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II. Cut & Sew
A few months passed after Mark had made his rather bizarre request. I'd nicely, but firmly, turned him down flat. He took no offence. He simply kept slipping in the suggestion whenever he could. After awhile, he simply stopped asking. I stayed gaffed, behaving myself. I applied myself more fully to keeping him happy. For months, even Mark would mention what a good boy I'd become. It appeared that Mark had forgotten about the issue. I caught myself replaying details of Aaron's tearful story at the oddest times. More than once, A quick thought of how it would be like kicked me into some terrific orgasms. Sometimes I'd wonder if it would really be so bad. No- no way ! We continued to live as always. Mark using and enjoying me as he wished. He even introduced me to the wonderful world of medical play. Kinky as I am, the number of things that you can use an exam table for amazed me. Believe me, guys: you haven' lived until the Old Man has treated you to a Full Male Pelvic Exam ! ...so nice..... One Saturday morning I awakened to the sting of a needle in my butt. Mark picked me up & hustled me into his exam room. Very groggy. No thoughts of anything. I simply enjoyed the warmth & safety of being carried in his burly arms. I thought nothing of it. Mark gets horney in the morning. We went into his exam room. He hoisted me, positioning me on his exam table. I was still pretty out of it from lack of sleep. No desire to resist him. Without a word, he slid a 6" posture collar around my neck. It held my head rigid in a forward position. The chin plate shoved my face up and out, vulnerable to almost anything. He secured the collar firmly to the head of the table. By now, I started to float in a really great tranquiliser haze. Mark rolled me over, as far as my locked down neck would allow. He started to play with me...mmm...so fine....he started massaging my ass, stroking my balls as he slid a couple of fingers into my bung hole. His skilled hands quickly found my prostate. He tickled it at first. His playing fell into a rhythm. My body moved and flowed in perfect time to his practiced hands. Still in a happily drugged grog, it felt as though Mark's other hand appeared out of nowhere to stroke my cock. It felt odd- his usually rough hands, clad in a heavily lubricated glove. Still it was just unusual enough to be kind of fun. Trusting soul that I am, I just ebbed & flowed in a blue eon of body tides. I barely noticed that someone was strapping me tightly into this position while Mark kept me jacked and pleasured. He pumped my ass, stroking me more quickly and firmly than before. I blasted into orgasm, my body gently bucking as it emptied completely. Sleep started to overtake me. I felt Mark's stubbled face as he tenderly kissed me. "Felt nice, didn't it ? Kind of a nice way to wake up." "yaahmm." was all that I could mumble. Mark was still gently milking my dick as he rested his face against mine. He stroked my dick a bit more firmly. In the same kind, mellow tone of voice, he then told me: "Hold onto this memory, Softie. It'll be the last time that you feel this for quite awhile." Before I could react, I felt a sharp pin prick in my middle back. Mark just chuckled. He gently massaged me. As he continued, the sensation of touch started to fade away. I could still sense him, but only thru a feeling of pressure. I fought to wake up, trying to protest. No go. Still too groggy to talk. My body went limp as a rag doll. My head was tightly secured to the table. Everything within me tried to buck free. No go. Another sense of being tapped appeared on my lower back. It followed with a light "crunch" sound. A strange sensation of cold followed, spreading its way down my legs. Mark appeared over my head again. "That's done." he pulled up a stool, seating himself directly in my line of sight. He gently stroked my face; leaned over to give me a kiss. His expression stayed sunny. His voice carried the firm tone of an admonishing father. He sat back on the stool and relaxed. "Now, you've been around long enough to know what just happened. I just gave you a spinal anaesthetic, and something to keep ya calm." All I could do was lay there. I knew better than to move after a Spinal. Tears began to flow. He really was going to alter me afterall. "Mark. Please...no..." was would mumble from my groggy lips. The icy beams of his eyes locked on mine. He kept his gently admonitory tone. He leaned over, gently placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Now, now..no need to be blubbering over this." "But wwwhy ?" "You know. This is what I want. When I ask you about this, I'd rather that you'd hopped on the table willingly. 