Over the desk

I was rather surprised when I saw Jennifer come to the door, as I never really thought of her as one needing counseling. I found it equally disconcerting that she had brought someone with her. “Can we come in?” she asked. “Do you have time?” I did, so I let them in. I really wasn’t sure how effective counseling could be with Jennifer, anyway. I had previously worked at a bookstore, which she frequented, and had found it difficult not to admire her while she was in there. She wasn’t flashy, and dressed in jeans and blouses or T-shirts, but she was extremely attractive. She had a well rounded, athletic behind, not large, but certainly not petite. She had shapely hips and thick legs, and a nicely sized chest, though she would not be considered buxom by any means. She had light brown hair with blonde highlights, and brown eyes. She probably stood 5’5”. When she came to the door of the counseling center where I was the junior associate, she was wearing standard fair – faded blue jeans, fit to form, and a T-shirt that hung down over her shapely rear end. Her friend wore a long T-shirt, as well, but she donned spandex athletic shorts to complement. She also sported a butch, blonde haircut, and a very chiseled, but not unattractive, look all over her body.

I invited them to my office, and to have a seat. Jennifer shut the door, and her friend stood with her legs shoulder width apart and her arms folded across her rather large chest. I was a little disconcerted by the door being shut, especially when the strange girl drew the curtains closed. I started getting a little edgy. “Jennifer, I don’t understand what’s going on here. This isn’t exactly normal, you know. Who’s your friend?”

Jennifer looked at me with her big eyes, and said with a look somewhere between matter-of-fact and innocence, “This is Lisa. She’s here to help me castrate you.”

I was not amused. I flushed a bit and then took a couple of steps toward the door, intent upon escorting these two ladies out. “All right, I think you should leave now.” Jennifer stepped quickly around me and moved to the desk. Lisa grabbed my right arm, holding it firmly. I pulled to get away, but discovered that this grip was rather strong. Jennifer cleared the desk, pushing everything to the floor, as Lisa pulled me backward. “Let me go,” I said defiantly. I did not yet realize that anything serious was going on here. Jennifer opened the top drawer of my desk, and removed a large pair of shears, setting them on the chair behind her.

Lisa spun me around and pushed me forward onto my desk. I was on the wide side on my stomach, bent at the waist, looking at my chair. It occurred to me that these two weren’t kidding around. I pushed back in an attempt to stand back up, but Lisa pushed me back onto the desk. I turned myself in an attempt to get some leverage, but in the process of doing so, left myself vulnerable for half a moment. Lisa pushed me at my left hip, and pushed my left shoulder down, so that I was forced off my feet. Jennifer was now helping, and she lifted my legs up with the motion so that I was almost in a fetal position facing my assailants. “Lisa lifts weights, Dan. But please, struggle. I want you to.”

I fought furiously to get a grip against Lisa, and was kicking my feet frantically. “Stop! Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re a pervert, and leaving the state isn’t going to change that. It’s just going to hide it from the people you deal with there. I don’t think that’s fair.” I was continuing to fight, but Lisa was trying to get a hold of my wrists. Jennifer was trying to get a hold of my flailing legs, but so far, was not having any luck. Lisa then climbed up on the desk, holding my left shoulder as she did so. Standing on her knees, she rotated my shoulder down to the desk so that I was face down. I pushed up to my elbows, trying to roll away from her, but Lisa was not just strong; she was very quick. She was already drawing her hands up my arms, pulling me off my elbows, and stopping when she had my wrists in her grip. Closing my wrists together, she pulled my arms out straight in front of me, and then placed them together between her legs. Sitting on her heels, she squeezed her thick, iron thighs together, locking my arms together up to the elbows. My hands were under her groin and hard muscled buttocks, and my face was almost forced into her lap. I continued to kick, but now lacked leverage. Lisa made it even more difficult, as she pushed on my shoulder blades, and attempted to hold me at the small of my back. With my range of motion limited, Jennifer was able to take a different tack. Grabbing me by the waist, she slid down the outsides of my legs until she closed them together. I continued to kick, but Jennifer now had the leverage to hold them together. I tried to swing them to one side or the other, hoping to use gravity to pull me off the desk, but Jennifer worked the legs to the narrow end of the desk, so that I was lengthwise laid out across the desktop. Once she had my legs pointed in the direction she wanted, Jennifer pulled my legs down and pushed them against the side of the desk, so that I was bent at the waist over the edge. Jennifer proved to be fairly strong herself, as she planted her legs against mine and held me there.

In spite of my growing fear, I couldn’t help but be turned on a little by the feel of Jennifer’s body pressed against my legs and butt, not to mention the precarious location of my hands. I was now stretched out, and unable to make any headway with my struggling. Panic started setting in. It had reason. Jennifer worked her hands under my belly to the top of my shorts. Slender fingers deftly untied the string and loosened the waistband. As she pulled the shorts down, she pulled on my hips to ensure that the corner of the desk was in my gut, not in the joint of my hips. My shorts she pulled down to just below my knees and left them there. They now acted as a bond in themselves, pinning my legs together. Jennifer backed off me a little as she pulled on the waistband of the underwear. I was struggling still, but getting desperate, and almost at the point of tears. “Please, Jennifer, whatever I’ve done, I promise I won’t ever do it again. Just please don’t do this.”

