Penectomy

author unknown

*****

My heart was still pounding as I stood by the mail box

reading for the third time the letter postmarked two days ago

from a fashionable London suburb. My mind went back to a month

ago when I answered an ad in an underground adult newspaper. The

ad had read:

"CASTRATION - Do you need it, or know someone who does? Do

you fantasize or obsess about undergoing castration at the

hands of a slim, attractive female, or the erotic knowledge

that your ability to masturbate or fornicate has been ended

forever? I may be able to help. Send detailed letter

outlining your needs. Reply to Dr Tamara H., Box 23378,

Sussex East, London 2E426."

The letter in my hands said.....

"I read your letter with great interest. Your pleas for

release from uncontrollable sexual urges to masturbate up to 12

times per day were especially touching. I have concluded that

you are an excellent candidate for castration and if you agree to

the conditions outlined below, I will accept you as my patient.

No money will change hands, the only expense will be your round

trip airfare. To you undergoing castration is the ultimate

realization of a life long sexual fantasy. To me it symbolically

represents what I will do to my unfaithful bastard of an

ex-husband when I get my hands on him.

Rest assured I am a medical doctor and board certified

surgeon. I have a well equipped surgery in my country home where

I have castrated 6 males in the last 3 years. You will be number

seven.

Your castration will be MORE than complete (penis,

testicles, and prostate gland removed with all nerves to the

bladder muscles permanently severed) will be done in two parts.

During our first meeting your entire penis will be removed. The

exact medical name for this surgical procedure is: Total

Penectomy, wherein all penile structures and muscles, both

internal as well as external are removed. Your urethral opening

will then be formed into a simple hole just above the scrotum

where your penis used to be.

You will be my house guest for the 10 day recuperation

period required following your operation. During that time your

only task will be to orally satisfy either myself or any of my

female friends who will be visiting.

After at least two years, during our second meeting I will

remove your testicles, scrotal sac and prostate gland thus

completing your sexual `execution'.

In the time following your first Penectomy you will live a

tortured life of constant sexual arousal without any possible

relief.

Also, since the muscles in your penis which controlled

urination are no longer there and bladder muscle nerves severed,

you will be incontinent and forced to wear nappies (diapers to

you Yanks) and waterproof pants 24 hours a day for the rest of

your life. In order to make your new life of uncontrolled

wetting more hygienic I will eliminate all of your genital hair.

(You will thank me for this kindness at each diaper change for

years to come).

I am certain that after two years of sexual torture without

any possible relief (you will beg me to remove your testicles and

mercifully end the production of male hormones causing your

sexual frustration. Though I will not be merciful enough to give

my ex-husband the second operation, I bear you no ill will. You

may beg me to "finish you off" after a minimum of two years.

As you can see, I do this to satisfy my own needs, not

yours, though your needs will also be fulfilled as a result.

If you agree to my terms, sign and return the enclosed

medical release. (It simply says I have advised you that the

listed surgeries are medically unnecessary and are being

performed only at your request). I will expect you to arrive in

London one fortnight from today, 15 May, 1992 on British Air

flight 11 arriving Heathrow at 6:10PM. After clearing customs,

look for a chauffeur in the terminal holding a sign bearing your

name. He will retrieve your luggage and bring you to my car

where we can get acquainted during the one hour drive to my

country home.

Most Sincerely,

(signed)

Tamara H"

That was two years ago. Two, blurry adventure filled years

ago. That day I stood by the mail box I thought my adventure was

about to begin, but now as I fly back to the states, I find that

it is just now beginning.

I thought I had a dream. It was something, unimaginable,

the ultimate kink. To live, for two years in total sexual agony,

and then, nothing. Well that was the plan and what I was

thinking when two years ago I boarded a flight to England. I

closed my eyes and leaned back in the tiny bathroom on the flight

and took hold of my swollen member and slowly, torturously

brought myself another orgasm. I had promised myself that I

would behave during the long Trans-Atlantic flight, but the

thought that I would soon be...cut off, was too overwhelming.

I felt huge in my hand, as if my penis could sense its

coming fate. My arousal was delicious, all consuming. My leg

flexed and locked and I had to focus all my will to keep from

screaming as I came and came and came. I was amazed at the

amount.

With knocking knees I made my way through customs. How dumb

I must have looked when the girl asked business or pleasure and I

couldn't quite decide.

