Terri Lynn Home From College:Summer Job Part 3

Part 3 of 3: The Conclusion

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Terri Lynn Home From College: Summer Job
Part 3 of 3: The Conclusion

Mr. Dave opened the windows, all screened to keep out the flies, 
and turned on several large fans mounted on the wall near the 
ceiling. A porch with  a corrugated sheet metal roof ran the length 
of the building on the west side, blocking the direct rays of the 
afternoon sun. It wasn't air conditioning, but the little building 
soon became quite comfortable.
We all took hot showers with a shower head improvised from a garden 
hose - it felt good. Mr. Dave had rigged a privacy curtain from a 
plastic tarp and placed it around the stanchions that once held the 
cows while they were milked. We washed out our swimsuits in the 
shower and put them back on as we came out. They dried quickly in 
the dry summer air under the fans. Mr. Dave showered last and came 
out wearing only a towel. The air was filled with tension as we all 
realized the fateful moment was now near.
We had covered a long stainless steel table with a cotton blanket. 
Our plan was to have Mr. Dave bend over the end of the table, face 
down, with his buttocks and legs hanging off. This would let me get 
to him from behind and put the Burdizzo in place.
"Just bend over the table and put your weight on it, Mr. Dave," I 
said.
He looked rather sheepish and nervous as Doris and Melanie each 
took one of his hands and started to assist him to his position. 
Sharon had started to remove the towel from around Dave's waist 
when Nedra whispered something to Doris and Melanie, making them 
giggle.
"Terri Lynn," said Nedra, "I think it would go a lot better for Mr. 
Dave if we could let him cum and do it just as he shot off. Could 
you do that?"
Sharon and I looked at each other and smiled. We knew that was 
exactly how we did it to Sharon's little brother. We clamped him 
just as he came and it was at once the most wonderful and the most 
horrendous moment in his life.
"And don't worry," said Nedra, reaching down and fondling Dave's 
turgid penis, "I'll take care of things down here."
"Okay," I said, chuckling, "you just let me know when he squirts."
"Don't worry," Nedra said, giggling uneasily. "You'll know!"
"You girls are so sweet," Dave said, sounding like he was about to 
cry. "You know I haven't done my thing in years, at least not when 
I was awake to know about it."
"You know," said Doris, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, 
"it's a shame you sold all your electric milking machines, because 
I just thought of something that would have really been fun."
"Yeah," Dave muttered, sheepishly, trying to manage a chuckle, " I 
let all that stuff go when I sold my cows." His face was now as red 
as a beet. "Maybe it's just as well it's gone. I think I know what 
y'all are thinkin' and that's just too naughty."
"What's that thing over there, Mr. Dave?" Melanie said, pointing to 
a small stainless steel contraption with some clear tubing and cups 
attached. It was sitting in a shaded corner we had paid no 
attention to it until Melanie pointed it out.
"Oh, I had just about forgot that thing," Dave said, still sounding 
quite embarrassed. "That's an old outdated model I just used for a 
backup. It wasn't worth anything for resale, so it just got stuck 
in here when I sold the rest."
"Does it still work?" Doris asked, enthusiastically.
"Can't rightly say," Dave replied. "Don't guess it's been turned on 
in over four years."

