Hot Summer's Day

I walked over to his house, not too far away, a big expensive one set back from the road with trees around it. Chase had inherited money and then had expanded the family business -- electronics of some kind -- and so was quite wealthy. He met me at the door, wearing slacks and a T-shirt. Chase had a good-natured relaxed air. He suggested we get out of our clothes. We wouldn’t need bathing suits. The servants were off for the day and the pool couldn’t be seen from the road.

So we went out to the back of the house. Chase was a big guy, well built, dark haired and dark eyed. I don’t know what his background was but he had skin that looked like he had a beautiful tan, except it was his natural color. He always had this little half smile on his face, like you see on a man who can have any woman he wants. He was passably good looking. We talked as we stripped, about the weather, about business. Then when we were naked he threw me a towel and took one himself.

Outdoors, we jumped into the pool. The water was not too cold so it was very pleasant. We swam for quite a while but finally got out of the water. He had a pitcher of martinis and poured us each one. As he did so, I looked at him casually, admiring the big muscles and the flat belly. I looked down at his pubic area. To my surprise his crotch was shaved very clean. He had a moderate size cock. Underneath the cock there was nothing, no balls at all.

I guess my mouth was hanging open. He smiled at me and said, “Here’s looking at you, Ken,” and raised his glass. I raised mine. I realized he had seen me stare so I said, “Were you... in an accident, Chase?”

He looked down at his crotch. He shrugged, sipped his martini and said, “I guess you could call it that.” He sat down in a deck chair and motioned for me to sit in the one next to him. I sat down.

I didn’t know what to say. He said, “You shocked?”

I said, “How did it happen?”

He lay back in the chair. “I took a walk one night. I used to take walks frequently, and someone came up behind me, jabbed a hypodermic in my ass and I woke up in the hospital. I didn’t remember much. I remembered being frightened and then being in pain. They did a job on me. Mangled my balls something fierce, so much so that they had to be amputated along with the scrotum.I never got a look at whoever it was.”

I sipped a little of my drink, took a breath and said, “Why would anyone do that?”

He put his glass down on the tiles under the chair. “I guess I had enemies. God knows I’ve made enemies enough.”

“Do you know...who?”

“Not really. It could be anyone. I’ve had to deal with some fairly shady characters. And some of them get vengeful.”

I said, “Does it, well, affect your sex life?”

“Yes, of course. It was terrible at first. I thought I was done for.”

“Do they give you hormone shots?”

“Yes, they do. Hormone shots are OK, but it’s not the same.You don’t have the same self confidence. I get the shots once a month and if I forget or can’t take the shot for some reason I’m on the shelf. I meet a woman at the country club. I know she’s willing. But what can I tell her? ‘I haven’t had my shot yet this month?’ And most women are repelled at the idea of going to bed with a eunuch. I hate having to say, ‘Now don’t be surprised when...’ And it’sworse when they reach down with their hand and discover it.”

All I could think to say was “Tough,” but then after a moment I said, “What was your wife’s reaction?”

He snorted “Selma? Well, of course, she was sympathetic, but I know her well enough to know she thought I had it coming to me for all the tom catting I do... used to do.”

“I guess you must be pretty mad at whoever did it.”

He put his head way back and said,”I have people working on it to find out who did it. I don’t mean the actual guys,but whoever paid them to do it.The actual perpertrators were undoubtedly hired to do it.”

“And when you find out?”

“Ah! I have a scenario for that. I’ll hire my own cut throats. They’ll stalk the guy.”

I said “Maybe it was a woman?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m pretty sure it was a man. They’ll wait until they can nab him. But there won’t be any hypodermic.He’ll know what’s happenijng every minute. They’ll put a bag over his head and take him somewhere where there will be an expert waiting. Someone who can perform real surgery. They will strip the guy. Then they’ll tie him down, naked to one of those operating tables. One of them will shave him, a very close shave. He may get knicked by the razor, but that’s no problem. He’ll be tied tight, no anesthetic of course.”

I said, “Losing your nuts must be very painful.”

“Not as painful as it could be. So they’ll give him a shot to make him more sensitive to pain. He’ll be screaming from the first cut of the knife. But the big pain will be when they cut off his cock. They have to go a ways in to do that, cut through the muscle so they get to the very base. Put a catheter in first, so he can piss while it’s healing.”

“You know a lot about it.”

“I’ve researched it.”

I considered what he had said for a few moments. I said, “Aren’t you afraid that it can be a never ending cycle. You got castrated, you castrate the guy and take away his cock. Won’t he want to come back and take yours? Won’t it accelerate until you’re both dead?”

He formed his lips into a sneer, “Maybe it will be too expensive for him. It will cost me a great deal of money, and I think I can pay to have surveillance on him so he won’t be able to do anything.”

I said, “You should forget revenge, Chase. It won’t do you any good. You won’t get your nuts back by taking someone else’s away.”

He drank the last of his martini. He looked at me, raised his eyebrows. He was quiet for a moment or two and then said, “Gee, it’s getting late. I have a dinner date, Ken.” I finished my martini -- my third or fourth and we went back into the house. As we dressed he asked, “You want me to drive you home?”

I said, “No. I’ll walk. It’s not too far.”

He shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”

I walked out nonchalantly. I thought of all the women Chase had seduced. My wife, Claudia, had been among them. I was thinking, “Wouldn’t he be surprised to know who paid those cut throats to deball him?” And that’s when I felt the bag come down over my head. I hadn’t seen or heard anybody. They must have been in a car, or behind a hedge waiting or me. I knew I was outnumbered so I didn’t struggle.