C.U.T.

Chapter 1

The advertisement, for some unknown reason, caught my eye immediately. It read:

Unattached male, 21-35, needed for scientific experiment. Very good pay for right man.

Must be willing to take orders from women. Write to Box 3792, City, State, Zip, with qualifications

and telephone number.

I was certainly unattached, since the divorce became final two years ago. I'd never been very good at meeting women, and somehow had never found another one who held any attraction for me. My job as a computer programmer had been eliminated in a cost-cutting move, and the unemployment compensation had run out several weeks ago. My savings account was almost non-existent, and nobody was hiring. That made the "very good pay" part sound good to me.

The part that held me riveted, though, was the sentence that referred to taking orders from women. I had always been subservient to my former wife, and liked nothing better than for her to be in charge and to tell me what to do. It was probably that single thing more than any other that led to our breakup. One of the last things she said to me was that she was fed up with being married to a wimp who was more boy than man, and that she was going to start looking for someone who at least had opinions of his own.

All in all, it seemed that the advertisement had been written for me alone, and I wasted no time writing a short letter stating that I was unattached, desperate for employment, and liked nothing better than taking orders from women. I just hoped that my remaining money would last until someone called in response to my letter.

When my telephone rang four days later, I answered on the first ring. I'm sure my voice sounded anxious, and that described my state of mind perfectly. My job applications were supposedly being "reviewed" by several companies, and since I had no relatives and no friends, the call had to be from one of them. It simply didn't occur to me that my response to the "unattached male" advertisement would be the reason for the call, but that's what it was.

The voice on the other end of the line was female, of no discernible age, and totally in command of the situation. The woman first thanked me for responding, then said that my qualifications seemed to be in line with their requirements. She then said something that left me in total confusion for several seconds, "We do have one other requirement, though, that needs to be met. We must have a nude photograph, and in the photograph your penis must be totally erect."

I don't know that I made any sort of intelligible response at all, but probably merely stammered in confusion. She laughed softly, then continued, "You see, we must be sure that you are not in the employ of any type of police organization. If you were, and you furnished such a photo to us, that would constitute entrapment, and any charges would be thrown out of court. I'm sure you understand."

I was finally able to regain control of myself, and said that I could certainly understand that requirement, but that I was concerned that the job offer was for something that would require me to do something illegal. The woman was quite understanding, and reassured me that my participation in the experiment would be entirely legal in all respects. She further assured me that if I were called for an interview after a private investigator had checked my background, and the photo had been received, all my questions would be answered.

After we said our good-byes, I sat in a chair for several minutes reviewing what had been said. Nothing at all concerning the nature of the job had been said, and I knew nothing more now than I had after reading the advertisement. I would be required to send an embarrassing photograph of myself to a total stranger, and a private detective would soon be doing his best to find whatever "dirt" he could about me. What had I gotten myself into now?

One look at the remaining balance in my checkbook was all it took to strengthen my resolve. With luck, I could stretch out my funds for about thirty days. After that, I would have to take my belongings to a pawn shop. The thought of parting with my beloved computer was almost more than I could bear, and I knew that I really had no choice but to do as the woman required.

Other than my computer equipment, the one expensive thing I still owned was a digital camera. One of its features was a self-timer, which allowed me to position it, press a button, then get in front of the lens before the photo was taken. That would serve to capture an image of my nude body, which could then be downloaded to the computer and printed. The problem, as it turned out, was maintaining an erection while getting the camera primed, and myself positioned in front of it.

Thanks to some S&M magazines I had bought for solitary "entertainment", the deed was finally done, and soon I had a reasonably good nude photo printed out. I had never in my life seen such a picture of myself, and was almost embarrassed by how small my cock looked. The thought of mailing that photo to a stranger, and a woman at that, was almost more than I could bear. However, I knew that the thing was as large as I could make it, and my bank account was growing smaller by the day, so the picture was soon in the mail.

