THE PHONE CALL

When the telephone rang a few minutes before midnight, I grabbed it before the first ring had faded away.  My husband, Todd, had gone to the grocery store on an errand for me, and should have returned four hours before.  I was sure the call had something to do with his long absence, and I was right.  When I answered, a man's voice was on the other end, and what he said froze me in place.

In the cultured accent of an older man, very obviously well-educated, he said, "Mrs. _____, listen carefully.  We have your husband here with us.  Do not even think about contacting the authorities, or anyone else for that matter.  His continued well-being depends heavily on what you do in the next few minutes.

I said, in a voice frantic with concern, "What do you want?  What's wrong with Todd?  Let me talk to him.  Please, tell me what's going on."

He continued in his emotionless voice, "I'm afraid that it's not possible for you to speak to your husband at this time.  He's 'tied up,' so to speak.  In fact, that is probably the best description of his condition.  You see, we kidnapped him outside the grocery store a few hours ago, and then brought him to our home.  He is right now tied spreadeagled across a table in our basement, as naked as the day he was born.  It would be impossible for him to speak, due to the gag that has been in his mouth for quite some time.  Rest assured that he can hear everything we say, though.  You see, I'm using a speakerphone which is quite close to him, and he can hear both sides of our conversation."

I pleaded, again frantically, "What are you going to do to him?  Do you want money?  Is that it?  We don't have much, but you can have all of it.  Just don't hurt him.  Please."

He answered, "No, we did not kidnap him for the purpose of exchanging him for ransom.  Please allow me to explain by saying my wife is also here.  In fact, she's standing on the opposite side of the table as we speak.  It's actually at her direction that your husband is now our prisoner."

"You see, she has a personality type that would cause many people to classify her as a sadist.  In case you're not familiar with that term, allow me to explain that it means she very much enjoys giving pain to others.  In her case, the targets of her attentions are always men.  I assist her, because if I didn't, she would make me her next target.  Of course, I much prefer that she direct her efforts toward others of my sex.  I'm sure you can understand that."

"Now, as to what is to be done to him, I can say this to you.  He has been here on the table in our basement for over three hours, and during that time my lovely wife has used him quite carelessly, I'm afraid.  The first thing she did was to stimulate him to erection, and I must say that his equipment is quite impressive.  She measured it as slightly over 8", which puts it near the top in the log book she keeps.  She always says it's so much effort to torture a man properly, so why waste her talents on a pencil dick?  I find myself in agreement with her on that score."

"After his penis had reached its maximum size, she tied it off by double wrapping a piece of wire around its base, then twisting the ends very tightly with pliers.  I assure you that he has been erect ever since.  The thing seems to be suffering some ill effects, though.  It is no longer pink, but appears now to be a very dark purple in color, maybe even shading toward black.  I fear permanent damage may have been done."

"My wife has tired of her efforts, and wants to seek your advice before taking the final step.  She has already had three orgasms as she applied various pieces of her equipment to his equipment, and is now ready to go to bed to seek her repose."

"Her question to you is this: Do you wish him to be castrated also, or should she remove just his penis?  It's apparent that his manhood can't be saved, but his testicles appear to be salvageable.  What is your decision?"

Again I spoke frantically, my upset apparent in my voice, saying, "I don't understand.  What has your wife done to his penis?  Why can't it be saved?  What happened to it?"

He replied in his even tone, "As I said, she has treated the poor thing quite roughly.  It has been thoroughly whipped, which was probably the most mild thing she did to it.  After she tired of that, she inserted a large metal tube down its urethra, as far as she could force it.  Several needles were then pushed completely through the glans and shaft, numbering almost three dozen, I should guess."

"After she had run out of flesh to skewer, she began applying the tip of her electric soldering gun to each needle in turn, heating it red hot, beginning with the glans and working her way slowly down the shaft.  Believe me when I say that you husband's reaction to that sort of pleasure was magnificent.  He's very lucky that the gag fit tightly in his mouth, else he would have bitten off his tongue.  Of course, we had to apply smelling salts several times to awaken him, so he could further enjoy her attentions."

"When my dear wife tired of pleasuring him in that manner, she began to pour melted lead down the metal tube.  I had thought him incapable of further pain in that particular part of his body, but his reaction as his manhood was cooked from the inside out was truly spectacular.  I think it was the direct cause of her third orgasm of the night.  The woman seems to have an insatiable need for this sort of thing, and your husband deserves our thanks for providing the necessary parts for her use."

"Now, to return to my question: My wife is ready to remove what remains of his penis, and she wanted to seek your opinion on whether or not he should be castrated at the same time.  You see, if just his manhood is removed, then he will still retain his external features of maleness, and can continue to live his live as a man.  His libido will remain unchanged, as will his desire for sex.  I'm sure you can imagine the frustration he'll feel as his body demands sexual release, but he'll no longer have the proper equipment to provide it. 

If he's castrated also, then the lack of testosterone will have far-reaching effects.  With proper care on your part, he could even come to resemble a woman in many outward respects.  It's your decision, but we must have it quickly.  My wife is exhausted with tonight's efforts, and if left to her own devices she'll simply slice away everything in order to get it over with as soon as possible."

I paused then, knowing Todd was listening, and also knowing that he was trusting me to make this all-important decision.  I drew a deep breath, then in a quivering voice asked, "You're sure his penis can't be saved?  There's no way he can keep it?"

He answered suavely, "I assure you, Mrs. _____, it is too far gone to even consider saving.  It is thoroughly cooked, and now nothing more than a hot dog, to put it crudely.  His testicles have been thoroughly whipped and had needles inserted in them, of course, but should recover in a few weeks.  My dear wife is now holding her straight razor at the base of his genitals.  I fear I must insist you give us your decision now."