Carried along by the crowd of tourists, I made my way out of

the gate and easily found my name, printed neatly on a sign, held

high above the crowds of happy greeters. I made my way through

and found that my chaffer was a woman. She was neatly dressed in

the classic chaffer's garb with her long black hair neatly piled

beneath her cap. She was tall, as tall as I, and had a perfectly

pleasing face complete with a perfectly pleasing smile. I could

not help but steal a glance at her long legs protruding from her

short skirt.

Her name tag read: "Greta"

But Greta spent no time with formality, not a hello, welcome

aboard, or how was your flight. She simply took up my luggage

and headed out of the terminal.

In the cool quiet of the limo, I watched as the busy streets

of London soon became the quiet fields of the country. Greta

answered my questions with only a nod and a smile and nothing

more. From the back seat, I tried to steal glances of her in the

rear view mirror. She was so perfect, so beautiful, like a store

room mannequin. She took my attentions with her gentle, perfect

smile.

Once at the mansion, Greta carried my bags to the room where

I would be staying and bowed out, still only nodding at my

questions of when I would see the Doctor, leaving me alone in the

room with nothing to do but admire the antique furnishings and

huge feather bed. The atmosphere of quiet was maddening. I was

so close to my fantasy happening that my hormones were on over

drive.

I ducked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat and

without even thinking began to masturbate with violent energy.

Soon my penis would be gone. What kind of life would I lead

without it?

I wondered if I were doing the right thing. Masturbation

had become my life, I was doing it ten, fifteen times a day.

Twenty on weekends. I had no time for girls and little interest

in any normal relationships. I was an adult and this habitual

masturbation had to stop; but cutting it off? Was that really

such a good idea?

I forced the thought from my mind as my climax neared and

let myself go. I cleaned up thinking that might very well have

been my last orgasm, ever.

As I stepped from the bathroom, there was a soft knock on my

door.

"Good Afternoon!" She said brightly, her hand out to shake

mine. "I am terribly sorry not to have met you at the airport."

She was beyond my imagination. Her face was perfect, her lips

smooth and scrumptious, her eyes bright yet piercing. "But we

have a bit of business here to tend to." She went on, either

ignoring my schoolboy crush stare or oblivious to it. "Come,

allow me to make up for it by giving you the tour."

My mouth was so dry that my words seemed to stick to my

tongue. "Of course." I mumbled dumbly. She turned and I could

only watch her hour glass figure, poorly hidden by a sterile lab

coat, hip sway down the hall. Her magnificent legs pouring from

her short skirt into towering stiletto heels.

"Since I began this program, I have not only attracted

several candidates for the procedure, but other medical

professionals. We are learning from one another at an astounding

rate and new techniques in the field occur almost daily." I

could barley hear her as my attention was drawn to her calipygian

body and the wonderment of what kind of corset she was must have

been wearing. My cock was slowly rousing, shrugging off the

effects of my earlier self gratification.

"And this," She announced, opening a door. "Is were your

procedure will occur tomorrow morning, 8 o'clock." I glanced at

the room. Tiled walls, lights, trays and a gurney. Such a

simple operating room and yet the thought brought my cock to full

attention. Soon, I would be incapable of relieving myself, my

sexual frustration locked within my body for two long years. How

would I stand it?

"Let me show you something special." She said closing the

door and stepping across the hall to open another. A man was

strapped to a bed. Naked except for a blindfold, a ball gag

strapped into his mouth and mammoth headphones over his ears.

His fists into tight balls, struggling fruitlessly against the

straps holding him to the bed. Sitting on either side of him

were two beautiful women dressed in erotic catsuits, one in

leather, the other in latex. Their puffy sweet lips suckled his

nipples as their hands roamed his body, driving him into sexual

fits.

Dr. Tamara presented him like a gameshow hostess presenting

the grand prize. "May I introduce, my husband." Dr Tamara

smiled at my look of amazement. "We found him in the States and

brought him over with a fake sweepstakes. Grand prize: All

expense paid vacation to France. Once there, it was little

trouble to kidnap him and sneak him over the channel." The

doctor pointed to the girl in latex. "It was Dr. Hiyama who

seduced him away from his girlfriend and lured him to a hotel

where we drugged him. I'm sure his girlfriend is a little

broken hearted about being dumped. Good for her, builds

character."

