In the lewd, ignorant and uneducated mind it conjures up immature and infantile images of depravity and barbarism. The ‘chop’, as these tiresome intellectual low lives perceive gelding, tends to evoke rash titillation and musical hall quips directed at the comical demeanor and deprivements of eunuchs. They are insensitive and crude in their grasp of this vital social necessity. They command nothing but my contempt and I am resolute in not wasting the time of day on such mentally impoverished people. This is a subject that I have dedicated a considerable part of my working life to studying and practicing skillfully.

Alas, in this modern world with its spurious and ambiguous morals being a practicing geldress is sadly frowned upon. One, who offers her skills and services for the purpose of socially necessary castration, appears to carry the same loathsome stigma as that of being a tax collector, a public hangman or an estate agent or a politician. This seems to me to be a profoundly unfair judgment on my expertise and my social worth. Only in select Middle Eastern countries are the talents and status of a geldress, such as myself, fully recognized and applauded. The social benefits of castration and gender demarcation are there fully recognized and enjoyed.

Perhaps at this juncture it would be courteous of me to introduce myself and tell my ‘story’ and involvement. Every geldress has a story to tell about how she entered this specialist and intimate trade. My own story is quite simple my name is Doris and I was working as a vetinary nurse in south London in the late 1950’s. The vet whom I assisted was retiring and the practice was set to close. There was very little similar work in the vicinity and so I faced the unwelcome prospect of unemployment.

Flicking through the ads section of the vet nary trade journals I came across an advert for a job in South Yemen. I applied in writing for the post. They liked my CV and experience and hired me. I flew out and settled into my new accommodation. The salary and benefits were fantastic. I worked for a rich businessman attending to the medical needs of his animals in his private zoo and farm in a remote inland region of the country.

The farm was wonderfully equipped with its own dispensary. From the outset I was very happy there. As part of my many duties I carried out a lot of routine castrations of animals. I had a lot of experience of this procedure and felt perfectly confident and skilled at carrying it out alone and unsupervised by a surgeon. My patients were mainly dogs, baboons and monkeys at first and the more practice I had the more competent I became at it. It came to the point where I joked to ne of my colleagues I felt I could pluck ‘plumbs’ in my sleep.

One of the main reasons for so many geldings in the private zoo was to avoid offence to women visitors and children. The local custom was to be very protective of women. The sight of pairs of testicles dangling in sacks was thought to be too crude and suggestive of sex. It was thought they could give impressionable females improper ideas. Castration ‘tidied’ up the appearance of the exhibits as well as making them more docile and friendly. Later I was asked to perform the operation on horses and bullocks. On one occasion I was asked to neuter a frisky and troublesome camel. I had to laugh as I did it as the testicles were the size of rugby balls and the scrotum was large enough to be a handbag.

Eventually I felt the need to move on from the farm and set up my own small animal’s dispensary in the nearby town. It was a good move I had no difficulty starting up and settling in. It gave me financial independence and was successful. All was going moderately well.

Then one fateful day my career took a new and interesting turn. It was a normal day and I had a full schedule of routine appointments. My final appointment of the day had been made by Zuni whom I knew to be a servant of my former employer. He worked as an attendant in the women’s quarters and I assumed he was a eunuch although outwardly he looked like a normal man. I caught sight of him occasionally guiding his charges dressed in burqas around the zoo.

His turn came and I stepped out into the empty waiting room I called him into my office. He looked nervous and obviously troubled by something. He was a male in his mid thirties, plump and obviously overweight. This was a common feature of the eunuchs in the household. Food seemed to be their main preoccupation and they obviously over indulged in their master’s generosity.

“How can I help you I asked?”

Zuni was very evasive and seemed reluctant to talk and I noticed he did not have an animal with him. I realized it was a personal problem and wondered how I could help. Eventually he started to tell me his story. He confided in me he was a bedchamber attendant in his master’s harem. He had been voluntarily castrated in his mid 20’s to take up work there. His gonads had been removed but he had been allowed to retain his privy member. Over the years it had shriveled and become useless due to lack of use and stimulation. Until recently it had served as a fleshy tube allowing him to pee easily.

