PenOff - Part 3

Chapter 3

By the time winter was underway, it had been slightly more than six months since that fateful night when I'd sat down at the computer. We were now comfortable with the roles our fantasy had assigned to us, and in many ways it was becoming less and less of a fantasy. We openly discussed how our lives would change after my modification, and with no hesitation or reluctance searched the Internet together to find even more material to add to Kathy's folder.

It was after one of those surfing sessions that we were idly talking while lying in bed after particularly good shared orgasms. We were basking in the afterglow, as it were, with neither ready for sleep. Kathy remarked in an offhand manner, "You've become a pretty good cunt eater. It's a skill that not many men have, according to what I've read. So many of them are interested in their own orgasms, and they never have the patience to take the time to do it right."

I was pleased at her words, and thanked her. Her next statement, though, caused me more than a little surprise, and then a twinge of jealousy. She said, "Hank is better at cunnilingus than you, but of course he's had more practice since his dick was cut off. His tongue is much larger than yours, too. Roxy thinks it's a compensation his body has made because of his lack of a penis. I hope yours grows like that after I do you."

I was taken aback for several seconds by what she had implied, but finally worked up the courage to ask, "Has Hank eaten your pussy?" In the glow of the nightlight, I could see her smiling. She said, "You caught that, huh? I was wondering if you would. To answer your question: Yes, he ate me out when I was back there on my vacation. It was so good that I just couldn't get enough of his tongue. I stayed overnight there twice, and he was between my legs most of the time. Does that make you jealous?"

I considered her question for awhile, then replied, "I guess it does, a little. Isn't it natural that I'd be jealous of another man doing that to you?"

She smiled again, then said, "It's hardly natural, if that's what you mean. Jealousy is supposedly based on the male wanting to be assured that all children borne by his wife are really his. Surely Hank couldn't be seen as a threat, since he's no longer a man and able to get me pregnant. Don't you agree?"

Again I paused before answering, finally saying, "I guess you're right on that score, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept. Don't you think he'd be jealous if I did it to his wife?"

She replied quickly, "Not in the least. Roxy has a steady stream of men who service her, and Hank just watches until it's time for him to perform his cleanup duties. I'm expecting you to be the same way."

That statement did indeed freeze me, and I was unable to reply for a long time. At last I asked, "Do you mean that you plan to have affairs with other men after my penectomy? I guess that's probably understandable, but how can you expect me to just sit there and watch?" At the same time I was asking those questions, I was also experiencing a tightness in my chest that I recognized as the beginning of sexual arousal. I had never before thought of watching my wife have sex with another man, but now that she had broached the subject, I had to admit that I found it just a tiny bit exciting.

She answered, "Yes, I plan to have other men in my bed when you're no longer able to perform as a man. As for you sitting there and watching, yes, I expect you'll want to do that too. Hank obviously finds it exciting to watch his wife being fucked, and when it's time for him to lick her clean, he's as eager as a starving puppy. Are you saying that you plan to keep me a virgin after your little thing is gone?"

My confusion was almost overwhelming by then. I was torn between feelings of jealousy and excitement, and my traitorous penis, which was beginning to harden once again, betrayed my real opinion to her. She looked at the stiffening thing, smiled and said, "You'll do it when the time comes, won't you? You're getting turned on right now just thinking about it. You really and truly want to watch another man's cock servicing me, in a way you'll no longer be able to. Come on, admit it. You're getting hard just thinking about it, aren't you?"

I had to admit that it was arousing to think about such a thing, but that I hoped it'd be a long time in the future. That seemed to lead her to a new thought, and she shifted gears by saying, "You know, there's something else we need to talk seriously about. We're always saying 'when' you have your penectomy, and talking about all the various ways for me to do it to you. I think we need to actually set a time frame for getting it done, and to decide how I'll do it. Don't you?"

Again I was taken aback by the conversation. Not only was I being asked to accept that my wife would be fucking other men, and requiring me to lick her clean afterwards, but now I had to actually pick the when and how for my penectomy. I cleared my throat several times, trying to begin.

When she saw that I was unable to hold up my end of the conversation, Kathy said, "I marked the date on the calendar when I was gone, and you first became familiar with the idea of having a penectomy. Surely a year of knowing I'm going to cut your cock off is long enough to accept the fact. Why don't we tentatively plan to do it next May, on the Saturday night that falls the closest to the actual date you first looked in my folder? Would that be okay?"

