Roger the Lodger

Roger was out of his element, if the truth be known be know he was probably suffering from agoraphobia, fear of open space. For a Brooklyn boy who thought a trip to the country was the Brooklyn Botanical Museum, Dutchess County in the Hudson Region of New York was too much. His house was on a one-acre lot, this was just too much space for him to tolerate. But, his wife was happy, after being married for ten years, and living in a cramped apartment in the city, she was back in her element. She could stand the space she was a real farmer to Roger. She could go into the kitchen and rattle a few pans and come out with real food, he could order take out. She could grow things; he could order salads at McDonalds. She could check the oil in her car, even change a tire, he couldn’t even drive till he was twenty-two. After ten years of marriage she still amazed him. The first night they had moved into their home it was so far out he thought there would still be the danger of Indian attacks, he had seen a bear in the yard. She had explained to him it was a woodchuck, a big grass-eating rodent. He wasn’t sure if he liked a place where sewer rats as big as dogs ate your front yard.

Just about that time he heard her shout: “Hey Rog, gotta run to the doctors office there was some bad results from you blood work.”

“Oh shit,” he thought I have got some rare disease from this country living.

Bright and sunny she was back in an hour: “Quick Rog, inside the house, and into the bedroom.

“Oh my god what is it?”

“Nothing really, take off all your clothes and lie down on the bed. Here take this pill.” His wife handed him a pink oblong pill and a glass of water.

“Come on Penny what is wrong with me, am I sick or what?”

“No silly, your blood test didn’t work right, too many hormones. They want to run the test tomorrow again, but they need your hormone level lower, so they give me this to lower it, you will have to wear this overnight.” With that she pulled the strangest looking device out of a brown paper bag, it had a pistol grip, what anyone else would have known as a ratchet, and rubber tubing stretched out between metal arms. The name he couldn’t read but he did see the word ‘humane’ on it.

“Now the doctor wants me to band your scrotum overnight so you hormone level will drop and then he will perform the blood test tomorrow. Take off your clothes and lay on your back so I can put this on you.”

Roger complied, wondering if the guy he had gone to see was a real doctor.

Once he was on the bed, Penny started rubbing his balls; she rubbed and rubbed until they were really loose and hanging down. Then put his balls in the strange device inside the tubing and squeezed the handle several times.

“Gees Penny that hurts”

”Quiet Roger, just lie still.” She squeezed until there was nothing left to squeeze, then she slid a metal clip down the tubing and cut the tubing off above the clip.

“There Roger now you can talk, you are all fixed.”

“What the heck is it”

“Nothing serious, but the doctor wants to be sure, so you get a good nights sleep.”

“But its only 7PM and that thing hurts.”

“Don’t worry honey, that was a sleeping pill I gave you, you are going to sleep for 12-14 hours with out a doubt.”

“Its to early zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”

“Come on sleepy, its 9:30 AM time to rise and shine, here is a nice cup of coffee for you.”

“Huh.”

“That’s okay Rog just get up go pee, and come back in here and drink your coffee, I want you really awake so I can tell you a story.”

“Hokay.” Roger staggered into the bathroom, lifted the seat and proceeded to relieve himself, he looked down and there was a metal clip and a rubber tube around his balls, and they were all gray, and when he felt them they were icy cold. Then he remembered hormones, blood test, doctor.

“Hey Penny what time I gotta be at the doc’s.”

“Oh that, I’ll take care of that here, you just come back in here and drink you coffee and get back in bed, it is going to be a long day for you.”

Roger drank his coffee, and needed a second cup before he was truly alert. Penny had on her gardening apron, which had all kinds of strange looking tools in its pockets, for which Roger could never divine the use of.

“First a little joke Rog. Do you know why a dog licks his cock and balls?”

“No”

“Because he can!”

“Oh, I guess that is funny.”

“No it is more or less ironic. You know if men and women could lick themselves, they would.”

“Do you think so?”

“Oh I am sure of it Roger. Now relax for a moment, what is going to happen has already happened and I have a story to tell you. About a year ago I discovered this website on the Internet called EA. It fascinated me, it was all about emasculation and castration.”

“What?”

“Roger, don’t interrupt, or we will be here all day, just be quiet. Castration is the removal of male animals gonads. The balls are cut off in some cases, removed surgically or chemically rendered neutral. In the case of a woman they cut out her clitoris.”

“Really.”

