I eagerly wait for Dr. Henry Smith to arrive. He was my last case. I wanted to make everything perfect. Commandress DeeDee personally picked me to be his castratress and companion. I look at his file again, the files I know so well. In a short time, I would face him in person.

He was 29 years old, a slim man who could look like a pretty womyn if given nothing more than longer hair and a dress. He was a child prodigy who graduated from the university at 10 and got his PhD in physics at 15. He was a fellow of the Male Army Radiation Research Institute at 18, when he was given his sex slave, following the male custom. He apparently loved her. He never exchange her for another. Since her death in a shuttle accident three years ago, he lived alone, highly unusual among males of high standing.

I put away the memory crystals. It was amazing how we came so far in fifteen years. For two centuries, we Amazons and the males were in armed stand off. We had our half of the galaxy and they had theirs. Of course we would win in the end. We had no male. A century ago, one male slave could make enough sperm for millions of Amazons. We certainly did not need males for sex and love. In the last sixty years, advance in genetic engineering let us fertilize our own eggs without sperm. Males became obsolete. But half of their population was female. For two centuries, nobody was willing to spill the blood for a war of conquest. So we were in a standoff.

What nobody foresaw was how easy it was to conquer them. It started with a simple but brilliant idea by Dr. Pamela Emerson. She invented the female elixir that turns males into females. It took her 20 years to perfect the elixir. Once we capture a city or planet and turned all the males into females, it was pointless for them to take it back. Each victory made us twice as strong. She convinced the High Council and the War of Elimination was on. We captured large population centers and converted all their males to females, and let them go home. Within a few months, all the former males were well adjusted to their new sex. Most were a lot happier than before and wonder why they resisted in the first place. From time to time, a converted city or planet was recaptured by the males. They were so enraged that they went on raping sprees. It only turned the former males against them. Converted males were the most dedicated in the support of the War of Elimination. They bought more war bonds, volunteered for more dangerous missions, won more medals than us Amazons.

Twelve years ago, a totally unexpected thing happened that changed the course of the war. Just before the Battle of Crushnuts, the Intelligence Director of the male army defected. He was afraid that he would be killed in battle without ever experience the sensuality of being a womyn. We expected heavy loses. His information allowed us to capture the army of half a million men with only two hundred Amazons killed. He then told us the most amazing thing. Their intelligence service had been monitoring our communication for decades. Someone had been recording and selling our sex programs from commercial television. Only the well connected men could get the shows. A lot of males were like him, admiring female beauty, secretly wishing to be beautiful Amazons. They were greatly distressed by the thought that pretty womyn are dying and being blown apart in this war. He personally knew several ready to follow his path of defection. He told us how to get in touch with that network.

Thus was the Special Conversion Units set up for those valuable defectors. Unlike the large industrial scale conversion systems, we were the luxury trade. All SCU members were beautiful. We worked in well decorated ships of our own. We had psychologists and counselors. Each man had an individually designed conversion program of his own, allowing him to act out his sexual fantasies. A companion was assigned to castrate and convert him. Afterwards, she was the constant companion, confidant, lover and advisor for months, until she settles into her new life. Someone would take care of all the administrative things to bring her into Amazon society: new ID card, a new job, a house, spaceship pilot licenses. The whole support system, from beauty surgeon to employment agent, were there.

We were worth fifty star fleets and all their fire power. Our success were on telecast all the time. Some of our cases became celebrities. The whole maledom knew about us. Since a lot of our work remained secret to protect the privacy of those who shun publicity, we generated a lot of fantasy. Sometimes defectors came with totally unrealistic demands and we had to gently deflate them. Because of us, Star Fleet knew as much about the male world and their military as their leaders. Some sociologist thought that as many as 7% of the male population desired to be womyn.

We also changed the way the war was fought. The siege fleet arrived. A few defectors joined us and spilled their secrets, or beamed us the information. The stealth teams swung into action. A few well placed bombs and computer virus, a few kidnaps and the whole male army was paralyzed. The shock groups followed and captured or blew up key targets, like power stations and ammunition depots and fighting was mostly over. The war became less and less bloody. In the last five years, 99% of the male fleet or army surrendered without firing a shot.

And now, the last male stronghold was under siege. Resistance was futile. How could a lonely planet stand against a whole galaxy of castrating womyn? We just wanted it to be as bloodless as possible.

