Gilly, Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, I awakened before Brad did, and lay there thinking about what had happened last night. I knew it was crucial that I do everything possible to continue our talks about the subject, otherwise he'd probably once again slip behind his inhibitions against discussing such a sensitive thing. As I resolved to continue our conversation as soon as he awakened, he began to stir.

I reached under the covers, and began to lightly caress his naked body. When I placed my hand on his penis, it was hard as a rock. I was sure that he'd been dreaming about the movie, and probably about the things he wanted me to do to him.

As soon as I was sure he was awake, I said, "Good morning, lover. That must be the fastest-growing hunk of meat in the world. I'm sure I cut it off at least a dozen times in my dreams last night."

As he came fully awake, he was already humping my hand. I asked, "Did you have good dreams too?" He hesitated for several seconds before finally replying that he had, and I asked him to describe them for me. I kept my hand busy in his crotch to give him more incentive, and he began telling me what he could remember of his dreams.

"I don't remember all the dreams. The one that I do recall was a lot like the movie, though. You took me out in the back yard and made me get undressed, then tied me to the birch tree by the garage. You took off your clothes, and I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful person in the whole world."

"My cock was already hard, but when you started playing with it, it seemed to get lots bigger and harder. You kept telling me that as soon as it got as big as possible, you were going to cut my balls off. The more you played with my dick, the bigger it got, until finally it looked like it was at least two feet long. You then knelt down in front of me and took a knife out of your purse. I remember plain as day how you started to cut open my ball sac, and then how you pulled out my balls. You took both of them in one hand and stretched them way out in front of me, then held the knife against the cords."

"I remember you looking up at me, then asking me what I wanted you to do. I can still hear myself saying, 'Please cut them off me. They're yours, please take them.' You began to slowly move the knife across the cords, and then sliced through them. You were holding my balls in your hand. That's when I woke up."

By the time he reached the end of his story, I had his erection in a death grip and he was bucking his hips, masturbating himself with my hand. I heard him groan, and then felt his dick spasm as it pumped out his semen. When his orgasm was spent, I continue to caress his genitals, and said, "That was just about the hottest thing I've ever heard. Tonight, I'll tell you about my dream, and you can see if it's as hot as yours."

His cock was still hard, and he begged me to tell him right then. I knew that he needed to be more aroused before I wasted my story-telling abilities on him, so I put him off by saying that I needed to go pee, and then we both needed to get started on our usual Saturday chores around the house. I promised that the dream I'd tell him about that night would be worth the wait. I was sure that was the truth, since I'd been working on the details of it for several days now, and it incorporated some of the pictures and stories he had in the garage. It looked to be a pretty hot night for him.

I'm sure Brad thought that Saturday was the longest day in his memory. He pestered me all day to tell him my dream, and I could see by the bulge in his pants that he was aroused most of the time. That was just exactly the way I wanted him, and his being turned on would just make my job easier.

The only problem I had was making sure that he didn't sneak out to the garage and jack off, as I was sure was his usual practice on the weekends. When he mowed the back yard, especially the area around the garage, I sat on the steps to "keep him company" as he worked. When he was mowing in front of the house, and I heard the lawn mower engine stop, I'd look out the window. If he seemed to be heading for the garage, I'd make up some excuse to go outside. All-in-all, I'm sure that he was quite frustrated by the time we dressed to go out for dinner.

It was unusual for me to be in the bathroom at the same time as he was, but this time I didn't want him to be standing in the shower all by himself. It would be too easy for him to grab his stiffie and start pumping it, relying on the running water to get rid of the "evidence" of his orgasm. When he went into the bathroom to take his shower, I suggested that we should shower together as we used to do when we were first married. His slight hesitation proved to me that he had been planning to masturbate in the shower, and only reinforced my plan to keep him from cumming until much later that night.