When the phone rang four days later, I was not surprised to again hear the woman's voice. She wasted little time on preliminaries, but merely said, "Thank you for sending us the photograph, David. I'm sure it was embarrassing for you to show a stranger just how small your penis is, but that is actually in your favor. You see, we've found that men with small equipment are much better suited to our needs. Those of your sex who have larger things seem to be inordinately proud of it, and it takes us much longer to bend their will. I venture to say that we'll have no such problems with you."

I stammered out my reply that I was completely ready to do whatever the job required, and asked if her call meant that I had been hired. She responded, "Based upon the results of the background investigation, and the photograph, I am prepared to offer you employment with our organization. The final decision, however, rests with you. The next step is a face-to-face interview, at which time I'll explain in detail what will be involved. If, following that meeting, you are still interested in the job, then it's yours. In any case, you will be given $500 as compensation for your time and effort in responding to our advertisement."

My pleasure at hearing that, and knowing that even if I weren't hired I'd be $500 richer, must have been evident when I asked her where I should go for the interview. She chuckled softly at my enthusiasm, saying, "I hope you're as eager once you've learned just what will be required of you, David. Most men would run out the door as fast as possible. It'll be interesting to see your reaction."

She then continued, "Once you've learned the details, you'll understand why we need to be very cautious when contacting job applicants. With that said, I ask for your forbearance in what will be required for you to meet with me."

I again tried to assure her that I had no reservations, and was ready to come to her immediately. She cut me off by saying, "The interview will be conducted tonight, at approximately 9:00. You will be brought here in one of our cars, by a route that you will be unable to retrace. Following the meeting, you will be returned to your home."

She then told me to be standing on the street corner by my apartment no later than 8:30 that evening, and when a dark blue automobile pulled to the curb beside me, to immediately open the rear door and get in. With no further words of instruction, she then said good bye and hung up.

I was almost overwhelmed by how fast events were proceeding. In less than four hours, I was supposed to be standing on a street corner, prepared to enter a strange vehicle. I would be taken to an unknown location, for what was purportedly a job interview, but could be virtually anything else. I began to wonder if my life would be in danger, or if I would be kidnapped. The only reassuring aspect in the whole situation was the calm, refined voice on the telephone. Surely a woman who was obviously well-educated and in a position of responsibility didn't represent a danger to me.

In any event, I walked out the front door of my apartment building at 8:25 p.m.. Before I had even reached the street corner, I heard a vehicle slowly approaching from behind me. When I turned, I saw a limousine that looked to be almost black in the light from the lamppost. As it stopped beside me, I could tell that it was indeed dark blue, and then when the lock on the rear door released with a subdued click, knew that the moment of decision was at hand. With no hesitation, I opened the door and got in the car.

I had never in my life been in such a vehicle. Everything reeked of money and elegance, from the plush leather seats to the built in bar. There was a darkened window between me and the driver, and if not for the voice that suddenly spoke to me, I would have thought the car to be remotely operated.

It was a man's voice that came through a speaker behind my head, saying, "Good evening, sir. I am Robert, your driver. I am to take you to one of our local offices, where you will meet with the Mistress. The drive will take approximately fifteen minutes, so please feel free to partake of any beverages you find in the refrigerator in front of you. Enjoy your ride, sir." With that, the speaker clicked, and I was alone once more.

The refrigerator was stocked with several different liqueurs, most of which I didn't recognize. The bottle of beer was familiar, and so that is what I chose. As I sipped, the limousine rolled smoothly along. Our route was a complete mystery, however, since all the windows were darkened. Even streetlights could not penetrate them, and I once again had the troubling thought that I was little better than a prisoner. Again, I resolved to rely on the good intentions of my caller, and settled back in the seat, ready to meet whatever fate would bring.

