t mind, and at one point she did grab my cock and moaned when she realized the size of it. Amy pushed me aside and using her fingers and tongue brought Jen to several climaxes. Amy wouldn’t let me touch her which I found exceedingly frustrating; she is truly gorgeous. I tried to touch her but she shot me a cold expression. I held Jen and played with her little breasts as Amy worked her over and over. I never got to cum but it was great anyway. The three of us slept in the king-sized bed, although I didn’t get much sleep. I decided not to masturbate, that I would save myself for Jen.

After breakfast and showers we decided to spend the day planning and prepping, all three of us organized and methodical people. We decided that at noon Sunday, Jen and I together would bring Amy to orgasm; this came as a revelation to me since I figured Amy wanted nothing at all to do with my masculine touch. She didn’t want me kissing her or tasting her but yes! She wanted cock, fine with me. The plan was to bind Amy within an upturned coffee table in my hotel suite, her hands tied behind her head and her legs tied wide apart, using all four upturned legs of the table. I was to penetrate her anus without cumming. Jen would tongue her to several orgasms then wipe down her clit with Betadine and clamp her while she was at her swollen peak of excitement. Both Jen and I would use sterile razorblades each of us allowed six cuts. It would be harmonized artwork. On the sixth cut and not before … Amy’s button will come off at the root. Amy was a bit apprehensive, for sure. But she knew it would happen eventually, this fulfillment of her fantasy, and she liked us, trusted us. We were all strangers, it was surreal how the tendrils of trust bound us. Not that it matters but the intoxicating scent of pussy was strong in that room, not sure whose.

My fate: at noon Monday after a night of convalescing for Amy, and for me and Jen much intense sex, Jen with Amy’s assistance would remove my scrotum and its contents during the last few waves of my orgasm. Amy would use her tongue and a strap-on on Jen’s anus while Jen rode me. I would be splayed and restrained the same as Amy was. In all of this we agreed on one point, very important point: Jen would bind our hands at 9:00 PM sharp. If we wanted to back out it would need to occur before 9:00. If we were still there at 9:01, then it was a done deal. No safe word, no threat, no plea bargain would change the written plan.

We spent an hour in the jacuzzi. Spreading towels on the bathroom floor, Amy shaved Jen from the neck down. I had to watch and it was painful: all I wanted to do was fuck them both royally. Jen motioned to me and the two of us shaved Amy. I’d never shaved an anus before, it was great, Amy is so tight and cute. I keep my cock and balls very clean shaven, but Jen wanted me hairless from the neck down. Amy held down my hands as Jen worked my forearms, underarms, chest, stomach, groin, anus, legs, even toes. I was like a little boy, so smooth. Amy left the bathroom and Jen stood over me admiring her handiwork. I really think she liked me. I saw something in her countenance, like, “Why should I nut this guy, he’s like … perfect!” But she kicked my balls and I coughed and grabbed my nuts. It’s as though she knew I was reading her thoughts and wanted to send a clear message. I know she has a boyfriend. What she wanted from me was something he couldn’t give her nor would she want him to.

After dinner and a few tokes and shots, Jen worked Amy with everything she had. The two of them went at each other like nothing I had ever seen nor imagined. I left the bedroom momentarily to go to the bathroom; when I returned, Amy’s hand were bound in front of her with purple satiny ribbons. I watched her try to break free, testing her bonds, but she was caught tight. Jen used the strap-on, and Amy screamed so loudly I had to gag her with a washcloth for fear of being ejected from the hotel. Jen reached down and stroked Amy’s clit, but I snuck over, brushed aside Jen’s hand and replaced it with my own, my fingers so patiently circling, teasing, slowly then faster, more insistent. Amy launched into an orgasm of epic proportions; my hand was drenched. Absently I sniffed and licked my fingers for the rest of the night, so desperate for more of her. She didn’t learn until days later that it was I who delivered her most powerful orgasm.

I ordered a steak: Jen allowed Amy no breakfast except a beer, an apple and a bit of cheese. One touch-up shaving lead Jen to give Amy an enema followed by a shower and a bath. Jen forbade me from the shower however invited me into the bathtub. Amy’s breathing was rapid, she appeared somewhat pale. I knew she was frightened and wondered if on the morrow I would be the same. I massaged her scalp with shampoo as Jen rubbed a bar of soap beneath the water all over Amy’s pale, tight body. I wasn’t hard but I was excited. This poor girl I would soon impale with nearly 8 inches of urgent cock, then slice off her only pleasure button. As I watched Jen soap her I wondered if Amy would cum when the blade first sliced her most sensitive flesh. Would she cum after several slices, releasing endorphins and providing some anesthesia for the final cut? Or would she not cum at all, and those five minutes would turn into hours of pain exploding in her.

After gently patting Amy dry and hanging a hotel terry robe about her shoulders, Jen lead Amy to the living room of the suite. Amy stumbled once, perhaps because her hands were bound. But she was nervous. I saw her pulling back from Jen, trying to resist this march. The room was dark except for dozens of Jen’s red candles; a sliver of late morning light penetrated a crack in the curtains. The coffee table was already upside down and draped with a bedspread and towels and a pillow. A silver tray covered by a single towel sat on the floor beside the coffee table. Together Jen and I fixed Amy into position. I gagged her again, but this time with Jen’s used panties per Jen first taking a whiff of them myself. Amy was squirming like nothing I’ve seen, but the silken ropes held her splayed wide and vulnerable and utterly immobile. Her head thrashed. “Come on, get it up!” she barked at me. With a few strokes from my own hand I brought myself to full staff. “Stick it her ass gently,” she commanded. Amy’s head thrashed from side to side, I could see by her eyes that she wasn’t ready, was having second thoughts. Jen gave me a look and so I positioned the head of my cock at Amy’s puckered little anus and started throwing my weight into it. Amazing her little butt accepted me in less than a minute, and I am not small. I noticed that her hands clasped, her toes curled. “Fuck her good,” Jen said, and so I slammed it home. I’m not really into anal, but this tight little girl’s ass felt something like buttered velvet, like a thousand silk fists. Jen reached behind me and squeezed my balls giving me a little wink: that bitch. It was all I could do not to cum. I was so built up, days with no relief, and Amy was about the prettiest little girl a guy could want, blue eyes gazing up at me, freakishly pretty. Cannot believe she is lesbian, but who cares, I was inside her ass.