Doris and Melanie dragged the old milking machine up near the table 
and wiped off the accumulation of dust with damp towels. Doris had 
an aunt and uncle who owned a dairy and she had helped them milk on 
numerous occasions, so this kind of equipment wasn't totally 
unfamiliar to her. After the machine was reasonably cleaned up, she 
plugged in the cord and poised her finger by the switch.
"Well, here goes."
With the snap of Doris' finger the machine whirred to life and we 
could hear the rush of air as it was sucked into the tubing through 
the nipple cups. Grinning impishly, Doris removed her bikini top 
and placed one of the cups to her breast. The machine quickly 
pulled her nipple, aureole, and about two inches of soft, white 
breast into its suction, distending the tissue to conform to the 
shape of the cup.
I don't think it really felt that good, but Doris threw her head 
back, rolled her  eyes wildly, and gave a deep gasping sigh as 
though she was in the throws of wanton rapture.
"Oh, I've got to try!" said Melanie, ripping off her bikini top and 
placing a suction cup over one breast.
"Me too!" Nedra exclaimed excitedly, following the lead of Doris 
and Melanie.
Melanie quickly grabbed the fourth cup, which was dangling and 
sucking air, and placed it on her other breast. The powerful vacuum 
surged in little pulses as it futilely tried to draw milk from the 
four dry teats it held in its grip. Fascinated by the strange new 
sensation and the sheer naughtiness of it all, the girls giggled 
and tugged at suction tubes into which their breasts were distended.
"You know," said Sharon, "if you're not giving milk that thing will 
start sucking blood - right out of the end of your tits!"
"Yeah," I chimed in, "it'll make your tits look like limp bananas 
and they will hang down to your navel. Is that what you want? We're 
going to all look like that soon enough anyway. They call those 
granny tits!"
A note of concern came across Melanie's face and she tugged at the 
cups attempting to remove them. However, her soft breast flesh just 
distended all the more as she pulled, the suction cups refusing to 
part with their prize.
"Oh, don't worry, Melanie," Doris teased. "Just relax and enjoy it. 
You can wear a support bra and nobody will know what your tits 
really look like. Who cares if it makes our tits look like link 
sausages? This is fun!"
"Turn it off!" Melanie shrieked, in sheer panic. "Turn it off!"
Giggling, Doris reached down and switched off the machine. Melanie 
pulled herself free and her face was filled with obvious relief. 
The rest of us all laughed, even Mr. Dave.
"That thing won't really stretch your tits out like that, will it?" 
Melanie said, looking a little embarrassed now.
"I don't know," I said. "Maybe it would if you used it every day 
for a long time."