The doctor entered the room, pulling the sheets from the

man's body. His crotch was smooth, devoid of any hair or sexual

organs. Only a catheter ran from out of his urethra. "One of

the new techniques we developed is not only a radical or complete

penectomy, but we have also developed a technique to push the

testicles up into the body, there we can trap them in the web of

blood vessels. We call this: Indostration, reverse castration.

This is a procedure that can only be performed by two people in

the world, either myself or Dr. Olefson. This does two things.

It increases blood flow to the testicles, therefor increasing

their hormone generation, and two, makes them next to impossible

to remove." She looked down at the man with a sneer of disgust.

"There will be no relief for him. Forever." She looked up, her

expression changing to cordial host. "Another of our

breakthroughs is a small incision in the side of the body giving

us access to a gland directly above the kidney. This gland fires

off a enzyme which curtails sexual hormones. It activates right

after sex or after long term sexual denial. After two years

without sex, it is almost in constant function. It prevents the

constant building of the sex drive. We remove this gland. Not

only will he never have sexual relief again, but his sexdrive

with forever build."

She then pointed to the head phones. "Lastly, Dr. Smythe, a

hypnotist, developed this recording which continually implants

the following suggestions into his subconscious mind. 1) He is

incapable of violence, 2) Suicide in any form is unacceptable,

3) Any drugs that will control his rampaging sex drive will make

him violently sick, and lastly, 4) A little memory alteration.

He will remember ten days of sexual deviant servitude to a host

of women whom he can't quite remember, as to which at the end of

his slavery, begged them to cut off his manhood as a token of his

slavery."

The doctor looked at me, her beautiful eyes piercing through

me. "You will be programmed with the first three."

She smiled and led me out of that room and into her office.

Offering me a chair, she leaned against her desk. "Here I am

doing all of the talking. Do you have any questions? Or are you

simply overwhelmed?"

I was totally overwhelmed. Since I first read the ad in the

paper I was overwhelmed by the notion. But there in her office I

realized that although it was a wonderful fantasy, it was just

that, a fantasy.

"I...I, uh," I stammered, lost in her extreme beauty, her

charm. I was afraid she was going to be mad. I was something

brewing in my subconscious perhaps, something that now screamed

for attention before it was too late. I could not remember ever

making the decision, I just knew it was now or never. "I can't

go through with it." I said breathlessly surprised that it came

out. "I, I'm sorry, but I can't go through with it. I thought

it was what I wanted, but it isn't. I'm sorry to put you through

all this."

She looked a little disappointed and it pained me. "No,

there is no burden on me. I'm sorry you flew all the way here."

She picked up the phone. "Greta? Could you step in here?"

I felt myself relax as she wasn't mad. "I guess I just made

up my mind here and now. You know?"

She smiled warmly. "I understand. This is voluntary. Its

your choice." Greta quietly entered the room, I supposed to

drive me back to the airport to catch the next flight to the

states. "Greta? Grab him."

My mind tripped with surprise as Greta grabbed me and threw

both me and the chair to the floor. She pressed her weight

against the upturned chair, using it to easily pin me to the

floor. My pleas were ignored as I felt the doctor grab my ankle

and slide up my pant cuff. A cold swab rubbed against my leg

followed by a pinch of pain.

My cries of help weakened as the drug flowed through my

veins. Greta carried me over her shoulder back to my room where

she dropped me onto the bed. She and the doctor quickly

undressed me then secured me with straps from under the bed. The

doctor pulled a ball gag from out of her pocket and tightly

secured it into my mouth silencing my feeble cries.

She sat on the end of the bed, smiling tenderly. "This

happens on occasion. Its why I have you sign the consent waver

before you get here. You'll feel better in the morning. They

all do. I imagine that if you don't come around after the

operation, then I'll include the fourth suggestion on your

hypnotherapy. She covered my body with a blanket. "Get some

rest."

As she closed the door, the drug closed my eyes.

When I awoke, the room was dark save for a small light in

the corner. Greta sat reading a book. She looked up, setting

her book down. She came over and sat on the bed beside me. In

the dim light, I could barley make out her perfect face, her ever

present smile. Her closeness, her perfume ignited my ever

present arousal and I felt my loins stir.

Greta checked my straps and gag then she noticed the rising

tent in the blanket.

She retrieved a jar from the table and as she took her place

at the side of the bed, opened it up. She pulled the blanket

back, exposing me. She dipped her hand into the jar, then rubbed

both hands together.

