“I was expecting you to support me on this, Monica,” I said. “Didn’t you and Roger divorce over his affairs with other women?”

“Yes, but that was different. First of all, Roger was sneaking around behind my back and lying to me. Secondly, Jen and I have discussed this at length, and her motives are entirely different. Instead of selfish self-indulgence like Roger, Jen wants this to spice up your love life. She wants it to keep you together instead of splitting you apart.”

“And you are telling me this as a psychologist or as a friend?”

“Both,” she answered. “As Jen’s friend and as yours. And yes, in my professional opinion, it is a healthy desire on her part, something she wants for both of you.”

“She wants to cuckold me, Monica,” I said. “That is what we are talking about here, her having sex with other men. She wants me to agree to it.”

“Yes, that’s true. There are worse things than being cuckolded, Angelo. Many men fantasize about their wives having sex with other men. Many would like to watch or participate.”

“So I am strange for feeling jealous whenever we discuss this?”

“Angelo, you know you have the urge for other women. Don’t deny it. I remember a certain evening when you tried to come on to me.”

I blushed, remembering. “I…did. I was drunk, I know that is no excuse. You…well, thanks for never sharing that with Jen. You both being psychologists and analyzing each other all the time, I know it must be tempting to divulge that secret sometimes.”

Monica just smiled. “You two have been admirable at trying to keep the fire in your love lives,” she said. “Acting out fantasies, experimenting with kinks and toys…”

“And it worked for years, Angelo,” Jen said, walking back over to join us around the coffee table. “We have been adventurous and unwilling to settle for a boring sex life. But despite all that, now we have one. And I want to do something about it.:

“But Jen, we always promised not to have sex with other people. It would tear us apart. I couldn’t stand it.”

Jen’s frustration surfaced and she sipped her wine in silence. “There’s no use continuing this discussion right now. What is that movie you brought, Monica?”

“Oh, one of my patients recommended it. It’s called Hard Candy.”

The movie turned out to be a story that revolved around a long surgical castration scene involving a young woman and a sex pervert. We were well into the second bottle of wine by the time it finished. Monica seemed to be feeling the effects of both the wine and the movie. “I have to admit, castrating a man appeals to me on a certain level,” she said.

“Me too,” Jen agreed. “And I noticed a bulge in Angelo’s jeans. Look, it’s still there.”

I grabbed a sofa pillow to cover my too-obvious arousal. We had been skinny dipping together, and we had discussed our sex lives and hers, but I was not comfortable with displaying myself to her. “I…have to admit, I was aroused by that.”

“So you want to be castrated?” Jen asked. “That might be a good solution for us,” she said giggling. “You could become my gelded companion and I could take as many lovers as I pleased.”

We all laughed. “I would like to ceremonially castrate a man. Can you imagine anything more empowering to a woman? And then afterward, to observe the changes in…him.”

“I just want to castrate Angelo so I can fuck other men,” Jen said. “So darling, do you want a surgical castration like in the movie. I heard you can get them from doctors in Mexico.”

“It would have to be a woman doctor,” I said. “It would have to be woman.”

“Maybe we should act this out?” Jen suggested. “Monica can be the nurse and I can be the doctor…if you don’t mind bringing another person into it.”

“Well, strictly speaking, it wouldn’t break your rule against having sex with other people. There wouldn’t be any sex involved, right?” Monica asked.

“No sex, although Angelo would be quite exposed,” Jen said, looking at me.

“It would be ok. Monica has seen me naked anyway,” I answered.

“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” Monica said. “I promised the sitter I would be back by 11:00. Why don’t you two try it without me?

After Monica left, we did act it out. Jen had me naked with my butt hanging off the edge of the bed, legs spread, feet on the carpet. She held my balls and said, “Say goodbye to your manhood, Angelo,” and pretended to snip them off with scissors. It was a huge turn on for both of us, and we fucked for an hour.

- - - - -

It was a couple of weeks before Monica could find a sitter and come for dinner again. While enjoying the after dinner wine, the conversation returned to the castration fantasy. Jen told her about us acting it out, but Monica didn’t seem enthusiastic. “I don’t think pretending to snip them would work for me,” she said, looking at Jen. “What if we could really castrate him, but just a little?”

“Is that like being a little bit pregnant?” I asked.

“No, actually, I did some research. And this was so inexpensive on eBay I went ahead and bought it,” she said, reaching for her bag. She took out an Elastrator tool and some bands and put them on the coffee table. She explained how it is used for animals.

Jen was smiling, obviously enthusiastic about trying it on me. “It would be painful, Angelo. I want to warn you about that.”

“But we won’t leave it on very long,” Jen said persuasively.

“Right, it really will castrate you if we leave it on too long,” Monica agreed, looking at me. I reached for a sofa pillow, and they both knew why, looking at each other and laughing.

We decided to act it out the next weekend. Monica would get a sitter and come over. She said my balls should be shaved or waxed, and asked if I wanted it to be part of the ceremony. “No, I’ll take care of it the night before,” I said.

