Business Commitment

Three days later I was naked, strapped to a table, and Katrina was smacking my balls with a riding crop. Everything I ever dreamed of indulging, she fulfilled, including bringing some of the other mistresses into the session and when she had chased them out and fucked my ass I came harder than at any other time in my life. On the drive home I realized that I was completely captivated by this female.

Unfortunately at $200 per session, I could no longer afford her and was too embarrassed about this situation to answer her occasional emails. Still I dated females that would make most men envy me, even 18-year-old virgins who for whatever reason selected me to bring them into the world of sex. I would have these girls squeeze and smack my balls as they sucked me dry, but as I squirmed they giggled; none of it was as alluring, as deeply satisfying as the times I had spent with Katrina.

Katrina, smart as she is, figured out that money was the issue. She emailed me asking me to come for a session, that this one would be on her. I was thrilled! After the session I was sitting at her feet, massaging them, both of us quiet (I wasn’t allowed to lick any part of her except her feet). “Chaz, you really have a beautiful body,” she said. I workout a lot so I have heard this before. I thanked her for the compliment, and she explained the movies produced there at the dungeon and sold to BDSM websites. “Would you be interested in being filmed?”

Immediately I imagined my face and my screams plastered all over the Internet as she and her colleagues tormented my private parts for the entire world to see, including my relatives and co-workers. “Um, no thanks.” But as usual she seemed able to read my mind. “Chaz, sweetie I promise, you’ll be wearing enough make-up that not even your own mother would recognize you. Think about it, ok? Obviously if you did this for the dungeon, they wouldn’t charge you for any sessions going forward.”

I gave her my phone number and left, and over the next few days lying there whacking off every night imagining a smorgasbord of mistresses, completing the scenes always with my precious Katrina, I firmly decided that yes, I would definitely do it. Not long after that, the phone rang, as if she had heard my thoughts. We talked excitedly as I agreed to the movie. “But there’s one thing and it’s kind of big,” she said. I started to worry, and what came next changed my life, forever. “Chaz, we’ve made every kind of movie you can make, done it all except for one. The distributor has offered to pay the dungeon over $100,000 for an actual castration film. Evidently there’s a big demand for it. Sorry but that’s all we can offer you in exchange for the free sessions. We need the money, Chaz.”

My heart sank through the floor, I was completely devastated. NO WAY would I do that. She read my thoughts I swear. “Chaz, right now you’re hating the idea, but let me just tell you that it’s not that bad. Afterwards we will give you testosterone patches and you can still get hard and cum especially when I fuck your ass. Oh and one last thing for you to think about before you give me an answer: afterwards in all future sessions I will let you eat me. You can eat me, and I will suck you, no more jerking off in front of me. In time I may even let you fuck me. Think about it, Chaz, ok?”

“Right, right, ok,” I replied as I hung up. The next day I went into the office unable to think of anything else. My co-workers even made comments that I seemed distracted, although I tried so hard to hide it. I could think of nothing else except unlimited access to Katrina in exchange for my scrotum and its contents. I started reasoning with myself, “Do you really need ‘em? You’ve never wanted kids; you’re bored with normal girls anyway. Katrina is GORGEOUS. You could have her anytime you want! Balls, who needs balls.” This is how it went inside my head for six straight days. Katrina left me alone through all of this.

At some point in the gray area between sleep and consciousness, I made the decision to go through with the “cutting” as I came to call it. I emailed Katrina. Two days went by before I received a reply. My stomach was trembling when I read it. “Chaz, that’s WONDERFUL! Let me give you a full week of sessions, every night I want you to come here after work, ok?” I wrote back simply, “OK,” and closed the browser. I had just shaken hands on a deal, and words cannot possibly capture the thoughts and feelings running through my harried mind at that moment. I thought of simply never contacting her again. Yes, that’s it. I’m over my head, I need more time to consider this, and I’m not going to her sessions.