Her hands felt warm and smooth against my cock as she

slowly, sensually milked me. Her face of content pleasure never

changed as she worked me up in her hand. I bucked and writhed

and fought uselessly against my bonds but it did nothing to

change Greta's methodical message. She cupped my balls and

gently rolled them about as if to remind me that they would soon

be gone. The thought raced through my mind and I felt my cock

surge as my orgasm neared.

Greta backed off, slowing her rhythm. She had all night and

planned to use it.

I was seething, salivating, foaming at the mouth. My eyes

rolled into my head as my hips rose a full foot into the air,

only restrained by the straps that held me down. It was then, as

I neared unconsciousness that she bowed her head and took me in

her mouth. Hot and steaming she slowly swallowed me like an

anaconda. She was incredible! She knew every technique of

pleasing a man. I was mad with passion, gibbering behind my gag.

Finally, mercifully she let me shoot my load down her boiling

throat.

She cleaned me off and covered me up and returned to her

book as if she had just run an errand to the corner store and not

driven a man insane. Exhausted, I fell back asleep.

Daylight steaming into the room and birds singing their song

awoke me from my deep sleep. Dr. Tamara stood by the open

window, soaking in the sun. She looked down at me, her long

hair, playfully wrestling about her shoulders. "In a few

minutes," She said stepping over. "I am going to cut off your

cock." Her smile was devilish and teasing. "And begin your

sexual execution." She stepped over, allowing her lab coat to

spread open. My eyes drew to the cleavage of her breasts, her

flat, tight stomach, her perfect navel, the wispy hair of her

mound. "You are not an unattractive man." She said, drawing

back the covers. And you have a rather handsome little cock.

Just the right size I would imagine." She looked at me. "Would

you mind if I tried it out before I cut it off? One last

hurrah?"

She waited until I nodded, then straddled me, letting her

delicate hairs tickle me, tickle her. She leaned forward,

letting her ample bosom and perky nipples rove about on my gagged

face. I felt the warmth of her womanly flesh slide across my

throbbing member. I tried to shift my hips and penetrate her but

she moved, pulling away just far enough to foil my plans. She

was going to torture me as Greta had done the night before.

Sliding her moistening lips across my agonized member, arching

her back to allow her wonderful lips to suckle my nipples. I

thrashed about in the bed as she finally, slowly eased her self

down on to me.

She was maximizing her pleasure, using my cock as a dildo.

I was wild with passion, the feeling of being inside of a woman,

surrounded by her flesh was overwhelming me. My climax surged

and she sensed it, pulling away. She pulled a condom from the

pocket of her lab coat and ripping free the wrapper she slipped

it over my throbbing member. She mounted me again, pounding

against me. She screamed as her pleasure came and I followed

seconds later.

She was shuddering as she climbed down, trying to catch her

breath. "Well, for a final tryst, I believe you got your money's

worth. I am indeed going to save your cock for my collection."

She buttoned up her lab coat and opened the door. "Greta? We're

ready."

I was wheeled into the operating room where three women,

dressed in scrub greens waited. I struggled fruitlessly, mostly

for show as the three women prepared me for my surgery. A mirror

was set up so I could watch. Dr Tamara stepped in pulling on her

mask and nodded to her associates.

They chatted as they worked. Shopping, recipes, gossip as

if they were sewing a quilt instead of cutting off a man's penis.

I watched with horrible fascination as they cut into my

anestisized flesh, clamping off the main tendon and artery,

isolating the urethra.

Dr. Tamara casually talked about our tryst moments earlier

and how she wanted my penis intact. I watched as the clamped and

stitched penis was detached from my body and placed in a steel

tray.

She did it! It was forever gone! She looked at me, gauging

my reaction of sheer terror and mercifully signaled the

anesthesiologist to put me under for the rest of the operation.

Dr. Tamara came to me again and again. My hands encircling

her firm breasts, my fingers teasing her nipples like the winding

of a wrist watch. Our orgasms, powerful, all consuming, timed

with precision. Panting, gasping, shaking our bodies writhing

together, our lips, our kisses as one.

And her hot breath whispered into my ear. "Forever."

I awoke only to find it all dreams. Wet dreams.

I was unrestrained. I tried to move but pain flashed dully

in my groin. I pulled back the sheets and opened my pajamas to

asses the damage.

"Yes it's gone." Dr. Tamara said stepping into the room

with Greta in tow. She sat on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Okay I guess. I just don't know how I'm going to make it

for two years. I've already started...you know."