He stopped speaking then, and after a long pause, during which I knew the three of them could hear my sobs, I said in a trembling voice, "Please don't castrate him.  Leave him that part.  I beg you, don't cut them off."

The voice then said, "So be it.  Thank you for making that decision for us.  I'm sure your husband will also thank you, when he is able to speak to you.  And now, let me describe for you what is being done to him."

As I drew ragged breath after ragged breath, he began to narrate what his wife was doing to Todd.  Still speaking as if doing the voiceover for Masterpiece Theatre, he said, "She is now installing a second piece of wire immediately above the first.  That will maintain his erection after his penis is severed from his body.  Of course, it will also serve to prevent a God-awful mess in our basement.  I'll never forget how the blood sprayed from the first penis she removed.  It must have taken nearly half an hour for me to get it cleaned up.  She hasn't made the same mistake again, I assure you.  This way, the removal will be quite neat."

"The second wire is now in place, and has been twisted so tightly that it sank nearly out of sight in his shaft.  Should serve quite nicely to contain the pressure, and reduce the amount of mess he makes when she begins to slice his penis free of his body."

"She's just now laid down the pliers, and is showing him the straight razor that will be used to unman him.  That always seems to be a dramatic moment for the man, and like all the others, your husband is moaning and trying to beg her to spare him.  Of course, the gag prevents his being understood, and the dear woman always finds extra enjoyment in this moment.  You see, before she began to torture the poor creature, she told him that if he really and truly wanted her to stop, then all he had to do was very clearly pronounce the word, 'Rumplestiltskin.'  When he failed to do that at any time during the session, she assumed he wanted her to proceed."

"Ah, yes.  I sense the final moment is at hand, Mrs. _____.  She has placed the cutting edge of the razor between the two wires, and is once again looking directly at his face, giving him time to say the word that will bring his release.  I'm sure if you listen closely, you'll be able to hear him begging her to remove his manhood.  At least, that's always the way she interprets the simple noises a man makes at this stage of the procedure."

He then stopped speaking, and in the silence I could hear the muffled sounds Todd was making through the gag.  His voice seemed to be frantically trying to say a single word, but I couldn't tell what it was.  His moans went on for what seemed like several minutes, but surely couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

At last the man's voice returned, saying, "Well, it seems that the poor fellow really does want this to happen.  She gave him every chance to use the safe word, but never once did he utter it.  I fear your husband is an example of what is called a 'masochist,' Mrs. ______, and really does want to live the remainder of his life as a eunuch.  So be it, then."

"She's once again concentrating on the placement of the razor, making sure it's centered between the two wires.  It looks very much as if the penultimate moment is at hand, I daresay.  Ah, yes, the moment has arrived.  She's very slowly drawing the edge toward herself, while pressing it lightly against his tender flesh."

"The first spurt of blood is always so exciting to her, don't you know?  I think there must be a small bit of vampire in the girl, because she always stops to lick it from the man's tummy, where it has spurted.  Never could understand the need for that sort of thing, though I have to say that she certainly seems to enjoy it."

"Now she's returned to her work, and is encircling his shaft with the blade.  It's always my job to hone the thing before each session, and I can assure you it's razor sharp, to coin a phrase."

"Oh, I wish you could see this, Mrs. _____.  My dear wife is now standing over your husband, holding his severed penis above his head, allowing him to see that it truly is gone forever.  She simply loves the look of terror in her victim's eyes at this moment, as the reality of their eunuchdom sweeps over them."

"Oh, dear!  I fear the poor man has lost consciousness.  Hang on while I confirm that, please."

Nothing was said for several seconds, and I listened intently for any further sound from Todd.  When the man returned, his voice was entirely different, and I was sure that anyone who had listened to our conversation would swear the same man couldn't have been the one who possessed both.

He said, in a nasal twang that would have done credit to a hillbilly, "Hey, Sharon, what'd you think?  Pretty exciting, huh?"

I said, "God, yes, Jack.  I wish I'd been there to see it for real, but guess I'll just have to settle for the videotape you made.  Are you going to take him to the hospital now?"

He replied, in the same twang, "Yeah, Estelle says he's out cold, and she gave him a shot to keep him that way.  You'll probably be getting a call from them in about half an hour.  Just remember to act like you're in shock.  If no one suspects you were in on it, there's no way they can ever find us.  Well, we better get cracking now.  It's about a five-minute drive to the emergency room, and we don't want him waking up before we get there.  Talk to you later, hon.  Oh, by the way, do you still want his dick put in a jar so you can have it?"

I confirmed that I did want my trophy, then he said in closing, "Okay.  You can get it when you come for the tape.  Be sure to bring the last half of the payment, would you, sweetie?"

I assured him he'd receive payment in full just as soon as I could get it to him, and then listened to him say his farewells.

I said my own good-byes and hung up the phone.  It was impossible to contain my emotions then, and soon one hand was pinching and tugging my nipples while the other was buried between my legs.  As my long-denied climax swept over me, I imagined Todd lying there, tied spreadeagle, with his tortured and cooked cock standing proudly above his crotch.  As Estelle began to cut it free with her razor, I cried out with the intensity of my release.

When I finally regained control of my breathing, I lay there waiting for the phone to ring once more.  It was impossible to keep my mouth from smiling as I thought of my cheating husband finally paying the price for his infidelity.  His long string of girlfriends would be sure to reject him now, and he'd have no other woman to satisfy his overwhelming sexual cravings, except for his long-suffering wife.  I was sure that when I brought my lover to our bed, after a suitable length of time, of course, Todd would have no objections whatsoever.  Life was good, and about to get better.

When the phone rang for the second time that night, I answered on the first ring, my concern and fear evident in my voice.

The End