BOB'S STORY

Chapter 6

The confusion that produced in my racing brain stunned me, and it was only after I was able to overcome it that I responded by pleading, "Please!  I want that more than anything.  Please let me do it."

She replied softly, "I will, honey, one last time.  But there's something we have to do first."  She then reached to the nightstand and handed the gaily-wrapped box to me.  She said, "Before you open it, look at the pretty gift wrapping I got for you.  Do you like it?"

Looking at the paper was the last thing in the world I wanted to do right then, but I did as she asked.  The wrapping was quite attractive, but certainly not all that much out of the ordinary.  The pattern consisted of narrow silver stripes, separated by colored stripes that faded from pink to blue, and then back again.  I finally replied, "It's very pretty.  Thank you for selecting it for me."

She smiled, then said, "Did you notice how the colors change from pink to blue?"  At my nod, she continued, "The lady at the gift shop said it was for "sex-indeterminate" gifts.  She said that people who buy gifts for a baby before it's born like that particular pattern, since the color will be right no matter if it's a boy or girl.  I thought it was particularly appropriate for you, since in many ways you're no longer a man.  Now go ahead and open it.  I think you'll be really excited by what we got for you."

It's a measure of how low I had sunk by then that her description of me had no effect.  I suppose I shared her opinion of my sexuality, and also didn't think of myself as a real man.  It was for certain that I couldn't measure up to my nephew when it came to sexual equipment or lovemaking.  I guess it was a case of her opinion being more accurate than not.

The box was quickly unwrapped, and then opened.  What I saw exposed there was both exciting and mystifying.

The first thing that caught my eye was a foil-wrapped condom, and that was all the evidence I needed to believe that I truly would be allowed to fuck my wife that night.  My hands shook as I removed the thing from the box, and I stood there in silence for several seconds, wondering if I was expected to put it on my raging hardon, or if I should wait for instructions from her.

She solved the dilemma for me by saying, "Put it on the nightstand, honey.  You won't need it for a few minutes.  Look at what else we got you for your birthday."

There were two other items in the box, and I took out the larger and held it up to inspect  more closely, having no idea what the thing was.  It appeared to be an oversized pair of pliers, but each jaw had two metal prongs attached to its tip.  I couldn't fathom what use I would have for such a thing, since I had never been the handyman type.  Finally I moved my eyes away from it, and looked at Carol with my unspoken question.

She said, "I'm sure you don't know what it's for, do you?"  I shook my head, and she continued, "That's something Mark uses quite a bit at his clinic.  The real name is 'elastrator,' although he says most people just call it a bander.  It's used to castrate the animals people bring in."

The shock that passed through my body then was greater than any I'd ever felt, and I feared  I'd pass out and fall to the floor.  I'm sure the expression on my face was laughable, but Carol didn't respond to it, continuing in a very serious tone, "I've told you several times that I wish there were some way to make it so you wouldn't feel so much frustration that you can't fuck me anymore.  Well, this is it.  Mark says if you're castrated, as soon as all the hormones leave your body, you'll be much more accepting of your situation."

She then took my free hand in hers, kissing it before saying, "Sweetie, it's what I want for you.  It's what you need.  Please say you'll let me do that to you.  Please, honey.  We both want it to happen, I know.  I've thought of doing that to you ever since Mark told me about it, and just the idea is enough to make me hot enough to cum when I squeeze my legs together.  Please let me do it to you.  Please.  If you do, I'll let you fuck me one last time."

She continued, in the silence I was unable to break, "There's something else I need to tell you now, and it's another, maybe even more important reason for you to be castrated.  Mark and I want to have a baby, and he says that you can't continue to live with us if you're still able to get me pregnant.  I know you'd never fuck me without his permission, but he says he won't take that chance, and that either you or your balls have to leave.  Please, honey, let me castrate you so you can stay.  Please."

I was too dumbfounded to speak, and stood there in silence as she reached out and took my nearly-deflated penis in her hands.  As she rubbed and caressed it, my mind seemed to clear more with every fraction of an inch it regained.  By the time it was fully erect once more, I had already arrived at my decision, and when she looked up to me and whispered, "Will you let me castrate you?," I responded by nodding my head, then saying in a whisper of my own, "Yes."

She said softly, "Thank you, sweetheart.  I knew you'd say yes.  It just makes me love you all the more.  Thank you."

