"That's how long you're flight's been delayed?" the bartender asked.

    "yeah.  So they say.  It usually gets longer"

    "It always gets longer."

    "So, anything to do besides getting potted here?  No disrespect to the bar, but six hours of soaking up the juice is a long time, even for me."

    "Well," the bartender said, "since it's an hour and a half ride into town and another hour back, you may want to pass your time here in the airport."

    "Doint what?"

    The bartender thought a moment and said, "well, actually one of the state's best emasculation clinics is located here, right off the airport concourse."

    "Yeah?" Bill said, intrigued.

    "Yeah.  Actually, I've had more than one customer like you who was caught between planes and decided to pass thetime by being emasculated there.  A lot of them passed by here and said how satisfied they were.  Whether it was straight orchiechtomy, or that plus removal of the scrotum, and/or penectomy, or even full nullification, they said they had a great experience.

    "Hmm," Bill said, "interesting."

    It was interesting, too.  Now that voluntary emasculation had become so mainstream, there was nothing surprising about the bartender's comments.  For that matter, among his best male friends there was hardly one who still had his "packet" intact.  Bill had often thought about it too, but still hesitated.

    "Of course," the bartender said, "if you're married you may want ot consider what your old lady thinks...."

    Bill knew perfectly well what his wife thought about the subject.  Every time that one of her married female frinds told her about he husband being castrated, and/or penectomized or even nullified, she recounted this to him in a tone that left little doubt how in her heart of hearts she wished he would go the same route, without exactly coming out an asking him to do so.

    There was nothing surprising about that.  Feminism has resulted in a widespread public awareness of how much women hate to be penetrated by penises, and how insulting and threatening they regards them as being.  After all, with his fingers and tongue, a man could provide a woman with all the pleasure she wanted -- ten times more than by that stupid stick inside her body.  Indeed, it was now quite common for a marriage to be preceded by the husband providing some sperm to be frozen for future family purposes, and them being castrated, and/or penectomized or nullified before the ceremony, so that the "wedding night" was a pure tongue-job affair -- that being all he would ever be capable of again!

    "Have you been to this castration clinic?" he asked the bartender.

    "Me.  No.  I'm not from here.  I had it done in my home town as soon as I was eighteen.  That was back before getting your packet removed was as mainstream and understood as it is today.  My dad wouldn't sign the consent form, so I had to wait a whole year from the time I decided I wanted it until my 18th birthday.  Talk about a long year.  Mind you, he came around,.  He's now a full nullo, just like me."

    Bill thought a moment and then said, paying for his drink, "I think I'll take your advice.  Right now."

    The bartender gave him instrucitions -- after all, the airport concourse was huge -- but out of curiosity he glanced up at an information column, and sure enough there was the listing "Geldings Are Us Emasculation Clinic".  He mused about how in just the last five years voluntary self-emasculation in its many wonderful forms -- castration 9with or without scrotum removal), penectomy and nullification -- had become so mainstream.  Even so fashionable, to judge from the male move stars and other celebrities who talked openly about having given up their unwanted (who would want it?) manhood.

    Bill felt his cock surge against his pants.  Well, not much longer, he thought, feeling real hostility towards this part of his body.

    The Geldings Are Us Emasculation Clinic was opposite gate E.  Bill went in and saw a pretty receptionist in a tight outfit that highlighted her breasts sitting at a desk.  Not for the first time he thought of how marvelous it would be to be a woman.  Well, he couldn't have that, but at least he could stop being sexually male.

    "Can I help you?" the receptionist asked.

    "Yes," Bill said.  "I only have six hours between flights, but I'd like to be emasculated in that time, if it's possible."

    "Certainly," the receptionist said.  "Castration, and if so, with or without scrotum removal?  and/or penectomy?  Or do you want full nullification?"

    Bill paused.  He had been thinking only about castration and had been wondering about scrotum removal.

    Hell, why not go the whole way?

    "Can you do full nullification in six hours?" he asked.

    "Sure.  With the new instant-healing green lasar technology we do it all the time.   So," she said, without waiting for further reflexion by him, "full nullification.  Male or female surgical team?".

    "Female."

    "Okay, please take your seat in the waiting room."

     There was another man waiting there.  He turned to Bill and said, "end of the line for your manhood too, huh?"

    "Sure is," Bill thought, pondering the implications of the full nullification he had chosen.  Maybe he had been too hasty.

    "I'm going the nullo route," the other man said.  "In for a penny, in for a pound.  Why do things by halves.  We can't be women, but why not sit down to pee like them?"

    "I agree," Bill said, relieved by the other man's confidence in his choice.

    A door opened, and a nurse appeared.  He called Bill's neighbor.  surgery had made such progress in this aea that it didn't seem long before he appeared, walking a bit carefully but otherwise looking well.

    "I don't think your wife will have to worry in the future about you forgetting to leave the toilet seat down" he said with a mirthful look.

    Then it was Bill's turn.  As requested, the team was all female, the surgeon being a buxom woman in her forties whose breasts strained against her white coat.   The nurses were young and cute.

    It was done under local anaesthetic, and thanks to the miracle of green lasar, the surgery was almost instantly healed.

    When it was over, Bill just had time for one more at the bar.  "Hey, you were right.  It was really great."

    "You chose?"

    "Full nullo!"

    "You'll love it.  I don't know a guy who's gone that route who doesn't," the bartender said.

    There were no further delays to Bill's flight, but as it took off, he realized he had to piss.  He anxiously awaited the moment when the "fasten seat belts" sign would go off.

    It finally did and he made it to the teenty plane toilet.  Trembling with excitement, he took down his pants in the confined space and sat down to pee just like a woman.

    Will Judy ever be delighted, he thought, thinking of his wife.  And of course she was.