Wife's Game

My Hubby never was very good in bed but he was a sensitive guy that was attentive to my needs. He was also a very good provider as he was a junior partner in a prominent law firm. That started my brain to click. I had the goods on him, I could conceivable reduce this guy to my unconditional slave.

You see, I was a member of a prestigious ladies country club that held regular meeting twice a week. It was a set schedule that normally never deviated. However, one evening the chairwoman’s daughter was sick so we adjourned early. I drove home to find my Hubby’s Lexus already in the yard. That was unusual as he normally got home after me. I didn’t really think anything about it at the time, so I used my key and let myself into the house. It was totally quite other than someone’s voice coming from our bedroom. I thought my Hubby must have been on the phone so I went on up. When I opened the bedroom door I was in for the surprise of my life. There I discovered my Hubby on his knees masturbating while wearing my panties and giving some naked man a blowjob. We all just stared at each other in shock for a few moments. Then it just came out and I said without thinking, “Oh my God! You’re a queer.”

I stepped back out the door and closed it behind me before walking down to the kitchen. I needed to sit down. I poured myself a glass of wine and took a seat at the table to think. At first I was heart broken, and then I was angry. Then it hit me, opportunity.

About that time, my Hubby came slipping sheepishly into the kitchen dressed in a housecoat and slippers. It was obvious he did not know what to say and was waiting for me to explode. Instead, I got up and walked over to him without a word. I could see by his expression that he thought I was going to come up and slap his face. He was really surprised when I reached out and opened the bottom of his housecoat to see that he was still wearing my pink lace panties. “You actually look good in those.” I said as I slid them down and took his limp little cock in my hand. I began beating the soft shaft just as I have seen him doing upstairs.

“You aren’t angry?” He asked like a whimpering little puppy that was being petted rather than scolded after a bad deed.

That was when I began lying through my teeth. “No, I’ve suspected it for years. If a guy can’t do women there is only one thing left. Of course, if a woman has a husband who can’t do women then she has only one alternative left, a lover.”

“You have a lover?” My Hubby was now the one who was stunned.

“Well duh, you didn’t really think I had gone without sex since you went flaccid. It wasn’t your fault you went impotent from medication. I just made the necessary adjustments as you did. But now Hun, we’re going to make a few more adjustments cause I got you right where I want you,” I said as I slid my other hand in to grasp his balls to squeeze as I said, “by the balls.”

He grabbed my arms but I squeezed even harder. He was obviously experiencing a slight bit of pain as he asked, “What do you mean?”

“What would the guys at your office think if they knew you were impotent and suck cock?” I teased.

“You wouldn’t! I would lose my partnership!” He was beginning to grovel before I even finished my sentence. I thought to myself, “What a sissy! I guess it is my penitence for finding a guy at the country club.”

“I might be willing to keep silent and even play along. It doesn’t bother me a bit that you are gay, but I need some assurance you won’t replace me with some young stud. I want more than money. I want the money and these!” I taunted as I squeezed his little balls even harder. I wanted total control over him and our financial assets. I continued after a second, “You know I would get our assets in a divorce settlement, so just indulge me and we can both have some fun with our new lives. You would be completely safe from being discovered. I would be there to prove any accusation to be wrong.”

“Alright, I will draw up a contract giving you the house and property and half our portfolio in return for your support. However, you get nothing if you expose me or divorce me. Would that be sufficient?” He was again groveling hoping I would just agree.

"Only if you'll let me nut you!" I said smiling.

“Nut me! You mean castrate me?” He said with hesitation.

“That’s exactly what I mean. It’s better to be a wealthy married attorney in a major firm than a washed out divorced gay man working divorce cases in a shopping center office. Isn’t it? It’s your choice. Only your lovers, you, and I will know you are a gay eunuch.” I said resolutely. “It’s not like you are using them anyway. You will never miss them. It just gives me something to allow me to be sure of our mutual tie and loyalty.”

“How would you do it?” He whimpered.

“You know I was a surgical RN before we married. It’s easy. You won’t feel a thing. I know exactly where to get what I will need.” I reassured him.

“Alright, but you sign the contract first.” He acted as if he would win some victory by having my name on the dotted line.

“Well, I guess so. I guess that would be fair.” I played along. He was an excellent corporate attorney, but he was ignorant in many other areas, medicine was one of them.

The next evening he came in with his briefcase filled with contracts spelling out exactly what our agreement entailed and exactly what we would each get in every conceivable incident should we decide to tell the tale or separate. True to an attorney’s nature he sat and explained each paragraph to consume hours.

