Ted's Bad Deal Pts. 1 & 2

Pt. 1

Desperately in need of money after being laid off from my job I went from bank to bank for a short term loan to see me thru the coming hard times. For some time I had lived well, and I needed the money to keep up a high standard of living. Without a job, though, no bank would even consider it. I had gotten very desperate.

After striking out with the banks I finally resorted to friends. In the tight economy, however, even the best of my friends had to turn away. Two of my best friends, Tom and Jessica, who had dated for years, however, had a suggestion: Tom's uncle Howard, a notorious loan shark. I was concerned about getting involved with Howard, but I needed the cash pretty bad. I relented one day, and Tom took me to his office in the warehouse district. Howard was a huge, balding man with brownish hair and a beard. He didn't look at all as I expected.

Tom had told him everything beforehand. "Need money, huh Ted?" said Howard smiling as we met, "We can do that. Of course, you might not like my terms."

"Are you the kind of guy who breaks legs and fingers," I asked sarcastically.

Howard's face tightened. "No, no, we're far more serious than that. I assure you you'll want to pay back the loan when we call it in."

What's the worst they coud do I thought? "I'm not worried about paying you back, I'll have a job soon."

"Good," he said "Then we won't have to worry about what happens if you're not good for it. How much do you need?" Without hesitation I said $5,000. Howard never blinked. He opened a safe and produced the entire sum. "Due in a month," said. "No problem." I responded.

Tom and I left. "Say, what do you think he'll do if I can't pay up, Tom?" I asked in the car on the way home. "I don't know," said Tom. "I've heard things though. . ."

***

One month later I was still jobless. I had even sold my car. Howard's loan money had been spent ages ago, and I was well through the money I had gotten from my car. I had simply been living too luxurious. The end of the month came and went though, and I heard nothing from Howard. All talk, I thought.

I thought. About two weeks after the end of the month I returned home from a day of job-searching to find Howard and two men waiting for me in my apartment. "My cash?" said Howard. "I'm sorry," I said "I don't have it." I was nervous for the first time. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Ted," he said rising and putting his arm on my shoulder, "I'm going to give you a second chance to pay me back. You probably didn't know this, but I own a BDSM club. That's down where my office is, you've been there. Well, we need a 'volunteer.' Every year we have a 'play for keeps night.' Someone from the club volunteers to be the victim in a very real, very dangerous scenario. This year we were short on volunteers. But not now. Not now that I have you. I've designed a little tableau, and I'd like you be the centerpiece. You're good-looking, you have a nice body, and I think my patrons will really appreciate you."

"What will I have to do?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" said Howard. "Of course, you know I could kill you now. Alternatively, we could renegotiate your loan--but I should say that you'd now owe at least $100,000."

"I can't pay that! I guess I have to do it whatever it is," I said.

"Smart kid," he said. He and his men headed for the door. "It's this Saturday night. Tom and his girl will pick you up at 5. They know all about it. Be ready."

****

As the week passed I searched desperately for a job, hoping it wouldn't be too late to just pay Howard. I wasn't really afraid of what Howard had in store for me, after all, what could he do to be in a club full of people? I was concerned, though, that I'd have to get naked in front of a bunch of strangers at a BDSM club. I was sure that whatever was waiting for me would be embarrassing. Worst of all, Tom was out of town all week and I couldn't ask him if he knew anything about what was in store for me.

But at 5 that Saturday Tom showed up at my door with his girlfriend Jessy. Jessy wasn't a knock-out or head turnder, but she was cute enough. I wasn't sure what to wear so I just put on a nice shirt, khaki pants and leather slip shoes. I was relieved to see Tom and Jessy dressed about the same. "What's going to happen tonite, Tom?" I asked as we headed for his van. "I'll tell you in the car," he said

Once inside (I was directed to the backseat bench), Jessy turned and said "I have to put these on you," dangling handcuffs. "All part of tonite's act." I offered my wrists relunctantly. "Okay Tom, what's up?"

