Be Careful What You Wish For

by

Anon

"Wow. She’s more attractive than I thought," whispered Jen. She was looking at a poised, mid-thirtyish woman crossing the employee cafeteria. Jen was right; the woman was worthy of a second, third and even a fourth leer. Actually she was worthy of a full ogle. "Jeez, I’d give my left nut to spear that knish," I said to myself.

A flicker of amusement crossed the woman’s face. She’d heard me. I quickly told Jen I was sorry for being crude and hoped the woman would hear and accept it as an apology directed at her. If she heard me, she showed no sign of it as she disappeared from sight into a room reserved for senior executives. She was a new one to me, so I figured she was either a guest or a boss’s wife. If I was called on the carpet, I could always say I was talking about someone else.

Jen interrupted my thoughts, "You told me you liked tall blondes." She smiled that knowing smile women reserve for little boy men and continued, "Ms. Finch is a red head and no more than five two when she wears spike heels."

"How do you know her name?"

Ms. Finch, Jen told me, was the company’s new Vice President for Research and Development. I obviously hadn’t read the company newsletter. I finished my sandwich in glum silence sure that this afternoon would be my last with this company. After all the ass-kissing and boot-licking, my big mouth had landed me back at entry level.

The summons arrived in a cream colored envelope with my name handwritten across the front. Above the corporate return address was the name "V. Finch." The note inside was terse. "Be in my office at 4:45. We have something to discuss."

Should I use the time I had remaining cleaning out my desk or would it be better spent using the company computer updating my resume? As it turned out, I did neither. At 4:35, with the taste of Jen still on my lips, I put on my tie and Harris Tweed sports jacket and began the longest walk.

The executive wing lobby is a two-story glass roofed atrium with a black slate floor and a Japanese garden. A receptionist directed me to a pair of brushed stainless steel elevator doors and told me V. Finch’s office was on the fifth floor.

The fifth floor hallway was carpeted in deep maroon. The thick pile muffled any sounds that might dare to intrude. A brass plaque opposite the elevator doors directed me toward double glass doors. I stopped outside them, checked my tie in my reflection and tried on a confident smile. The outer office was empty; Ms. Finch’s minions were gone for the day, but the door to the inner office was ajar. I knocked on the frame.

"Come in, Mr. Guillemot." She pronounced my name correctly, with a hard "G" and a silent "t."

I began with my best grovel. "Ms. French. I’m really sorry about my tasteless remark this noon..."

She raised her hand and said, "Actually, I found your proposal interesting. Would you really give up one of your testes just to have sex with me? If that’s true, I’m flattered."

I chose my words with care. "You’re a very beautiful and an extremely intelligent woman You must know that a man would be a fool not to desire you. Still, it was wrong to say what I said."

I tried not to stare; under her filmy white blouse, a white lace bra hid what must be absolutely magnificent breasts. Without thinking, I licked my lips. She smiled.

"There’s no need to apologize. You had the balls to say what others have thought." She laughed at her own joke and I chuckled dutifully. "But, would you really do it? You couldn’t possibly be serious.," she asked. "It’s just a cliché, right?"

She wasn’t yelling at me so I figured my job was probably safe for now. I continued to kiss ass. "I’d do anything you wanted."

"Really. You’ve piqued my curiosity and stimulated my libido. It’s been a while since either has happened." She handed me her business card. She’d written her home address on the back, "I’ll see you at 7," she said. "Park in the garage. Security will be expecting you."

Ms. Finch’s address was the penthouse of a high rise. Acres of manicured lawn dotted with trimmed shrubs and huge old trees shielded the building and its occupants from the world. The guard at the street was expecting me and the black iron gates swung open when I gave him Ms. Finch’s name and mine.

A security man dressed in a blue blazer and regimental tie was waiting at the entrance to the building. He used a cell phone to call Ms. Finch and tell her I was here. After several deferential "yes, Miss Finches," he showed me to a private elevator.

Ms. Finch had changed into jeans and a faded tee shirt. Her breasts jiggled as she led me through the living room to a roof patio overlooking grassy dunes. I could see private beach, and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. There was a small portable bar. "Make us drinks. I’ll have a vodka martini, very dry." I tore my eyes from the dark shadows that were her nipples and did what I was told.

After making hers, I poured myself a rye and water and brought our drinks to where she lay stretched out on a lounge. I sat on a chair next to her.

"Shall we fuck out here? It’s private, Only the crew of a passing helicopter might see us," she asked.

She didn’t waste time with small talk. "Anywhere you want," I said trying to sound cool though I was anything but.

"Good. We’ll start out here. If it gets too chilly, we can go inside. Why don’t you undress and let me have a look at what you have to offer."