I read Dr. Smith’s file again. This was the third time he helped us. Five years ago, he gave his good friend Imatu, an intelligence official, thirty memory crystals of technical data when Imatu came over. Four years ago, just before the Battle of the Delta Quadrant, he got in touch, giving us extremely valuable information. Our communication experts were awed by the ingenuity of the way he beamed the message. We tried to get him out. Unfortunately the scout ship ran into one of their long range reconnaissance ships returning from Amazon space. The fire fight ruined everything. Commandress DeeDee put him on the AAA list. The best of everything would be assigned to his case when we saved him. Last year, she stopped my demobilization and brought me half way across the galaxy to Dr. Smith.

As the male fleet retreated, they took him along. Now he was their Planetary Detection Director, in charge of all radar units of the last male stronghold. He got in touch again three weeks ago, giving us detail plans of all units under his command and suggestions of how to defeat them. He sent three long messages. He also told us how to get him out. This time, we won’t fail. Commandress DeeDee remodeled the xanadu class starship just for him.

The alert bell chimed. I put the image on screen. The scout scooter with Dr. Smith in it just got past the protection screen of light cruisers. They were safe. I felt a slight vibration as our ship went to full impulse power to meet them. He would be on board in twenty minutes. Another alert bell chimed. Fleet Commandress Sable was coming on board to welcome Dr. Smith in person.

From the moment he went on board, I would be watching him closely. I knew the process well. Final debriefing by military intelligence went on in the scout scooter and transmitted the data to a cruiser, which beamed it to the flag ship. Once on board the conversion ship (his home for the next few weeks), he was formally welcome by a high ranking commandress. The next step was a quick medical checkup and a long interview with the psychologist. It was often his first chance to talk about his particular desire and fantasies, his admiration of female beauty. It was his first chance to tell us his wishes, from breast size to hair color. It was his chance to tell us how to castrate him. They all had sexual fantasies they wanted to act out.

Dr. Smith’s psychologist was Annette, an extremely beautiful brunette. We had worked together in four cases. She was the best listener in the galaxy and could make anyone feel at ease. She drew out the men’s fantasies. It was a great relief for them to talk about how they worshipped womyn. She made them feel that it was fine, not something to be ashamed of. I watched the interview from my screen.

He spent the night in the psychologist’s quarter with light sedation and came to the castration chamber well rested. While he slept, Annette and I got together. She gave me her views. We worked out the details of the castration program, from the scenario to my hair color. We were going to have an interrogation and castration of a serial rapist. Unlike earlier cases, we did not have to worry about how the battle was going. So we could take our time just to do this right.

I was all keyed up, all my senses tuned. The door opened. Henry and Annette were there. I took his hands and said: “I am glad to see you.” Hand in hand we walked into the castration chamber. I gently cuffed his wrists and ankles into the X-shaped frame. I tilted the frame. He was almost in a standing position, but very comfortable.

I stepped back so he could get a very good look at his castratress. I took off the hair pin and shook loose my long blonde mane. Then I took off my dress very slowly and sexily, almost a striptease. I kept my lace bra and matching g-string on. The flimsy fabric both inflamed and contained his lust. Like other males, he could not helped but stared at my perfect body and big firm tits. I walked up to him slowly, caressing his chest very slightly with my finger tips.

Suddenly, I grabbed his gown and pulled. The buttons flew off. Then the underpants and he was totally naked. His clothes were made of thin silk, chosen just for this act. His cock was totally hard. It was not too long, but had a good girth. “How many of us did you rape?” I snared. I was standing close to him, our bodies lightly touching. He was resisting. He breath was ragged. He was sex starved. After a couple of minutes, I suddenly kneed him hard on his balls. He screamed and twisted with pain. I grabbed his balls and squeezed hard, asking my question again. When he answered, I rewarded him with a kiss.

In my five years in SCU, I had done everything an Amazon could do to pleasure the men I castrated, except fucking and cumming. Like all Amazons, I could love womyn only. I could never let a cock invade me or let them shoot their cum. But I wanted to give my cases everything I could give. They had been so wonderful to us, saving countless Amazon from death and harm. Everyone in SCU had to feel that way. We were there to welcome these men into womynhood.