With no further hesitation, she began to squeeze and pull my sac, trying to loosen it.  Not a word was said by anybody in the room as she worked the thing farther and farther from my body, until she was at last satisfied it was stretched as far as possible.  She then took the elastrator from me, saying, "There's a band in the box.  Put it on the posts for me."

I picked up the box and took out the one thing that remained in it.  It looked for all the world like a very heavy rubber band, light green in color.  With leaden hands, I placed the thing over the four metal posts on the tool she was holding out to me.  She squeezed the handles, which stretched the band until there was an opening in it of almost three inches.  Nothing was said as she lowered the tool to my crotch, then guided my balls through the rubber ring.

She said, without looking away from that oh-so-fascinating sight, "Mark, is that the right position?  Is that where the band should go?"

He replied, "It looks okay.  I really shouldn't do anything to help you do this, you know.  I could lose my license just by being here.  All he'd have to do is say I helped you castrate him, and then I'd be out of a job."

Carol said very seriously, "There's no need to worry on that score."  She then looked up to my face, saying, "Honey, if anyone asks who castrated you, what will you say?"  She paused, continuing to look directly at me, waiting for my answer.

I knew what she wanted to hear, and said softly, "I'll say that I did it to myself.  I'll say I stole the thing from Mark, and castrated myself."

She gave me her most loving smile, then once again lowered her gaze to my crotch.  I leaned forward a slight amount, watching the fascinating sight of my stretched sac and balls hanging through the band of rubber.  Carol didn't hesitate any longer, and began to slowly release the tension on the handles.  As the jaws closed, the band shrank in size, growing ever closer to my scrotum, and the vital cords imprisoned within.

Very slowly the band shrank, until finally the metal posts contacted my flesh, and the ring loosely enclosed my sac and cords.  Taking a large breath to steady herself, Carol used her other hand to carefully push the band up and off the posts, and as it cleared those constraints, it shrank to its former size. 

The squeezing I felt was painful, and produced a strong feeling of discomfort.  As she removed the pliers, I had an unobstructed view of my imprisoned balls, and saw they had ceased their constant writhing, and were at last at peace.  My brain wouldn't allow me to have a similar peace, but seemed to have suddenly reverted to the state of arousal it'd been in before my wife said she wanted to castrate me.  Somehow, the pain I was feeling in my crotch was translated to arousal, as strange as it may seem.  As I've said before, I'm a fucked-up guy.  I don't deny it.

Once again, my only purpose and focus was to allow my cock to spurt forth its semen, and I prayed that she would fulfill her promise to let me fuck her, even if it was for the last time ever in my life.

She reached out to the condom and unwrapped it, then began to roll it down my shaft.  She said, "Mark says it'll take several days for you to be sterile, so you'll have to wear this.  Just think, if you'd have worn one of these when we were dating, you wouldn't be in this fix now."  She laughed, but I was unable to join her.  Deep within my heart of hearts, I knew this "fix," as she called it, was exactly where I wanted to be.  What she had done by cuckolding me, and everything since, had been nothing less than the answer to my most fervent prayers.  Even though it had cost me my balls, I knew it was worth it.

Carol then told me to get on the floor on my back, saying that Mark wouldn't allow me to fuck his wife in their bed.  I was beyond caring about anything other than cumming by that time, and didn't react in the least way.  Instead, I dropped to the floor and got on my back just as quickly as I could.

She got off the bed, straddled my crotch, and lowered herself while guiding my little cock inside her pussy.  As soon as she had settled all the way to my abdomen, she said, "My God!  I can't feel you at all.  You can't possibly be that tiny, can you?  Are you sure it's in?"

She raised up a small amount, looked back between our bodies, then said in wonderment, "It's really in me.  I can't believe it.  I used to think your penis was just fine.  Now I can't feel it at all.  My God, how could I have put up with that all those years?  Now I love you more than ever for sending me to a real man."

All the time she had been saying those things to me, she had been moving her body up and down on my shaft.  I had to agree that the stimulation I was receiving from fucking her was much less than I remembered, although I could certainly feel it, even through the sheath she'd put on me.  I'm sure that, given the state of arousal I was in, even the slightest breath of air against my cock would have put me over the edge.  The feeling of her pussy enclosing me, even loosely, was the most wonderful thing in the world right at that moment, and with a soft groan I raised my hips and began to cum.