That only served to further increase my confusion. To say that I had accepted my penectomy was one thing, but to actually mark a date on the calendar when it would happen was quite another. Finally I was able to stammer out, "Is there really any hurry? Surely we don't have to do it according to some schedule, do we?"

She laughed at my obvious confusion, then said, "You big ninny! Waiting a year certainly can't be considered hurrying. There are lots of things you need to be trained to do when you're no longer a real man, and I want to get started on them. When I saw the things Hank does to serve Roxy, I wanted the same from you so bad that I could hardly stand it. I don't see any reason at all to wait more than a year. You need to make up your mind as to which one of us is in charge here. If you don't want to be my husband, then just say so."

That was devastating to me, and my face must have mirrored my emotions. Kathy pulled me to her and held me tightly, comforting me with her closeness. At last she said, "We both want this to happen. You want me to cut off your cock, and I want to do it for you. Surely there's no need to drag it out, is there?"

I was finally able to say softly, "No. I know it has to be done. It's just that I'd never thought it would be so soon. If you want to do it to me next May, then that's when it'll be done. You know how very much I want it, and I know how very much you want to do it. We'll mark the calendar tomorrow morning."

That seemed to please her a lot, and she once again hugged me to her and kissed me. She praised me for being so brave about it, and told me that it would be the most exciting thing either of us had ever done. She said that when my severed penis hit the floor, she expected to have the most satisfying orgasm of her whole life, and she would love me more than ever for giving it to her.

She then said, "How shall we do it? We've seen and read about lots of ways that others have used, but we need to select the method that's right for us. What do you think?"

By then I was resigned to my fate, if not actually eager. I answered, "I had always kind of thought you'd use a guillotine, like in your story. The more I think of how much trouble it'd be to build such a thing, and find a place to set it up, and then try to dispose of it afterwards, the more I wonder if it's the right choice.

She mused, "Yes, I suppose it would be a difficult project for you to put together. You could always assemble it in the spare bedroom. Surely the thing wouldn't be too large to fit in there, would it?" I told her that it would fit just fine, as long as the pieces were brought in one at a time. Then I said, "But what about afterwards? We certainly wouldn't have any need to keep it around here, and then we'd have the problem of disposing of it."

She laughed softly, then said, "As for disposing of it, that would be no problem whatsoever. Since I developed such an interest in your penectomy, I've run across woman after woman who would want to be in line to use the guillotine after we're through with it. You have no idea how many of us want to cut off our husband's cocks. You surely didn't think the whole thing started when Lorena Bobbit did her husband, did you? I read in the newspaper just a few days ago that women in Southeast Asia have been doing that to their men for centuries, and still are at the rate of hundreds per day. It may not be so widespread here, but I guarantee there would be no shortage of interested parties."

I wasn't convinced about that, but was willing to accept her evaluation. It seemed to me that the problem of privacy would be foremost in getting rid of the guillotine once Kathy had used it on me. I certainly didn't intend to advertise the fact that I no longer had a cock, and I hoped that she wouldn't either.

I thought the time was right to ask a question that had been really bothering me for quite awhile, and said, "Is Hank still able to have orgasms?" That simple question went right to the heart of the matter, as far as I was concerned, and I had been worrying about it quite a bit.

Kathy replied, with amusement in her voice, "Sounds like someone's been worrying. You mean you'd still like to be able to get your rocks off afterwards?" When I nodded my head, she continued, "Don't worry about that. Roxy still allows Hank to cum when he's been good, and I'll do the same for you. The big difference will be that you won't be able to play with yourself all the time, like you do now. If you please me, then I'll give you an orgasm. That's all there is to it."

That didn't put my mind entirely at ease, so I asked quietly, "Do you mean I won't be able to cum all on my own?"

Again she smiled, then answered, "I suppose it would be possible, but it hasn't worked that way with Hank, at least. Most of the nerve endings that cause you to get hot, and then shoot your jism, are in your penis. When it's gone, those nerves will be gone also. Roxy has to help Hank cum, and I suppose I'll have to do it with you in the same way."

The seemed to end the matter for her, but it certainly didn't for me. After some hesitation, I asked, "How will you do it?"