The interrogation took a long time. I kept demanding details of the rapes, inventing erotic scenarios as we went along. From time to time, he refused to answer my questions. He gave me excuses to torture his balls. I used many ways to hurt Henry’s balls. I pulled them hard, squeezed them, hit them. When he confessed, I rewarded him with kisses and caress. I also massaged his balls gently, nursing them. Our bodies rubbed against each other a lot. His raging hard-on never went away.

I wanted to know if he tore off the bra of that red head he raped on the beach last month. He kept his month shut. After squeezing his balls hard for three minutes, I pulled out the chopping block and laid his cock on it. I rolled his cock on the cool smooth stone, masturbating him between my silky hand and the stone. He knew instinctively that it was time and just repeated: “I will never tell you.” He was trembling. His cock was pulsing and twitching in my hand. He was about to shoot his come. I freed my other arm, took out the cleaver hidden beneath the chopping block, and in one fluid motion, chopped off his cock from the base.

He screamed and screamed. I dressed the wound but did not give him anything to lessen the pain. The

Prime Directive was explicit. The first step of conversion was cutting off the cock. It was the ultimate female power over the male. Biologically it was totally unnecessary. But the male must feel the full pain. Pain killer was absolutely forbidden. A final come was absolutely forbidden. The cock must be castrated by the female hand, using knife or other small tools. The Prime Directive forbid impersonal castration. He had to know clearly that a female hand castrated his cock.

I put a clamp at the base of the cock to keep the blood in and the cock hard. All the cocks were preserved in big glass barrels and sent to the Grand Temple. They were sacrifices to Goddess. The Grand Temple already had complexes housing billions of cocks.

It took him a while to faint. I pressed a button. The doctor came in and dressed his wound. They gave him a bath and moved him to the recovery apartment. We stated in the recovery apartment for five days. He had to stay in bed the first two days. I took care of him lovingly, like a womyn nursing her male lover who was injured. He got out of bed the third day and became my slave. He wanted to feel not only the physical pain, but also the humiliation of a slave. He wanted to feel how Michelle, his former slave-lover felt.

I started by telling him to strip naked. Then I put a silk leash on his balls. I wore only lacy bra and G-string, or the sexiest lingerie. He brushed my hair, groomed my nails, massage my feet, made my dinner. I liked to sit on the couch and had him kneel humbly in front of me, sucking my toes. From time to time, I found fault with him (there was none) and punished his balls. I liked to step on his balls, or rolled them beneath my feet. He was twisting in pain, but held my ankle very lightly with both hands. From time to time, to reward him for being a good slave, I let him lick my legs. I teased him cruelly. I liked to slowly massage his balls. By bed time, I rewarded him by letting him bath me and then rubbing lotion all over my body. He was all fired up with no way of release. Finally I tied him comfortably to a tilted bench next to my bed (so he could see me well) and turned on my sexual stimulator. I had countless orgasms and slept soundly.

We played mistress and slave for three days. After I had breakfast on the fourth morning (I did not allow him any by doctor’s order, although he did not know it.), I pulled him by the ball leash into the castration chamber. It was time for him to become one of us.

I gently cuffed his wrists and ankles into the X-shaped frame. I took out the IV bottle of female elixir and stuck the needles into his balls. The elixir began to drip. That was all it took. The elixir did the job by itself. He was screaming from the pain of the pierced balls. This time, unlike the castration, he could not pass out in a short time.

The elixir worked just as well if the needle went into his arm. But the Prime Directive was explicit. The second step of conversion was destroying the balls. It was the ultimate female power over the male. Biologically it was totally unnecessary. But the male must feel the full pain. Pain killer was absolutely forbidden. The ball must be pierced by the needle of the IV bottle. Finally, he did pass out and I press the button to summon the doctor.

The conversion process took two days. I stayed with him as much as I could. I never failed to be amazed by the beautiful process. The doctors kept her sleeping for an extra day while they did the surgery to give her the body he asked for. Technicians scanned her bio-data for ID cards and other administration tasks. She would wake up perfectly relaxed, feeling wonderful in our new home for the next month, a three room suite.

I was in bed with her when she woke up. I had only my lace bra and matching g-string on. The first word she heard was: “Nataleine”, her name. Then I kissed her. It took her a few seconds to realized it was done. She jumped out of bed, her big tits bouncing. One whole wall of the bedroom was covered by mirror. She just stood there watching herself, almost in shock. A few seconds later, her hands unfroze to reach and cup her big breasts. Sensational pleasure shot into her body. I got out of bed to join her. She flew across the room into my arms, tear of utter happiness flowing.

