GREENSLEEVES

Chapter 6

Just what her "thing" was, was soon demonstrated by the sound of her stream in the silence, and the pungent, so very exciting aroma that filled my nose.  I don't know if it was just a few seconds, or an eternity, later when Ellie said softly, "Move back a little bit.  I need to raise up so you can lick me."

I drew back slightly and watched as she placed both hands on the bench where the toilet seat was mounted.  She effortlessly raised her body a few inches, then slid forward to present her wet pussy to me.  With no urging, I again buried my face in her crotch, but this time my tongue was very busy.

Again I lost all track of time, and I was in ecstasy until once again Glenda placed her hands on my shoulders.  This time, she was pulling me back, while saying, "That's enough, dear heart.  There's someone else here who needs to pee, too."

Ellie laughed softly, then stood and moved away from the seat.  Glenda quickly took her place, and this time I needed no urging to quickly bury my face in her smooth crotch.  Again I heard the sound, and smelled the delicious aroma.  At her whispered, "Done now," I pulled my head away and watched entranced as she duplicated my wife's actions of a few moments before.  Soon my tongue was once again doing what was the one true purpose of that part of my body: providing service and pleasure to the women I loved.

The moment ended all too soon, and once again I pulled away from that part of her body where I would gladly have spent the remainder of my days.  They helped me to my feet, and we began to walk to the cabin.  As we walked, Ellie said, "That was wonderful, honey.  I think you're going to make the best toilet slave any woman could want.  This evening I'll bring you out here again, and we'll see how you do with the other part.  I'll bet you're really looking forward to that, aren't you?"

I think I answered something in the affirmative, but mostly non-committal.  In my heart, though, I was screaming my "yes" at the top of my voice.  Just the thought of what I'd done for them, with the reminder of the very-delicious taste still in my mouth, was driving my lust to new heights.

Anyone reading this may find it difficult to believe that what I'd done, and what I would soon be required to do, could be sexually arousing.  I can say only that the degree of arousal I was then feeling was probably the greatest of my entire life.  I had not been allowed to cum for many hours, and during those hours my supreme fantasies had been realized.  The feeling of tightness in my chest, the throbbing pain in my crotch as my stump tried to erect, the arousing images in my head, and most of all the sight of the two beautiful, naked, women who had been by my side for hours on end formed a combination that meant my forebrain was entirely shut down.  I was a breathing, walking, penis, and I needed desperately to cum.

By the time we reached the cabin, my appetite had become ravenous.  That was due mainly to the fact I hadn't eaten anything more solid than a bowl of soup for at least 24 hours.  There was another factor stimulating my appetite right then, though.  The small taste I'd been given a few minutes before had seemed to cause my stomach to crave more, and that craving was translated as an overwhelming hunger.

My wife could read me like an open book, and without a word being said, she took a bowl of fried chicken and some other fixings from our ice chest.  Soon a sumptous meal was laid out on the table, and again the centerpiece was the jar, with its contents slowly bobbing back and forth as the table was jiggled.

We sat eating in companionable silence, broken every now and then by chit-chat between the three of us.  You may think it strange indeed that two women and a man could sit at a table engaged in small talk while his former penis is sitting there among the food items, looking for all the world like an obscene floral arrangement.  That's the way it was, though, and while we were all certainly very much aware of the thing, it didn't dominate our attention.

There was one comment related to the jar, and it was made by my wife, who had taken her trophy from my body the previous night.  She gazed at the thing for several seconds, then said to her friend, "You know, I almost wish I'd have opted to have it preserved and mounted like the one you told me about.  I can see that having something like that would have its uses."

Glenda laughed softly, then replied, "Yes, that's for sure.  The woman I told you about, who did that, said not long ago that it was the best decision she ever made.  I think having Jack's cock in a jar will be just fine, though.  You can always have someone else's mounted if you really want to, you know."

Ellie must have seen the questioning look on my face, and she yielded to my curiosity by saying, "Glennie told me about one of her customers who had her husband's penis removed last year.  She sent it off to a place that advertises on the Internet, claiming to be able to preserve the thing in erect condition by injecting it with something called 'formalin.'  She also requested a special type of mounting for it.  Wanna know what it was?"

The two smiled openly at the eagerness on my face as I nodded my head.  Ellie then continued, "She had it mounted in a special harness that's made for dildoes.  Now, when she wants to be fucked, she straps the thing on her husband and lets him have at it.  She also said that every now and then, she straps it around her waist, makes him bend over the dining-room table, and then she does the fucking.  Just thinking about a man fucking his wife, and being fucked, with what used to be his cock makes me hot at the same time as it makes me laugh."