She nodded. "Wet dreams are normal."

Suddenly hope sprang within me. "Can I orgasm from a wet

dream?"

She shook her head. "The ejaculations during wet dreams

come from physical stimulation. Sort of like a sleep

masturbation."

"So, that's it then." I looked up in desperation. "Doctor,

I don't think I can make it. You mentioned drugs that can

control the hormones."

"They'll make you sick." She said sympathetically.

"You mean you've already done the hypnosis?"

She nodded. "Its been three days since the operation." She

laid and affectionate hand on my arm. "I know that things look

dismal right now, but I am confident you'll manage. I would not

have selected you for the program if I thought you couldn't. Now

come, we have to get you walking."

I spent the rest of the day, hobbling about with a walker

under Dr. Tamara's guidance. By the end of the day, I was able

to get around on my own power. I found that my incontinence was

minimal and I leaked only when I sneezed or exerted myself. I

only had to wear a pad during the day and diapers at night. They

had performed my electrolysis during my "sleep" and thus

eliminated another of my worries.

At night my torment took its form. Alone in my room my

arousal was incredible. I paced the floor, did sit ups and push

ups (both of which made me leak like crazy!) and started biting

my nails. I only thanked heaven Dr. Tamara instilled non-

violence in me or I would have been punching the walls.

I awoke from my torturous wet dreams relived that I had made

it through the night. I got up and showered, changing my diaper.

When I returned to my room, Dr Tamara was there, laying clothes

out for me.

"Now for the rest of our deal. You'll being running a few

errands for me and my associates. While you're here, you'll be

expected to take on a more presentable posture."

I looked down and the dark suit on the bed. The name tag on

the jacket read: "Greta." My eyes widened as I looked across the

items, finally resting on a pair of latex gloves and a mask.

It was Greta's face.

"Get dressed." Dr Tamara commanded.

I complied, pulling the panties over my "nappies" and

slipping on the stuffed bra with a little help from the doctor.

She took up the mask, slipping it over my head, over my lips,

pushing in nostril tubes. It was skin tight. It laced from

behind and then zippered shut for a smooth appearance. A band of

heavy rubber encircled my neck and was padlocked closed from

behind. It was invisible underneath a turtle neck and I was a

prisoner of the mask until the Doctor released me.

With the gloves locked about my hands and my panty hose in

place, I slipped on the jacket as the doctor fixed my wig. I was

now Greta.

The doctor turned me around and placed a mouth piece in my

mouth. She took a key and turning it in a small hole in the

mouthpiece, clamped it down over my teeth. While I could open

and close my lips, my teeth were shackled, thus effectively

silencing me.

My first task was to drive a client to the airport. I knew

it was the former Greta, and even though he spoke no english, I

knew he wished me luck by his firm hand shake. As the former

Greta made his way up the departure ramp, I marveled at his calm

demeanor. He was eleven days into his Penectomy. I was at day

four and already going bonkers.

At the terminal, I was dreadfully apprehensive that someone

would find out and realize I was a man with a woman's mask. I

rushed out of the airport. I was horribly distracted by all the

cute women that were there that my head kept spinning about on a

swivel. In traffic, I nearly caused an accident stealing glances

at the driver across from me and not the road. How would I

explain, gaged as I was that I was an over sex male in a female

mask distracted by another driver?

Back at the house I was immediately put to task as one of

the doctors bade me to follow her. I was put on my knees, my gag

unlocked and my face thrust into her crotch.

Her womanly scent empowered me and my tongue flashed with

urgency. I tried to caress her with my hands but that only

brought a sharp retributive slap from her. I kept my hands

behind my back from then on and let my tongue do the work.

I could feel her passion and it inflamed mine. I wanted her

so badly, I wanted to take her and fuck her and release this pent

up energy within me but instead I thrusted with my face and

pleasured her with magnificent energy. When she came it was

tremendous! She was kicking and screaming and quaking like an

epileptic. She finally had to put her foot on my shoulder and

shove me away.

I waited quietly until she was able to gain enough composure

to put the gag back into my mouth and lock it. I admit that I

felt quite smug watching her trembling hands try to manipulate

the key. I had a new sense of fulfillment. I brought a woman to

a screaming climax, something I was never able to do before.

But I did it again. Several times that day in fact. Until

my tongue cramped with spasms. My final service for that day was

in the kitchen. The cook, a handsome, buxom Swede, braced

herself against the counter, one leg over my shoulder.