The idea of being inspected struck me as a trifle weird, but I wasn’t going to argue. If everything went well, I’d get to screw a very beautiful boss and keep my job. If I worked it right, there might even be a promotion in it. I slipped off my penny loafers, stood and unbuckled my belt. Seconds later, my clothes lay in a pile on a nearby table and I felt the wind tugging at my body hair. I also felt vulnerable.

She reached up and squeezed my cock between her thumb and forefinger, apparently testing its firmness as she might a banana from a street corner fruit cart. It must have passed because she nodded in approval. Next came my balls. She was only a little gentler this time, rolling each between her fingers and thumb. I guessed they also met her standards because she finally let them go and stretched my scrotum away from my body until I winced.

"Very good," she said. "Your testes are quite large, possibly the largest I’ve ever seen. My goodness, you’re all covered with little goosebumps." Her hand rested on my thigh. "Is it the breeze or are you nervous?"

"The breeze," I lied.

"Then let’s go inside, my bedroom is much more comfortable anyhow." She led the way through the living room and into a bedroom leaving a trail of clothes on the thick white carpet. Her panties were last. They landed on the back of a chair just before she crawled to the middle of a large circular bed. Kneeling, she patted the pink satin quilt. "Close the door and lie next to me."

It was an order, not an invitation. I did as I was told and lay on my back beside her. "What does ‘V’ stand for?" I asked. My fingertip idly drew a circle around one of her pale pink nipples. It stiffened.

"Victoria."

"I’m Bill."

"I know." Her hand curled around my shaft, and she began to jerk me off very slowly and very deliberately.

My fingers combed through the thin red thatch between her legs. Her labia were already swollen, so I slipped one between them and began to massage the fleshy hood that hid her clitoris. She gasped and then said, "Most men are more interested in sticking something inside. I like it that you went for my clitoris. You may lick it."

I bent over her and obeyed.

She began an urgent chant, "Oh, yes, yes, yes..."

That was punctuated with a squeal followed by a sigh and the directive to lie on my back. She crawled on top.

"You’re sure you want to do this?" she asked holding my cock up to her vagina.

I grabbed her hips and pulling her down, impaling her. The muscles lining her hot, wet sheath parted, rippled, and gripped me. She did all the same magical things with her vagina that Jen did so well with her mouth. All the while, she bounced as though riding a pogo stick. The end for both of us came too quickly.

She collapsed on top of me and we lay quietly for several minutes catching our breath before she asked, "Was it worth it?"

"Oh, yeah.’"

She rolled off. "This one’s mine now." She was holding my left nut between her thumb and index finger.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, ‘This one’s mine now.’

As a child, I’d had a recurring fantasy about lying naked in the meat case of an old fashioned butcher shop. A woman would come into the store and tell the butcher she wanted my balls to fry up for supper. He used his cleaver to remove them, scrotum and all, and wrap them in white butcher paper writing the price with red crayon. There was no blood or pain. When he was done, I always crawled back into the case to await the next customer, usually a beautiful young woman about my age. She wanted my cock. The butcher removed it the same way, taking it by the tip and stretching it out on his cutting board. A single whack with the cleaver didn’t even leave a stub.

I’d always gotten an erection from that fantasy, but, tonight, here on Victoria’s bed, it was not a daydream and I knew there would be both pain and blood. Actually, I told myself, it would hurt like hell and I could easily bleed to death. Besides, having one ball might be hard to explain to future lovers.

It was time to put a stop to this. "It was just a meaningless phrase. I didn’t mean it literally. You can’t just start cutting people up and removing body parts," I said. "It’s against the law. Besides, it’s dangerous. I could die."

"I was taught how to castrate my lovers by a urologist. It’s safe enough. Besides, she always checks my work before the incision is closed."

"You’ve done this before?" I squeaked.

"Of course. Would you like to see my collection?" She let go of me to open a night table drawer. I jumped off the bed and bolted for the door. The knob wouldn’t turn. It was locked and I was trapped.

"It locked automatically when you closed it. Even if you got out, you’d need to know a combination to summon the elevator. Then, you’d then need my key or a code to use it." As she talked, she dangled a large purple velvet bag from her hand. She untied the gold cord that held it closed and turned it upside down, emptying the contents on the bed. A dozen clear plastic cubes rolled like dice across the quilt. Each contained something gray about the size and shape of an oyster.

Jesus, my cock was getting stiff just like it had so many years ago. Something, perhaps the old fantasy, pulled me back to the bed. I picked up the cube that had rolled closest to the edge. A silver nameplate just beneath the surface said what was inside had once belonged to someone named Rick. I began to tremble.