She acted slightly exasperated, but then apparently decided to satisfy my curiosity. "Roxy uses a device that she heard about during her career as a nurse. Apparently the thing was developed for use in fertility clinics, to collect sperm from men who are totally impotent. It's about the size of a pack of cigarettes, and has a cord that plugs into the wall socket. There are two wires coming out of the other end. One of them has a metal probe about the size of a pencil, and it's pushed up the man's ass until it hits his prostate gland. The other wire has some sort of rubber band with a metal contact in it. The band is placed around the guy's balls."

"Roxy didn't like the band, though, so she had Hank make a modification to that part. She bought an oversized alligator clip and had him solder it in place of the band, and whenever she wants to use the thing on him, she just snaps the clip on his balls. He acts like it hurts, but it's really no big deal to Roxy, since she can't feel it." She actually laughed then, but it took some effort on my part to even smile.

"When the dial on the thing is adjusted to the proper voltage, electricity flows through his crotch, and he starts to cum, even if he can't get a hardon. I'm going to get one of the things from Roxy, and if you earn an orgasm, then I'll give you one. Anything else?"

I said that had answered my question, and thanked her. At that point in my life, my brain seemed to find sexual arousal in nearly everything, and Kathy's explanation was no exception. As I visualized her sticking the probe up my ass, and then snapping the alligator clip in place on my balls, my damned cock started to fill once again. More and more, it seemed that Kathy's solution for my "little problem" was the only answer to teach the worthless thing some discipline.

As we settled for sleep, I recalled one other thing she'd said earlier in our conversation. I asked, "What are the other things that Hank does to serve Roxy, and that you want me to do for you?" It took her a few seconds to understand my question, but then she whispered softly in my ear, "All in good time, my love. I can tell you that it involves your mouth, and it's another type of service, but that's all I'll say now. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow is a work day."

Once again she fell into a deep sleep as I lay there with my mind in turmoil. The date had now been set for my appointment with one cutting edge or another. In less than six months, when I reached down to my crotch, something would be missing. Something that had been my constant companion all my life. I knew how much I'd miss it, so decided to take that opportunity to give it a little pleasure. My hand slowly crept lower, and was soon lovingly stroking its favorite target.

____________________

Nothing of note happened until Christmas Eve, when we traditionally exchanged gifts. As we sat on the couch, she handed my present to me, and I gave her the one I'd selected only a few days before. I had agonized over the choice, and finally had selected that one.

She said, "You unwrap yours first. I just know you're going to love it." I carefully removed the string and bow, and then the wrapping paper. Inside was a fancy box from a ladies wear shop in our city, and I assumed that Kathy had found that box to be the correct size for my present, and that was why it had been used. Imagine my surprise when I opened the box and saw three items of clothing there.

All were bright pink, with the first being a pair of sheer, frilly panties. The second was a frilly, very sheer nightgown. The third was a pair of bunny slippers. Thinking this was to be some sort of joke, I looked questioningly at my wife. She laughed at the expression on my face, then said, "They're for you to wear next May, silly. You'll no longer be a man, so you shouldn't be sleeping in a man's pajamas. Don't you think they're lovely?"

I'm sure my face blushed bright red at the thought of wearing such things, but I could see that Kathy was serious. That was confirmed when she said, "You're to wear those things when I bring another man to my bed. That way he'll know that you're not a real man, and no competition for him." Again my face blushed as I thought of a man seeing me wearing such things. I knew, though, that if my wife required it of me, then I would be wearing her presents.

She had by that time started unwrapping the present I'd given her. I was anxious to see her reaction to the gift, and was pleased to see the broad smile on her face when she looked lovingly at me. She said softly, "They're wonderful, honey. Thank you so very much for choosing them. It's what I've wanted all along."

She then took the gift out of the box and held it up for me to admire, although I'd been the one to select it at our store, and then to gift wrap it. What she was holding before me was a pair of hedge clippers, or garden shears, if you will. The two large wooden handles were connected to two blades that were about 16" long, and the whole thing looked like a very large pair of scissors. She knew immediately their intended purpose, and also knew that I'd finally made my choice.

She laid the shears on the coffee table, then pulled me to her. With a misting of tears in her eyes, she said, "You must have known all along what I wanted to use on you. I've wanted to do you just like in our favorite video, but I didn't want to sway your decision. I should've known we'd be on the same wavelength on something so important." She then very lovingly caressed the handles of the shears, and said again how wonderful they were.

