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The Engagement Gift Prologue “Well, what do think?” I asked, displaying my prominent erection. “It is a little small.......” she replied hesitantly. It was probably only 4 inches, even fully engorged. “Its Ok.....” she said, gazing passionately into my eyes. “I like it, “ she added, gripping the base tightly while tickling the shaft with her other hand. My body responded and her efforts were rewarded with the largest most turgid erection I could muster. A drop of precum oozed from the end and I throbbed painfully within her iron grasp. “It must have hurt so much ...” she hissed, her voice trailing off. “Yes, of course, but it was wonderful as well,” I replied somewhat hoarsely, my throat dry from excitement. ____________________________________________ No, I hadn’t been born with such a small prick. My modification was the result of a sexual tryst I had allowed myself during one of many travels to the Middle East. I had sacrificed part of the shaft and the bulbous purple head of which I’d always been so proud to one of the raven-haired locals. I met my cutter by word of mouth. “A whore who devours men,” was how she was initially advertised, a title which immediately aroused my dark desires. “Really?” I virtually squeaked, and then remembered that I should hide my rather obvious enthusiasm in this dark little corner of the world, at least until I found myself in more private circumstances. Sure that I had found a likely candidate, I generously tipped my “guide” and followed him into the night, grateful that the darkness obscured the huge bulge in my trousers as he led me towards a small mud brick house. Patting me hard on the back, he then shoved me through the doorway and muttered something like, “Hope you get what you deserve, American!” before disappearing quickly into the night. Naive westerner that I was, it seemed that I had been thrust into some kind of shed, a tiny outbuilding of a brothel perhaps. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light within however, it soon became apparent even to a pampered aryan such as myself that this was indeed someone’s home. Suddenly I was aware of another in the room, and reacted with a bit of a start. No more than five feet away from me sat a relatively small figure covered from head to toe in black, their humanity virtually obscured by the swaths of ebony material. With unsettling silence the figure rose, swiftly gilding across the hard dirt floor and shut the somewhat irregular wooden door behind me. It then flitted quickly to one window and then another, closing the primitive shutters to the world outside. Once isolated from the street, my host shed the layers of dark fabric with surprising efficiency, abruptly revealing a very attractive and scantily clad Arabian female. She stood roughly 5’ 3” and would have been considered plump by western standards, about 130 pounds I thought. Her wide, flaring hips and heavy bosom only added to her appeal. I’d always had a weakness for voluptuous women. Her face was equally pleasing, framed by long curly, black hair she looked vaguely like a Semitic Kathy Ireland. She wasted no time removing her sheer linen undies and I was soon treated to an unobstructed view of her ample charms. I felt my dick jump in my pants as I gazed at the forest of downy black fur between her plump thighs. Yes, a real whore! A good Muslim girl would have been clean-shaven, so I was most grateful that my rude host had no such pretensions. She stared intently into my eyes, and I found myself strangely defensive as though she was probing my very soul. There was a heat, a veritable furnace behind those hazel eyes of hers I’d never seen in the west. It was positively ferrule, and I worried that she might be too much for me. Fortunately lust won over and I found that my desire for her sex was stronger than any misgivings I might have had. Nearly invisible moments before in her long black burka, she was utterly brazen now. She strode over to me, hips swaying; a wicked smile on her lips crooked to one side, and gripped my genitals, hard. A little too hard really, but I wasn't complaining. “Yalla!” she barked with impudence and licked my lips with her hot velveteen tongue. It seemed she wanted me to get on with it, although I was uncertain of just what she had said. I rapidly disrobed, almost loosing my balance as I struggled to remove my socks. She laughed loudly and in a way that left little doubt she was as disdainful of me as she was amused. Once nude my hard-on jutted out almost painfully from body, visibly throbbing and leaking precum from the massive purple head. Her hand was instantly all about my shaft caressing it with grace I would have never guessed she was capable of. Suddenly she dropped down into a full squat so that she was eye level with my throbbing prick. For a moment she seemed pleased, but then realized I was uncircumcised and made a face as though she’d come across a rotten egg. “Yackiessss!” she hissed in a half whisper. Fortunately she overcame her disappointment soon enough and quickly engulfed my aching head in her sultry mouth. Her tongue twirled about my swollen dickhead ferreting its way under the foreskin and driving me wild. For all her supposed revulsion she seemed to know her way about an uncut member very well. Soon I was fucking her face and moaning louder than I should have been given the neighborhood, but my hostess appeared unconcerned and so I continued unabated. Her ability was considerable; she was better than most western whores I’d had. Her tongue was perfect as it slathered about my shaft and head, constantly twirling and snaking around the diameter. It was as if I had inserted my penis in a device rather than a living female. Sensing that I was about to blow my load, she sucked her way back off my shaft, releasing my rod with a wet pop as the big head slipped passed her satiny lips. As though scripted, she spun around and hopped up on her crude bed, her generous ass pointing skyward. Her big olive skinned cheeks beckoned me, as did the forest of black pubic hair nestled between. I could just make out the glistening lips of her entrance whilst I stood