As soon as I had finished pumping my semen into the rubber she'd put on me, Carol raised up and squatted beside me.  She grabbed the tip of the sheath and quickly slid it up my still-erect shaft.  As she brought it to my mouth, she said quietly, "Stick out your tongue.  Don't swallow until I tell you to.  I want to look at your last cum that still has babymakers in it."

The robot that was then living in my body opened its mouth and extended its tongue.  My wife began to squeeze out the contents of the condom, and I felt the slimy stuff landing on its target.  When she was satisfied the thing was entirely empty, she bent close to my face and stared for several seconds at the deposit she'd made there.  At last she said, "Yuck!  It looks just like snot, doesn't it?  Go ahead and eat it now."  The robot then closed my mouth and did just that.

Carol then stood and helped me to my feet.  She took my hand and led me to the door, while looking back over her shoulder and saying, "Lover, I'm going to take him to his room now.  I'll be right back for a long, slow fuck.  God, I'm so damned horny I may wear out your big cock before I'm through with it!  I won't be long."

As the two of them laughed together, she led me to my bedroom, turning on the light as we entered.  Through glazed eyes I saw that two lengths of rope had been tied to the two upper corners of the bed, and the free ends were laying coiled loosely on the bedspread.

There was a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the nightstand that had not been there the last time I was in the room, but that and the ropes were the only things new.  She opened the bottle and shook out one of the pills, then handed it and the glass of water to me.  She said, "Swallow this, sweetie.  It'll help with the pain as your balls die.  It'll make you pretty sleepy, too, and maybe you'll even have some strange dreams.  Mark said it'll make you 'suggestible,' as he called it, so I'll have to be careful what I tell you to do, I guess."  She laughed softly at that, then took the glass from me and replaced it on the nightstand.

Carol released my hand long enough to turn back the covers and top sheet, then told me to lie down.  She then pulled my arms toward the corners of the bed, tying the ropes to my wrists to hold them there.  She explained, even though I hadn't asked, "We need to keep your hands away from your crotch for the rest of the night.  Mark says it'll take that long for your balls to die, and if you remove the band before then, all my work will be wasted."

She continued, "Actually, you'll need to leave the band there for a month or more.  That'll give your balls a chance to shrivel up and fall off, and that'll be a much better way to do it than having to cut them off with a knife.  He says if you take the band off after only a few hours, you might get blood poisoning.  That's why we have to have the ropes, honey.  Okay?"

I could do no more than dazedly nod my head, and when she saw my agreement, she continued, "I'm going to go back to bed now.  I'm so damned horny I can't think straight, and I need a couple of hours of fucking.  Do you want me to bring it to you when we're through?"

I didn't need to use any of the tiny remaining brainpower I still had to understand what she meant, and answered by nodding and whispering, "Please."  She smiled sweetly at me, leaned down and kissed my cheek, covered me with the top sheet, then left the room.  She turned off the light on her way out, and as I lay there in the darkness, feeling my balls becoming increasingly numb, my mind was as close to a blank as it ever had been.
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My next memory is of knowing someone was in the darkened room with me, and then feeling the sheet being turned down.  No sound was made as she straddled my head, then lowered her dripping-wet crotch to my mouth.  I was equally quiet as I performed the service that had become the center of my life, licking and sucking with every bit of my energy, the only sound in the room coming from my throat as it swallowed load after load brought to it by my questing tongue.

To my surprise, my attentions to my wife's crotch seemed to be arousing her, as they had earlier that night.  That was unusual, since for the past few months, she seemed to derive very little stimulation from my oral services.  This time, however, she began to sigh and moan very softly before I was even halfway through my cleaning efforts.  By the time I could find no more to eat, she was pressing her crotch tightly against my mouth, and I was sure she was on the verge of cumming, although she didn't do it.

I heard her say softly, "I want to see them.  I'm going to turn on the light."

The light burst forth from the bedside lamp, illuminating her beautiful body.  The extreme distension of her nipples, and the way her chest heaved, confirmed that she was indeed aroused.  Even more confirmation was provided when she quickly re-mounted my face, but this time facing my crotch.  I could feel a slight tugging on my sac, but that was the only clue I had as to what she was doing.  Again speaking barely above a whisper, she said, "I think they're dead.  Can you feel that?"