She then asked, "Are you going to build an X-beam to hold yourself in place while I use the shears? I could always tie you across the kitchen table, but somehow the other way seems lots more sexy, don't you think?" I told her that I'd already done the planning for the X-beam, and that it would be fastened to the wall in the spare bedroom. When the time came for her to secure me in place, the thing should serve very nicely to make sure I couldn't get away.

Although I said the last words with a smile on my face, I could see her immediate concern. She anxiously asked, "Is there any question of you trying to get away? Surely you wouldn't do that, would you?" I assured her that it was just a figure of speech, and that when the time came, she'd find me just as eager as she, and I'd probably be urging her to hurry up with the ropes so she could get started with the shears.

She laughed at that, then said, "Roxy said that Hank was anxious also. I don't understand it, but I'll certainly take advantage of it."

That statement puzzled me, and I asked, "What do you mean, he was 'anxious'? You mean he was just glad to have the cancer cut away?"

It took her a moment to understand my question, and then she said quietly, "That part about Hank's cancer was just a way to introduce the subject. He never had any sort of problem with his penis. It was quite healthy when Roxy cut it off him. I'm sorry if I misled you, but I just couldn't think of any other way to get us to talking about it."

I told her there was certainly no need to apologize to me for a little white lie like that. In fact, I said, I had been wracking my brain for some way to get us talking about the subject, just as she had. The fact that she'd achieved that goal before I only made me love her all the more.

Once again we hugged, secure in our love for one another. After a pause, I asked, "How did she cut his off? Was it something fancy?"

She laughed again, then said, "Far from it. I think you know she's been a surgical nurse for the past five years, so she'd had lots of experience along those lines. She certainly knew how to use a scalpel, at any rate, as well as how to treat wounds. About two months before their date, she started bringing home supplies a few at a time. When the fateful night arrived, she tied him across their kitchen table, and simply cut it off him. After she'd repaired the wound, she made him take his penis outside and feed it to their dog. Not terribly romantic, is it?"

I broke into laughter at the thought of Hank standing at the door watching their dog chewing and swallowing what used to be his penis. Kathy looked momentarily startled, then joined in. Soon we were hugging each other and trying to regain our breath.

As the moment passed, a more serious thought occurred to me, and I asked, "What do you have planned for mine? We don't have a dog." She smiled, then answered, "I've been thinking about that for a long time now. Do you remember those wooden plaques we have at the store that deer hunters use for mounting antlers?" I nodded my head and she continued, "Well, I think it would be very appropriate for you to mount your little dingus on one of those and then cover it with several coats of the urethane finish that's in the paint department. It would then be my trophy. What do you think?"

I told her that I thought her idea was just perfect. However, I suggested that I should dip the thing in a product we sold that was a liquid plastic intended to preserve artwork. It was quite a bit thicker, and should better serve to keep her trophy in good condition for many years to come. When I said that it would probably outlast the two of us, she broke into immediate gales of laughter.

When she was finally able to explain her merriment, she said, "I was just thinking of the expression on the faces of the people who clean out the house after we die. Not many people find a trophy like that, I'll bet." She again broke into laughter, and this time I joined in. On that note, we went to bed, and I'll leave the rest of that night's events up to your imagination.

__________________

There is one last thing worth mentioning before I end this story, and it happened on a Sunday afternoon about two months before the fateful date so prominently marked on our calendar.

We were sitting close together on the couch again, watching something on TV after lunch, when the telephone rang. Kathy answered the cordless phone setting on the coffee table in front of us while I muted the audio from the television. I heard her say, "Oh, hi sweetie. Hang on a minute while I go in the kitchen to talk to you." Without saying anything to me she stood and walked to the kitchen.

I freely admit that I was curious about the call, and when she addressed the caller as "sweetie", my first thought was that she was already lining up men for her threatened bedroom visits. I left the audio muted and listened intently to her side of the conversation, which went fairly close to what I've written below.

"How is everything with you guys?"

"Oh, good. Is his tongue still as good as ever? I sure wish I had it here."

"Yes, I've been meaning to either write or call you about that, but just keep putting it off. We've been pretty busy at the store, but that's no excuse. Sorry I didn't call you first, but I'm glad that you didn't forget about me."

