A few years ago I hired on as gardener and resident handyman at Britain Acres. It was a sort of health-spa/medical clinic, very private and very upscale. Induction process was rather long and involved as I was shown the grounds, my living quarters, and briefed as to my daily duties. Numerous forms had to be filled out, as well as a rigorous physical examination series to be completed before I could officially start work. This induction period lasted several days, and during this time I became aware of the fact that all the doctors, technicians, everyone on staff here, were women. Later as I started making the rounds in my new job, I found the clientele to be mostly women. Women of all ages would come there every day for yoga class, exercise gym, swimming, or various medical treatments. Wow - I was beginning to think I had stumbled onto 'the captain's paradise'... That is until one day I was called to a meeting with the chief administrative physician, Dr. Sheila Kane.

I went to her office, took a seat, and after polite introductions, she began:

"Funny thing about nature," she said, fixing her gaze intently on me and demanding my full attention. "It's almost like pre-destination, the way everything is provided or made accessible to obtain the best conditions of survival for the species." I wondered what she was getting at. "In humans, the female reproductive system - the ovaries, uterus, the cervix are all internal, and for obvious reasons." I blinked, realizing she was focusing this little talk on sex organs. "Whereas the male genitalia are outside the body... the penis because of its purpose in planting the seed, but the testicles... why? Why should the very source, the place where sperm are manufactured, be hanging so totally vulnerable outside the body?"

I ventured a guess and said I'd heard it was to maintain a lower temperature.

"Yes that's one thing, but only part of the reason. The testes are also responsible for production of testosterone and other hormones, all of which in turn drive the libido. The sex drive, the desire, stems mainly from these secretions and in no way do they require a lower temperature."

I began to feel slightly uneasy.

"Furthermore, when a man has past his prime, when sperm motility has slowed and is no longer viable to cause pregnancy, his testicles continue to turn out the full amount of testosterone." She paused, looking at me with a strange compassion. "This is nature's way of displacing males who have outlived their usefulness - putting the old bulls out to pasture, so to speak."

I became more uneasy, wondering what her point was going to be.

"This unnecessary production of testosterone and sex drive hormones will cause, inevitably, an overall breakdown in health and well-being... which in most cases leads to an early death." She paused again letting it sink in.

"Our concern here at Britain Acres is to optimize health and enhance life in people. That includes all those who sign on to work here, such as yourself."

She got up from her desk and came around, looking me straight in the eye with that expression of gracious, tender-hearted concern.

"You see David, we have done considerable research on the life cycles of the human male as affected by the sexual reproductive system." She went over to a chart. "This graph shows the results of a study we did on over 1000 men who were in the age group 55 to 75." She picked up a pointer. "As you can see, the men who were castrated lived longer and in significantly better health than those who kept their balls." She pulled down another chart. "Each subject was studied thoroughly in great detail... Here you see a comparison of various stats, blood pressure, heart rate, reflexes, muscle tone, endurance, etc. It clearly shows the men who had been 'fixed' to be in far better condition." Then another chart. "This graph compares personal character as well as psychological well-being... and again you can see a marked improvement in the men who were, shall we say, 'harvested'."

She put down the pointer and moved slowly toward me as she spoke.

"David, I truly believe this is what nature intended in the first place..." She came closer. "And there's a lot of evidence to back up my theory... besides the fact that the balls hang outside the body so easily pluck-able, we have found, believe it or not, in every single case the man (or should I say the patient) becomes sexually aroused when faced with his own castration!"

She stood squarely in front of me, proud, almost arrogant.

"Oh yes believe it. When a man knows he's about to be snipped, he automatically gets a full erection and often times he will ejaculate spontaneously without any touching whatsoever." She looked down at the bulge in my pants and said, "See what I mean?" I turned beet red. And for the first time I was afraid of my own desires.

She then squatted on her heels in front of me, her skirt slipped above her knees.

"Relax David, you're in good hands, honey..." My erection grew and throbbed noticeably a couple times. I began to feel queasy, as if I were going to pass out. With dry throat I said, "Uh... I... I don't know... are you suggesting...?" stammering shakily.

She gently put her hands on my thighs and spoke softly, "Easy big guy, nothing's gonna happen before its time." Lightly massaging my legs she said, "We want only the best for you. And when I've fully explained and outlined the entire process, I'm sure you will agree - it's the best decision."

The sick uneasy feeling in my stomach now solidified into pure dread as my hard-on twitched uncontrollably.

"We have a great deal of experience in gelding men, and over the years we've developed new methods of performing the operation." I saw a glint of pride in her eye. "Not only have we embraced the erotic aspects, but we've successfully designed a new instrument - a device which does the cutting with little or no blood, and the pain level is so low, there's no need for an anesthetic!" Her tone was becoming enthusiastic. "It's very simple, two flat surgical clamps which rotate on a common axis, and a blade which swings in between... the blade edge is so sharp, only a few molecules thick, you can barely feel the snip."

I winced as I tried to picture it, and to my astonishment, drops of precum were showing thru my pants.

"The surgery is conducted like a ritual, an erotic ceremony held in a medical theater. Interns and ladies on staff here will sit in the gallery as observers - and believe you me, they will wait in line hoping for a front row seat." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She stared at the wet spot on the tent in my trousers and added, "Even the surgeon (I'm hoping that'll be me) and her assistants in the operating room will be unavoidably horny... but we have to tend to business - that's the first priority." Dumbstruck, I listened on. "But I must confess, many is the time I've had an orgasm as the freshly cut scrotal pouch drops into my waiting palm... warm and heavy, sometimes the orbs are still moving, trying to retreat back to their abdominal pockets... Oh my, what a moment! The sexual intensity is beyond anything you could imagine."