I said the only thing I could feel was a slight tugging, and then she raised up enough to allow me to look between her legs.  She said, "Look what I'm doing to them, honey."

As my eyes focused on her hands and my sac, I saw that the thing was more grey than pink in color, and parts of it were almost black.  She had separated my balls and was squeezing them between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.  I could see she was using so much force that her fingers were actually touching her thumbs, and knew then that she was correct.  Surely if my nuts had been alive, what she was doing to them would have caused me to pass out from the pain.  Now, all I felt was a slight tugging.  I was sure the worthless things were dead, and rather than that knowledge causing me any sort of grief, I simply dropped my head to the pillow, hoping she'd lower herself to me once again.

She soon did that, and quickly centered her pussy over my mouth.  I was surprised when she reached both hands around her body and spread her cheeks, then wiggled her butt until my nose was firmly in place against her puckered opening.  That sensation brought another sigh from her, and then she whispered, "Put it in me there.  Push your nose inside me."

I tried with all my might to push my nose into her as deeply as possible, and actually got half the thing where we both wanted it.  In my mind, I was trying to push my entire body into her, where it would be absorbed and become part of her forever.  Again and again, I pushed my head against her, but could gain no more entry than before.

She was obviously frustrated by my failure, and said sharply, "Use your tongue, damn you!  Do it!  Put it in me!"  She moved quickly forward until her opening was centered on my mouth, and her pussy was riding my chin.  With no hesitation I stiffened my tongue as much as possible and began to work it into her hole.  Her sighs told me of her appreciation, and they seemed to spur me to greater efforts.  Soon it felt as if my whole tongue had penetrated her, and I could feel her pressing strongly against my face as she sought even more.

Her movements, her sighs, and her moans told me she was approaching orgasm, and I intensified my efforts to help her achieve that goal.  Suddenly I felt her push even more strongly against my tongue, and heard her impassioned cry, "Suck it!  Now!  Suck it out of me, you little wimp!"

As if under the direction of some exterior power, my tongue withdrew and my lips locked around her opening.  As she pushed her spinchter against me, I sucked with all my might.  I have no clear memory of the next few moments beyond that point, other than knowing she was climaxing from the stimulation my chin was providing to her clitoris, and the so-very-exciting thing she was doing to me.  My mouth realized there was something in it, and it reacted by swallowing.  I have no idea if that happened once, or many times.  The robot that was inhabiting my body was in charge, and it seemed to have completely shut down my brain.

I had the exquisite feeling of her hand on my penis then, and knew she was gripping it as tightly as she could, while pumping it rapidly.  There was only one possible response to that, and so my body made it.  I felt my hips lift off the bed with the force of my climax, and then the indescribable ecstasy of cumming swept over me.  I'll never forget her words to me as my cock spurted.  She whispered, "This needs to come off, too.  You want to be rid of it, and someday you'll beg me to take it off you."

At some point in the future, she was sitting on the bed beside me.  Her hand was scooping up the small amount of watery cum from where it had been spurted onto my chest and stomach, and slowly bringing it to my mouth.  I was mechanically licking it from her fingers and swallowing it.  It seemed my only reason for existing was to dispose of whatever she chose to feed me, and that was what I did.

I remember her speaking to me, saying, "I'm going to call your school in the morning and tell them you're sick.  I think you need some more of my special medicine.  Giving it to you was even more exciting that I'd thought it would be.  I can't tell you how much I love you for doing it.  It was better than I'd ever imagined.  All the other women in the chat room said it would be, and they were right."

She then covered me again with the sheet, kissed me good night, turned off the light, and left the room.  I think I closed my eyes, but am not sure.  At any rate, the next thing I remember is the alarm ringing, and being unable to turn it off because something kept me from moving my arms.  I was devastated that I wasn't allowed to serve breakfast in bed to the two most important people in my life, and hoped that Carol would soon release me.
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So, there it is: the story of my life.  You can take it or leave it; I don't care one way or the other.  You can see it as a cautionary tale, and realize that if you think it would be very exciting to watch your wife fucking another man, the same thing could happen to you.  If you choose, you can use it simply as another jack-off story, and that's fine with me.  It happened, and I have no regrets whatsoever.  I'm now a eunuch, and I serve my wife and her sexual husband in whatever ways they require of me.  If some of the ways I serve my wife seem disgusting to you, then that too is your choice.  I simply don't care; I love it.

The End