By Jocelyn.

Richard looked about him nervously.  It was his first time with a professional dominatrix and although this place had been personally recommended he was unsure what to expect.

The receptionist had given him a welcoming smile, and had then called for a consultant Dom who had spoken with him in more detail about his fantasies.

The woman was tall, dark and Romanesque, wearing a sleek black dress slit to the waist to reveal long shapely legs. He outlined his fantasy; of castration by a woman who would demand his utmost loyalty to her as a castrati.  He explained, he was not really into the pain thing, more of a psychological release. And yes, stockings, a basque and a very stern woman all pressed his buttons.  She smiled at him, snakelike and teasing.  “Richard, we have the ideal woman for you. Carla will more than meet your needs. Carla takes realism to the nth degree.” 

She nodded, clicked her fingers and a girl of no more than 18 entered. She looked angelic in a white mini dress, knee length peasant cloth white thigh boots, encasing deeply tanned shapely legs.  She looked coolly at Richard and indicated with a wave of her hand that he follow her.

Wordlessly she led him into a spacious room with wall surrounds of erotic paintings and four red armchairs in the centre.  He was a little surprised to see that one was occupied by another customer. He was mid forties, hair thin blonde and slightly receding,  a pinched face and slender body devoid of fat.  He tipped his head conspiratorially to Richard as the girl departed.

Richard hesitated.  “This is my first time.”  He volunteered, and sat.

The man smiled knowingly.   “I’m Jon, Jonathon. They are good.” He half closed his eyes.  “I mean, really good. But this time, I’m here for something special…”  He tailed off and Richard raised his eyebrows.  “I’m going to have it done for real. My wife relishes the idea. In fact, she suggested it.”  He sat back, his breathing increasing with the anticipation, and his tongue slid across his thin lips. 

“For real?”  Richard asked.

“Yeah, I’m to have my balls cut off. For real, you know, not just pretend.”

“Can they do that?” Richard frowned.

“Sure. Sure they can. I mean, I had to sign a waiver. But it’s all this personal rights legislation these days you know. And the woman doing it, God, she’s the best. A real ball breaker is Katjia.”

“Katjia?”  Richard swallowed, not sure what else to say.

“Yeah, she’s the best apparently. She worked in Somalia as a medical aid worker, and was taken by one of the warlords. He used her to castrate his prisoners. It was a case of her doing them, or her life. Yeah, right, as though she had a choice. She had to achieve a very high survival success rate. I mean, it wasn’t exactly ER hygiene there you know. But she never lost one. Not one! Hell, over 300 guys lost their balls to her.  She sorta got to like it, and’s now employed by these gals. This whole place is run by women you know…”

Richard merely nodded, his mind turning over this new information. 

“Don’t worry,  for you it’ll all be pure fantasy. God, it’ll stoke ya furnace.” He said.

“I’ve er, got Carla.”  Richard said, somewhat inanely.

“Yeah, I’ve had her discipline me. She’s good, real good, a top dom. Great wrist action.”  

Richard wondered about the ambiguity of the last bit.

“I’ll tell yer kid,  you ‘aint lived until ya’ve had an encounter with a castratrix!” He enthused.

“A sort of once in a lifetime experience?”  Richard replied with a touch of irony.

“What?  Oh, yeah.”  Jon chuckled. “That’s good, I like that…” 

At that point the young girl returned, and crooked her finger at Richard. He stood and followed her out, his heartbeat quickening.

He found himself in another large room, almost clinical and fitted out with odd contraptions. The girl frowned at him.  “Undress.” She commanded, briskly, no nonsense.

Richard hesitated looking about him.  His eyes settling on a low table, dark mahogany, about 7 feet by 3, in front of him.

“It’s not a request.” She snapped coldly.  And Richard quickly shed all his clothes.

“I’m here to prepare you for your mistress.” She said. “I’m her acolyte.” Her perfume was heady and, as her green eyes looked up into his, she pouted, her full red lips parted to reveal the white of her even teeth.  “Put your arms in front of you, one over the other.” He did so, and she strapped them together, across his chest. “Now open your mouth.” He complied and she fitted a ball gag.  “Now await your mistress.” She ordered and without a sound she departed, leaving him standing in uncertain expectation,  nude and vulnerable, as a new born baby.

From behind him came a sound and he half turned. It was his mistress, voluptuous, in stilettos, sheer black stockings, maroon basque, a black Victorian cameo choker around her neck. In her hand she held a thin rattan cane.  Above her stocking tops, her skin was as white as settled snow. Her raven hair was tied up Hepburn style, and her blue eyes bore a glacial glint.

“Get on the table.” The woman instructed in a low husky voice.  Richard paused to take a breath, and squealed as the rattan cane cut sharply across his buttocks!  “Now!” She barked. 

He quickly did as she bid, and she tied his legs to each corner so that he lay with them splayed wide apart.  She fixed a tight broad leather band across him, just under his arms.  He was totally immobile, save for being able to twist his head from side to side.

“I will enjoy this.”  She whispered in his ear.  Richard closed his eyes briefly as the fantasy he’d dreamed of started to come alive. He wanted to pledge his enduring obedience to Carla. As Jon in the waiting room had promised, she was gorgeously dominant.