Finally we wound up our fun, settled down, and got back to 
business. Nedra assisted Melanie in getting Mr. Dave into position 
on the table. We had decided to let Doris handle Dave down below 
now, since she was our "expert" with the milking machine.
Along with some other toiletries, we had brought some lotion and 
Melanie and Nedra were rubbing it onto Dave's back and shoulders. 
Sharon and I had spread his legs so his genitals were easily 
accessible and we were rubbing lotion on his legs and we felt him 
relax. Mr. Dave gasped with pleasure and surprise when I gently 
grabbed his balls and began fondling them. He stiffened a little at 
first, then he relaxed and just sighed.
Suddenly, Melanie climbed onto the table and nestled Dave's head in 
her lap.
"Would you like to kiss my legs, Mr. Dave? I've noticed you've been 
looking at them all morning."
Mr. Dave just blushed and grinned as Melanie grabbed him by the 
ears and pulled his face firmly into her soft inner thighs.
Doris switched-on the milking machine and began lubricating one of 
the cups with lubricating jelly. It made a gurgling sound as some 
of it was occasionally sucked into the plastic tubing. Sharon and I 
were both kneading and stretching Dave's balls and we could hear 
his breathing becoming more excited and irregular.
Melanie raised her hips and wriggled out of her bikini bottom.
"Here, Mr. Dave; let me get this off so you can get in here. You do 
want in here, don't you Mr. Dave?"
"Oh…, oh… Miss Melanie," he said, in a quivering, pleading voice, 
"do people really do that?"
Melanie just smiled as she pulled Dave's face deeply into her warm 
dripping fuzziness. Dave slurped, moaned, grunted and squealed like 
some kind of little animal as he frantically indulged himself in 
his newly-found bliss.
I believe that I, more than the others, more fully appreciated the 
ecstasy that poor old Mr. Dave was experiencing at that moment. I 
knew what an affect Melanie had had on him that day in the parking 
lot when he heard her beautiful legs squeaking against the vinyl 
seats her car. His heart had been heavy for weeks, thinking of it; 
believing at the time he would never be able to touch, caress, or 
even acknowledge such beauty openly. Now his face was buried 
between those very thighs; his frantic tongue now probing the 
wondrous altar of his most delectable and forbidden fantasies. And 
constantly in the back of his mind must be the acute awareness that 
he was enjoying his last few minutes as a man.
I heard a loud gurgling slurp come from beneath the table as Doris 
slipped a nipple cup onto Dave's eager penis. I looked down to see 
small streamers of pre-cum being sucked up into the clear tubing. 
Mr. Dave began trying to thrust with his hips which was almost 
impossible in the position in which we held him. He wrapped his 
arms tightly around Melanie's hips and his slurping and squealing 
became even more frenzied. He was wiggling and thrashing 
helplessly, like some tormented worm.
I left Sharon to knead and stretch Mr. Dave's balls while I removed 
the Burdizzo from its holster. I knew it wouldn't be much longer 
now as I placed the heavy stainless steel jaws softly against the 
cord of Dave's right testicle, as near to his crotch as I could.
Suddenly, Mr. Dave withdrew his head from Melanie's crotch and 
began licking her all the way from her crotch, through her midriff 
and navel to her breasts. He seemed to do this in a sweeping motion 
from his waist or hips, hardly moving his neck at all. All the 
while his tongue was distended from his mouth as far as it would 
reach, trying to get as much of Melanie's skin in contact with it 
as possible. He just kept going, "Ahaaaaaa, ahaaaaa, ahaaaaaa," 
mindlessly.
Suddenly, Mr. Dave stiffened, broke his rhythm and squealed and 
babbled like he was trying to say something as he shot his load. I 
brought the jaws of the Burdizzo together quickly and held them for 
the count. Mr. Dave just froze, looked up into Melanie's face, and 
shrieked pitifully. Then he collapsed like he had passed out.
Sharon quickly stretched his left testicle to the bottom of his 
sack and I repeated the process before he regained consciousness. 
Dave moaned and mumbled a little, like someone having a dream, but 
he never knew when I crushed his other cord. All the while he was 
smiling peacefully with his head lying between Melanie's thighs.
I doubt if Mr. Dave was unconscious for more than a few seconds, 
but it seemed like a long time to us. When he came around, we 
assured him that it was all over, and yes, we got both of them. He 
felt his sack to confirm that his cords were no longer attached and 
then he began to cry.
I was worried at first. I thought Mr. Dave was having some serious 
regrets and that he might go to a doctor and we would all wind up 
in a psycho hospital or something. But he said it was okay and he 
was really glad it had been done. He didn't know why he was crying 
and he tried to apologize. I've since learned that it isn't at all 
unusual for men to cry after they've been castrated, in fact, it's 
unusual if they don't. I think it's some kind of emotional release 
mechanism.
We held him and comforted him for several minutes and finally he 
said he felt okay. Sharon and I took Dave back to the shower to 
help him bathe because we were afraid his ordeal might have made 
him weak and he might fall or something. We didn't worry about 
modesty and just stripped off and showered with him. We realized 
that, technically, we weren't really showering with a man; Mr. Dave 
was officially a eunuch now. However, we did notice that he 
obtained a partial erection as Sharon and I washed him.
After we had all showered and dressed we went up to Mr. Dave's 
house and we girls were going to fix lunch (or dinner, as country 
folks call it). Mr. Dave paid us the two hundred dollars he had 
promised and threw in another fifty dollars for a bonus. He smiled 
(and cried a little) and said we had done a fine job.
Maybe it's because I realized that I was the one who pressed the 
handles on the Burdizzo and actually castrated Mr. Dave that caused 
me to start getting nervous. My hands started shaking so badly that 
I couldn't even help with dinner. They just told me to sit down and 
rest and I did. Fortunately, that problem has never recurred, and 
I've castrated lots of men over the years. It was just first-time 
jitters I guess.
After our late lunch (it was already three o'clock), we stayed with 
Mr. Dave a while to keep him company and watch for any signs of an 
adverse reaction. We all kind of felt a little responsible for his 
well-being after the castration. He kept insisting that he didn't 
feel any differently; there was no pain or anything. He was a 
little tired from the morning's activities and that was all. 
Finally he said he needed to start making preparations for the 
evening feeding. He said he enjoyed our company, but if we needed 
to go he would be alright.
"Mr. Dave," Doris said, gingerly, with a mischievous smile on her 
face, "Melanie and I have been talking, and since we have to leave 
tomorrow, we would like to say good bye in a very special way, you 
know, since you're feeling okay and everything. I'll bet you can 
still do it."
It took old Dave a few seconds to catch on to the full meaning of 
Doris' words. He looked kind of surprised, then he replied.
"Oh no, Miss Doris, I couldn't do that. It just wouldn't be right. 
I've never been unfaithful to Bessie Mae in all our years of 
marriage, at least not until today, and that was like part of the 
job. I was getting fixed so I would never want to be unfaithful 
again.
"You know, I've never even seen a girl nekked in my life until this 
morning, cept in pictures, and I try not to look at that stuff."
"How could that be, Mr. Dave?" Melanie asked. "I thought you had a 
couple of kids."
"I got three," he replied, "but me and the Misses never took off 
all our clothes to do it, we took off just what we had to, and we 
always did it in the dark with no light at all. I was raised to 
believe it was a sin to dwell on the nekkedness of a woman, even if 
she was my wife, and Bessie Mae believed that too. We was taught 
that if your mind wasn't on having babies, you shouldn't be doing 
it."
"That's so sad, Mr. Dave," said Doris. "Sex should be a wonderful 
happy thing, especially for married couples. The human body is a 
beautiful thing, to be admired, not something to be ashamed of."
"That may be what you believe, Miss Doris, but that ain't the way I 
was raised. I never even saw a pretty girl in a bikini close up 
until this morning. You know, I mostly just saw pictures and maybe 
once or twice I saw one at the motel pool when I passed it on the 
road. And then we get those catalogs from Sears and the other 
stores showing all those women in pretty underwear, and it just 
makes me want to take my hands and… and… 
"Oh, forgive me, please forgive me! I shouldn't be thinking those 
kind of thoughts."
"Mr. Dave," Doris said, with a more serious expression on her face 
now, "you've practiced abstinence and remained true to your 
convictions for more years than I've been alive. I can't really 
imagine the suffering you've endured because of it. Now you've 
given up the one thing that many men consider more precious than 
their lives, just so you won't be tempted into unfaithfulness. But 
this is your day, Mr. Dave, you've earned any pleasure you enjoy 
today, and nobody will blame you for it."
"Yes, Mr. Dave," Melanie added, "I don't even think God would blame 
you for it today!"
"Oh, you girls are so sweet, but I just couldn't, not in mine and 
Bessie Mae's bed, or in this house. It just wouldn't be right."
"Well, Mr. Dave," said Doris, "we can take some blankets down and 
throw on the hay bales and do it in the barn."
"Well, what about feeding the calves?"
"Sharon and I can take care of that," I said. "We've bucket-fed 
calves before; we know what to do."
"And I'll help," Nedra added. "After today I want to learn all 
about the livestock business. I'm inspired!"