'guess what has to be, has to be.." My face locked in terror. "Relax, Softie. It's not as though I'm taking your dick or turning you into a girl. I'm just tucking everything away so you're not so distracted. That's all." The noise of someone else working the room started up. Mark just kept talking to me, reassuring me. His west Texas drawl working its hypnotic charm. Finally someone rolled me over. I was strapped firmly to the table. Thru a blur of tears I saw the lithotomy stirrups being bolted into place. Mark and Robert (I should've known) each took a leg, slipping me into place. Mark patted my shoulder again. "Time to scrub, kiddo. Don't worry. You won't feel a thing. Just keep your mind on how much you're pleasing me right now." He vanished into another room. Disassociated impressions. I watched Rob strap my arm to a side board. He hook up the IVs. I didn't feel much of anything. Rob took ahold of my dick, threading a catheter carefully inside. He hooked it to a bag and went on w/ the prep. Vague images of Robert, vanishing between my legs w/ a razor and shave cream. Cloudy memories of being painted- the nauseating smell of Betadine paint. My lower body vanished behind a blue drape. A mayo stand appeared beside my head. Aaron streamed into view. He began daubbing my face with some kind of lotion. It dried quickly, leaving my face feeling very tight. Mark reappeared. Robert gowned, gloved, and masked him. From my helpless position, I noticed that two or three other forms joined my husband below the sterile field. "Well, gentlemen: The Missus, here, has finally decide to give in and set a good example for the rest of our partners." "It's really an easy piece of surgery. Just some simple tucking and rearranging." The other figures nodded and glanced at eachother. I must've blushed. This was humiliating. The bastard was going to un-man me in front of our friends. New tears blurred my sight. Mark's drawl cut thru my agony. "It's okay, Honey. Nothin' to be embarassed about. We're all friends here." He turned to the other men. "Since we can't seem to get Softie's face smooth enough w/ simple shaving, Aaron has offered to depillate. We'll repeat that at intervals. In a year, we'll send Softie in for electrolysis to clean up what ever's left." "Looks like you're getting a real Day of Beauty here, eh Softie ?" one of the guests piped up. Everyone laughed. When the chuckling died down, they all began. Aaron took what appeared to be an elecric razor from the stand. With short, deft strokes, he buzzed and swept slowly over my face. The hair yanked away, mercilessly caught in the drum of that infernal machine. He ripped and yanked. My face was on fire as he ruthlessly took my beard away from me. In awhile, every stitch of hair was gone from my face. No beard. My upper lip smooth as a little boy's. Aaron soothed it with some more lotion, but my face was on fire. It somewhat distracted me from what was happening to my groin area. There was no pain. There was only a strong tugging sensation, some pressure occasionally. Thank god I was so doped. Thank god that Aaron was so energetically hurting my face. Mark was giving a blow by blow as he went about his work. "A few quick strokes to the scrotal sac. There: this gives you your material to work with. Making a midline incision, Mark had run the scalpel down the length of my scrotum. Cautery stopped the bleeders. Some vessels were simply sutured. They'd be used to revascularise the finished Mound. Mark had shredded my ball sack into ribbons ! The gallery didn't seem phased at all. They watched w/ rapt attention. My hacked scrotum was packed and tucked out of the way. A strong tug followed. Mark continued to work, Rob handing clean instruments. Bloody tool dropped casually onto the mayo stand. "Now, the testicles are freed from their sheathing. Some dilation of the inguinal canal is needed here." I felt a push. "Hmmm....looks like we headed off the start of a hernia problem here." He called in my direction: "See, Honey. I told ya that I'd always look after ya." I had visions of it all. My bloody ball sac: hanging in shreds, in the open air. My nuts: exposed for this group of men to see. Mark had so masterfully anaesthetised me that he could've castrated me right then and I wouldn't have known it. No bottom had ever felt so helpless and exposed as I felt right then. The tears could no longer come. I felt very numb inside. He was refashioning me to his pleasure. "Gentlemen, now comes the tricky part." A strong tug pulled against my body, followed by some intense pressure. It felt like a weight had been dropped on my balls. No pain, just a strong sense of pushing. I could only lay there, my mind sending up a bloody picture of the festivities below. Mark, picking up one of my bloody balls. Seeing his gloved hand shove it through the small hole, back into my body. His hand shoving teh cords in after it. I could almost feel him fingering the hole as he rearranged everything. "There we go ! Balls all neat and tidy and out of the way." Applause rang out from the guests. "Good show !"