GREENSLEEVES

Chapter 3

That question hit me with all the force of a body blow, and I tried to think of some way to deflect it.  I struggled with myself to not answer, but there seemed to be something within my brain that compelled me to reply honestly.  At last I stammered, "I..., I..., yes, I liked looking at it."  I knew my face was burning with shame then, and knew I deserved all the comtempt my wife felt for me.

Instead of showing any sort of anger or jealousy, she said simply, "I don't blame you.  It's very beautiful.  Did you wish she'd let you lick it, and suck her cum from it?"

Again I tried to hold my lips closed, but simply could not.  I heard my voice say, "Yes.  I wanted to do that more than I can say."  It seemed that each word I uttered made it more easy to utter the next.  It was obvious to me that Ellie wasn't angry, and seemed to actually approve of what I'd said.

She said dreamily, "That's certainly understandable.  I can't imagine anything could possibly taste better than her cunt.  When we were roommates in college, we used to spend hours in bed with my head buried between her legs.  Sometimes we'd even cut classes, since I just couldn't bear to not be eating her.  Of course, it helped that her head was between my legs at the same time."

There was no hint of embarrassment as she related that very personal story to me, and Glenda's nodding head seemed to indicate she felt the same way.  As I visualized the image of these two lovely women engaged in oral sex, my chest got so tight I thought I'd be unable to breathe.

Ellie continued her reminisces, looking at her friend fondly while saying, "God, I don't know why we didn't stay together.  I've thought of you almost every minute of every day.  I should have gone to Philadelphia with you, instead of moving out here to Portland because of the job offer."

Glenda replied softly, "I know what you mean, sweetheart.  I've never been with anyone who could make me feel the way you could.  It's as if we were meant for each other.  Being apart was almost more than I could bear, but it'll be better for us now.  I can't tell you how happy I am that you want to work with me.  We'll be together from now on, no matter what."

They were sitting beside one another, on the same side of the table, and as their eyes began to mist, they hugged and kissed like the long-separated lovers they were.  At last they moved apart, and Ellie looked at me with eyes filled with love, and I knew that love was for both her friend and me.  My brain kept telling me I should be jealous, but somehow that feeling wouldn't come.  I knew my wife's capacity for love was big enough for both of us, and having Glenda in our lives wouldn't diminish Ellie's love for me even by the smallest amount.

She took a couple of minutes to compose herself, then again looked at me and continued her questioning by asking, "Have you looked at other women's pussies?"

I swallowed to clear my throat, then said reluctantly, "Yes.  I looked at my secretary's pussy once."  She simply nodded, then told me to tell them all about it.  Again the words seemed to come more easily as I spoke, and I began, "I was sitting at my desk, with my office door open.  Samantha got up from her desk in the reception room and carried some papers to the file cabinet.  She leaned over to put them in the bottom drawer, and when her mini-skirt rode up, I saw she wasn't wearing panties."

My wife asked, "Did you like looking at her pussy?"  I nodded my head, but she wouldn't accept that and insisted I speak.  I did so by uttering a soft, "Yes.  I liked it very much."

She coaxed me further, asking, "What did you want to do when you saw her naked crotch?"

I answered, "I wanted to fall to my knees and worship her.  I wanted to lick and suck her pussy, and then I wanted her to order me to lick and suck her other opening."

Ellie showed no surprise at my admission, merely asked, "Do you think you'd like to suck a woman's butthole?  Does it turn you on to think of a woman sitting on your mouth, and feeding you from her body?"

Again my face burned with shame, but again I could't stop my mouth from uttering the damning words.  "Yes.  I like to think about that.  I always have."

She glanced at her friend and smiled before saying, "I'm glad you were honest with me, honey.  It makes me love you even more when you tell me things like that.  Maybe someday Glenda and I can help you with your fantasy about that being done to you.  She says that lots of men want women to do that to them, and it's nothing to be ashamed of.  It's easy to understand why you'd find it exciting.  I know when I think about doing that to you, it makes my pussy get really wet.  It's something we can look forward to, isn't it?"

There was no pause to indicate that the conversation was about to turn even more serious, and in truth I have to admit that my brain was so fuzzy it probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.  It was then that Ellie said, "Honey, Glennie and I have been dominating the conversation all day.  We'd like you to tell us lots more about yourself now.  We want you to tell us about your other fantasies.  I'm sure you have lots of them."

She paused long enough to be sure she had my full attention, then continued, "Glennie says that all men have what she calls 'castration fantasies.'  Do you have those?  You know, where you think about having your cock or balls cut off, or maybe everything being removed.  Tell us."

