Girl of my Dreams

by

Kortpeel

I'd never told anyone about my castration fetish. It had been my embarrassing secret from about the mid teens onward. I couldn't really understand it. Why the hell having your balls cut off should be a sexual turn on mystified me. I think it was something about the unfairness of it, being deprived on one's potency, but I was never able to get a handle on it.

Needless to say I never did anything about it either. I just kept it at the back of my mind and created various castration scenarios for masturbation purposes. I forgot about it for a few years from my early twenties in the face of the abundant delights that I discovered when I took a job with a firm located at a small seaside town.

One of the nice things about living at a holiday resort is that you can be a tourist attraction for girls in your own right. Visitors come for a week or two and want to have a good time. For single girls, and a few of the married ones too, I did my best to provide it.

I'd had a particularly nice thing going with a visitor called Vanessa. She was coming to the end of her stay and was wondering how to prolong our relationship. I was looking forward to next week's attraction but I'd found that it did no harm to act committed towards girls who were about to leave. Once they got home and back into their normal world I would be just a pleasant memory for them. That's how it would be for Vanessa.

That's how it would have been if on the last night of her stay, she hadn't said, with a sigh, "What a shame this holiday has to end. Next week I'll be back home doing castrations."

There was a minor explosion inside my head. Old fantasies came flooding back. "Eh?"

"Back to work. I told you I was a vet."

"I thought you were a lecturer. You were talking about your students."

"Oh yes. I lecture part time at the technical college. They run a veterinarian's assistant course."

"I see."

"But my real job is being a vet. Doing castrations on cats and dogs is my bread and butter."

I loved the way she was so casual about it.

"I also get to do a few farm animals now and again."

"Ever done a man?"

She looked a shade uncomfortable, then gave me a funny kind of smile. "You don't want to know."

Right then I wanted to know more than anything else in the world. It took all my self-control not to say so.

If Vanessa wanted to extend our relationship beyond her holiday she had succeeded. I realised that I had stumbled across the girl of my dreams. But I didn't want her to know why. Not at this stage. I changed the subject to talking about the arrangements for her trip home. Vanessa, still thinking about how to make something more permanent out of her holiday romance, was happy for the subject to be changed.

"So are you going to write?" she asked me later.

"Yes. Can I visit too?"

"Would you? It is a heck of a long way."

It wasn't really; about an hour or so drive.

I took her hand, looked her right in the eyes. "I really would like to see you again, Vanessa." There was an implication to this beyond the actual words.

It was exactly the kind of implication that Vanessa wanted to hear. "I'd like that too."

So we became an item. I got in some weekend mileage but from my place to hers was a pleasant drive with plenty of alternative routes. At Christmas I asked her dad for her hand in marriage. The look on his face was as much relief as it was pleasure.

New Year's was an engagement party for us. There was a whole load of her friends there, and Vanessa looked completely happy about everything. She enjoyed flashing her ring to anyone who would look.

At one point in the evening I happen to overhear Meryl, one of Vanessa's friends, whisper to her "Have you told him about Jack and the others yet?"

"Not yet."

"Are you going to?"

"Well, I suppose I should but I didn't want to frighten him."

"No. Of course not."

That was as intriguing as all hell but I didn't get to hear any more.

It was the following weekend, Vanessa had moved from digs to a one bed flat so we could get some time alone together in comfort. I'd been helping her to get it straight.

"Dave, now we're engaged there's something about me that I ought to tell you." She sounded nervous.about telling me.

"You aren't a virgin?" I chaffed. "I know that already."

She smiled. "There were others too but that's not it."

"Then you've got ten kids stashed away somewhere?"

"Not that either."

"You're a drug addict? Hiv positive? What?"

"Be quiet for a minute and I'll tell you. Remember you asked me if I've ever castrated a man?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I have. Several."

There was another minor explosion inside my head. "Really?"

She nodded. "Afraid so." She seemed to think it was something that I would be upset about.

"How very interesting. I'd love to hear about it."

"You aren't shocked?"

"No. Well, I presume there was a good reason for it?"

"Yeah. Well, kind of. They wanted to be castrated."

I poured us each a drink and sat down beside her. "Right Vanessa, you have my undivided attention. Now tell all."

"Meryl, you met her at our engagement, was at college with me. She had a younger brother who wanted to be a girl. He was desperately anxious to have his testicles off before he got too masculinised.

"She wanted me to do it for him. Well, after a lot of discussion we agreed to do it together. So we did. I did most of it. I'd done a few animals by that stage and a man isn't all that different."

"And it was okay?" I asked her. "No after effects or anything?"

"No. It isn't at all difficult. It went by the book." She paused. "It went so well in fact that we did others too."

"Transgendered guys?"

"No. They just wanted to be castrated."

"How interesting."

"You aren't upset about it then?"

"Well, no. Not if that's what they wanted. Both balls? Right off?"

"Yes. We did it surgically through incisions in the sides of the scrotum."

"Why would they want that? They actually wanted to become eunuchs?"

"They definitely did want it. They had different reasons but I think basically there was something about it that turned them on. Some of them made sense though. There was one chap whose wife came with him. He was in his late 30s. They had three children and didn't want any more. He and his wife had talked a lot about it and he had this idea of moving on in life.

"Moving on? By being castrated?"

"It was rather sweet actually. He pointed out that when they were first married he was infatuated by romantic love. That doesn't last and it should be replaced by a different, deeper kind of love based on mutual affection, mutual need and respect. That's the true love that should last until 'death do you part'."

I'd known of those kinds of marriages: elderly couples still in love. I'd often thought that for anyone, that was as good as a lifetime could get.

"The guy said that he couldn't advance to that phase because he still thought in terms of adolescent lust. His libido was holding him back. He thought that without lust he would develop that more mature kind of love and be a better husband and father for it. Quite beautiful, don't you think?"

I didn't know about beautiful but there certainly was something about it. "Actually it is," I said. "He gave up his testicles for his marriage."

"Would you ever do that for me?" Vanessa asked.

I got an impression that she was only partly teasing me. There was that explosion in my head again, and a feeling of excitement in the groin area. "Er--. Ask me again when we've got three children."

* * *

I looked at our wedding pictures the other day. Meryl and her sister were the bridesmaids. Two of those photos always get to me. In one of them I'm standing between Meryl and her sister. The sister is beautiful but the knowledge that under that long silky purple bridesmaid's dress she still had her penis but no balls always does something for me. In the other I'm standing between Vanessa and Meryl, the two castratrixes. And I'm holding hands with both of them. Hands that might one day cut off my balls.

Right now I'm at home looking after our two kids while Vanessa is in the nursing home having our third. What shall I say when she asks me again? I know she will.

End