As soon as he undressed, I could see that his penis was as hard as a rock. The wet spot on the front of his undershorts confirmed my guess that he'd been turned on most of the day, and I knew that if I could keep him from climaxing for a few more hours, he'd be putty in my hands.

As we stood in the shower, I handed him the bar of soap and asked him to wash me as he used to do years ago. He lathered my back first, then I turned around so he could do the front. He lingered a long time on my breasts, and then knelt down. I turned once again, and he washed my butt and the backs of my legs. He spent lots of time washing my crack, and then when I turned again, concentrated all his efforts on my pussy. By the time he was finally finished, I must have had the cleanest cunt in the world.

I then returned the favor and lathered his body. I didn't want to stimulate him too much by stroking his cock, so just barely touched it. He kept thrusting it toward my hands, almost begging me to stroke it. I finally finished, and we rinsed off and got out of the shower. As we dressed, his cock was constantly bobbing around, and then was reduced to a bulge in his shorts and then his trousers. I wondered if he'd still be hard as we walked to our table in the restaurant. I was hoping that he would be, and that the other people there would see his state of arousal, and he'd be embarrassed.

As Brad drove us to the restaurant, I sat beside him with my hand on his erection. I know he was in constant torment from his need to cum, and he was still hard as a rock as we walked to the door. While we were waiting to be seated, I whispered in his ear, "I wonder how many of the men here have been neutered by their wives? I'll bet there are some. See that couple sitting in the third booth? I bet his crotch is smooth as can be. She probably did him a long time ago."

A quick glance at his crotch told me that he was still hard, and when he held his hands in front of himself to try to hide the fact, it only served to draw attention to what he wanted to conceal. As we were escorted to our booth, he tried to walk closely behind me, but I immediately moved to his side. I saw several people glance at his crotch and knew they could see the bulge there. By the time we were seated, his face was as red as a beet, and I was secretly pleased.

It took over an hour to finish our meal, and by the time we arrived at our home, it was completely dark. It was still fairly early, but the mountain range a few miles west of us, and the fact that we're close to the east edge of our time zone, means that night comes sooner here than most places.

Brad drove the car into the garage and we got out and headed for the house. I paused as we exited the garage and pointed to the birch tree just barely visible in the glow from the streetlights. "Is that the tree you were tied to last night?" He must have nodded his head in answer, because I didn't hear him say anything. I grabbed his stiffie through his pants, and said angrily, "Answer me when I ask a question, damn you!"

He groaned from the pain I was giving him, as well as the increased arousal he was feeling. He finally said in a low voice, "Yes." I gripped his balls roughly and started walking toward the tree, ordering him to follow me. Of course, his only other choice was to stand there while his balls went with me.

It was probably only three or four steps to the tree, but by the time we reached it, his breathing was ragged and he was moaning almost constantly. When I told him to get undressed, he suddenly "sobered up", saying, "But somebody may see us." I reassured him that nobody could possibly see us, since not only was it dark out, but there were six foot hedges along both sides of our property.

He still hesitated, so I again ordered him to strip, this time using a harsher tone of voice. I felt a thrill in my crotch as he began to unbutton his shirt. This little test of wills had proved to me that he would follow my orders, and I was sure that in a few short weeks when I ordered him to get on the table in the club, he'd do it.

When he was naked, I told him to stand with his back to the tree, and then pulled his hands behind the trunk. I said, "Your wrists are tied together with a piece of rope, and you can't move them." I released his arms and he held them in place, going along with the fantasy.

I then walked around in front of him, and knelt there. Even though it was dark, I could see his wildly jerking cock in the faint light from the streetlights and the neighbor's houses. A large drop of pre-cum was glistening in the dim light, and it looked for all the world like a firefly bouncing up and down.

His sac was drawn up tight to his body, and I took it in my hand and began to squeeze and stretch it. Soon it was hanging down loosely, and I said, "Your balls are totally worthless. They should be cut off and thrown across the fence for the neighbor's dog to eat. At least then they'd do a little bit of good. Do you want me to cut them off you now?"

