Chapter 13

I'm sure I was in almost a state of shock by then, for I remember the entire procedure as taking just a few minutes. Surely it had to have used up at least an hour, though, since I remember many different steps.

The doctor first gripped the shrunken thing in one hand, then with no hesitation, he stretched it above my husband's body and with a single swipe of the scalpel severed all but the first one inch of the shaft. Quickly tossing the dead meat in the tray, he made three vertical slices in the stub, then expertly peeled the sections of skin back until they lay on Jack's abdomen. The remainder of the shaft was removed, and then he went to work on tying off what he referred to as "bleeders," which I assume were blood vessels. As soon as he was satisfied, the flaps of skin were laid back over the wound, trimmed, and carefully stitched in place. As he looked up at me and smiled, as if inviting approval for his expertise, I had my first clear view of my husband's crotch, and saw nothing but a flat spot where his dick had once stood above his balls.

The captain said, "That's it, then. Her name is no longer 'Jack.' From this moment forward, she'll be known as 'Jacquelyn' to everyone aboard this ship." That sounded so appropriate that I could do nothing but smile in approval, and offer my congratulations to the doctor for a job well done.

I looked down at my husband's face then, to see how she was accepting her new role, and was startled to see her passed out cold. Apparently, she had been so overcome with arousal as she watched her penectomy being performed that she could no longer stay conscious. I certainly could understand that; she had wanted this to happen for so long that she was undoubtedly overcome with emotion now that it finally had.

I was wondering if maybe everyone else had forgot the part about the partial castration, and was just about to say something. Just then, though, the doctor again picked up the scalpel, and with a single stroke, used it to slice open the wrinkled bag between my husband's wide stretched legs.

Two of the ugliest things I'd ever seen in my entire life slowly oozed their way out of their lifelong prison, and then lay there throbbing in time to what I assumed was Jacquelyn's heartbeat. I then watched in complete fascination as one of the connecting cords was tied off, very close to her crotch. After that had been done, one quick flick of the scalpel reduced my husband to a "one-ball wonder."

The severed orb soon joined it playmate in the metal tray, where it lay like some forlorn pinkish-gray egg, wondering what had happened to its nice, warm home. The doctor wasted no time in staring at it, but instead made several slices to trim away half of the opened sac, and fit the remaining half to Jacquelyn's crotch. He very carefully stitched the thing in place, then stood back to admire his handiwork.

As for me, I thought the transformation was remarkable. What had just minutes before been recognizable as a male crotch now looked more female in form. I was sure that if the operating room had not been so well-lighted that the person lying there unconscious could easily have been mistaken for a woman. The sailors should certainly be appreciative of the doctor's efforts on their behalf.

He then took a second syringe off the table, and with no explanation plunged it deeply into one of Jacquelyn's tiny nipples. He pressed the plunger until one-half the contents had been injected, then repeated the process in the other nipple. Only then did he explain what he was doing, saying, "This chemical was developed to make cows give more milk by stimulating their mammary glands. Many people don't know that males have those kinds of glands, also, and the injections will stimulate your husband's. In a few weeks, she'll have noticeable breasts, and in a couple months they'll be as large as those on other women. Some of the ship's girls who've had these injections actually begin to give milk. I'm sure you can imagine how popular that makes them with those members of the crew who are 'tit freaks,' to use the crude term."

I had been caught totally by surprise by the doctor's comments, since nothing had been said about my husband receiving that particular treatment. It really didn't matter to me, though, and the more I thought about it, the more I came to think that anything that would increase her attractiveness to the crew could be nothing but positive.

I expressed my approval of the treatment, and even asked if the injections could be repeated regularly, in order to stimulate the growth of my husband's breasts even further. Both the captain and the doctor said that could certainly be done, but added that the process was not reversible. Actually, that part didn't matter at all to me, since the person lying there on the operating table would never again be a man anyway, so what difference could it possibly make?

After that, everything was anticlimax. The captain told me that Jacquelyn would be sedated for 48 hours, giving her time to heal and recover, as well as to get the ship to international waters in case anyone decided to investigate her disappearance. I assured him there would be no investigation, since all arrangements had been made to cover my husband's absence.

Accepting my assurances, he then said the new ship's girl would be allowed to rest for one week, after which time she would be taken to her quarters and "pressed into service," in his words. As far as I was concerned, and I knew my husband would agree, that couldn't happen quickly enough. I knew she would be anxious to begin providing the special services embodied in her office, and felt a renewed surge of arousal as I thought once again of the room where the sailors would come for relief.

The captain escorted us to the gangplank, and we were soon returning to our home. Once there, we fucked in every imaginable position for the remainder of the night, and most of the morning. The only bad part about it was that there was no one there to clean up all the messes we made, but somehow we made do. Creative people always find ways to achieve their goals, I guess.

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As I said when I started writing this story, I have been thinking of my husband quite a bit of late. You see, her ship is to return to our city in less than one week, after being at sea for almost six months. As you can imagine, I'm anxious to see her once again, and listen to her recount all the wonderful experiences she had while serving as the ship's girl. I just know she'll be happier than she ever was while living her restricted role here with Cody and me.

Josh sent us a letter about six weeks after their ship had left port here. He also included a photo of Jacquelyn, which showed her strapped face down to the table in her room, with a nude Josh standing behind her. His cock was protruding from her butt less than one inch, so I knew she was enjoying the same sensations he had given me. The captain, equally nude, was standing by her head, and his cock was protruding from her lips by the same amount. Again, I knew my husband had to be almost delirious with arousal as she was allowed to service the two men.

He wrote again when their voyage was about halfway towards completion, and sent another photo of my husband. This time, she was strapped face up on her table, and for the first time I could see her breasts. They were already as large as mine had ever been, but the really exciting part was that Josh was squeezing one of them in both his hands, and I could see a small stream of milk shooting from the nipple and into Josh's open mouth. Jacquelyn's head was hanging off the end of the table, and I could see that Josh's cock was completely buried in her mouth. Both Cody and I had a good laugh, telling each other how the two seemed to enjoy their session of "recycling."

A third letter and photo came about six weeks ago, and it was the best of all, since it must have been the most satisfying part of the whole experience, from my husband's viewpoint, anyway. She was suspended by her wrists, just as she had always wanted, and Josh, the captain, and the doctor were standing in a circle around her. Each man was holding a vicious-looking whip, and judging by the number of stripes and welts on her body, they must have been employing them to the best of their ability.

Best of all, though, was the sight of Jacquelyn's ball. Hanging proudly there, between the legs she was holding spread as wide as she could, was a swollen orb surely as large as a grapefruit, if not larger.

I knew she'd at last achieved the realization of her long-held fantasy, and even if her debasement hadn't come at the hands of her wife and her three lovers, I'm sure she still enjoyed it just as much.

The End.