"Well," Tom said, "I should begin this by reminding you that Howard can have you killed at anytime if you don't go through with this, so you'd be wise to take what he's giving you. . .Tonite you will bet Howard your genitals in a little test. You win the bet you keep your penis, your balls and the money. You lose, Howard gets your penis and balls."

I gasped. "What?! I'm not doing anything like that! Are you crazy?"

"No, Ted, but you would be if you didn't go thru with it," said Tom.

"I'll just pay the $100,000," I said. "I can get it somehow."

"Ah, it's a little late for that. I told my uncle I was bringing you in. If you want to you can plead to him," said Tom.

I turned to Jessy, in the passenger seat, to plead my case, when I noticed the gun she had pointed straight at me. My friends had betrayed me. "So I've got no choice?" I said. "No choice. But what we're doing is best for you. We want to make sure you don't run--that would be as dangerous as what's in store for you tonite at the club," said Tom. "Howard will explain everything better when we get to the club."

***

At about 5:30 we'll pulled up outside the warehouse where Howard's office was. Howard was outside to greet us, smiling. Tom helped me out, as my hands still cuffed. "Hello Tom, Jessy. Well, I hope you're all ready for an exciting evening--especially you Ted. Please come this way," said Howard leading us in. We headed down a well lit corridor past about a half dozen doors before Howard stopped. "In here," he said opening a door to a large room with a high ceiling. The room was painted dark and dimly lit. Still, you could clearly see rows of chairs starting against the far wall leading out to just short of the middle of the room. In the middle of the room, about 4 or five feet from the first row of chairs was a metal structure. It had two poles set about two feet apart running from the floor to about 7 feet up, connected by padded metal cross strips running, one near the top about chest high, and one about thigh high and one at the bottom. Leather straps were attached to each of the cross strips at one end while fasteners were at the the other end of each. At the bottom of the contraption was a little metal platform set about 7 inches up from the floor and about 6 inches back from the base of the poles. A third pole rose about 5 1/2 feet up, centered, behind the contraption, about a foot and a half back. The whole thing looked like a very sturdy medieval torture rack. It was set at close to 60 degree angle to the chairs. In the back of my mind ran the thought "You bet your balls. . ." What was going on? I was about to find out what it all meant.

"What is it?" I asked nervously. "A rack," said Howard, "where tonite you will be strapped to face the greatest test of your life. Tonite we're going to bring you in here, and, before a crowd of about thirty people sitting in those chairs, my club patrons, strap you naked to that rack. And then," he paused, "we're going to bring out a large guillotine. It will be placed before the rack. Your cock and balls will be placed through some stocks below the guillotine's sharp blade. You will be totally immobilized. And then, the test will begin. For thirty minutes you will be forced to hold in your mouth a a metal plate attached to a cord. The cord will be strung high up through a hook on the ceiling and back down to the guillotine. At the other end of the cord will be a weight that, if dropped, will trigger the blade, removing your manhood. If you make it, you keep the money and walk away."

"No, I won't do that. There's no way." I said nervously. "Maybe we should just re-negotiate my loan--I'll pay you anything," I said nervously.

"No, no renegotiation. The time has passed for that. By coming here you agreed to the terms of my bet," he said. I sighed. I was beat and knew it. I was only vaguely aware of what was really in store for me, but I knew Howard could do anything he wanted to me.

"Have you ever done this before?" I asked. "Yes," said Howard, "we've done it twice. I should say with only a 50% success rate. On the bright side, you know that what we're asking can be done."

"Come on, Ted," Jessy said, "Don't be a wimp, you can do this. Besides, I want to see your sex."

"Tom," I said, turning to my friend, "talk to him."

"Sorry friend. A deal's a deal." Tom said.

"So whaddya say?" said Howard. "Are you ready?" Relunctantly, I said I was.

***

Tom and Jessy said their good-byes and told me they would see me later. Howard led me out of the room back down the corridor to a dressing room. Inside was an older woman, about 50. "Ted, this is Bernice. She does our wardrobe for scenes like this. She'll get you ready for your big night. I'll leave you now to get ready, but I'll be back at about 8 to get you. By then it will be time to get started." Howard undid my handcuffs and left locking the door from the outside.