I was sent to my room where I was surprised to see me

standing there, or should I say, my face. Dressed as a maid,

another "Greta" laid out my night clothes of frilly lace. She

bowed and stepped out without a word. Probably gagged as I was.

The shower felt miraculous against my hairless skin and it

was some effort to clean under the mask, but I managed. I

dressed in the lace and slipped under the covers. I was

exhausted.

My dreams were wild and erotic, driving me senseless with

passion. I kept seeing Dr. Tamara coming to me as she did on the

first day and I talking her in my arms and fucking her brains out

only to awake and find myself dickless and hornier than ever.

I thought I was dreaming again as she entered my room

wearing only a silken kimono. I blinked in the dim light as she

rolled me over to my side and locked my wrists in handcuffs.

Then she slowly disrobed and slithered under the blanket with me.

Her breasts sliding up against my body she promptly drifted off

to sleep.

In the small bed I had no place to hide. I got little sleep

that night against this despicable torment. The entire night of

feeling her tight body against mine was more that any man could

endure but yet I had to.

I was rescued by the maid at the crack of dawn. She bade me

with hand gestures that I was to dress in supplied sweats and

walk about the grounds for exercise. Upon completion of that, I

showed and dressed.

Dr. Tamara watched and waited from the bed. Her magnificent

eyes following my every move, her stare burning into me. She

waved me back to bed where I was made to suckle her ample breasts

for quite some time as she explained with breathless gasps my

duties for the day. Then I was made to lick her to orgasm.

Dr. Olefson was bringing in a client for a special treatment

and I was to be on hand to assist. In the main operating theater

the client was already strapped into a special chair. His arms

pinon to his sides, his legs strapped to the legs of the chair he

was quite vulnerable. His balls were tightly bound by two cords,

each pulling opposite ways.

His head was strapped in place and a giant red ball gag

forced into his mouth. His cock was alert and ready as the

doctors, all scantily clad in different stages of leather, latex

and lace strolled into the room.

Dr. Olefson cut an extreme image in her latex catsuit and

spiny heels as she stepped forward. "Well, Howard." She

addressed him in her broken english accent. "You have come here

today to fulfill your fantasy to be castrated by a host of

beautiful women." The doctor turned and nodded to her

contemporaries. "However, I told you that I would only do this

to fulfill my fantasy and you agreed without knowing what it was.

You simply wanted to be, how you say, Nutted. My fantasy is not

so simple. Are you ready to hear my fantasy?" Howard's head

nodded against his bonds. "My fantasy is to destroy your

testicles, crush them in the sack and watch you lose

consciousness from the pain." Howard's eyes grew to the size of

plates with surprise. "Then go in and remove the debris. Then a

total penectomy. I don't like the idea of you resuming a sexual

life with hormone replacements. And because I can, I will also

surgically remove your nipples. This will leave you an

incontinent, androgynous being." The doctor smiled at the idea,

then pouted." But where is the fun in that? So to continue your

sexual torture, I will inject you with an experimental concoction

that I developed that will stimulate the underdeveloped female

hormone producing glands in your body, causing them to grow and

produce. Soon you will develop breasts and soft skin. Just as

your sexual appetite will begin to wain from your loss of

tetesterone, it will grow again from your new estrogen producing

hormones."

The doctor smiled at her savageness. "You will make a

wonderful little sex toy for some rich fag or perhaps a horny

mistress. Your ass and your tongue will be your only assets.

However, I am not so mean as to leave you on a lurch. I will

provide you with the phone number of an expert plastic surgeon

who will ask no questions, but provide you the surgery required

to allow your face to keep up with developing body." The doctor

laughed at some hidden joke. "And I will be perpetually amused

when ever I think of you. A horny little sex toy. Unable to

ever cum, but to only provide pleasure to others.

The doctor looked about, smiling at her own craftiness. She

looked down at Howard. "Are we ready to begin?" And she looked

at Howard who only trembled at his fate. He looked truly

terrified at what was about to happen, but Dr. Olefson only

smiled. With a leather wrapped finger she touched Howard's

member, throbbing and leaking pre-cum fluid. He was massively

turned on by what was about to happen. Somehow the doctor knew

that this torment was his true fantasy.