"There’s no reason to be scared. You’ll still have a normal sex life. You’re young and you only need one." She picked up another and said it was Joseph’s. "So far, this one’s my biggest, but I’m thinking yours will be king once I put it in my sack." She chuckled.

"Just let me go home. Please."

She ignored my words and handed me Joseph. "I’ll use a local anesthetic so you can watch me make the final cut. The thought of doing it is making you horny too, I can tell," Victoria said.

She was right. I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs and tried once more, "If you let me leave now, I promise I won’t tell anyone."

"You can leave any time you want - after you’ve paid me," she said. "Actually, you’ll probably want to spend a night here. It hurts once the anesthetic wears off. I have pain pills for you but still..."

"The police…"

"I’ll say you raped me. I lost my head and tried to castrate you. The evidence of your assault is still in my cunt." She pointed at a wet spot on the bed. "And on the sheets. You’d spend the next twenty years in prison."

Her little speech over, she kneeled next to me, holding my left testicle again. "Don’t be such a baby. I’m only going to take this one." She began to roll it between her thumb and forefinger, squeezing just hard enough to remind me she was the boss.

When I didn’t reply, she smiled in triumph and used my penis as a leash to lead me into her kitchen. There, she patted a long marble top island and told me to get up on it. I obeyed and she attached heavy leather straps to hold my lower body in place. A pillow was slipped under my head so I could see the reflection of my crotch in large mirror suspended from the ceiling.

She was good with a razor. When she was through, there were only a couple of nicks. I looked like I had when the fantasy was new. My cock was rock hard now and Victoria taped it to my stomach. She held up a hypodermic needle and cleared it of air before giving me two injections, one on either side of my sack. They stung a little going in, but I began to go numb almost immediately. She painted my scrotum with an orange antiseptic. It wasn’t cold, but my sack tightened against my crotch, She stretched it out, touched me with the scalpel and a thin ribbon of blood followed the blade across my skin.

"Can you feel it?" she asked.

"No" A drop of semen appeared at the tip of my penis as she sliced through both the skin and a layer of tissue I didn’t know existed. The opening was about a half-inch long when I said, "Jesus, Victoria. Stop. I don’t want you to do it. I’ll do anything you want – anything but this - just don’t do it."

"Nonsense," she said through her mask. She spoke the way a mother might with a reluctant child. "Calm down."

She continued cutting until she could pull my left testicle through the incision. It was a much brighter pink than either Rick’s or Joseph’s. Of course, I thought, that’s because it’s still attached to me. When it’s cut off, the blood will drain and it’ll look like the rest. She pulled it away from my scrotum and examined it.

"I knew it. The biggest yet."

"We’ll have to weigh it to make sure, but I think you’re right." I looked up into a pair of clear blue eyes above a surgical mask.

"I’m Dr. Teal."

I squeaked a ‘hi.’

"Make sure your knots are tight," Dr. Teal said to Ms. French. "We don’t want any more bleeding than we have right now."

I closed my eyes.

"You’re going to miss the best part," Dr. Teal said.

She was right. I had to watch. I looked up into the mirror. Victoria had tied two sets of knots an inch apart on each cord. She held a pair of surgical scissors poised between them. "Ready?" she said. I bit my lip, nodded, and she squeezed. The steel blades came together. I winced but there was no pain and my testicle dropped onto a stainless steel dish.

Victoria picked it up by a cord and swung it above my chest like a hypnotist’s pocket watch. "It’s time to go to sleep," she said.

A needle pricked my arm and the room faded to black.

"Good morning, Bill. Dr. Teal said you’ll be fine in a day or so," she told me. "Want to see it?" She had a plastic cube in her hand. There was already a nameplate on the bottom. Something gray and shaped like an oyster was inside.

The doctor showed me an assortment of capsules and tablets in a pill cup. "The pink ones are antibiotics to fight infection and the white one is a pain killer that’ll also make you sleepy. Take them now all now. I’ll spend the rest of the day with Victoria and check on you whenever you wake up." She poured them into my mouth and held a straw to my lips so I could sip some water.

When I awoke again, the doctor was looking at the incision. She kept putting my penis on my stomach but it kept flopping back and getting in the way. She finally just held it. Her grip was gentle and I liked it the touch.

"It’s clean and uninfected. Does it hurt?"

It didn’t.

"When you’re all better, I want you to fuck me. You have a beautiful penis. I really must have it." She took the head in her mouth and her lips closed forming a seal about halfway down the shaft. It hurt as I got stiff, I groaned and she stopped. "We’ll do it later," She kissed the tip and left.

I closed my eyes. Mom said that sleep speeds up healing.