Prelude

Meganne is a sixty year old widow and gifted with a nice petite body. Some years ago she, and her husband, moved in a few doors along from me. I was attracted to Meganne from the very first moment I set eyes on her. Not with lusting, but more with what could best be described as a fatal attraction. Anyhow, she was married and I was living with a lady friend. A few years later my lady friend removed herself from my scene, and six months later Liz moved in and nine months later we were married. Meganne and her husband were guests at our wedding and four years later, sad to say, her husband died. Liz turned out to be a woman with a very restless nature and it was not long before she returned from whence she came. I visited Meganne regularly after Liz departed and it was made clear that sex was not on her agenda. The months passed, then Liz decided to return. Meganne was none too happy about this. Seventeen months later Liz decided, again, that she would return to where she thought of as home. This time, Meganne more distant and kept me at arms length. This bothered me despite the fact nothing personal would ever transpire between us, as Meganne's hormones had long ceased to cause her to become sexually aroused. We were nothing more than very good friends. The months passed and as Meganne's attitude softened she dressed more attractively when in my company. She could look very fetching in a manner befitting a lady of her age. With reluctance, would let me kiss her cheek but never on the lips. She said she didn't like kissing then one evening, to my surprise, as I made to kiss her she said: “Do you love me?" “Yes,” I replied. She said that she didn't trust me not to let Liz back and said she didn't want hurt again. She said: "If you love me you'll let me arrange to have you castrated." "Then I'll know I can trust you." She went on to say she would have my testicles pickled and keep them in a jar beside her late husband's ashes. "I'm serious” she said. She thought that I would become frustrated living with a woman who could not give me sex, but if she had me castrated I wouldn't want it. We'd both be in the same boat so to speak. I looked into her eyes and knew I would do anything for her. “If thats what you want,” I said. “Yes” she replied. Natasha is a young Russian who is in this country studying veterinary medicine. Natasha called at my house, now and again, and Meganne knew her quite well. The next time Natasha called Meganne said that she would like to talk to her about something rather personal and asked if I would go up stairs and let them talk privatly. I thought, when Meganne tells Natasha what she wants of her that shall be the last we see of her. "All right" I said, and went off upstairs. I half expected Natasha to take offence and leave. An hour passed then Meganne called me down. Natasha gave me a big hug. She said: "I will not do this thing to you myself but, I know of two veterinary students who would love to cut the testicles of a man. The following Sunday Meganne told me that the ladies would be here on Saturday and asked if I was still prepared to go through with it. I said: “I was.” At two 'o clock sharp the ladies arrived. They, each, gave me a hug as Natasha introduced us. I own a sturdy dining room table, which was to be used as an operating table. I was asked to take a bath and shave my pubic hair. Meganne volunteered her services for this small operation. As she shaved me she remarked on how small my penis was and said I would only have frustrated her if she had been into sex. I was assisted on the table and my outstretched legs tied to the legs of the table. My wrists were tied to the opposite legs as a precautionary measure then one of the ladies administered injections around my scrotum. After about fifteen minutes Natasha said: “You could feel a little, but not much.” I was soon to discover why I had been secured so well. When all was over and done the ladies cried: "Yes" and hugged one another and when the jubilations were over untied me and carefully eased me from the table and helped me into bed.

Meganne had been attending the hospital for regular check ups and it was found that she required hormone replacement therapy. Six months after commencement of therapy Meganne became much more lively and whenever she looked at my testicles, which had been preserved in a fine glass bottle, she said she regretted having that done to me.
Meganne had met my friend Lance several times and one evening when he was visiting said: "Eunuch, I wouldn't mind a coffee, maybe Lance would like one." Lance looked at me, then her, and laughing asked what made her say that. With mock hesitancy she said: "Shall I tell him?" I said: “You may as well after saying that.”
She told him how it was that she had lost interest in sex and felt if I were castrated she would feel more comfortable with our being so close. She went on to tell him that she was found to have a hormone defficiency and how hormone replacement therapy had changed things for her. Then for no, apparent, reason went on to tell us she had some lovely clothes which didn't wear lest doing so should upset me considering what she had caused me to have done to me. I told her that wouldn't upset me and that I would like to see her dressed really nice. I suggested she wear something nice some evening the three of us were together. Lance arrived the following evening as arranged. Meganne was upstairs making herself ready and as I ushered Lance into the living room Meganne called down to say she would be with us in minute. We heard her make her way downstairs and on entering the room said: "Good evening, gentlemen." She was a picture of loveliness. Her make-up was applied to perfection and set off by diamond studs in her ears. On her feet were gold high heeled shoes and tights so fine they looked almost nude. She was wore a light green soft stretchy blouse which showed her off to her best advantage. Her skirt was a darker green and of a soft material which limpidly flowed around her. She welcomed Lance with a kiss and motioned him to sit on the settee and asked if I would care to look after the refreshments. I served the drinks then sat next to Lance. We spent the next hour chatting over drinks and the occasional cigarette. Meganne brought up the subject on how she had changed now that she was on hormone therapy. She said: “I was married married to Jim, but I have not had sex in the last twenty years” It meant nothing to me.” She went on to say she would like to recall that experience but had spoiled everything by insisting on having me castrated. "Anyway" she said, "No point crying over spilt milk." "Move the table out of the way and let's dance." Lance moved the table to the side whilst I selected some waltz tunes I thought suitable. Meganne said she couldn't dance but that it should be fun trying and when the first waltz struck up she said: "My dear eunuch, let's have the first dance together." After the first waltz Meganne took Lance's hand and said: "May I have this dance Sir." They were awkward for a time then Meganne resolved the situation by placing Lance's hands round her waist and latching her arms around his neck. And so they danced for most of the evening, except for the occasional drink and a cigarette. There is a saying: when good drink goes in, good sense goes out and as the evening progressed, and the mood relaxed, Lance's hands slip on to Meganne's bottom as she clung to him with her head on his chest. Turning her head to me she said: “Eunuch, put the kettle on, please.” They danced for another few minutes then I heard her ask Lance if he would like to stay the night. When he said he would like to she told him to go to the front bedroom and she would bring him his coffee to him, then coming into the kitchen she told me to go to the back bedroom and she would attend to the rest. She brought the tray with the coffees into my room and placing a cup and biscuits next to me said that she would take Lance's through and get her night attire. “On second thoughts” she said, “Would you mind terribly if I stopped a while and had coffee with him.” I said: “My dear" "Stop as long as you like, and do as you must, but please don't sleep with him.” An hour, or so, passed before Meganne returned, covered by a white satin bed jacket slung around her shoulders. Slipping into bed beside me she said: “There's no point in beating about the bush, I'm sure you know what I was up to next door.” I said: “Would you like to know something?” She said: “What?” I told her I got a thrill lying here knowing she was being screwed silly. Then I said: "When you screamed out 'Oh, Ohh, Ohhh,' that capped it all." I said: “I'm quite looking forward to his next visit.” “Your not the only one” she replied. “It was such a beautiful feeling him going up inside me.” "Up and down, in and out - I was pure ecstacy" “As he was about to cum he got so big and hard and I felt him throb against the neck of my womb" "Then I felt a lovely warm sensation as he spurted way up inside me, that was when I screamed.” “I had three orgasms” “Feel how wet and swollen I am.” Sure enough, I had never felt her like this. Then throwing aside her bed jacket she straddled my belly and started to work her wet pussy all over me. “There" she said, "Don't say I didn't share with you” “Now, give me the licking I, so, deserve.”