He was breathing raggedly and thrusting his hips back and forth by that time, lost in his fantasy. I slapped his nuts to get his attention, and said, "Answer me! Are you ready for me to castrate you?" That brought him back to reality for a second or two, and he managed to say, "Yes. Please take them now. Feed them to the dog. Please."

I held his sac in my left hand and traced a line down the middle with a fingernail on my right, saying, "I'm cutting you open with my knife now. You can feel the blade opening your sac." I then took one nut in each hand and told him, "Your sac is cut open now, and I'm spreading it so your balls will fall out." While pulling his nuts downward, I said, "Now your naked balls are hanging from the cords, just waiting for my knife. I'm going to slice them off now, then throw them over the fence to the dog."

At that precise moment, his hips thrust forward and his cock began to spurt. I gripped it tightly and pumped it, all the time saying things like, "See how good it feels to have your balls cut off. You love the feeling of being nutless. I just now cut off your worthless little balls, and you love it. The thought of being castrated makes you hotter than ever."

Finally his spurts stopped, and his hips came to rest. I stood up and pulled his arms around me, kissing him deeply. He hugged me so tightly that it was difficult to breathe, and his kiss was one of the most passionate he'd ever given me. I could feel his cock still monstrously stiff, and pressing against my body. The fact that he had so easily cooperated with the fantasy, and was obviously still turned on by it, made me very happy, and once again I thought ahead to the time when his castration would be more than just a fantasy.

After he picked up his clothes, we walked to the house. As we walked, I asked him how he had liked what we'd just done. He said, "I can't describe it. It was simply the best thing you've ever done. I wanted it to go on forever, but I simply couldn't hold back any longer. Can we do it again sometime?"

I laughed softly, then stopped and drew him to me. I whispered in his ear, "We can do it lots more times. Maybe one of these days, I'll invite some of the neighborhood women over to watch. I'll turn on the yard light so they can see you tied naked to the tree. Maybe we'll all take off our clothes so you can see our tits and pussies. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He whispered hoarsely, "God, yes! Just thinking about it is making me hot again. What else would you do?"

"After you'd been tied to the tree, and everyone stripped, we'd make fun of your worthless little balls and your itty-bitty little pee-pee. I'd tell them that I couldn't even feel your cock when you put it in me, and they'd say that it was the smallest thing they'd ever seen. They'd tell me that it would be best just to cut off everything down there, since it was too small to be of any use to anyone. We'd talk about the best way to neuter you, and finally we'd all agree on a method, and then I'd use it to make you all nice and smooth. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

By then he was pressing his erection against me, and thrusting his hips back and forth. I knew that my story had brought him back to a state of arousal almost as high as he'd been in a few minutes before. He had to clear his throat several times before he could speak, but finally whispered, "Yes. I want you to do it to me. Please cut off everything. Please."

I whispered back, "Soon lover, soon. Your cock and balls are mine now, and one of these days they'll be floating in a jar beside the bed." I then turned and again walked to the house, leading him by a death grip on his nuts.

After we were inside the house, I told him to just drop his clothes on the floor, since I wanted him to be naked the rest of the night. He was quick to obey, since he was now being driven by his hard-on, and his brain was in "Park". I wanted to keep him that way as long as possible, and as much as possible between now and our upcoming visit to the back room in the club.

He immediately started to head for our bedroom, and I said, "It's too early to go to bed just yet. Why don't you get us some wine, and we can drink it in the living room? I need to go to the bathroom now, so you get the drinks and bring them to the couch." As I walked down the hallway to the bathroom, I saw him heading for the kitchen, seemingly led by the erection that was pointing the way. I smiled as I had the thought that most men are led around by their cocks, and my husband was certainly no different in that respect.