She stopped speaking and looked directly at me, waiting for my answer.  I felt somehow compelled to be completely honest with her, even though in the deepest recesses of my brain, a tiny voice was telling me to be quiet.  The compulsion finally won out, and I heard my voice saying, "Yes, I have fantasies about that.  I have for a long time.  It always gets me hot to think of being castrated, or of having my penis removed.  Sometimes I think about everything being cut off."

Ellie nodded and smiled before saying, "I found some magazines hidden in the garage a few years ago.  Did you put them there?"  After I nodded my answer, she continued, "There were lots of stories and pictures about castrations and penectomies in them.  Did you like reading those stories, and looking at the pictures?"  Again I nodded, although the tiny voice was trying its best to keep me from responding.

Glenda then said, "Tell us about your favorite story in the magazines."

My mouth simply wouldn't listen to the part of my brain that was demanding it to stay closed, and I began.  "My favorite story is one where a gang of young women kidnap a man who is walking along a street at night.  They handcuff his wrists behind his back, put a cloth bag over his head before he can see any of their faces, then tie its drawstring under his chin."

"They take him to a building of some sort, where they order him to strip.  He's then tied across a table, and the hood is untied and pulled up until it covers only his eyes, then re-tied.  They take turns sitting on his mouth, giving him something to eat, followed by a hot drink to wash it down.  They then tell him if he doesn't make them all cum, they'll torture him."

"He does his best to lick them until they climax, and they all do except for the last one.  She lifts up just as she's about to cum, and he hears the rest of them say since he's a worthless failure, they're going to teach him a lesson.  His cock had been getting harder by the minute as they used him as their toilet, and when he realizes they're going to torture him, it grows even more."

"They tie a cord around the base of his erection, behind his balls, and then toss the free end across an overhead beam.  Several of the girls pull on it until his cock and balls are stretched as far as possible." 

"They use a knife to very slowly remove the skin from his sac, giving him agonizing pain that gets worse by the second.  They then light cigarettes and puff on them so the tips are glowing red hot, then hold them against his naked balls.  When he can't take any more, he begs them to castrate him, and they do." 

"They then use the knife to skin his cock.  After dousing it with lighter fluid, they set it afire and make fun of him as he screams in agony.  Finally he begs them to remove it also, and they use the knife to slice it off."

"As he's passing out, one of the women is standing there holding his severed penis, saying, 'God, I've wanted to do this to him for years.'  He recognizes the voice as his wife's."

Glenda cleared her throat a couple of times before asking in a husky voice, "When you were reading that story, who was the man?"

With no hesitation, I answered, "It was me.  I wanted it to be me."

She thanked me for being so honest with them, and then said, "When you have fantasies like that, do you ever think about Ellie doing those things to you?"

Again I felt the compulsion to answer, and said, "Yes.  The fantasies I make up are all about her doing those things to me.  She's always the one who castrates me, or cuts off my cock, or cuts off everything so I'll be smooth as a woman."

Glenda continued, "I was sure that would be the case.  In virtually every case involving married heterosexual men that I've treated, the man wants his wife to do those things to him.  Now, I want you to think very carefully before you answer this question.  If Ellie really would do things like that to you, would you want her to, or is it just a fantasy?"

I tried to pause, but blurted out my answer immediately.  "I want her to do that to me.  I've wanted that since I first saw her in the company cafeteria.  I want it with all my heart and soul."

Glenda looked at my wife then, before saying softly, "I told you he wanted it.  After all these years, it's almost as if I have ESP with men.  The minute I met him, I could feel his longing, even though he does his best to keep it hidden deep inside."

My wife replied, "I think I knew you were right.  We've been married long enough for me to have the same kind of ESP where he's concerned."  She then looked directly at me before saying, "Jack, tell me the truth.  Do you want me to castrate you and cut off your penis?  I have to know.  Tell me now."

I tried to lock my lips together, but they opened anyway, allowing me to say, "Yes.  I want you to do that to me." 

She seemed to change the topic then, asking me, "Honey, have you been curious about what Glennie does in her sessions?"

That subject was more than a little interesting, given the state of arousal my wife had been in when she returned from the sessions.  Again, I couldn't dissemble, and nodded my head to indicate my interest, then waited for her to continue.

She said, "You remember that Glennie worked at a clinic in Philadelphia, don't you?"  At my nod she continued, "Well, as I said earlier, she counseled men who thought they had been born with the body of the wrong sex, and wanted desperately to find some way out.  She would work with them to make sure they weren't just having wild ideas, and that they truly did want to live as women.  If she became convinced they were real, then she'd recommend them for what's called gender-reassignment surgery.  Do you know what that means?"