I was aware of the car slowing, and then stopping. Almost immediately the door beside me opened, and the chauffeur asked me to accompany him to the Mistress' office. As I got out of the car, I could see that we were in a large garage, and that there were several other vehicles parked nearby. None of them had company names painted on them, as I had hoped to see, so I was still in the dark as to the company that was hiring my services.

Robert escorted me to an elevator door, and when we were inside, punched one of the buttons. We rose silently for several seconds, and then the door opened again. We walked down a plushly-carpeted hallway and, after the other man had softly knocked, entered an unmarked door. There was a woman seated behind a large desk in the center of the room, and as she dismissed the driver I recognized her voice as that of my caller.

I stood in front of the desk, looking at a woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties. She was not beautiful, but was certainly attractive. Her air of authority told me in no uncertain terms just who was in charge, and I stood silently waiting for her to begin the interview.

She at last closed the folder that she had been reading, and looked directly at me. She nodded, as if to confirm my identity to herself, and then reached in one of the desk drawers and brought forth a folder that was the twin of the one already on her desk. After opening the folder, she took out the photograph that I had mailed to her, and placed it on the desk in front of her. She said in a quiet voice, "Please remove your clothing now, David."

I hesitated, as anyone would in that situation. She didn't say another word, just continued to look expectantly at me. Finally I concluded that my only other choice was to leave, and that was no longer an option, since I had come this far and was now committed.

I unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and draped it across the chair setting beside me. My shoes were loafers, so I easily stepped out of them, then bent over to remove my socks. As my hands reached the waistband of my trousers, I again hesitated. As before, I decided there was nothing to be gained by not complying with her request, so unbuckled my belt, unfastened and unzipped my trousers, and then removed them.

It took a great deal of resolve for me to remove my undershorts, but finally they were laying on the chair with the rest of my clothes. I wanted to hold my hands protectively in front of my crotch, but fought that urge. I knew that my cock was as shrunken as it had ever been, and was embarrassed, but at the same time curiously excited by the situation.

The woman looked directly at my little penis, shook her head and said simply, "Oh, my." She then looked at my face and issued her second order. "David, please achieve erection now."

I had been both dreading and anticipating her request, and I was sure it would be issued. By that time I was simply in her power, and could see no other reasonable course of action. My hands began to fondle my cock and balls, in a futile attempt to get a hard-on. No matter what I did, the thing wouldn't cooperate, and in fact seemed to shrink even more.

She again reached into the folder where my nude photo had been, this time drawing out another of the same size. She placed it on the desktop, saying simply, "Perhaps this will help."

The photograph seemed to freeze me in time. I was aware of nothing else, and my eyes saw nothing else. What I was seeing there had been my predominant fantasy for so long that I was sure it had finally come true and someone had taken a photo of me in that situation.

I saw a naked man suspended by a rope tied around his wrists. His penis was not much larger than mine, but it was fully erect. His legs were held widespread by some sort of device, about five feet long, that had been tied to his ankles. The woman who was now seated behind the desk was also in the photo, but she was fully clothed. She was holding a large whip in one hand, and I could see that she was swinging it directly at the man's cock. That she had been whipping him for some time was evident in the stripes that covered his chest and stomach. What simply riveted my eyes to the picture were the stripes on his cock and balls.

I don't know how long I stared at that photograph, but I was finally brought back to reality by her voice saying softly, "That's better. I thought you'd like that one."

It was then I realized that my cock was rock hard, and my hand was stroking it. It was all I could do to take away my hand, but I knew that if I didn't my semen would soon spurt all over her desk. Again I stood quietly waiting for her to continue the interview, if that's what it was.

She said, "Your reaction to that photo tells me more than anything else that you're the right choice for this job. I'm sure that you would like to hear more of the details, so I'll tell you now. You are being offered employment in an organization named 'Cunts United in Technology', or 'CUT', as we like to call it. As you have surely guessed by now, all members of CUT are dominant women, and the purpose of the organization is to further the enjoyment we gain by giving pain to men through sexual torture. That photograph is one example, and a very mild one at that, of some of the things we do to men."