“Your Katjia, is going to change your life.  To realise a dream shared by you and… your wife.”

“Katjia?”  Richard blinked.  “Katjia?” 

“Just you relax Jonathon. I’m just going to give you a little injection, just locally so you won’t hardly feel a thing. When you leave here today, it will be as your wife’s little gelding. I spoke to her you know?  We do have to check that we’re not making a mistake.”

Richard’s eyes widened,  Jonathon? This was the mother of all mistakes. He was not Jonathon, there had been a mix up!  They’d mistaken him for the other man in the waiting room! He was there for the fantasy, not the real thing.  He winced slightly at the sting of an injection at his groin.

Katjia moved to his head and looked down at him. He twisted towards her staring directly at her mound of Venus, outlined under her scanty silk black panties.  “My acolyte will attend the castration, she adores such occasions.” Katjia added.  She reached down and picked up a scalpel.  “I’ll be using this.” She said. Richard squirmed, his eyes pleading.  “Demelza, tie up his scrotum would you darling.” 

The young girl appeared within Richard’s arc of vision, a thin cord in her hand. There was a look of delight on her face as she secured it tightly around his sac.  Katjia, leaned over him, her generous breasts swaying under her, almost tumbling out of her tight basque. “I note you appreciate what you see.” Said Katjia. “Soon these feelings will disappear as your castration takes effect, and you become accustomed to your eunuch status. Your wife is looking forward to taking control of your training as her emasculated house slave.”  She fumbled amongst a bag of instruments, then gazed at him pityingly. “She told me of her plans for you.  Naked, you will attend to her every whim, whilst in front of you she copulates with her latest lover. Afterwards you will clean their intimate parts, and they will sip chilled white chardonnay together.  Periodically she will instruct the maid, Nina, to discipline you. Yes, Nina, Jonathon, can you visualise that?”

“No, no, I’m Richard not Jonathon.”  Richard desperately mmmm’d incomprehensibly into his gag.

“Nina, the plump middle aged Latin maid that you give your casual orders to.  I’m sure she will look forward to whipping your bare rump…  With your wife in attendance, to ensure your total compliance. Oh, and your wife will parade you in front of her friends. They’ll hold your servitude in scorn, expressing mirth at your neutering.”  She gently stroked his organ, pulling back his foreskin, and kneading his bulbous tip.

Despite himself, Richard’s hardness became irresistible, and he breathed in heavily.

“My, he is game isn’t he. I think we’d better milk him first, don’t you Demelza.” Katjia said. He felt a cool hand settle around his erection and slowly begin to massage. He cried out under his gag at the utter ecstasy. He silently pledged, he would surrender to the superiority of females, eternally, for ever, and ever, and….aaaghh,  ooooohh.. Finally, an arc of white shot across his stomach. 

As he lay panting as he felt a sudden coldness at his groin.  He wriggled in panic, but the bindings held him - unmoving. There was a numbing ache at his groin, and he could feel his balls being squeezed and manipulated.  “This fruit is ready for plucking.” Katjia said.

Demelza, gave him a wickedly inimical smile. “One day, I shall also be a castratrix,. Soon, very soon I think. I assure you, many of you men I will geld.”  Richard tried to move, to twist away but his bonds held him tight.

“He is getting into the theme isn’t he.”  Katjia said. “Jonathon, you are Oscar material. It is though you really do dread your castration. But we know better don’t we; my toy…”  She held up her scalpel and Richard noticed a sliver of blood. Oh sweet Jesus, she’d begun the process!

“I’m not Jonathon! Mmmmmhph”  It felt as though his balls had turned to ice, whilst perspiration wetted his brow.

“Number one.”  Katjia said. Then turned to Demelza, “you can take his second, just as I showed you.” And handed the scalpel to the eager young girl. Demelza leaned over Richard’s helpless groin and he whimpered.

Demelza paused to give him a sideways look. Her eyes were bright with a zealot fire. “Yes, my mistress.” She murmured, and set to her task of initiating Richard into the third sex.

Finally the women stepped back. “There.” Katjia said, and raised a jar holding testicles. “Merely six minutes from start to finish to neuter you. Don’t worry Jonathon,  I’ll personally present these to your good wife. Soon castration will be as common as a vasectomy. So many men, so few males”  She grinned at Demelza who giggled back.

Richard wanted to scream that there’d been a mistake. Oh God, he was a eunuch, his testicles were gone, what would his wife say? How could he go into the sports showers again? Demelza leaned over and untied his bonds, “follow me.” She whispered to him, and removed his gag.  He looked about him wildly, but Katjia had disappeared, along with his manhood.

“I won’t be able to walk.”  He gasped, but struggled to sit up, thankful that the injection was still controlling the pain.

“You’ll manage.”  Dismissed Demelza with a secretive smirk.

Richard gazed dolefully at his groin, and his mouth dropped open. He was untouched, unharmed, a complete male… 

As Demelza helped Richard off the table, the man Richard knew as Jonathon appeared at the doorway.  “Well, you wanted your fantasy to be as real as possible didn’t you?  We give a good service don’t we sweet Demelza…”  Then he stepped away.

Richard looked at Demelza and she winked, grinning.  “One day…..”  She said, leaving the sentence unfinished. 

And Richard returned her grin… nervously.

                                                                        THe End