"Okay, Ted," said Bernice turning to me, "we have a 'little' G-String for you to wear tonite. And a silk robe for you to put on until it's time so you won't get cold. Meantime, you need to shower and remove any hair on your genitals, asshole, and legs." She handed me a bottle of hair remover, shampoo, soap, a towel and directed me to a shower. "And don't try anything, Howard's probably not too far away." The idea was the last thing on my mind at this point. I knew I couldn't get away.

I headed towards the shower. I waited to strip until I was inside, modest me. I showered and removed every bit of hair from my belly button down to my toes. I had never felt cleaner, and my genitals, legs and ass were completely smooth. My chest is naturally hairless so I didn't have to worry about that. I got out of the shower with my towel on. Across from the shower was a mirror. I momentarily admired my 25 year old 5 foot 11 inch 167 lb athletic frame before I was brought back to my senses by Bernice, who was waving the G-String. "Your costume?" she said.

"Thanks," I said grabbing it. "Could you please turn-around," I asked. Bernice complied, saying "You'll have to get over that modesty before tonite!" I knew she was right. . .

***

It was 7:50. Time had passed quickly. I paced the dressing room, wearing only my robe and G-string. Bernice had kept me company after getting me ready. We had talked some as I was prepared, and I liked her. It was odd knowing she would be there tonite watching my ordeal. She was very non-chalant about it all.

We were startled right then by a knock. The door opened and Howard entered with two men. He introduced them as Jerry and Derek. They were the men from my apartment. Jerry was older, about 50, while Derek was probably only about 30 or so. Behind them was an Asian man in a white lab coat. "It's time." said Howard. "By the way, this is Dr. Jack Lee. He'll be monitoring everything and will be around to help if you, for some reason, need medical assistance tonite. Just a precaution," he said grinning. Bernice moved behind me and slipped off my robe. I blushed with self consciousness, now dressed in only a small leather g-string. Jerry moved behind me with leather wrist-cuffs. He quickly fastened them and grabbed me by the arm. They left very little movement. Derek grabbed my other arm and they headed me for the door. Dr. Lee stopped them. "Hang on. Let me give him this shot." He produced a syringe, wipe down my right arm and quickly inserted the needle.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"You'll be happy I did that," he said. "The contents of the shot should keep you from bleeding so profusely if you get cut. Don't worry, it has no side effects."

Howard then led us to the "torture" chamber with Bernice following.

It was just a short distance to the chamber from my room. When we entered the chamber it was better lit than before. Other than that, the room looked pretty much the same, except that two large-screen TV monitors had been moved in, and were positioned towards the two far corners of the room, on either side of the rack, facing the audience. Spotlights were focused on the rack where I would soon be strapped, I guessed to give the audience, which was still more or less in the dark, the best possible view. I could make out faces in the audience. Almost all of the chairs were full of men and women, most eagerly looking on. I heard mumbling as I entered. Bernice left us and I watched as she took a seat in the front row next to my friends Tom and Jessica, who smiled at me. I mustered the nerve for a smile back. Dr. Lee walked over and stood next to the TV monitor in front of the rack, leaning on the top. "This way," said Howard pointing to the rack. "Ted would you please step up on the platform?"

I was led to the platform right behind the rack. I took a deep breath, swallowed, stepped up and was immediately pushed forward to the rack. I was now, like the rack itself, facing the audience at about a 60 degree angle. The top cross strip crossed right at and below my nipples. Derek and Jerry moved quickly to secure me, fastening the strap around my back and under my arms. Luckily the strip was coated with thin rubber padding and was not cold. I watched their every move, nervously awaiting whatever was in store for me. My eyes followed Howard who was moving behind me to replace the pole behind me and the rack, which I had noticed as I came in was missing. Once replaced it was about three inches from my backside. My wrist cuffs were briefly undone, then hooked to a latch on the far side of the pole and re-secured, with one hand on either side. My upper arms were quickly strapped together, immobilizing my arms completely from my shoulders to my wrists. I gave my hands a tug and found the pole sturdy and unmovable. I was amazed at how quickly the men moved to restrain me. Howard fumbled with the pole behind me some more, saying that in a few minutes he would attach a brace to the top that would hold my head in place. Till, then, he said I could look around. Tom, Jessy and Bernice watched closely as I was secured to the rack. I surveyed the room beyond the audience and noticed for the first time a mirror set across the chamber, but directly in front of me. I could see the whole scene unfold. I watched in the mirror as Howard and Derek kneeled before me.