"We're going to do it the last Saturday in May. Yes, that's right. Does that work for you?"

"Great! I certainly wouldn't think of doing it without you here to supervise. You should plan on coming a couple of days before, so you can see what a good job I've done in training his tongue. He'll probably never be as good as Hank, but at least he's a close second."

"Oh, just whatever medical supplies you think we'll need. What else did you have in mind?"

"You're kidding! Would that cause any permanent damage? I mean to the rest of him, not his little thingie. There's no reason to care about it anymore, is there?"

"Yes, yes, yes! I'd love to see that! God, it makes me all wet just to think about it! Have you used it on anyone else?"

"Yeah, I know. Once it's gone, it's gone. Kind of makes you wish he'd grow another one, doesn't it?"

"Oh, if only they could! That would be the definition of a perfect man, wouldn't it? Just think of all the fun we could have if it'd grow back in about six months. There's no end of the possibilities for fun and games."

"Okay. We'll expect you then. I can't wait to see you again, sweetie. Thanks so much for calling. Bye."

When Kathy returned to the couch, my curiosity was at a fever pitch, as you can imagine. She told me that it was Roxy who had called, and of course I'd already guessed that much. When I casually asked what they'd talked about, she said, "Oh, she just wanted to know if we'd set a date yet for your penectomy. I told her when I was going to do it, and she said she'd be here with bells on. I don't think I told you that she's going to be my assistant, sort of, when I do you. I'll feel a lot better about it if her medical training is here with me, won't you?"

I agreed that it was probably a good idea to have her cousin here, although in my heart I was uneasy about having another person, especially a woman who was essentially a stranger to me, present at such an intensely personal time. When I asked what else they'd talked about, hoping she'd tell me what Roxy was going to bring that had excited her so much, all she would say was, "Oh, nothing much. Just working out some details, is all."

It was obvious that she wasn't going to tell me what Roxy had that might cause "permanent damage", and I knew from past experience that it would do no good to continue questioning her. My wife can be quite stubborn when she sets her mind to it, and I resolved to let it pass for now, but try to gain small clues in the days to come. If it were something that truly excited Kathy, then I was sure she'd drop little hints.

Her conversation with her cousin reminded me of another question I wanted to ask, so I took that opportunity to do so. "How did Roxy and Hank become interested in the idea of his penectomy? I mean, it's probably not the usual sort of thing that husbands and wives discuss over dinner." We both smiled at the images that brought to mind, and she took a few seconds to gather her thoughts before offering her answer.

"I think it was about five years ago, on one of my visits there, that Roxy and I had a late-night 'girl talk' about how our lives were going. I don't think that we were drunk, but we'd had enough wine to drink to make us pretty mellow. She was talking about her job at the hospital, and the other nurses she knew there. I really don't know how the subject came up, but somehow she was telling me about an older nurse who is a good friend of hers. Roxy said the other woman and she shared lots of confidences, and during one of their night shifts, when everything was quiet at the hospital, their talk turned to their relationships with their husbands."

"The older woman told Roxy, just out of the blue, that she had decided to give her husband a penectomy to settle him down. Apparently he'd been running around on her, and she was tired of it. She knew that if he no longer had a penis, then no other woman would have anything to do with him, and he'd have no choice but to become a better husband to her."

"Roxy said she was shocked to be told such a thing, but she knew the idea was certainly not new to women. In fact, she had occasional fantasies about doing the same thing to Hank. I can tell you with certainty that very many women, and maybe all of them, have such thoughts on occasion. I know personally that I had daydreams every now and then about "fixing" you, and they were exciting to think about."

"The two nurses continued to talk about that subject over the weeks that followed, until one night the older woman told Roxy that she was going to do it to her husband that coming weekend. Roxy said she didn't actually believe it was going to happen, but as the woman gave more and more details about her plans, and then even invited her to be there to help, she came to accept that it was true. She said the more she thought about actually doing that to a man, the more excited she became. Finally she agreed to help out, and her friend told her when to arrive at the house."