When I entered the living room, Brad was already there with a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses. As I sat down on the couch, he poured a drink and handed it to me, then poured one for himself and sat beside me. We sipped the wine for a couple of minutes, then I decided it was time to get him a little more excited.

I said, "You know, just thinking and talking about castrating a man get me hotter than Hell. It's strange that I've never had thoughts like that, but yet they're suddenly so intense. Have you had fantasies about being castrated before last night, when we watched that movie?"

He hesitated long enough for me to notice, so I encouraged him by saying, "Surely you don't need to hold back now. We just walked in from the back yard, where I had you tied to the tree. I'm the one who castrated you and threw your worthless balls across the fence to the neighbor's dog. Remember?"

He smiled, then admitted it was pretty silly to try to hide anything from me, then started his story. "You know that I was raised on a farm, and I guess I had my first fantasy about it then. Back when I was just a little kid, we raised sheep. I don't mean just a small flock of sheep; I mean hundreds of them. We raised them for the wool, mainly, but also sold some for mutton, and as breeding pairs."

"The males that weren't going to be kept as breeders were castrated, and because there were so many of them, everybody had to help. We had three squeeze chutes that the rams would be herded through, and that's where they'd be castrated. We usually had three hired hands to help on the ranch, and with Mom, Dad, and my sister Jean, that meant that all of us were kept pretty busy getting the sheep in the chutes, squeezed in place, and then castrated."

"Both Mom and Dad were cutters, and one of the hired hands took the third chute. The other hands, along with Jean and I, would herd the rams through the chutes and get them in the squeeze gates. When they'd been castrated, they'd leave the chutes and run back to the pasture. It was a pretty quick process, actually. A sheep would be herded into the squeeze chute, held in place, castrated, and then released in less than two minutes."

"The one day that stands out in my memory happened when the hired hand who was the other cutter was sick and had to go home. We had a whole pen full of rams that needed castrating, with another truckful due the next day. Dad said there was no way that just he and Mom could get done in time. The other hands were not all that bright, and Dad didn't think they could handle the knife well enough to keep from injuring the sheep."

"Jean volunteered to take the third chute, saying that she'd watched them doing it for quite awhile, and was sure she could do it with no problem. Dad was desperate by then, so he agreed to give her a try. He watched her cut a couple of rams, and then said she was good enough at it that she could do it without him watching, so he went back to his own chute."

"It was my job to herd the sheep in to Jean's chute, then operate the squeeze gate to hold them in place while she did the cutting. It was just another job for quite awhile, then as I watched her working, I began to get an erection. I was twelve years old then, so I'd had those before, but never while watching someone castrating a sheep."

"Jean would have been sixteen then, and you know how good-looking she is now. She was just as pretty then. I don't think I had any sort of sexual feeling for her then, but when I saw her handling the sheep's balls, it was exciting to me."

"I stood behind her and forced one of the sheep into the squeeze chute by using an electric prod. Once he was in the chute, I'd pull a big lever that moved one side of the chute closer to the other, and that would squeeze against the animal and hold him in place. Jean would reach between his back legs and grab his sac, then pull it down and back. It always amazed me how the ram would be fighting against the chute, but as soon as she squeezed his nuts, he'd stand still and just sort of shiver. After what you've been doing to my balls since last night, I can understand why that happened."

"She'd hold the sac in her left hand, and then make a small slice with the cutter right in the center of it. The cut was only about an inch long, and Dad always said 'The shorter, the better'. I guess the chance of infection was less if the incision was a short as possible."

"After she'd made the cut, she'd squeeze the balls through it one at a time. She'd then let go of the sac and take the balls in her left hand and pull them down quite a ways. With one swipe of the knife, they were cut off, and then she'd toss them in a bucket setting beside her."

"I must have watched her cutting for about an hour before I realized that I had a hard-on. My cock was pointing sideways in my pants, which made it really stand out, even as little as it was then. Jean glanced at me, then smiled and whispered, 'Did you want to be next, little brother?' I'm sure my face was as red as the barn, and I was so embarrassed that I almost cried. She told me to not worry about it, because it happened to the hired hands too, especially when they saw Mom doing the cutting."

