I followed her into the house and down a corridor and into a closed office suite. She led me into a small office on the left side of the suite, took off her suit jacket and hung it up, and sat behind her desk. She invited me to sit down in the chair facing the desk.

"Do you do what I think you do?" I asked shyly.

"Yes," she said, "I'm pretty sure I do. I castrate."

"Do you do it to animals?" I asked.

"Of course," she replied, "but only to male ones like you."

"How many men have you... done?" I asked.

"Quite a few. I've been doing this for a number of years now," she replied.

"Are you going to be doing any... today?" I asked with a gulp.

"You mean, besides yourself?" she asked mischievously. I gulped again and she laughed. Then she looked down and consulted her schedule book that lay open on the desk and continued, "Well, in fact I have 4 scheduled for today, and I usually average about one walk-in a day, so I'll probably be doing at least five."

"Are you the only one who does this?" I asked.

"No," she replied, "there are at least five others in the Bay area. I've met a couple of them and we all have a pretty steady stream of clients. Thanks to our efforts the local eunuch population continues to increase. Ha ha!"

I started to fidget. She noticed and asked me if it was because I was becoming aroused. I admitted that it was. She said she wanted to see, and then she instructed me to strip from the waist down. I nervously did as she asked and soon I stood in front of her, naked from the waist down and with my erection standing out stiffly from between my legs. She looked me over appraisingly and commented that she thought I had a fine, healthy set of genitals.

"I find it's very useful to monitor my client's sexual responses during an initial consultation," she said. She smiled wickedly and instructed me to sit back down and to slowly masturbate while we talked.

She asked me how long had I found this topic to be sexually arousing. I admitted I had fantasized about it since I was quite young. She asked me if I had ever thought of having it done for real. I just blushed and shook my head. "Well, I can definitely help you out with that. Just relax and trust me and I'll take care of everything," she said. This made me get all the more excited and to stroke myself with increased vigor.

I asked her how she knew when a man was ready to have it done. She said that many of the males who came to her were confused and uncertain and that she was always more than happy to help guide them. With the help of her firm guidance they soon came to accept what she decided was best.

She then reached into her drawer and pulled out a slim book of large format photographs and drawings and handed it to me, asking me to look at them. I put it down next to me on the end table to my left and paged through it with my left hand, my right still busy pumping in my lap. It contained photos of healthy, sexy, dominant women vigorously sodomizing submissive men with strap-on dildos. All the men were portrayed as being both very humiliated and very aroused by this forceful penetration of their most sensitive and intimate spot. I was fascinated by the pictures. I had never seen any that were even half as good. They were very erotic and my cock swelled even more and I stroked even harder.

Noticing my response she said that being stimulated by such pictures showed that I was likely to be receptive to having it done because submitting to being emasculated by a dominant woman like that was very similar to castration. Further, she said, any male who exposed his swollen sex organ to her in her office was definitely ready. And masturbating in front of her meant I was probably more than ready, I probably need it. I gasped and almost stopped stroking my hard cock. Please don't stop, she said with a smile, I'm enjoying the show.

My cock seemed to swell to an even more intense, bursting stiffness and all my sensations began to become centered in my cock. "But ready isn't the same as willing," I managed to gasp. "Very true," she replied, "but if you ejaculate in front of me then that shows you're not just willing, you're eager, in my opinion."

I hunched forward, my mouth open, my jaw slack, my legs spread brazenly apart, displaying myself fully. My fist moved strongly up and down as I felt my orgasm begin to build.

"I'm glad you came to my office today," she said with a wicked smile. "I'm going to enjoy taking you in the exam room in a couple minutes and giving you what you need."

"But I... but I...", I stammered.

"Many males have sat where you're sitting now and have jerked off in front of me, just as you are. Believe me, when you finish shooting your load you'll see things my way. To date, no male who has brazenly ejaculated in front of me has left with a full ball sac."

By now I was hovering on the edge. She smiled and said quietly, "Go ahead, do it. You know you're just dying to show me what you can do. And then afterwards I can get started on you."