They both broke into laughter then, and I tried to join in.  It was pretty difficult to do, because unlike my wife, my only reaction was one of increased lust.  The throbbing in my groin and the tightness in my chest and throat seemed to reach new heights as I thought of my former penis being mounted and used like that.

Glenda introduced the next topic of conversation in a musing tone of voice as she said to me, "Last night you said a couple of times that you'd wanted your cock cut off 'all your life,' or something like that.  Did you really mean that?  Surely it's a fairly recent fantasy, isn't it?"

Although I didn't recall at the time saying those exact words, I knew in my heart they were an accurate description of my mindset.  I began my explanation by saying, "Actually, I really do think that sort of craving is one of my earliest memories.  I can remember things that occurred when I was just a little kid, and although those memories are probably not 100% accurate, they're darn close."

"I don't know if Ellie told you that I was pretty much raised by my older sister, Camille.  Mom worked full time, and Cammie was always the one who was there for me, even though she's only eight years older than I am.  Believe it or not, I even have a fuzzy memory of her changing my diapers, and that probably dates to when I was three years old, or even less."

"One of my favorite memories of her, though, is when she'd give me baths.  She said it was easier to do if we both got in the tub, and so that's what we did.  I remember how we would play with my bathtub toys, especially a little submarine I had.  She used to lean back in the tub with her legs open, and I'd sail the sub up to her 'harbor,' as she called it.  She always seemed to like it when I'd push it against her there, and it was our favorite game, especially when she wanted me to put the toy in her 'dock.  I used to love seeing the front part disappear, because there was just something about it that seemed really exciting."

"When she washed me, she'd have me stand up in front of her.  I really liked it when she washed my crotch, because she'd take lots of time to put the soap on me and rub me clean.  My little penis would get hard, even way back then.  Whenever I'd ask her why it did that, she'd say it was because it was being naughty.  I'll never forget the time when she told me that she used to have one of those things, but Mama cut it off because it was always naughty.  She laughed about it, but to me it was a pretty serious thing."
 
"One of my earliest memories is of thinking her equipment was better looking than mine.  I used to say that I hoped someday I'd look like her, down there.  Her answer was always, 'Maybe you will someday, Jackie.'  I think that's when the idea formed in my brain that I'd be better off if my cock and balls were removed, because then I'd look like Cammie."
 
"I know I was convinced of the truth of Cammie's story, about our mother cutting off her cock and balls, until I was in junior high school.  I was continually wondering when my ugly things were going to be cut off, so I could look like my sister.  So you see what I mean about castration and penectomy being among my earliest memories."

"I'll never forget how devastated I was when I finally became convinced that no one was going to do what I wanted, and even more convinced that I could never tell anyone what I wanted.  I'd have been called a pervert, or worse, by my friends.  So I just shut it up inside me, and that's where it's been ever since, up until last night."

"When I went away to college, one of the other guys in the dorm bought a sex magazine and everybody passed it around.  There was one letter in there from a guy who claimed to want to be castrated, and that was the first time in my whole life that I had any idea I wasn't all alone in my fantasies.  After that, I started looking for magazines that catered to that particular fetish, and those are the ones I hid in the garage."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes then, each of us thinking of what I'd said.  Glenda finally broke the stillness by saying, "Those are beautiful memories, Jack.  It's easy to see how you would become fascinated by the idea of having your things cut off.  I can guarantee you're not alone.  I know from personal experience there are thousands of men who want what we gave you last night."

Ellie then changed the subject by asking, "Honey, have you been at all curious about what we're going to do when we get back home?  Glennie and I made plans a long time ago, and I thought maybe you'd be interested in them."

It speaks to my one-track mind, which had no other thought than its own lust, that I hadn't given that even a moment's consideration.  As she asked that question, though, I had a sudden recollection of something Glenda had mentioned in passing during our conversation at the table last night.  She had said something about Ellie "working with" her, and now that I gave it my undivided attention, it was almost as if I had been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer.

Surely Ellie wouldn't leave me, and go off with her friend to help her castrate men and cut off their cocks.  I knew she found that to be supremely exciting, and the more I thought of her doing that, the more I began to fear that was exactly what she was going to do.  My fear must have been mirrored in face when I blurted out, "Please don't leave me.  I can't live without you."

She had been sitting across the table from me, in the same place as the night before, when I said that.  Without hesitation she stood and rushed to me, leaning over to hug and kiss me with all the love and passion in her body.  With tears in her eyes, she said, "I'll never leave you.  I love you with all my heart.  You're my husband, and we'll always be together."

Again we kissed and hugged fiercely, until I at last asked in a tiny voice, "What sort of plans do you have?"

After again seating herself in her chair, she began, "I don't know if you caught Glennie's reference last night to me working with her, but that's what I'm going to do.  She's going to move out here to Portland, and use it as her base of operations.  She told me that the customer base here and in Seattle is large enough to keep her as busy as she wants to be, and if we expand down into California, then there'll be more work than we can handle."