"It had never occurred to me that such a thing was going on, but I decided to find out for myself. When Jean said it was time for a break, I casually wandered over to the chute were Mom was cutting. Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at the hand who was working her chute, and could see a bulge in his pants. I was sure that he was erect, just as I had been a little while ago."

"That night I jacked-off twice while thinking about Jean and her knife. I fantasized about being naked and being herded into her chute on my hands and knees, and then squeezed in place. I fought against the enclosure until she reached between my legs and grabbed my balls. When she pulled them back, I stopped moving. I looked back between my legs and could see her making the incision in my sac, then squeezing my balls out into the palm of her hand. When she sliced them off and tossed them in the bucket, I started cumming. I've had that fantasy ever since, and it still makes me shoot my wad."

I could see that his fantasy was still good for him, because his dick was once again jerking around, trailing strings of pre-cum behind it. I hugged him to me, and said, "Thank you very much for telling me that story. I just wish that you'd told me long ago, so I could have been thinking about it too. I'm so damned hot now that I can hardly stand it. Let's go to bed."

We hurried to our bedroom, and once there I told him to undress me slowly, kissing and licking everything he found. It was amazing to me that he actually did a pretty good job of it, and by the time I was naked, and he was kneeling in front of me with his tongue buried in my pussy, I was right on the edge of cumming. It was almost enough to make me regret my decision to neuter him, but then I compared his pitiful attempts to lick my cunt with Janis' expert efforts, and once again knew that it was the right decision.

As we got on the bed, I decided to reinforce his training a little more before allowing him to have an orgasm. I knew that he was so hot by then that he'd do anything, or agree to anything, that I asked.

I told him to lie on his back and spread his legs as wide as he could. After he'd done that, I sat on my knees between his legs and started squeezing and pulling on his balls. "Was this how Jean got the rams to stand still? Did she pull on their balls like this?" He tried to speak, but couldn't make his throat work, so nodded his head instead.

I then took one of his nuts in each hand and pulled them in opposite directions, stretching them as far away from his body as I could. He groaned with the pain I was giving him, and that made it all the more thrilling for me. "Are sheep's balls bigger than these little things of yours? Surely they'd have to be, or they wouldn't be worth cutting off. God, I can hardly wait to use my knife on you, and throw your nuts in a bucket."

By that time, he was almost delirious with excitement. His penis was literally jumping around, and the strings of pre-cum were flying like spiderwebs. I knew that it would soon be too late to act, so told him, "Tell me you want me to castrate you. Tell me now!"

It was all he could do to speak, but soon forced out the words in a throaty whisper. ""Yes! I want you to castrate me! Please cut off my balls! Please do it to me!"

I wasn't about to miss this opportunity, so I asked, "Do you want me to cut off your cock when I castrate you? Tell me now!" He was gasping for breath by that time, and it took all his willpower to say, "Yes! Please cut it off me! I want you to cut off my cock! Please!"

That was all I wanted to hear, and I immediately gave him his reward by straddling his crotch and guiding his cock inside my pussy. I think he started cumming before his dick was all the way inside me, and as I rode his wildly bucking hips, I said, "Thank you for giving me your cock and balls. I'm going to cut them off you someday soon. They're mine now, and I'll cut them off when I'm ready."

___________

We continued having sex in that manner every night for the next couple of weeks. He never seemed to lose his high degree of arousal as we watched the movie. He especially liked it when I told him to mute the audio portion of the videotape, and then provided my own dialogue. In my story, it was always him being tied to the wagon wheel, and always me using the knife on him. I made it a point to always tell him to beg me to cut him, and then to reward him with an orgasm as soon as he had. I wanted it to become a force of habit for him to associate his castration and penectomy with the pleasure of sexual release.