stroking myself, hypnotized by her gorgeous rear. “YALLA!” she barked angrily this time, actually pounding her fist on the hard mattress and staring back at me, death was in her eyes. That was enough to bring me out my pussy induced stupor and I did as she commanded, coming up close behind her. She didn’t wait for me to do what I might but instead grabbed my poor cock like it was a handle of some sort and shoved inside her. Again I was unnerved by her manner but the heat and tightness of her cunt made me very forgiving. I began to pound her hard making her primitive bed creak and groan as though it might collapse at any moment. For the first time she showed evidence of real pleasure, beginning to yelp and coo as I plowed her humid tunnel. I felt her muscles clutch my dick in that certain way, letting me know I was giving her a proper fucking. For someone so dominant her voice was uncharacteristically high and breathy, not uncommon among Ishmaeli females, but I found it fascinating nevertheless. It was possessed of a peculiar quality in keeping with the theme of her entire being, somehow managing to be violent, menacing and coy all at once. Listening to her hiss and yelp like an animal beneath me as I pumped inside of her brought me near climax once again. Just as I felt I would shoot, she stopped cold and spun around to face me. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my purple dickhead pointing towards her neck, she gingerly gripped my shaft whilst looking into my eyes. “On my breast, yes? Then I give you what you deserve!” I was surprised to hear English at all, but was thrilled she was able to command me and seemed to know what I wanted. “Ohhhh yeahhhhh!” I groaned, my head back as she slowly jerked me. I felt the come boiling in my nuts and rising swiftly up my thick shaft as she pumped. Suddenly she leaned forward, her soft, curly hair brushing against my thighs. Carefully she pulled back the foreskin exposing my head and ever so gently ran the very tip of her tongue along the entrance to my urethra. I began to shudder and an instant later exploded violently on her face and tits. Wave after wave of shear ecstasy shook my body as my prick ejaculated volley after volley of thick warm sperm. At long last my orgasm began to subside as the last drops oozed from my prick, my muscles still relaxing and contracting. All the while she hadn’t said a word, and as I looked down at her sperm coated face she seemed devoid of any emotion whatsoever. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I was satisfied. She hadn’t followed through with the entire service but she had provided one of the best fucks of my life. Before I opened my eyes again I felt a sharp and intense pain in the shaft of my dick. Quickly I looked down and was greeted with the horrific sight of my hostess cutting away at the shaft of my still dripping penis with what looked like a scalpel. She was already half way through, and in an instant she had succeeded in removing nearly two inches of my penis. “Sharmoota!!” she yelled up at me, and rubbed the tip of my own severed penis all over my chest, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Her expression was bizarre, a perfect mixture of murderous hate and glee. I cried out in shear terror, this is what I had wanted, but the reality of it was distinctly unpleasant. I felt my legs giving way and tried to reach out for the demoness, but she sprung out of the way like a little animal, yelling yet more obscenities. I lost conciseness soon afterwards and remember nothing until the hospital. It looked as though I was in a public room filled with other patients. I guessed I must have been full of anesthetic from the fog in my mind and the blurred vision. Sometime later an attendant paid a visit. “Too bad she didn’t take it all,” he said flatly, staring at me hatefully. “Muslim women are for Muslim man,” he added. “She should have taken it all and left your balls hanging! Then you would have time to think!” I was too drugged to really care and was glad when he left. ____________________________________________________________________
Epilogue About a week later I was released and made my way quickly back to the States. I was careful not to excite myself to the point of no return during the month of recovery which lay ahead, but once I was given a green light by my physician, the first thing I did was admire my denuded manhood in the full-length mirror of my bedroom. I instantly grew hard as a rock gazing upon the throbbing stump between my legs. Overwhelmed with the need to masturbate, I stroked my new penis furiously, attempting to achieve quick relief. Instead I found that my cock was not as responsive as it once was. It took nearly 30 minutes for me to come, but what a geyser it was! I don't think I’ve ever come so much in my life. As stimulated as I was it wasn't long before I was horny again and called Susan. Luckily she was free and we made a date for that night. After a nice dinner and a few glasses of wine she was relaxed enough for sex. I knew she shared my unusual tastes when it came to sexual sport and there was little question in my mind that she would love my new cock. “Wonderful, eh?” she said, a coy grin on her lips. “Yes it is,” she added quite seriously. Susan encouraged me to lay back and positioned herself between my legs, kneeling with her feet tucked underneath her. It was clear what she had in mind and I began to moan even before her hot mouth descended onto my aching stump. The sight of my cut dick going in and out of her mouth was exquisite. I was sure I would cum soon. To my surprise she suddenly suspended her efforts for a moment. “Maybe I should take these from you!” she said, gripping my balls tightly whilst looking up at me wearing an evil little smile. At that I exploded all over her cheek and neck much to her delight. “Mmmm,” Susan purred, as she lay next to me in the afterglow, her head resting on my shoulder. “I think we should get married!” she whispered, tracing her fingers over my chest, playing with the little black hairs she loved so much. Who was I to stand in the way of a woman’s desires? End
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