I took a while for her to calm down. Then she kissed me. The first thing they all wanted to do was make love. Now she was a womyn, I had no inhibition at all. And what a beautiful womyn too! Her body was slim and tight (he used to exercise a lot), with delicate skin as fine as porcelain. Her tits were a little too big, with light pink nipples. He asked for long honey color hair. The geneticists grew a new scalp and the doctor transplanted it. He wanted to looked like his former sex slave, whom he loved so much. We looked so much alike. It was two wonderful days. I had not had such a beautiful lover for years. Nataleine was sensational with her tongue. Her tits were the center of our love making. But she pay homage to my perfect pair as well.

On the third morning, I secretly rang the bell to summon Annette and the doctor. When they rang the door bell, Nataleine panic and grabbed a towel to wrap around herself. I gently stopped her. “You should be proud of your body.” My hand moved down her curves. “Show them. Annette will be proud of you. The doctor will need to see it anyway.” We put on our lace bras and g-strings. And they were proud of her. Annette brought her a tight silk dress as a present. It showed her curves to perfection. Annette also brought her ID card and money.

Annette took us shopping. We rode in a small six seat shuttle to go to the luxury line Queen Ketani. On the way, Nataleine saw the fleet for the first time. Different kinds of ships were already deployed in their orbit layers. The small fighters patrolled the lowest orbit. Next came the huge castration ships. Then the big star ships, with enough fire power to level mountain ranges. They were already preparing to leave. The fighting was almost over. Armed with Nataleine’s information, the stealth teams blew up the male’s radar. The star ships jammed their fleet radar. Five stealth teams injected computer viruses. Ninety shock groups blew up power stations and ammunition depots. No Amazon was killed. Half the male army had already surrendered. The rest were wavering. Cocks and balls were not worth dying for.

That night Annette stayed with us. Next morning, just before she left, she took a small box out of her bag. “Take a look at it if you want to. I will come back for it this afternoon.” Nataleine opened the box and froze. It was her former cock. She just stared at it, unable to move or make a sound. I got behind her, held her and said: “Pick it up. Hold it. Only then can you lose your fear of it. It cannot hurt anyone now.” Nataleine picked it up and held it. Finally she turned to me and said: “It is amazing such a small thing caused so much misery and suffering, for so little pleasure. What is going to happen to it?” I told her that all the cocks would be preserved and stored in the big glass barrels in the Grand Temple as offering to Goddess. Millions of people go see them every year. “One day, I need to go there and worship Goddess, and see all those cocks.”

It was time for sadness. It was time for goodbyes. The SCU was being demobilized. Our work was done. Commandress DeeDee told me to escort Nataleine to the planet Sunnini in the Gamma Quadrant. She was offered a job in the Communication Research Institute of the Sunnini University. SCU bought her a small house close to campus. The intellectual atmosphere of the city suited her. She loved water and Sunnini was a waterly planet; it had lots of islands, but no continent. It was also on my way home. I was ordered to rent an apartment and not move into her house. Ninety days from the day we arrived, I was automatically demobilized and out of Star Fleet.

Epilogue:

The year after the war was miserable. I continued my study of veterinarian medicine. My heart was not in it. It was such a come down. I could not find a lover whom I could talk to. From time to time, I talked to Nataleine. She was thriving. I missed her. One day, she called me to ask me to go to the Grand Temple with her. Her good friend Imatu, who so long ago brought over the 30 memory crystals, just got married. They were going to the Grand Temple on honey moon. The cock compound was finally completed and a big ceremony will be held. In the center of the compound was the Hall of Heroines. The former cocks of those defectors who really helped Amazonia to win the War of Male Elimination would be stored in individual jars. The High Council and High Priestess would declare their former owners equivalent to being Amazons at birth, a great honor. Both Nataleine’s and Imatu’s former cocks would be in the Hall of Heroines. Nataleine had no lover. She wanted me to go with her. I leaped at the chance.

They picked me up on the way. It was a rapturous re-union. The love making was the best I could remember. Imatu was really good in business and very wealthy. We traveled in style. The ceremony was glorious. When it was over, Nataleine and I were married in the Grand Temple, by the High Priestess herself. And we lived happily thereafter.