Doris, Melanie, and Mr. Dave disappeared into the same big barn 
where we banded the calves that morning, while Sharon and I began 
preparing the milk replacer and buckets. Nedra watched and helped 
as much as she could. The calves, including about a dozen heifer 
calves which had of course missed out on this morning's escapade, 
all came up in the lot bawling, awaiting their feed. The ones that 
had been banded still seemed oblivious to the little rubber rings 
that had forever deprived them of becoming bulls.
We used hot water to make a lukewarm mixture with the milk 
replacer, approximating the temperature of  cow's milk. This is why 
Mr. Dave had maintained the hot water heater in the dairy barn. We 
fed them, six at a time, from buckets, each with a nipple 
projecting from the bottom like a cow's teat. After that, we turned 
them into a little pen with troughs full of calf starter, a high-
protein grain.
Counting the heifers, there were about fifty calves in all, and the 
feeding process took well over an hour. By the time we had cleaned 
up the buckets and the lot, a good two hours had passed. Our work 
finished, the quietness of the rural countryside became manifest. 
We could hear sounds coming from the barn that we knew were the 
sounds of love making, but we tried not to eavesdrop.
I walked with Sharon and Nedra back out to the pond where we had 
swam earlier and we just walked around the bank watching the fish 
and frogs jump. The sun was sinking low in the sky now and the 
clouds shown with vivid red, pink, yellow, and purple hues. It was 
like something out of a surrealist painting. Old Rouzer followed us 
around faithfully and it made us feel a little safer from snakes. 
It was as though the dog tactfully knew to leave his master alone 
when he had female company.
Nedra, a city girl, was overwhelmed by the tranquillity of it all. 
The quietness was almost eerie. Not that it was really so quiet, as 
it was that there were no manmade sounds. There were insects, 
frogs, birds, and the occasional bawl of a calf, but no cars, 
airplanes, lawnmowers, or any of the many sounds you hear in the 
city. We sat on the pond bank for a long time, sometimes talking 
girl talk, and sometimes just listening to the sounds of the 
country.
Finally, we heard laughter and talking, and a light came on in the 
dairy barn. It was beginning to get dark now. We started walking 
back in that direction and heard the sound of running water coming 
from the dairy barn. Mr. Dave and the girls were taking a shower. 
When they dressed and came out, I don't believe I can remember ever 
seeing such contented smiles on three people. It was the kind of 
smile and contentment that only comes from wonderful, satisfying 
sex! All of us girls piled into the Micro Bus and started to leave.
"Hey, wait a minute!" called Mr. Dave. "You girls are about to 
forget your little present."
"Oh yes, we don't want to forget that," Doris said, giggling. 
"Nedra, just pull up to the dairy barn and we'll load it."
I had no idea what they were talking about until I saw Mr. Dave 
coming out the door carrying the milking machine.
"Ain't doin' nobody any good in here," he said. "It's just in the 
way here, and if you girls can have a little fun from it I'm glad 
for you to have it."
"Oh, this thing ought to go over big in the dorm this fall," I 
said, half tongue-in-cheek. Everyone laughed.