"She's going to move in with us, of course, since it'd be silly to have two houses.  She plans to do most of the California jobs by herself, as always.  When she has customers closer to home, then I'll go with her.  Actually, we've talked about taking you to some of the sessions also.  Would you like to hear what we have in mind for you?"

I was very much curious about that subject, and nodded my head while begging, "Please."   She turned to Glenda, saying, "Sweetheart, why don't you tell him that part?"

The other woman began, "Well, I can tell you there would be plenty for you to do.  We'd like to have you along for security, of course, since there's always the chance that one of the customers will object when we start to castrate him or give him a penectomy.  There're a couple other things that'll be important, too."

"I've had women ask what their husband will look like, and how he'll act after he's been modified.  If you're there, you can do a show and tell.  Should simplify things for everyone concerned."

"Another thing you'll do is act as a sex object for some of the men.  Lots of the homosexual customers have expressed an interest in fucking one last man before their equipment is removed, and if you're there we can just bend you over the table and let them have at it.  Who knows?  Maybe you'll even come to enjoy it.  At any rate, Ellie says it'd be fun to see you getting fucked in the ass, so that settles it.  Harem slaves don't have any say in the matter."

They both broke into raucous laughter then, fueled anew every time they looked at my expression of shock.  I simply couldn't come to terms with the idea that my wife would use me in that manner, and I'm sure my disbelief was plain to see.  At last they settled down, and Ellie said, "It's what I want for us, honey.  You surely aren't going to start objecting at this stage, are you?  I mean, we've already cut off your cock and put it in a jar, and we've demonstrated some of the duties you're expected to fulfill.  I can't believe you'd balk at a little thing like getting fucked in the butt."

Again their laughter rang out, subsiding only when I at last nodded my head, then said quietly, "I'll do whatever you want.  I want to be with you as much as possible, and if that means certain things will happen to me, then they'll just have to happen.  I'll do anything to make you happy."

The seriousness of my reply sobered them, and once again Ellie came to me and we kissed and hugged.  When she pulled away this time, instead of returning to her chair, she pulled me to my feet, saying, "Now come with me.  I need to visit the little building out back, and there'll be something for you to do when I'm finished.  When we come back in, we can go over our plans in more detail, and then Glennie and I want to eat each other's pussies for dessert, while you guard us.  After all, that's why we have you, isn't it?"

No answer was needed, and I at first numbly, and then eagerly, followed her out the door.  The plans the two women had for me would happen with or without my consent, and I was happy to just let them be in charge.  I just hoped they'd allow me to cum before too much longer, because the case of blue balls I had was just about to drive me crazy.
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Epilogue

It didn't take me long to learn to properly fulfill all my duties as the slave of my wife and her lover.  Glenda said I was very trainable, as she'd known I'd be.  Her praise gave me nothing but joy, since I lived to satisfy their every whim, and when they found pleasure, then I found it also.

We returned to our home on the following weekend, and I made some semblance of returning to a "normal" life.  I returned to work on schedule, although that schedule is somewhat modified from formerly.  I now work four days a week, and on the three-day weekends we travel to meet the men (and sometimes women) who have made appointments with Greensleeves.  Ellie has become an accomplished castratix, and has even done a few penectomies all on her own.  She still finds that procedure to be the most exciting part, especially when the man's wife is there to hold him in place while the cutting is done.  She says she still cums just by squeezing her legs together when she slides a severed cock up the tubing.

I have been used as a show and tell device on a few occasions, and as a sex object on a few others.  I don't like that last part, but have to admit that I get more than a little stimulation from feeling a cock rubbing against my prostate gland.  Ellie always warns me to not cum, but sometimes I simply can't control myself, and the stuff dribbles down my crotch as it's forced out of my little hole.

Ellie has been saying lately that she misses the feel of a cock inside her pussy, and that she's thinking of taking a lover.  Even though that causes me to feel jealous, I know when the time comes, I'll encourage her to find pleasure in another man, and even serve as her harem slave while he's in her bed.  She says that I'll be introduced to a third taste from her body if that happens, and I feel a sexual thrill as I think of licking and sucking her wonderful pussy, no matter what I am given as my reward.

I was asked once, by a woman who was considering having her husband's cock removed, if I would freely choose to live this life if I were allowed to make that choice.  My answer was an immediate and heartfelt, "God, yes!"  The vehemence of my response actually surprised me, since I hadn't realized, up until then, just how much I truly love what was done to me, and what is being done to me, by my wife and her friend.

I guess that I really and truly do believe that when God was designing my life, She wrote the title, "Harem Slave," after my name.  I love it.

The End