“Yes Roger really. My dad used to castrate the bull calves, since we used artificial insemination, he was very frugal so he put a bunch or rubber bands on the scrotum and after a couple of weeks, the sack would fall off. But you are getting me off track again. Anyways the EA has all these stories about men having the balls cut off for a whole variety of reason, and a very few stories about women having their clits cut out. Now I am sure this is all titillation for the most part. I bet the men read the stories then run into the bathroom to race their mules and the girls run in and race their jennies. Some of the stories are written by men, and some allegedly, by women, or men that want to be women. The reasons vary from story to story. Woman castrates husband because: His dick is to small, His dick is to large, revenge, he is mean, he is a chauvinistic pig, he has had an affair, he is thinking of having an affair, she is having an affair with a woman, a man, a dog, or the St Louis Rams backfield. Man wants castrated because: He always wanted to, he wants to be a woman, balls hurt, balls don’t hurt, wants to wear panties without balls showing, is a masochist, is subordinate to the superior female gender and last but not least he is strange. Usually they fuck, suck or give the guy a hand job and just as he is coming they lop his balls off.

“What does this have to do with us Penny?”

“Just this. Let us be realistic here you are not Warren Beatty, and I am certainly not Madonna. Neither of us have much sex drive. You are happy being an accountant looking at you little columns of numbers, and I am happy working in the garden store with my plants and trees. If I were going to kindle it would have happened. Because god only knows, the one time a month when you are interested in sex is when I am ovulating. Every month just like clockwork you want into my pussy just as the egg is about to drop. I must give off an odor at that time of the month. But no kids for us unless we adopt. I am not fertile. From what I have seen your organ, you prick, cock, schwantz, whatever is perfectly acceptable. Just to see if it was you or me with the problem I have had sex with about five different men over the course of our marriage.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaat?”

“Don’t get upset. Statistics show a woman under 30, is about three times more likely to have an affair than a man of the same age. Besides it was just for research. These little sessions showed I am really not that interested in sex. I had men eat me, fuck me in front from behind, and do things that scared animals, nothing. It is not that big a deal to me, if we hadn’t married and in another time I would have been the perfect asexual maiden aunt.”

“I’ve never had an affair.”

“I know that dear sweet Roger, you can’t keep a secret for 2 minutes, if you had ever been with another woman I would have know the moment you walked in the door.”

“Then what is this?”

“I am going to castrate you.”

“What.”

“Emasculate you, turn you into a gelding, cut your balls off in other words.”

“Why?”

“Let explain a little better. When I read the stories about male alteration I was fascinated. Mentally fascinated, not sexually fascinated, I didn’t run into the bathroom and race my little jenny after reading the stories. I never did that to begin with. It was a mental fascination sort of I wonder if I could? Remember what the famous philosopher said: “90% of everything is half mental.’ This was a mental fascination with me, not sexual. I am not doing this because I hate you, or because I have a lover, or because you are a pig, or abuse me, or because it excites me sexually, or I want to become a dominatrix, or birth control, or because I think it will improve you. I don’t think it will change our marriage at all, you will have an excuse now not to fuck me, and I will have an excuse not to let you fuck me. Be realistic, neither of us are going to miss sex at all. I have tried the affair thing and that’s just not me, no thrill there.

“ Then why for chriss sake are you going to do this to me?”

“Oh Rog, you silly, silly city boy, I have already done it. Your balls are as dead as a stone. I castrated you last night. That band is an Elastrator band it is used to castrate farm animals, but it works just as well on men. After an hour without blood, the tissue in your balls died. I didn’t go to the doctors yesterday afternoon, went to the farm supply store and bought the bander, that was just a story to get you to let me tie them off. I have sat her all night long and played with them, watching them change color and turn cold, it has been quite an experience. I could never see anything when Daddy did the calves, but your sack has showed every color of the spectrum.”

“Oh fuck.”

“No silly boy, no more fucking for you.”

“But, if you don’t hate me, if you aren’t getting some cheap thrill out of it, why are you doing this to me?”

“Do you remember the joke about the dog licking his balls?”

“Yes.”

“Then Roger the answer is very simple, I am cutting your balls of because I can. Now hold still for just minute while I tidy you up a bit.” Penny reached into her apron and removed a razor knife. She grabbed his cold dead balls and cut them of with one smooth upward stroke. Roger jumped. “Well Roger, as they say at the racetrack, ‘THEY OFF”.

If you are driving through the Mid Hudson Region of New York, say seeing the sites along the Taconic Parkway, don’t stop till you get to Albany. Penny is still there, and she will do you. Why you ask? Just because she can.

By the way:

THERE ONCE WAS A LADY OF NOD

WHO THROUGH BABIES WERE BROUGHT BY GOD

TWAS NOT THE ALMIGHTY

THAT LIFTED HER NIGHTY

IT WAS ROGER THE LODGER, BY GOD.

Of course Roger lifts no more nighties. .