"Our group was founded by a very wealthy woman, whom we call the Grand Mistress, approximately three years ago. She had married at a young age, to a man who had inherited a great deal of money. He had also inherited an uncanny ability to guess which stocks, which businesses, which real estate, and which assets would appreciate in the future. Because of that ability, his fortune soon increased beyond any possible need."

"As their marriage progressed, so too did their interest in a relationship wherein she was dominant and he was submissive. It is absolutely true that men who are dominant in business are submissive in their sexual relationships. You can call it the 'duality of mind', as philosophers do, or think of it as the yin and yang, as do some Orientals. In any case, as she became more aggressive and dominant, he became more submissive. As is usually the case, bondage and discipline soon became sadism and masochism. She began to find increased enjoyment and arousal as the severity of the tortures increased. There was no 'toy' that was not available for her to use on him, and the dungeon in the basement of their home was the most well-equipped in the entire world."

"Finally even the most extreme tortures she could think of began to pale, and she became increasingly fascinated by the thought of removing his genitals. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that once his 'playthings' were removed, they could no longer enjoy their entertainments. It seemed a problem without a solution."

"She at last arrived at a possible solution, and employed a large number of private investigators to locate the right person to help her carry it out. The person they found met her specifications perfectly. He was a highly-trained surgeon who had become unable to practice his profession at any hospital. It seems that he was homosexual, as well as sadistic. One night when both he and his partner had too much to drink, he castrated the poor fellow and then performed a total penectomy on him. For some reason, his partner objected to that, and went to the police when he sobered up."

"A high-priced lawyer got him off with nothing but probation, but of course his medical career was ruined. That made him a prime candidate to help the Grand Mistress achieve her goal. As soon as she told the defrocked surgeon of her plan, and made him an offer he couldn't refuse, he jumped at the opportunity."

"Her plan was to castrate her husband, and to remove his penis, in small steps. She wanted the surgeon to guide her use of the knife, and then to nurse the man back to health so that she could then remove the next piece. The doctor was very enthusiastic, as you can imagine. He was being offered the chance to vent his sadistic nature, to practice his profession, and to become very wealthy. In addition, he wouldn't have to worry about malpractice insurance." As she said that, her face broke into a smile at her joke.

I tried to join in her humor, but my mind was simply frozen in place by the story she had been relating to me. As I visualized myself strapped to an operating table, with my cock and balls being removed in small pieces, until they were finally completely gone, I was almost unable to breathe with my arousal. My hand had again strayed to my erection, and I had to force it back to my side.

She continued, "Their first session featured all the fun things that the Grand Mistress had been doing to her husband for several months. As the three of them became more and more aroused, the 'victim' was tied to an X-beam fastened to the wall. Under the surgeon's guidance, she opened her husband's sac and carefully removed one of his testes. It was left attached to him for several hours, as various new and inventive tortures were applied to it. The doctor used all his considerable skills, as well as a plentiful supply of drugs, to keep the man awake and responsive."

"Finally, the testis was no longer able to feel any further pain. It was then removed, the cord tied off, and the sac sutured. The man was then taken to a miniature hospital that had been equipped in a room next to the dungeon, and he received the best medical care possible until he made a complete recovery."

"When her husband was again ready to be tortured, another session was held. At the end of that one, the head of his penis was destroyed and then removed. Again he was nursed back to health, and during the third session about one inch of the shaft of his penis was cut off."

"It was about then that the Grand Mistress realized that even with the best of care, her husband's genitals would one day be entirely gone. While watching some nature show on television one afternoon, she had what is called a "Eureka!" moment. The show was about lizards, and one segment featured a species that can regrow a tail that has been detached."

"She put two and two together, and knew that the answer to her problem was at hand. When she described what she wanted done to her co-conspirator, he jumped at the chance to head the project, and began immediately to recruit the best available people in the field. That field, of course, was study of the human genome as it's related to stem-cell research, and human growth-factor hormones."