I still did not understand what his problem was and more importantly how I could help. At that point he broke down and burst into tears. There had been an ‘incident’ he said involving one of the masters daughters. He feared repercussions and that under local law he might be executed.

The wretched man had my full sympathy by now. Obviously distraught I pleaded with Zuni to tell me more about the incident he had referred to. I gave him a glass of water and he recomposed himself. He explained there had been a breach of his master’s trust and he feared it might bring scandal and disgrace upon the household. After years of dutiful impotency he had experienced a ‘hard on’. “You mean your penis became enlarged and erect?” I asked, trying to clarify the problem

“Yes,” he said. “One of the daughters in his charge Fatima had noticed the appendage while he was bathing the ladies in the bath. It gave her the taste. She would ask me it fan her on the divan and then taunt and tease me with saucy words of a temptress. Then she started to place her hands down my pants and start fondling my organ. At first I ignored her telling her she was foolish. Then one day while we were in a private room she pulled down my trousers and sucked on my little cock.”

“Then this continued and became a regular event?” I surmised.

“Yes,” he admitted, “The more she did it the larger it got. Now it was a full sized cock to match that of any man. It has become a beast and a demon between my legs. It excites and swells when the ladies promenade their womanly delights. These were joys only his master should indulge in.”

I saw his predicament and asked him what he wanted me to.

”Remove the temptation,”he begged. I resolved to help him.

”You require a penectomy?”

“Yes,” he agreed “But there is no one for hundreds of miles except you who can perform. It must be docked and made harmless again. Please remove it for me.”

“I will have to examine you,” I said. “Go behind the screen and take off your clothes.”

He did as I asked while I prepared my instruments and dressings. “Come out and step onto the examination table,” I instructed him.

I told him to squat on all fours like a dog and asked him widen his groin and project his buttocks into the air. I examined his crotch carefully. The scrotum and balls were missing. There were scars that appeared long healed up. There was no possibility of him producing semen and impregnating any of the women in his charge.

I put on rubber gloved and placed two fingers up his anus to try determine the condition of his prostrate. As I did so I noticed the penis was swelling and becoming stimulated by my examination. I concluded that penectomy was the only solution to his predicament. Having been roused from its atrophy there was no other way of preventing spontaneous hard-ons.

I told him to turn over and lie with his back on the table. He complied and spread his legs apart. The penis was fully erect by now. It was large at least ten inches with a wide girth. It was a substantial sized organ. At the base of the penis as near to crotch as possible I tied a piece of string tightly as a tourniquet. The erect penis wobbled and dangled helplessly took a large hooked scalpel and told him to brace himself. With a quick, single effortless slicing action the penis came away. It was so quick Zumi had no time to wince or react.

Zumi seemed so relieved it was as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Repeatedly he kept thanking me. I said it was the least I could do and that it would remain our secret. Despite protests I would not accept payment. I just felt pleased that I had been able to help a fellow human being. I gave him advice on changing the dressing and told him to remove the plastic tube in about ten days. I saw no reason why it should not heal successfully.

I thought that this professional diversion into human operations had been a one off act of charity, but I failed to understand the power of word and mouth and the acquisition of reputation. In this remote part of Saudi Arabia I was probably the only gel dress for hundreds of miles. The harem is a closed world with its own protocols and needs. It was a conservative world which coexisted with the real public world. Secretive and guarded as they were a ‘grapevine’ of discreet information flowed between them.

Ones reputation and standing in any profession is important. My skill and ability to perform safe and problem free gelding were, I was to find, in much demand in this remote part of Yemen. As safe, competent gelder is worth his or her weight in gold.The local bush telegraph was soon buzzing with my involvement with Zumi. Soon this new found reputation would lead me into many new adventures which I will be only too delighted to reminisce.