But I went. As Katrina straddled my face for the first time, instantly I became lost to her heady musk and flavors and textures… but more significantly I felt closer to her than I’ve ever felt to a woman. Finally I was bonding with the object of my passion and as she beat my balls she used her mouth to finish me. No more thoughts of backing out from that point forward. Each evening’s session was more intense and incredible than the last. I lay on the bondage table naked and spent with Katrina moving about the room, straightening up. She looked fantastic, so pretty, so in control of her world and now of mine. She said, “Chaz, next Saturday at noon you’ll have your scene. One of the mistresses will film us, two others will help me work you up to your climax, and an outsider, someone you haven’t met will perform the actual, you know…” she said, making the scissors motion with her fingers. “She’s also medically trained so everything will be safe, and she’s also beautiful. She told me that she’d be the one to suck you off at the end, I think you’ll have no problem getting hard for her, sweetie.”

She proceeded to lay out the entire scripted scene. I was a rapist who beat the rap, got kidnapped by friends of the victim who would hold a mock trial with conviction and sentencing to castration. I would be stripped, processed, marched down a long tiled hallway to a room at the end with an OBGYN exam table into which I’ll be strapped and where the mistresses will work me into a frenzy for approximately 20 minutes until I climax. “Chaz, there won’t be anesthesia but I promise, your body will be flooded with endorphins, you’ll feel some pulling and the knife but it won’t hurt. The cutter has done many of these scenes, she knows better than anyone.”

I shuddered. “Oh, I don’t think you should cum anymore before Saturday. Promise me you won’t whack off? I want the one on film to be a huge one!” she said, giving me that irresistible devilish grin.

That week I masturbated constantly but did not cum, per Katrina’s instruction. Pretty much I was hard all the time, even at work. Friday night I came to the dungeon as instructed, removed my clothing and the headmistress took it away and locked it up. “In case you change your mind,” she said, unsmiling. Just then Katrina bopped into the main lobby looking more beautiful and cheerful than ever. “Come on, come with me,” she beckoned with her finger. As usual I followed as if in a trance. She lead me to a sleeping room in the back of the dungeon used by mistresses who travel from the suburbs for weekend work. “Comfy bed, yes?” I nodded. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” I shook my head. “Ok then,” she said as she cuffed one of my ankles to the bed frame. “Chaz, we have a lot of money invested in this deal. We had to pay the cutter in advance, buy special lighting equipment, a new video camera. You really can’t back out on us now, even if you change your mind I can’t let you,” she said, leaning down. She kissed me, for the first time, and it was a kiss to remember. “Are you cool with it, sweetie?”

I nodded. She rubbed my cock and balls until I was hard and maintained a soft grip as she curled up beside me and we both fell asleep. The next thing I knew was waking up to a cold hand on my face. It was the dungeon headmistress grabbing my cheeks. “Wake up, it’s time to make a movie,” she growled. Katrina was gone; I could see dim rays of sunlight from under the door down the hall. I panicked and tried to run, but the cuff held me to the bed.

“Ah ah ahhh,” she growled. “You’re committed.” I had completely changed my mind, but the cuff held me fast. I decided to bide my time and play it cool then bust out of the dungeon onto the city street, naked but in one piece. “I know what you’re thinking, forget it! Two of us are stationed by the front door with stun guns. Now can we just play by the rules here, my man?” she barked. Just then Katrina entered, straightening her outfit. My jaw dropped. She was absolutely stunning in a black leather outfit, smiling at me. Wordlessly she brushed aside her boss and came to me, grabbing my cock and stroking me instantly into a full erection. She kissed my neck, looked deeply into my eyes, and smiled.

“Chaz baby,” she whispered, “I’ll be your mistress forever, let’s just get through this, shall we?” All thoughts of escape melted away. Katrina led me to one of the dungeon rooms used for enemas and medical play. She and another mistress laid me down and gave me a Brazilian waxing. It hurt but not terribly, I bled some. All hair was pulled from my chest, stomach, groin, and ass. After six enemas I ran clear. I was erect the entire time, throbbing actually. They put me in the shower and Katrina stood outside handing me washcloths and some balm to remove the wax. Soon I was clean, my teeth brushed. Katrina and the other mistress sat me down, put a wig and make-up on me, even my tattoos were covered, and then they showed me my reflection in the mirror. I did not look like myself, it was amazing. Katrina snapped some police-issue handcuffs on me behind my back.