Janis and I had met for lunch and munch the Monday following the Friday night when Brad and I had first watched the movie. As we lay in her bed hugging and kissing after our first orgasms, I told her everything that had happened. She was astounded at the progress that I'd made in just three nights, and attributed it to his early interest in castration. She advised me to use his childhood fantasy as the basis for the training I was giving him, and I said that I was already doing that.

We continued to meet a couple of times a week, and it was exciting for both of us when I related what Brad and I had done in bed. Janis especially liked to hear that I was making him beg me to cut off his cock and balls before I'd allow him to cum. Over and over again, she stressed the importance of getting him to believe that his unmanning was his idea alone, and that he was the one pressuring me to do it to him.

It was probably about a month later, as we lay in her bed caressing each other's body, that I told her about my extreme arousal when I thought of cutting off Brad's penis, even more so than doing that to his balls. I asked her if she had ever thought of doing such a thing to Ray. She smiled lazily at me, then got out of bed and told me she'd be right back. I thought that maybe she had to go to the bathroom, so lay there looking around the room and absent-mindedly playing with my nipples.

When she came back into the room, she was holding her hands behind her back, and said, "Now close your eyes. I've got a surprise for you. No peeking." We both laughed at this kid's game, but I went along with it and closed my eyes tightly. I could hear her approach the bed, then sit down beside me. She said, "Okay. Look what Janis has."

I opened my eyes to see her holding a clear-glass jar that was about 12" tall and maybe 6" in diameter. The jar was filled with some sort of clear liquid, and there were three things floating in it. As my eyes focused on the contents of the jar, my brain simply couldn't believe the signals being sent to it. I continued to stare, and finally I understood that I was looking at what simply had to be two testes and a penis.

The cock, if that's what it really was, seemed to be erect. I couldn't believe that a man's dick would remain stiff after it had been cut off him. Surely the blood would have run out of it, and it would have shrunk. I looked at Janis questioningly, asking, "Is that really a penis in there?"

"Yes, my love. That's exactly what it is. And not just any old cock, mind you. It's Ray's. Anyhow, it used to be. It's been mine for about a year now."

I struggled to accept her words, and finally asked, "But why is it still erect? Doesn't all the blood drain out when it's cut off?" She laughed, then said, "Look closely at the bottom end, where it used to be attached to him."

I leaned closer to the jar and stared at the bottom end of the penis floating there. As my eyes focused, I saw that a very thin cord, or maybe thread, had been wrapped so tightly that it had almost sunk out of sight into the shaft. Apparently that had trapped the blood in the cock and kept it from draining as it was cut off.

As soon as that question was answered, another immediately popped into my mind, and I asked, "Did you cut off his cock at the same time as his balls?" She replied, "No. I did his dick about a year after his balls. It just seemed so silly to have a man around with a cock but no balls. I really think it was best that everything finally came off, and I think your idea of cutting everything off at the same time is the best way to go."

Another question followed: "Did you do the penectomy too?", to which she replied, "No. Gilly handled that part for me."

I asked, "Do you mean Milly, the nurse?"

"No. It was Gilly. She joined the club just a couple of years ago. You've never seen her, though. Would you like to meet Gilly the next time we have lunch and munch?"

I told Janis that I certainly did want to meet Gilly. I thought it would be exciting to meet a woman who had cut off a man's penis, or maybe several of them. I wanted to ask her lots of questions, and have her describe the whole thing to me. I had come to realize that the thought of cutting off a man's cock was lots more exciting to me than a "mere" castration.

Janis said that we should plan on meeting at the club on Wednesday, and then she began to again make love to me. As I looked at Ray's cock and balls floating there in the jar, I tried to imagine what Brad's would look like in the same place. As Ray's things were replaced with Brad's, I began to orgasm, and it was surely the longest cum I'd ever had.

Continued in Chapter 4