Continuing with the process of lowering the underwear, almost as thought she hadn’t heard my plea, Jennifer said thoughtfully, “It’s probably not accurate to call it castration. Actually, you’ll be ‘nullified.’” Satisfied with this thought, she concentrated on the underwear, and the fact that it had to be lifted over my erection. Jennifer lifted the waistband over the end of penis and lowered it down my thighs, shaking her head as she did so. “Even now you have an erection. Now do you understand why I have to do this?” The underwear were now sitting atop my shorts. I couldn’t think through my terror. I clenched my legs together as tightly as I could, desperate to avoid what was rapidly becoming imminent. Jennifer did not seem dissuaded by this, though. Sighing, she said, “This can be difficult, or quick, Dan. It’s your choice.” She drove her right knee between my legs, and I held tightly in spite of the pain. But time and leverage were on her side, and she knew it. She twisted the knee back and forth to make the pain more intense, but ultimately, she won the battle because she could press her weight into the crevice. Eventually, my legs separated enough for her gain the hold with her leg. Once she did that, she worked the other knee in and began spreading. I fought until I know I was sweating and grunting, but it was to no avail. Jennifer steadily opened my legs until my thighs were about 4 to 6 inches apart. She reached behind her and grabbed the shears and placed them beside me on the desk. With her left hand, she reached between my legs. My testicles were hanging down and my shaft was still rather firm. Reaching up around the front, she took the base of my shaft and my ball sac, and fondled them until they were in one solid grip.

I was about to cry out and try to save myself, but at that moment Lisa took my head and shoved it down into her thighs. Any sound out of my mouth would be muffled. Jennifer found her grip and closed her hand tightly. Pulling the package out taut through the back of my legs, she moved back a little, taking her knees out from between my legs. I was already in pain, and was grunting and nearly crying at what was next. “It’s a shame, Dan. It’s not bad, really. Just too bad you can’t keep it under control.” And then, “Well, don’t worry about that anymore. Now hold on tight. This is going to hurt like hell!” With that, she pulled my genitalia to the left enough to get one side of the scissors blades to the front. The other side set behind my stretched out scrotum. She tugged a little as she set the blade, trying to work a good position for the procedure. I could feel my skin pinch in the crux of the adjoining blades, and jumped and winced at the pain. I was struggling again, but could no longer close my legs, because that would accomplish Jennifer’s purpose as well.

An eternity passed in that moment. I distinctly heard a knock at the outside door, and Jennifer cursing under her breath. The door opened. They must have a key. Jennifer and Lisa slipped out the window as the office door opened. My wife was there, and I burst into tears. I took her in my arms and held her and kissed her passionately. I ran my hands up and down her, hiking her skirt up over her bare rear end. Pulling her up onto me, and then . . .

The blades bit into my tender flesh and I screamed into the spandex on Lisa’s sculpted thighs. There would be no rescue. My fate was sealed. Despite the scissors being very sharp, Jennifer couldn’t get a perfect angle, and so the process was more like the breaking apart of a chicken leg than a simple slice. What seemed like an hour was in actuality about 10 seconds. Jennifer’s task was accomplished quickly, though every pull and cut was seared into my memory. I felt the last strands of my manhood break away, and I wept. My pelvis rocked into the desk. I had no strength to support myself anymore.

I vaguely heard a flicking noise, and wondered only distantly what it was. I figured it out pretty quickly when the burning began in my groin. They had a lighter and had heated the scissors in order to cauterize the wound.

“Turn him around,” Jennifer said. As Lisa got off and spun me around on the desk, Jennifer turned a chair around so that its back was to the desk. My head was now at the edge of the desk. Jennifer climbed up on the chair backward and sat on my head and slid herself back to sit on my chest. With the severed genitalia in one hand and the shears in the other, she looked at me and said, “You’re never using this thing again. No John Bobbitt for you.” With that, she began cutting the shaft in slices, as though she were cutting up a sausage, and dropping the pieces on my face. When she got to the testicles, she handed them to Lisa, who took each in turn in one hand and crushed it. Jennifer then got right down in my face. “Don’t bother calling the police. We’ll be calling 911 for you as we leave. You’ll never find us. I’m going into the witness protection program, so everything changes. No fingerprints, no DNA match, nothing. Sorry.” She shrugged. “We’ve got to go now, but we’re going to need a little head start. I wouldn’t want you following us or anything.” She smiled sweetly. Lifting my head a little, she wrapped her thighs to either side. The pressure was unbearable and I couldn’t get any air with her sitting on my chest. I panicked and fought in any way I could think, but there was no grip to get. Things starting going black, and then I remembered no more.