Once we were back on the road we headed for my house. That's were 
we would all spend the night.
"Well, should we be jealous?" I asked, directing my question to 
Doris and Melanie.
"Yep," Doris answered smugly, a devilish grin on her face. "Be 
jealous, girls. Be jealous!"
"That good, huh?" Nedra quipped.
"Yeah, that good!" exclaimed Melanie.
"Hell," said Doris, "even after being castrated, Dave was more than 
enough for two nineteen-year-old girls. Just imagine what he would 
have been like if we hadn't fixed him. He could have probably 
handled all five of us." 
"I kind of wish we had done that before we fixed him," said Nedra. 
"I've never particularly liked men, but I kind of like Dave."
"Yeah," I said, "It's a little sad, but I don't think he would have 
touched us before we castrated him. He would have considered that 
being unfaithful to his wife."
"I think you're right," said Melanie. "That bothered him a lot. We 
tried to assure him that he wasn't cheating since, technically, he 
wasn't a man anymore. It still bothered him though."
"Speaking of his wife," asked Doris, "what kind of woman is this 
Bessie Mae? Is she an old biddy or what?"
"No," I said, "Bessie Mae Jenkins is the sweetest, most 
goodhearted, grandmotherly little woman you will ever meet. She's 
not exactly the most attractive woman in the world though. She's 
real short and about a hundred pounds overweight. Her legs just 
look like a couple of big fat posts - no shape at all. Her face is 
wrinkled like a pug dog and she's always looked about twenty years 
older than she really was. But when she smiles you can see the 
warmth and genuine goodness oozing out of her. You can just sort of 
tell by looking at her that the only reason Miss Bessie Mae ever 
had sex was to have kids so she could have grand kids." 
About that time our house popped into view and in a couple of 
minutes Nedra was pulling the Micro Bus into our driveway. It was 
dark and I was afraid Mom and Pop would be worried about us. Sharon 
called her folks and let them know where we were. She had planned 
to stay over with us, making it kind of a slumber party. We told 
our folks that we had just been showing the city girls the sights 
in the country - and in a way, that was true.

The other girls went home the next day, and Sharon and I went back 
to check on Mr. Dave. He admitted that he was a little sore where 
the Burdizzo had clamped him, but otherwise, he didn't feel any 
differently. He seemed happy and said he was glad it had been done.
Sharon and I had talked about trying to take him down to the barn 
like Doris and Melanie had, and just see if we couldn't give him 
the fuck of his life. We decided against it because he was a 
neighbor, and we grew up with his kids, and we really liked Miss 
Bessie Mae and wouldn't want to hurt her, and all of that stuff. It 
just didn't seem right for us to do it, we were practically family. 
What was okay for Doris and Melanie wouldn't have been right for us.
Looking back over the years, though, one of the biggest regrets I 
have is that Sharon and I didn't take Mr. Dave back down to the 
barn that afternoon and fuck his eyeballs out. I'm sure he would 
have been up to a good performance that day since his nuts had only 
been disconnected about twenty-four hours. I've found that most men 
can still perform for a week or more after being castrated. After 
that, their ability drops off quickly.
By the time we had a chance to be alone with Mr. Dave again it was 
too late. 