The feelings were overpowering. The dangerous, perilous consequences of what I was about to do overwhelmed me. Even though I knew what I was committing to I couldn't resist, couldn't hold back. With a great feeling of anguish and dread I started to ejaculate with great force. My first spurt shot a yard in the air and they kept coming, spurt after spurt. She leaned forward, watching it all with keen interest and delight.

As soon as my cock began to deflate and the last dribbles of sperm were oozing out she stood up and came around the desk, ordering me to stand up. I stood shakily to my feet and she immediately reached over and grasped my slick, deflating cock with shocking forwardness and familiarity. She gave it a sharp yank and told me to follow her. I followed as she led me by my cock. "Watch out for the puddles," she said lightly.

I followed her mutely out into the hall and then into the adjacent room which was equipped as a typical medical exam room. She told me to lie down on the exam table and put my feet up in the stirrups.

She got some wet wipes and cleaned the semen off me and then she covered my scrotum with shaving cream. I lay still silently while I felt her slowly and gently shave my scrotum completely bare.

I heard a noise from the outer office. Someone was coming in. A sexy young female voice called out, "Ms. Van Gelder?" The castratrix was wiping my clean-shaven scrotum with a wet wipe as she answered, "Yes, Maryanne, I'm in the exam room. We've got a walk-in. Please go in my office and clean up the floor. I'm afraid there was a fairly messy consultation."

I heard footsteps going into the adjacent office followed by a low whistle and then a throaty laugh, "My goodness, I should say so! Very messy!"

Ms. Van Gelder went over to the side of the exam room, opened a drawer and took out a long hypodermic needle. She came back and told me I was going to feel a little prick. She then stuck the needle in next to my scrotum and slowly injected me.

"What's in the needle?" I asked.

"Anesthetic," Ms. Van Gelder replied casually.

Just then Maryanne, a very pretty young girl, came into the office and greeted Ms. Van Gelder. 'Wow!" she exclaimed, "That sure was an awful lot of thick, gloppy sperm on your floor!" The two women laughed quietly.

Then Ms. Van Gelder said, "Maryanne, this is Stan. I met him outside on the sidewalk this morning. He said he was very curious about the services I offered."

"Very curious and very excited," said Maryanne, "judging by all the sperm he squirted." She giggled at the thought.

"Yes," said Ms. Van Gelder, "it was really quite a show. I'm sorry you weren't here to see it. I know you would've enjoyed it. And I'm pretty sure Stan would have enjoyed showing off for you as well."

"And now you're going to show him exactly what kind of services you offer?" asked Maryanne coyly.

"Of course," responded Ms. Van Gelder. Then, becoming more businesslike, she continued, "Now, as you can see," said Ms. Van Gelder, "I already have him well shaven. And I injected him with anesthetic a couple minutes ago so he should be numbing up pretty soon. Why don't you set up my stand and put the instrument tray on it?"

I began to feel very vulnerable and a little frightened. "What... what are you going to do to me?" I asked timidly.

"I'm going to give you what you need, Stan. What you're, in fact, eager to have done. I'm about to make your deepest, darkest, sexiest fantasy come true." She then pinched my scrotum and asked me if I could feel anything. When I told her I couldn't she told Maryanne that they could proceed.

As Ms. Van Gelder began to go to work between my legs I asked her what she was doing. "It's really a very simple procedure, Stan. It's exactly the same kind of thing that's routinely done to other animals, such as horses and dogs, every day. And it's done for their own good, to make them calmer and happier. And so will you. So just relax and it'll be over before you know it."

"Is it like a vasectomy?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "it's a lot like a vasectomy. In fact some of my colleagues often refer to it as a full-strength vasectomy." She laughed quietly and Maryanne giggled.

A few minutes later, Ms. Van Gelder said, "OK, let's get him sewed up. He's nice and fixed now like a horny little doggy." She laughed when she saw my worried look. "Don't worry, Stan, you'll soon get used to being a castrated little eunuch."