My mind drifted in a trance-like state, surrendering to the visualization of this strange scenario.

"Picture a room full of women, qualified medical specialists, all in various stages erotic ecstasy, gushing delirious in orgasm after orgasm caused by watching you having your jewels removed." Some part of me tried to protest, yet I sat there agape in silent amazement, blue steel boner still twitching.

"David, I know you secretly want it, and you can be sure I want it... Oh honey, I would SO love to nut you. And that goes for all the girls on staff here at Britain Acres... in fact, I've already had several inquiries from nurses wanting to know if and when your big date is going to happen."

Overwhelmed, I started to spin into unconsciousness but then snapped back awake as her massage shifted to my inner thighs, firmly pinching and squeezing around as if sampling fresh fruit at a farmer's market. My straight-up stiffy kept throbbing, straining against the thin cotton fabric. I remembered being instructed to wear these particular pants with no underwear for this meeting with Dr. Kane. Now I knew why - she wanted visible signs of my arousal so there would be no doubt, a sort of physical confirmation.

Then satisfied that I was in the proper state of mind, she stood up, moved back toward her desk and began to tell me about her personal history.

"I have always been fascinated by the testicles. From an early age I was so intrigued I would go out of my way to get a good look... Every time I was lucky enough to gaze upon a real live set of bulls balls, I became more and more enraptured, totally mesmerized by the allure of these sensual hanging jewels. I wanted to feel them, roll them in my hands. I witnessed my first castration when I was 12 at my uncle's farm. My aunt Clara grasped and pulled a stallions balls as Uncle Walter applied the burdizzo... The horse kicked and snorted as he clamped hard with both hands, but it was soon over and Aunt Clara let go, the balls flopping to rest in numbness. As I walked back to the house I noticed my crotch was wet with excitement."

"From then on I was hooked. An eager observer at every kind of castration, I'd always get that tingly feeling which would often lead me to my room for a blissful sexual release." I sat transfixed, listening to her story. "In med school I studied every course on male sexology available... even did a thesis on human castration, during which I discovered this naughty little fact that men get erotically turned on by the idea."

Again I could see the enthusiasm in her eyes. Her chest swelled with pride, her nipples hard and erect under her blouse.

"As an intern I took part many times at St. John's Hospital assisting in orchidectomy surgery on men who needed it for one reason or another - injury, illness, etc." She got her desk chair and sat in front of me, crossing her legs. "At the pre-surgery interviews these boys couldn't help getting turned on... I always noticed a growing lump under the bedcovers or hospital gown." She paused, as if she was feeling me out for my reaction. "Then when I had gained enough experience and felt qualified in the procedure, I put out an ad that I would do castrations privately... Well, you wouldn't believe how many applicants there were!"

"Some men wanted it because they hated their balls or wanted to be a woman, some wanted it purely for the erotic thrill. And who was I to refuse? These guys were volunteering to let me cut them in any way I chose! Oh boy... I got off royally, did I ever! I especially loved watching the little dance they did at the moment I cut the cords... shooting jets across the room, rapt in the most intense pain and pleasure they've ever had - Oh My God..." She blushed, her eyes distant. "More often than not, I'd be squirting and squirming myself, lost in the big 'O' right along with the guy."

She sat back breathing heavily a few seconds, then composing herself she leaned forward looking me straight in the eye.

"Now David, I want you to know I'm telling you this in total honesty. I'm letting you see my innermost secret motivations. I love nutting men, it's my passion. And I'm good at it. Probably the best in the world. Surely the sexiest." With that she reached forward and took my package in hand saying, "Won't you give me this most precious gift? Please honey. It's the best thing for you. I'll make it so good... you won't be sorry. C'mon now baby, it's time."

I was on the verge of orgasm, ready to explode. She released her grip, sliding her hands back along my thighs.

"All I need is an okay from you, then we can start the preparation. First, we need to save a complete series of semen samples - to preserve your DNA so your heredity line is not lost. That will take several weeks. A nurse will visit you and collect a sperm sample at regular intervals - every three to six days, depending. This will go on until we have 12 or 13 good samples - a 'bakers dozen' as they say. Then when everything is approved, we're ready for the final approach."

I listened totally aghast, stupefied. Feeling at the same time as if I was on the brink of the 'spontaneous ejaculation' she had described.

"In Final Week, we prepare you thoroughly in all ways, physically as well as psychologically. You will be groomed, bathed, shaved until squeaky clean inside and out. Plus a daily study course to offer moral support and personal strength - you will dig it!"

To my amazement I actually thought I would.

"When we are sure you are ready, then and only then, you will have your big day. Either strapped to a special table or in a suspension harness, you'll be fully awake for the entire operation. The ceremony will begin with you naked in restraints as the observers file in. Each lady will introduce herself and say a few words, maybe to express her gratitude or her reasons for wanting to watch."

Again I was turned on, even though I dreaded it.

"Once everyone has filed in and taken her seat in the gallery, the surgical team will enter and begin. There will be at least two assistants for the doctor, plus a designated sex-provider to make double sure you are at the peak of arousal. She may touch you, straddle you, pose for you, sit on your face, whatever is necessary. In any case she will insure that you have the hard-on of your life for the entire proceedings. Especially at the moment when the blade is closed and your twitching bulging little pouch falls free into the doctor's hand. And as you're dancing and bucking uncontrollably, shooting spasms of magnificent white lava all over the place, you can rest assured every lady will be in the throes of orgasm - Not a dry pussy in the house."

Picturing this was all it took to push me over the edge. I felt the contractions coming from way down deep as I lost control, spurting copious white globs into my cotton trousers. It seemed to go on forever. And she held on to my hips watching, taking in every detail.

At that moment I knew with total certainty... I would give my okay.

---------------- to be continued --------------------