“I think we should restrain him before we band him. It should be our decision when the band comes off, not his, don’t you think, Jen?”

“Yes, absolutely. We can handcuff him to that support pole in the basement. I’ll get the room ready this week.”

“What do you wear to a castration?” Monica asked with a smile.

- - - - -

The next weekend, Monica came over, and we went to the basement after a light dinner, taking our wine and sitting in some old folding chairs that were there, around a battered coffee table. Monica was wearing the little black dress that she had been wearing the night I came onto her, with black patterned stockings. “Black is my power color,” she said.Jen had spent a lot of time getting ready, wearing her best rose colored panties and matching bra under a see through blouse and slinky burgundy silk slacks. Her hair was beautifully arranged and she wore her best perfume.

After we chatted for a while, Monica put the Elastrator and bands on the old coffee table. I was already so aroused, and this made my heart pound. “It is a lovely evening, but we came here to castrate you, Angelo,” she said.

“I guess I am ready,” I said with a gulp.

“Strip and stand at the pole,” Jen said. I shed my pants, shirt, and boxers, revealing my massive erection.

“Well, we won’t have to hold that out of the way,” Monica quipped.

Jen cuffed my wrists behind the pole with some handcuffs we had for sex play. But they were real, and I would not be able to free myself.

They put two folding chairs right in front of me and examined me, discussing exactly how to do it. Monica put a band on the tool and handed it to Jen. “You have to be the one to do it,” she said.

Jen opened the tool, spreading the band, and Monica guided my balls through it, positioning the band above them on my scrotum.

“Last chance, Angelo. Do you really want this?” Jen asked.

“Yes, go ahead,” I said. She released the band and immediately I almost doubled over with excruciating pain. I yelped, and Jen reached for a bag she had brought.

“We don’t want to listen to him for a while, do we?” she asked, and Monica shook her head. Jen took out a pair of panties and wadded them up, stuffing them in my mouth, and then tied a gag to hold them in.

They moved the chairs back to the table and poured more wine. “A toast, to the first man we ever castrated,” Jen said.

“This is so amazing, to know that we really are castrating him right now. I feel, I can’t explain it,” Monica said, her tone somehow different from before. This threw a scare into me, because I wasn’t only in pain. I realized I also was helpless to do anything about it.

A few minutes later, we heard the doorbell upstairs. Monica looked at Jen with a smile and said, “He’s right on time.”

Monica stayed with me, sipping her wine and watching me. “Guess who that is, Angelo? Someone for Jen to play with while your balls are dying.”

Mark was a young guy, the son of one of Monica’s patients. Very full of himself. Nice looking, lean. He laughed when he saw me, but his eyes soon returned to Jen. They stood in front of me kissing, fondling, stripping each other. I tried to scream when she first held his erect cock in her hand, but the panties were very effective. Soon she led him over to the old couch against the wall. I was relieved to see her put a condom on him anyway. She lay, legs spread, with him above her. She looked over at me. “Watching Angelo? Of course you are.” And then they fucked, the way young people fuck hot and urgent pounding breathless fucking.

Monica, though, was watching me the whole time. Asking me, “How does it make you feel, Angelo? To watch his cock enter Jen?” And other such questions, which I could not answer, as only my muffled screams got through.

Afterward, they all sat in front of me and had a glass of wine. He kept fingering Jen and kissing her and fondling her breasts, and soon he was hard again.

“Do you want to go again?” he asked.

“I do, but I think Monica needs it more at this point.”

“I am incredibly aroused, Jen. Thank you for thinking of me. Would you mind if I take him home and make a night of it?”

“No, please do.”

As he was getting dressed, Monica came up to me and squeezed my balls. It was quite painful. “Your balls are cold now, Angelo,” she said. Then she leaned close and whispered, “I will bring you some satin panties tomorrow. You will be sore for a long time from losing these. They will feel good. You will adjust, don’t worry. And you will get used to wearing panties.”

When they were gone, Jen came back to me. “We never had any intention of cutting the band off,” she said. “We have been planning this for weeks, and you were so cooperative.”

She felt my balls. “Oh, they are cold, Angelo,” she said. “You are probably castrated already, did you realize that? But why don’t we make a game of it? Fuck me with your cold balls, and if you can make me cum, I’ll consider cutting the band.”

Jen is taller than me, and she stepped close, spreading her legs and guiding my hot thick cock into her very open and slippery sex. It was awkward with my hands cuffed behind the pole, but I had never felt so turned on. I went wild then, tossing her as if goring her with the horn of love. She hung on and her hips made pelvic gyrations didn’t know were possible. She came over and over. And me? I almost did. I felt permanently on the verge of orgasm, but was so worried about my balls that I couldn’t. Finally we stopped and she slipped my cock out. She untied the gag and pulled the wet panties from my mouth. “Shhhhh!” she said when I started to speak. Then we kissed, long deep lover’s kisses.

“Honestly, Angelo, I was afraid you would never turn me on like that again,” she said, looking into my eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at the little scissors on the table. “Maybe I should snip the band” she said, looking back at me. I couldn’t read the expression on her face.