Our opportunity came that October when Miss Bessie was on an 
overnight trip with her church group and Mr. Dave was by himself 
again. Melanie had come down to visit her aunt in Paxton and we had 
arranged to go see Mr. Dave. It was just me, Sharon, and Melanie 
this time. Nedra and Doris had stayed at the college that weekend.
We had Mr. Dave strip off his clothes to show us how his 
"operation" was progressing. He was a little embarrassed about 
doing that at first, then he just chuckled and said, "I guess it 
ain't the first time," and dropped his pants and underwear. I felt 
of his scrotum and his balls were still there, but they were tiny - 
about the size of marbles. His penis seemed smaller but I couldn't 
be sure. He never showed the slightest hint of a budding erection 
as I examined him. He said he hadn't had one of those since that 
first week.
Just to see if we could get a response from him we stripped off and 
showed him the new lingerie we were wearing and asked him what he 
thought of it. He ran his hands over the silky texture of the 
fabric as it clung to our bodies and said it looked and felt real 
nice. He said it probably looked so nice because it was on such 
pretty girls. We chuckled and thanked him for the compliment.
We broke out a bottle of scented oil and rubbed it all over Mr. 
Dave and let him rub it all over us. During all of this his penis 
remained completely limp. We asked him how all of this made him 
feel and he said it felt good. He said he knew we were pretty and 
he still enjoyed being with us and rubbing his hands over us 
because we were pretty, but he no longer felt that "urge." Being 
with us just made him feel all warm and cozy.
Melanie asked him if he would still like to put his head between 
her legs and do that thing with his tongue. His eyes lit up like a 
little puppy dog's, and I'll swear, if he'd had a tail he'd of 
wagged it! Melanie asked him why he liked that so much if he no 
longer felt the urge. He said that it made him feel even more warm 
and cozy and most of all, when she let him do that, he felt like he 
was someone very special to her.
Melanie assured him that he was someone very special and that when 
he did that to her she felt very special too. She then grabbed him 
by the ears and pulled his face into her wetness. Sharon and I both 
made sure that Dave knew he was someone very special to us too. It 
was the first time that either of us had done that with a man and 
it made us feel a pretty special too - it was wonderful!

Over the years we stayed in touch with Mr. Dave. (He actually 
worked as a maintenance man and caretaker on one of the farms owned 
by our feminist group up until he retired, but that's another 
story.) He became a lot calmer and contented with his life. He said 
the girls in the movies or catalogs and magazines didn't bother him 
anymore. He still enjoyed looking, but it wasn't the same without 
the urge. It was more like looking at a sunset or a view from a 
mountain top. It was pretty, you were glad it was there, you liked 
to look at it, but you didn't feel like you needed to go out and do 
something about it. You just relaxed and went on with your life, 
knowing that beauty was there, but not feeling the urge to possess 
it.
He says that afternoon he spent in the barn with Melanie and Doris 
was one of the happiest memories of his life, but he's not sad 
because he can't do it anymore. He says it's like he remembers 
climbing trees when he was a boy and those are happy memories even 
though he's never going to do that again. As he puts it:
"Now you know I ain't goin' to go scamperin' up a tree anymore, 
like some squirrel, nor would I even want to, but I can remember 
doin' that when I was a boy and just smile thinkin' of how much fun 
it was. Well, it's the same way when I think about that afternoon I 
spent with Miss Doris and Miss Melanie; I ain't ever goin' to do 
that again, but I ain't sad because I can't. I just think about 
what it was like and smile because the memory makes me happy."

Eunuchs tend to live longer than regular men, and Mr. Dave has been 
no exception. He outlived his Miss Bessie Mae, who passed away some 
years ago. He lives in one of our feminist compounds now (quite a 
few eunuchs, but no men, live in our compounds). Melanie visits him 
often, and Dave says he can still remember her getting into that 
little yellow Mustang in the parking lot like it was only yesterday 
(and he remembers that little yellow bikini too). Yes, Melanie is 
fifty now and Dave is eighty, and they still make each other feel 
very special.

THE END