I said something non-committal, and she decided it'd be better to explain.  She said, "That means a man who wanted to be a woman would have his things cut off, and then the surgeon would try to make a little pussy for him, or her, I guess I should say.  Glennie said the men they treated looked just like real women after about a year with no balls, and lots of female hormone treatments."

"She said it was really frustrating to see the way the doctors tried to delay the treatments, even to the point that some of the patients tried to commit suicide.  Finally she couldn't stand it any longer, and quit her job.  She then started treating the men on her own.  She describes herself as a 'cutter.'  Do you know what that is?"

I actually did know what that word meant, since I had seen it used many times in the magazines I liked to look at when Ellie wasn't at home.  I had kept them well-hidden in the garage, and thought she didn't know about them, up until a few minutes ago.  Her use of the word in the context of her friend's job description was very confusing to me, though, and I'm sure I shook my head in the negative.

She continued, "I guess that what she does could be summed up like this:  She meets with men who need her skills, and she applies her skills to them.  Now do you know what I mean?"

Even through my alcohol-fogged brain, I was sure I did know.  However, I found it so difficult to accept that my head must have moved from side to side again, rather than up and down.  Ellie took that to mean I didn't know the answer, and proceeded to explain it to me, saying, "She says the world is full of men like you who want to be castrated, and are willing to pay good money to have it done.  There are fewer of them who also want their cocks cut off, like you do, but still enough to be worth her time.  So she arranges to meet with those men, and then does what they want her to do to them."

"She makes lots of money at it, too.  She charges $500 to castrate a man, and $1000 to give him a penectomy.  If he wants both, he gets a discount.  The combination operation is only $1300.  Because she's my friend, Glennie said she'll do you for free."  Both of them laughed softly then, but I was simply unable to join in.  The numb condition of my body, combined with the very-confused state of my brain, allowed me to do nothing other than sit there like a log.

"That should give you an idea of why I was so horny the last two nights.  Glennie let me watch Friday night when she castrated the three men.  Last night she let me actually do the cutting on one guy, and then watch while she removed another one's cock.  I've never in my life seen anything so exciting, or even imagined something could get me so hot."

She stopped speaking then, and in the deathly stillness, I could hear the old cabin softly creaking as it settled.  There was simply nothing I could say in response to what my wife had told me, and in fact I very much thought I was going to pass out.  What I actually did was to turn my head slowly to Glenda's smiling face, my unspoken question written large on my face.

She replied in a very serious tone, "Every word she's said is true.  In the two years I've been in business, I've castrated literally hundreds of men.  I've performed penectomies on probably fifty.  There's never any shortage of men who want my services.  My customers find me by word of mouth, and then use my Website to finalize the arrangements.  I truly can't think of a more exciting, fulfilling, and financially-rewarding thing to do for a living.  I'm just giving those men what they need, and the fact they're willing to pay good money for it just makes it all the better."

The shock of hearing her story had cleared my brain somewhat, and I asked my first intelligent question of the evening.  "Is it always the men who want you to do what you do?  Don't women ever want something like that?"

She smiled brightly before answering, then said, "Actually, I do work with women, but not in the way you're thinking.  I don't have the surgical skills to operate on women, and that's why I confine my work to men.  However, I do receive payment from women in many cases.  Usually it's a wife who has found out that her husband is cheating on her, and she wants him neutered to put a stop to it.  Normally they'll just want him castrated, but several have wanted his cock removed, but his balls left intact.  Based on what I've seen, that just about drives a man crazy, since he still has all his sex hormones, but not much way to satisfy his urges.  It gives me a special thrill to think of doing that to a man, and I think Ellie feels the same way.  Don't you, hon?"

My wife's voice came as if from far away as she said passionately, "God, yes!  When you explained to me what would happen to a man with his balls, but no cock, I got so hot I almost couldn't stand it.  When I watched you cutting off that man's cock last night, with his wife standing there holding him down, I actually came in my pants.  Jack's damn lucky I didn't tear his little dick clear off him last night.  All the time I was riding his tongue, I kept seeing him lying there with nothing left but his balls.  God, I loved it!"

I was completely frozen by then, unable to speak or to move.  I don't know when I realized that my cock was hard as a rock, and when I looked down, the tent in my trousers was emphasized by the wet spot there.  Both women must have seen my eyes drop, and quickly realized my condition.

We were seated around the table where we'd had dinner, and my lower body was hidden by the top.  Ellie looked directly at me, then said in a commanding voice, "Jack, stand up."

To be continued. . .