The camera operator came in, and filming began. I felt self-conscious getting filmed naked and was not erect. The script went down exactly as Katrina had described, I was silent as the “judge” read my sentence: castration. At that moment I truly felt like condemned prisoner. The grim reality of my situation closed around my spirit like a vice and I started screaming, “No!” It wasn’t acting. Katrina and the other mistress held my arms as I tried to run, still shouting. I broke free but three others joined Katrina and grabbed me. “No!” was all I could manage to shout over and over as they pulled me from kneeling and thrashing on the floor to standing in their firm grip.

The camera operator yelled, “Cut!” Katrina applauded. “That was GREAT!” said the operator. “So convincing! Perfect, really!”

“Chaz, it’ll be okay!” she whispered. I started sobbing. She grabbed my balls and stroked them. “Baby, these belong to me and you know it! You’ve ALWAYS known it haven’t you, hmm?” I stopped crying. My cock grew very hard.

The camera went on and I pulled myself together by looking over at Katrina. She was acting tough for the camera, but I could tell that inside she was excited to proceed with our new relationship, and so it went on. They lead me down the long hallway. When I saw the gyno table I stopped, and Katrina had to pull me forward. I resisted all the way. Katrina grabbed my cock and led me straight to the table. Again I shouted “No!” but then four of them fell upon me like a pack of jackals, uncuffing me and stretching me every which way until they had me strapped down, legs widely apart, my genitals completely exposed. At that moment the cutter entered. She wore a grim, stern expressing however she was very beautiful. The camera left my face and I watched the area of focus: the cutter opened a bag and unveiled a curved hunter’s knife gleaming in the special lights in the room, and a wire-banding tool.

Katrina slipped out of her leather pants. Naked underneath and shaved bald, she proceeded to sit backwards upon my head, facing my feet, humping my face with little regard for my pleasure. I inhaled deeply and opened my mouth but she just kept humping, for the camera I supposed. She dismounted so that I could watch my balls get pulled away by one of the mistresses as the cutter clamped two metal bands around my scrotum, trapping my testicles at the bottom and leaving a thin tube of flesh between the bands. Another mistress lubed up the familiar enormous dildo used by Katrina during special sessions, and rammed it unceremoniously into my ass with very little lubrication. I screamed, and Katrina mounted my face once again this time facing me. The camera alternated between my face – I guess they wanted to capture my pain – and the site of my anal rape. I could only imagine what that looked like; it felt as though I were hemorrhaging down there. But it all blended into one incredible, indescribable feeling. Never before was I this turned on. Another mistress slapped my balls while stroking my cock. Katrina pushed aside this woman and used her hands on my cock. The other woman flicked at my balls as though flicking a speck of pepper from a tablecloth.

From somewhere deep down inside came the initial tickle of one enormous orgasm building. Katrina who knew me better than anyone in the room sensed it, and motioned to the cutter. I couldn’t see this, I felt it. I couldn’t see anything with Katrina riding my face. She dismounted to give the camera a clear view of my face. She held my hand. The camera operator captured everything. The headmistress shot Katrina a nasty look, I guessed that her handholding wasn’t in keeping with the script. Katrina stepped down to my groin and started squeezing my balls. The cutter pushed her hand away and replaced it with a swab of yellow disinfectant that she smeared onto my sack. Then for the first time, I made eye contact with the cutter. Truly a pretty face I noticed, then all of a sudden she snapped on latex gloves, grabbed my erect cock and popped just the head into her mouth. I’ve had blowjobs before, many of them, but this woman really knew how to coax a man with her mouth. With the dildo pressuring my prostate and this warm, silky little mouth, I was about to go over the edge. I looked over at Katrina who closed her eyes and nodded, and gave me the thumbs-up sign.

I came in wave after exquisite wave into the mouth of the cutter. She looked me straight in the eye as she made this wide sweeping motion grabbing the knife. I no longer cared. She lowered the knife’s edge to the thin tube of meat between the two bands and pressed it hard against me. I felt it, the tugging and the edge, but it didn’t feel too bad. Rather than use a sawing motion, she simply held the edge there. As the orgasm intensified the dildo got pushed out of me by my internal contraction and I bucked my hips as hard as I could to force more of myself into her velveteen mouth. In doing so, I severed my own ballsack from my body. I did this to myself by literally humping the knife blade. She held them up for me to see, and for the camera and the other ladies to see. I saw my sack in her hand, and the last thing I remember before passing out is Katrina giving me this sad, empathetic expression.