"A first-class research facility was soon in place in a location that I won't reveal to you at this time. Everyone there, except the surgeon, thought they were researching ways to regrow digits and limbs that had been accidentally detached. The Grand Mistress and the doctor knew the true purpose was to develop a method that could be used to cause a man's body to grow a second set of genitals, after the first had been removed by sexual torture. I guess you could say that the means were the same, but the goal was somewhat different."

"By the time the researchers had progressed to the point of applying their technique to a laboratory rat, our leader's husband had less than half of his penis remaining, and just the single testis. When the rat's genitals were removed, and the stem-cell injections, followed by growth-factor hormones, were concluded, the Grand Mistress took up residence at the facility to observe the results. She was ecstatic when the first tiny buds of a penis and the testes appeared, and even more so six weeks later when the new genitals exceeded in size that of the originals. You can imagine her excitement when the rat's equipment stopped growing at three months, and his new penis was more than twice the size of his first."

"The same procedure was then applied to a chimpanzee. You may not know this, but the genetic makeup of a chimp is virtually identical to that of a human, so the scientists were sure that any technique that worked in one case would apply to the other."

"Again, the results were outstanding, although the growth period was six months long. By the time the chimp's penis was fully grown, it was easily seven inches long, which was almost twice the size of the original."

"That brings us to the present, and to your potential involvement with out organization. You have probably guessed just exactly what your role is to be." Here she paused and looked directly at me. All I could do was mutely nod my head to signify that I did know what was to happen. She continued, "If you accept the job offer, you'll be taken to our research facility. Once there, your testicles and your penis will be removed by whatever method the Grand Mistress chooses to use on you. I'm afraid that it will prove somewhat painful for you, as she is really quite inventive when it comes to that area."

"Once your crotch is smooth, the injections will be made, and the progress of the re-growth will be observed. If everything proceeds as expected, your new genitals will have reached full size in approximately eight months. Again, if everything goes as expected, your new penis will be easily ten inches long, and probably more. Its diameter should be at least 2 1/2". Quite an improvement, don't you agree?"

I struggled to respond, needing to clear my throat several times before it would let me speak. Finally I said simply, "Yes."

She continued, "I assume that you're interested in the compensation that goes with this job. I can tell you that you will receive at least $50,000 for your participation. The Grand Mistress is well know for 'tipping' men who perform well at her sessions, so that part is up to you. All in all, eight months of your time could easily net you $75,000. Of course, the new penis that will be more adequate in size could be viewed as compensation also." She smiled at that, openly staring at my tiny cock which was a raging erection by that time.

She then told me that the interview was at an end, and I could get dressed. As I put on my clothes, the door behind me opened and the chauffeur entered. She handed me what looked to be an ordinary cellular telephone, saying, "I will expect your response in no more than 48 hours. To reach me, simply press the 'Redial' button on this phone. When I answer, say either 'Yes' or 'No.' If your answer is in the affirmative, I'll give you instructions at that time for our second meeting. Is that clear?"

Again I nodded my head, and said quietly, "Yes." My mind was in a turmoil, and I was very glad that she had given me time to arrive at my decision.

Finally she dismissed me, giving instructions to Robert to return me to the pickup point. She then handed me a sealed envelope, telling me that it contained the $500 that had been promised. I then followed the other man from the room, and we returned to the car. I recall very little of the ride home, but must have arrived there, since that's where I'm writing this.

I still haven't arrived at a final decision, and there are now fewer than six hours remaining until the deadline. Should I try to get by in my present situation, keeping the cock and balls that have been with me all my life? Or should I accept the job and the money, knowing that my things will be removed in what will probably be a very painful manner, followed, hopefully, by the re-growth of my new, much larger, cock? Maybe I'll just flip a coin to make the decision. My mind is almost non-functional now, so maybe that's the best way.

Wish me luck.