...had to be that obnoxious Dr Swinton... "Wow. I'm really gonna miss those low hangers at the next pool party." ...from some smartass... ..to which Mark's peeved drawl replied: "And you've done a good turn in keeping your hands off of those low hangers, Jack. hehehehe... love ya like a bro, but what's mine is mine." The guests chuckled at that. "Now that his conjones are no longer swinging free, let's go to work on his penis." Rob handed off a few strange looking retractors at this point. "we clamp the penis..like..so ! There. That way, when I begin to free it up from its ligaments, it won't retract into the perineal cavity until I'm ready." "Hey, Softie: Rob's holding your dick as we speak." Assisting with later Moundings, I learned that the shaft and the underside of my penis was now firmly clamped in a tight metal tube. The head mushroomed out, wide and full. The underside of the clamp was attatched to a hemostat that held it all closed. Rob was holding my mutilated dick by the clamp. The sound of the cautery zaps filled the air. The smell of burnt flesh made me freeze. My husband was, at that very moment, cutting around my penis. He was cutting open, and dilating, the central passage in the mid scrotal area. My imagination was my worst enemy right then. Without ever seeing it all, I knew what was happening. I could see my penis, clamped and bloody, being stretched out of the way. Some of the internal length of my dick was also stretching out of the hole right then. Rob would pull it to the left, then the right, as Mark sliced open the skin around it. Some sense of pressure against my penis. Mark was slitting the skin from the base, part of the way up. "We don't completely sever the penis. You notice that I've left a few thin flaps connected to the surrounding pubic area. This way, he retains sensations of pleasure." Mark's chuckle baritoned off of the surgery walls. "And when he's been an especially good little boy, I'll show him just how much fun he can have. Due to mechanics, he'll be completely dependent upon the Old Man for his fun, however." Rob pulled a retractor off the Mayo. Something bumped my groin. Rob had hooked one end of the blunt retractor against the wound, pulling the hole farther open. "As you can see, the penis really does extend quite far into the body. My sweetheart here has as much inside as he ever showed outside." His mocking drawl called out to me: "Damn, Honey ! Never woulda known that you were so well endowed." Again the mocking laughter. Something inside of me seemed to die. I just wanted to ball up, cry until I couldn't cry anymore. Run away and cry somewhere safe. "No matter. We're gonna be 'hiding his light under a bushel', like the Good Book says." He returned to work. Rob checked the clock. He motioned to Aaron. Aaron put down the epillator. He picked up a reloaded syringe and jabbed it into a portal on my IV stand. Mark snipped and sutured farther into my body, stopping when he felt satisfied. "Just...about...ready...there ! Got it. A space has been created to hold the tucked penis." With that, my penis was gently pushed back into my body cavity. The sinus packed in upon itself, but my urethral tube held straight and true. "As you can see, my Beloved here won't be pulling his pud anytime soon." Mark began drawing the sides of the wound together. He drew some folds of my slashed ball sac around the head of my penis, creating a kind of a hood. He tacked the hood around the base of the head, using finer sutures to anchor the folds more firmly into place. With that, he gripped the head of my dick with another retractor. He wiggled the head a bit to make sure that it wasn't held too tightly. "He'll retain sensation. He'll even retain some expansion of tissue when aroused. I don't like to pack it all too tightly because his internal hard-on will need somewhere to go." The group nodded, acting as