"Greta!" She called and it took a second to realize she was

talking to me. "I believe that Howard should get one last

orgasm." I anticipated this and I stepped forward. What I

didn't anticipate was the doctor to cuff my hands behind my back

and remove the gag from my mouth. The thought of sucking off

another man was revolting, but I was too afraid not to. I

dropped to my knees, inching closer to his throbbing member. I

could smell his aroma and my own over sexed drives kicked in. I

was inflamed! I licked the pre-cum ooze from his cock and

savored the taste. I felt the smoothness of his penis against

the inside of my mouth as I suckled him gently.

I took my time as the doctors prepared their torments behind

me. With a little work I able to deep throat him without

chocking. Soon Howard was twitching and screaming into his gag

and I could feel the eyes of the doctors watching behind me.

Howard was close, and I backed off, savoring the moment for a few

minutes before going at it again with ernest passion, letting

Howard come in torrents. He nearly passed out from that alone.

Then it began. Dr. Olefson took up a meat tenderizer and

began gently tapping on one of Howard's balls, increasing with

force with each blow. One of the other doctors took a large

needle and forced it through Howard's other nut, then pounded it

into the wood beyond, essentially nailing his ball to the chair.

It felt like hours. The brutal pounding continued

unrelentlessly. The needles continued until his testicle looked

like a bristling hedgehog. My job was to keep smelling salts

handy and bring Howard back from unconsciousness.

Finally Dr. Olefson had pounded poor Howard's scrotum flat.

I thought they were done, but I watched in horror as they hooked

electric conducts to the needles in his other nut and fried it

inside the sack.

I realized how lucky I had been.

She waited, studying his eyes for recognition, for the flood

of pain to recede just enough for him to watch the final cut.

"You were hoping to get to use this again, weren't you? I know

about hormonal supplements, injecting that nasty testosterone

into your body to feel male again. But I think this will be much

better, don't you agree? Your mouth, your ass will be the

exclusive toys for others to play with. Don't you agree?" She

took up his penis in her gloved hand, watching it stiffen in her

palm. "I see that you do." I could see her smile beneath her

surgical mask as her assistant placed a slim, smooth glass rod in

her hand. Already lubricated it slipped neatly into Howard's

urethra. She held up her hand for absolute silence, then with a

gentle chop, broke it in several places. Its snapping sound

going right through me.

Dr. Olefson joked: "He'll be pissing glass for a while."

Then she took up something that looked like a cheese grater in

her hand.

Howard wreathed violently in his bonds as Dr. Olefson's

short, deft, strokes lightly brushed against the head of his

cock. In time, she applied a bit of pressure and the blood began

to ooze, then flow.

Gibbering, quivering, Howard nodded viciously when Dr.

Olefson asked if he wanted her to cut of his prick.

Howard watched as his organ was removed from his body, then

using local anesthesia Dr Olefson began the rest of her plan.

Howard was allowed to pass out.

My days were spent much like that. Helping when told,

licking clits until my tongue seized and standing around like a

piece of furniture. I listened to the women as they sipped their

tea and chatted of their triumphs, frightening as they may be.

They exchanged recipes for roasting freshly pruned testicles,

methods of torture using house hold drain cleaners to cook the

ball in the sack and not kill the subject, ingredients for a

herbal brew that will shrink testicles and increase breast size

and a whole host of methods to prolong a male's suffering,

penectomy being the least of them.

My nights were the worst. Alone with my horny thoughts and

unable to do anything about them. Then when Dr. Tamara came to

bed and snuggled up with me. Unable to touch her, but feeling

her perky nipples against my skin was unbearable!

It was day eight I was sent to Heathrow to fetch another

client of Dr. Tamara. He was also from the states and was a

bundle of questions that I could not answer (gagged as I was). I

stood as Dr. Tamara sat him in her office after the tour. I

trembled, waiting for the command as he politely told the doctor

he had changed his mind.

I through him to the floor, pinning him with the chair as

the doctor quickly sedated him. After he was secured in bed I

went about my other duties. The maid seemed to know the

tradition because she ungagged me that evening. Before I was

secured in bed, I crept into his room and gave him the blow job

of his life.

The morning of his penectomy, I noted with smug satisfaction

that the doctor did not sleep with him.

On the morning of the tenth day, I was finally released from

the mask and allowed to shave and prepare for my flight. Dr.

Tamara greeted me and presented me with the Greta mask and gloves

for me to take home. "You've seemed to take to the role quite

well. Good luck, I will see you two years from today."