Jen clamped her so deftly and flung the towel from the little silver tray exposing the blades. Amy jerked violently as Jen and I grasped the blades. I started cutting on command, my cock still deeply imbedded in her ass. Amy screamed into Jen’s wadded panties. Jen cut, gazing up at me grinning a little, a lusty sparkle in her deep brown eyes. I so knew at that moment that I wanted her to eat my balls. Together we carved away Amy’s sexual response organ, her only frivolous organ. The blood actually was light due to the clamp. Amy convulsed within her bonds. Later we learned that it was the most significant, most heady, powerful orgasm of her life. I wasn’t sure at the time, it could have been pure agony … but she came and came and came. Jen was the one to life off her clitoris. Amy’s sphincter closed around my cock and I nearly came, but Jen smacked my face and said, “Save it!” It took everything within my power to save it. Amy looked and smelled and felt wonderful, and it was especially goading me to climax to see her clit dangling in Jen’s manicured fingers. I was banished to my bedroom when Jen’s cutter friend entered the living room to do the clean-up to Amy.

I scratched my smooth balls with my hands bound in front of me. I slept between them. Either way I turned I smelled their hair. I was at peace. Tomorrow I would lose my balls right as I send my seed spurting into the pussy or mouth of the most incredibly alluring woman I have ever met: Jen. Sweet sweet Jen.

I was allowed cheese, an apple and some OJ. The enemas cleaned me. Amy was morose but evidently aroused, following Jen’s every move with her eyes as she reclined on the sofa with her finger inside her robe. It was 10:00 A.M. when Jen took me to the bathroom. The minor stubble on me she shaved clean, then she lead me to the jacuzzi. She asked me if I really wanted her to nut me. “Do you want to, Jen?” She nodded. I nodded.

She lead me to the same table, nothing had changed. The bloodstained bedspread was undisturbed. I started to resist, but Jen grabbed my hard cock and balls and literally dragged me into position. Amy arose from the sofa, so pale and pretty, and assisted in binding me. My legs were spread wide. My cock was as limp as overcooked pasta. Jen snapped two Elastrator bands onto me which took my breath away: one low trapping my balls at the very bottom of my scrotum, another up close to my torse – leaving a section of my flesh about the diameter of a pencil between the two bands. For the first time ever, Jen french kissed me, grabbing my cock and balls hard. Instantly my body responded. I was not to be limp again for the morning. For the next hour she humped my face, sucked my cock, bit my balls, fingered my ass, used her strap-on while squeezing the clear juice out of me. My balls swelled and started to ache, turn purple in the glimpses I saw. But it felt good somehow. Jen whipped away the towel covering the tray: in the tray was a curved little knife with a gut hook, the kind hunters use, gleaming and scary. My cock jumped.

Amy reclined, watching. Jen said, “Amy, I want you to ride him while I get thing ready.” Amy groaned. I remained silent. I wanted Amy so badly. At times I was ready to scream hoping a maid or neighbor would rescue me and I think Jen sensed it: she lit a joint and made me take a few pulls. I fell silent. Amy tilted my head and allowed me to drink fruit juice from a straw. I was in heaven. Amy opened the robe revealing her pale, perfect little smooth body. The cutter had sewn her up nice and neat, and somehow with Jen’s urgings she actually sat down on my pole. Amy’s little breasts started to heave up and down and she rode me. Jen had her hands all over Amy. Ironically after a few minutes, Amy climaxed, her tight little pussy contracting around me. Jen had the sense to bark, “Do NOT cum!” to me and somehow I did not. I don’t know how I didn’t. Amy was like a wounded angel. I wanted so badly to fill her. But this was Jen’s perogative. I held back. Jen faced away from me, sitting down on my cock. Amy held me against her bosom, wiping my face with a warm washcloth. Jen rode me: I saw her anus and vagina so clearly, and her face as she turned to the left side gasping for air.

“Cum!” she ordered, riding me hard. That was the defining moment of my life. Briefly I glanced at Amy and she nodded, those hypnotic blue eyes. I bucked my hips but the restraints prevented movement. I passed the point of no return. In waves of the most intense pleasure I have ever felt, my body unloaded into Jen’s dark, insistent vortex. Wave after exquisite wave of blinding white light. I cried out into Amy’s stomach. I felt cold liquid wiped onto my scrotum. As promised it didn’t hurt. Jen positioned the guthook against that little midsection of tightly bound scrotal flesh and gave a quick tug. My sack came off easily, nearly painlessly. I was still cumming. Jen turned that I could see her pretty face, then I looked again at beautiful Amy. As Jen dropped my sack into the bucket of ice I passed out. I have no recollection of the cutter fixing me up down there. I awoke between them, the stench of my boiled balls filling the little suite. I wasn't awake long before unconsciousness found me again.

In the next two days we all made love several times. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I never saw either of them again, although I wish Jen would break the ice and get in touch.