though this hadn't occured to him. Mark then tilted the clamped head slightly downward within the wound area. It was all still loose enough to allow for that. "This is, for all intents & purposes, a temporary procedure. Urethral rerouting is neither required nor desired at this point. What I'm doing is positioning the head so that his urine stream will flow at an easier angle. It's just like pushing your dick down to aim at the urinal." I felt some pushing, my mind flashing vivid pictures of the bloody stump being moved around and positioned. "He will, of course, be sitting down to pee from now on." a chuckle arose from the entire room. "By tilting his little pee-pee this way, he won't have to bend so far forward to keep from messing the floor." A whole room of friends, discussing my urine habits. Mark then anchored the head of my dick into a suitable position. He sutured, again, to allow for a certain amount of movement. Rob motioned to Aaron, who placed another wrapped bundle on the back table. "Ah yes. The Plastic pack. Now comes that touch of creativity. My favourite part." Mark peeked over the top of the screen, checking on me as he had thruout the procedure. He spoke in a calm, reassuring voice. "Almost done, Softie. Your BP & respiration are holding fine. How're ya bearing up ?" At that point, resignation had brought a sense of calm. No use fighting or crying. I'd been neutered and could do nothing about it. "I'm okay." "Love you, Softie: real proud o' ya. Not many men would make this kind of a sacrifice." The room agreed. Someone whistled a few bars of "What I Did For Love". One day, I WILL discover the bitch queen and pay back ! Mark clamped the sides of my perineal opening together. The head of my dick, and it's surrounding hood, now squeezed slightly. He made sure that the wound held firmly, then had Rob open the Plastic Pack. Taking the remaining ribbons of my ball sac, Mark drew up the tissue against my body. He used tiny hemostats and clamps to move the sac around. He fiddled and repositioned everything again and again for a few minutes. Finally satisfied, he started sewing and fashioning my outter Lips into place. He first tacked the lips together on my abdomen, over the top of my penis head. Slowly, carefully, he pleated and sewed. He worked from top to bottom. Soon he had everything in place. A few extra tightening sutures caused the lips to billow out slightly, at the appropriate places. Some surgical glue was used on this stage. Healing would progress more quickly with less scarring. "How I do this is purely by personal preference. Some men like their guys to be as tight and as flat as a little girl when they're done. Personally, I love a lucious set of pouty lips down here. I'm making Softy a bit more blowsy and more prominent than usual." Some suction. The last clamp on the Mayo. The last instruments taken away. Rob applied the bandages and took away the sterile field. I lay there: open and naked to the world. "Well, gentlemen: here we are. Softie has been securely tucked and mounded. All of those masculine distractions are safely out of reach. No low hangers, no annoying dick to swing at the world. For all intents and purposes, his penis is now a cute little clitoris, nestled in a neat, marriage-appropriate packaging." The guests stepped forward to view his work. They were impressed. "Very nice. So neatly done, you would've thought that there was no surgery involved. " "Yes. Mark- I'm impressed. Can I bring Simon in next week ?" "Jeff really needs to have this done. He's been cranky and independent acting lately." "An hour on the table should calm him right down." was Mark's sage reply. Mark took a pointer from the Mayo stand, using it to point out certain features. He was treating me like a teaching doll, of some kind. "The nicest part is this: no masculine arrogance, but no gender confusion, either. Softie is still very noticeably a boy. His Mound could never be mistaken for a real pussy. Softie remains a male, but a very blunted kind of a guy." Mark flashed a broad, blissful smile at me as he spoke. "And you can reverse this at any time ?" "Completely reversible, within reason. I'd advise, however, that the subject remain Mounded for an absolute minumum of 2 years between procedures. Healing issues, you understand." The guys thanked him for the demonstration. They filed out to where Aaron was serving drinks & snacks. I could hear the low level of conversation as I lay there: bruised, humiliated, and fixed like a family pet.
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