Eventually, I just took the contracts and began signing until I completed them all. When I laid down the pen, I pulled out my black leather bag and opened it, “Now it’s my turn. Strip and lay on the kitchen table.”

He was still a bit hesitant, so I gave him an injection of liquid valium. Within a few minutes his inhibition was gone and he stripped saying he had actually fanaticized about being castrated for being a queer. I took hold to his limp little wiener to lead him to his neutering while telling him that if it was already a fantasy then he was going to absolutely love the reality.

Once on the table, I beat his limp wiener until it began to feel really good but stopped short of letting him cum. Next, I gave him an injection of sodium amatol and placed him in la-la land. With him sedated, I placed a scalpel over one of the stove’s gas eyes to heat. I strapped his ankles to the edges of the table to ensure he did not jerk away, and then I went to work. I injected a large amount of local anesthetic to minimize bleeding before I pulled down his scrotum and used a scalpel to remove the bottom third, which is standard procedure for castrating a bull or horse. With the entire bottom removed, the remainder retracted upwards and allowed both his testicles to drop out. I made the cut through the inner sack and allowed it to retract to leave the two testicles suspended only by their cords. At that point, I used a potholder to take the red-hot scalpel from the stove to cut and cauterize the cords to both his testicles. The lengthiest portion of the procedure was stitching both the inner and outer sacks without allowing blood to seep into other tissue. He was still going to have a very bruised crotch area, but as minimal as possible.

When I finished, I rolled him around enough to place on him the same pair of pink panties of which he was so fond. I completed his preparation by inserting a panty liner to catch any further bleeding. Afterwards, I sat and sipped wine waiting for the sodium amatol to wear off so I could help him to bed. It was a long wait.

He was really woozy when he finally did arouse enough to be helped to bed. It was good that he weighed less than I. Sodium amatol is one of the drugs used as a truth serum by some agencies, so I took full advantage of the situation. It was interrogation time.

He didn’t seem a bit hesitant to divulge any and all information about anything he knew. He would have been so embarrassed if he had known about the micro tape recorder in my lab coat pocket. First of all, I made him give me the number to his Swiss bank account. Secondly, I made a list of all his gay lovers. Then finally, I questioned him about all of the major corporate accounts where he had assisted in hiding money from the Feds in order to evade taxes and have it appear they had made less profit than actual. It was then that I discovered that they were actually fudging on many accounts to show an increased profit rather than actual to allow them to rake off more profit for the executive bonuses and pass the cost down to the consumer in the form of inflated pricing of the goods and services provided. Less profit, prices go up. More profit, prices go up. It was a much more lascivious business than I ever imagined possible. No wonder he made such a large salary with bonuses.

I wanted more, but eventually he dozed to sleep. I lay there beside him and became highly aroused as I peered at his testicles inside a specimen jar filled with formaldehyde where I had placed them after injecting them full of the preserving chemical. His balls were to be my trophy for years to come while he served me as a queer eunuch slave rather than a husband. The very thought of it prompted me to take my ample clit between my fingers and rub myself to a bed wetting orgasm of immense proportions that put me to sleep beside my new eunuch.

The next morning, I awoke first to check his pad. He awoke as I viewed my work. “I’m sort of sore, but it really doesn’t hurt very bad.”

“I have bottles of Vicodin and Valium for that.” I said as I rolled over and took the bottles to open them and hand him the pills. I got the water for him to take the pills along with a Valium. He was nice and serene for the next week while I took care of him like a little baby. He was so doped up he even sucked my titty when prompted. I guess being gay was a choice that the drugs made him forget.

He learned to play games over the next couple of years, his empty sack and limp cock were my playthings and I loved it. We experimented with rubber bands and pins. I used to whack his ass with a wooden paddle if he didn't obey my every command. That was really erotic for me, cause all the time he really wanted a cock, not a bitch using him as a slave. It is funny how docile guys become after the testosterone leaves their body. Believe me, he suffered all my innate female anger toward the males of our species.

Sex for him became giving my boyfriends a blowjob when commanded or maybe occasionally bending over for anal, but my favorite was making him sit and watch as I took a real man’s cock into my vagina. After my sex with a man, I would regularly show him his nuts in my jar and tell him how good it was to get it from a man who still had what it took to be a man. Of course, by that time the sight of a naked woman didn’t seem to affect him. The sight of naked femininity repulses some gay guys. To my eunuch Hubby it was equated to looking at a refrigerator, it was just something he had to keep around. It’s really strange what not having nuts will do.