"Roxy gave me lots of details about what they did to her friend's husband, and how very turned on she was during the entire time. She said her friend had slipped some sort of very strong tranquilizer in her husband's coffee, and then when he was beyond helping himself they had stripped him and tied him spreadeagle on the dining room table. They played with his penis to get it nice and hard, and then used surgical thread to tie it off at the base. Another thread was tied around it about 1/4" above the first, and then a scalpel was used to slice through the shaft between the threads."

"When the thing was cut free, they took turns fucking each other with his still-erect penis while he lay there and watched. Roxy said that was simply the most exciting thing she'd ever done, and it was right then that she knew Hank was next. However, she wanted the penectomy to be as much his idea as hers, so she started a campaign similar to the one I used with you."

"She 'accidentally' left a booklet describing penis surgery on the table where he'd be sure to see it, and then used that as a way to introduce the subject. It turned out that he'd been fantasizing about such a thing for much of his adult life. Roxy thinks that most men have one type or another of 'castration fantasy', and Hank was no exception."

"As soon as he knew she shared his fascination with cutting off his cock, they talked about it all the time. She said that it was less than six months after that time that he was actually begging her to do it to him. She still wasn't sure it was absolutely the right thing to do, but once she talked it over with her friend, and saw how the modified husband was now acting, she was convinced it was going to happen."

"You know the rest, I think. When the night came, she tied him across their table, gave him a shot of pain killer, shaved and swabbed him, and did the knife work. After she'd completed the repairs on his crotch, she sent him outside to feed the dog. End of story."

"In the year following when she told me how she'd done Hank, my occasional fantasies became almost an obsession. I'm sure you have no idea of the things I was thinking about doing to you. Every time we'd have sex, I imagined cutting off your little thing. Before long, it became the only way I could have orgasms, and I knew that it had become more than a fantasy, more than an obsession. It had become a necessity. That's when I began laying my plans."

She then looked directly at me and asked, "Do you think I'm a horrible, conniving woman for doing such a thing? Do you think I'm just awful for wanting to do such a thing to my own husband, and then plotting against you for so long?"

By that point in her narrative, I was very aroused. It was exciting enough to know that Kathy had been planning this for me for such a long time, while I was completely unaware. However, it was the image in my mind of the two woman fucking each other with the severed, still-erect penis that consumed me. I visualized me being tied to the X-beam, my newly-dickless crotch between my legs, and Kathy and Roxy taking turns shoving the thing in each other's pussies. I was sure that if her cousin had been there right then, I'd have begged her to not wait any longer to cut it off.

Finally I said, as sincerely as I could, "I think you're the most wonderful wife any man could have. There's no blame at all in your so-called 'plotting' against me. You probably instinctively knew just how much I'd share your desire to have my cock cut off, and so you just wanted to help me achieve that goal. Don't ever again feel any sort of guilt on that subject. I just wish you'd done it years ago. Think of all the time we've wasted in getting rid of my worthless little thing."

I then asked the question that was foremost in my mind. "Will you and Roxy use my cock after you remove it? You know, like she and her friend did?" Kathy smiled broadly, saying, "Darling husband, you can rest assured that we'll give it a good workout, both before and after I remove it. Don't you worry your pretty little head on that score. Roxy told me last year that she'll always regret not doing it that way with Hank's, and so I'm certainly not going to take any chances on having the same sort of regrets. Your little dingus will get more pussy after it's cut off than it ever did when it was attached to you."

She laughed, and I tried to join in, but the images that kept running through my fevered brain were simply too overwhelming to allow me to experience any sort of humor.

___________________

I want to end this narrative with an explanation of the reason I'm writing it. Kathy told me some time ago that one of her favorite Websites, and the one that had provided many of the stories she'd downloaded, was the Eunuch Archive. She gave me the assignment of writing the above, and then posting it on EA. She's hoping that other wives will read this, and gain the courage to actually do what so many of them secretly want to do. My wife thinks that the perfect role for a husband is that of provider of economic support first, and total and abject slave second. She's sure that many of my readers will agree wholeheartedly, and will begin to walk the path we have chosen if they can see that the option is there.

As I write this final paragraph, it is now 27 days until my appointment with the shears. The X-beam is in the beginning stages of construction, and will be completed at least a week in advance of its use. My wife ordered me to hone the shears until they're razor sharp, and I've already done that. There's nothing left to do, except wait and count the slowly passing days. I find that my eagerness increases as each number on the calendar is crossed off, as does Kathy's. It won't be long now. :)