"Okay, Ted, right in front of and below the platform you're standing on is another smaller platform, just big enough for your toes. I want you to step forward and down onto it." "Okay," I said. I looked down and obliged. I could barely reach it, but finally found my toes resting more or less comfortably on the lower toe platform and watched as the other platform was removed behind me. Having stepped forward my legs were now flush with the cross strips of metal. "Is that all right?" I asked. There was no answer as quickly straps were placed about my thighs tightly fastening them tightly together and to the rack at the mid-cross strip by Derek, while Howard adjusted my toes on the lower platform to bring my feet together. After positioning my feet on the toe platform to his liking he secured me to the rack at the lowest cross strip at the ankles. "Wow, you guys are really being thorough," I said as I glanced across the room in the mirror.

For a moment after I was secured I was left alone before Jerry appeared and produced a pair of shears. With two quick snips my G-String, and what was left of my modesty, vanished. I could see the audience bustling about to get a good look at my hairless, clean shaved organ. They mumbled some more and I even heard a whistle. I looked in the mirror. I was totally naked in front of 30 total strangers and two of my best friends. The position I was strapped in had the effect of thrusting my pelvis forward slightly. Despite my predicament, I was extremely embarrased. I briefly tested my bonds but found I could not move. My awkward position, perched high up on my toes, prevented me from getting any real leverage. Howard had moved to my side. He smile at me. "Showtime!" he whispered in my ear.

"And now, ladies and gentleman, The Guillotine!" said Howard motioning to a parting curtain on the far side of the room. I watched as Derek and Jerry wheeled it out. It was set on a heavy platform with rollers and rose high, almost to the ceiling, with the shiny steel blade hanging at least seven feet above my head. The blade was thin and wide, but glistening and razor sharp. I shuddered. The whole thing was a wide as the rack to which I was strapped. Above the blade at the top was a clock that read 30:00. Looking down, about waist high, were the stocks. The bottom stock was about 5 inches up and down while the top was far narrower. They were only about 1/2 inch thick, and I could see a slit run right down the middle of top stock where the blade would pass on its way to my penis and balls. Set slightly higher than center was the slot through which, I assumed, my sex organs would pass. It looked to be only 1 1/2 to 2 inches in diameter--I could tell it was going to be a tight, uncomfortable fit. With the guillotine facing me, I could see that a small skull and cross-bones had been painted on the front, the mouth the hole through which my genitals would exit. Sharp teeth surrounded the perimeter. I was almost able to manage a laugh. Howard grinned.

"Before we begin, and set Ted in the stocks" Howard said, "we will give a demonstration." He produced a thick kilbasa sausage, slightly smaller than my cock and balls and slipped it through the stocks. It fit just perfectly. As he stood back he raised his hand. When his hand fell, Jerry, managing a trigger on the side of the guillotine, let the blade fall. As it passed through the stocks the Kilbasa leapt off the stocks and landed about a foot in front of the guillotine--neatly sliced in half. I trembled--my penis jumped slightly. I glanced around the audience, finding Tom, Jessy and Bernice impressed with the exhibition. My eyes met theirs, and I knew they could feel my fear rising. Jerry raised the blade and quickly cleaned it before resetting it and locking it into place. I knew I didn't have long now.

"Okay, Ted, time for the real thing," said Howard turning towards me. "I hope you're ready."

"I guess so," I said, swallowing nervously.

Slowly the guillotine and stocks were rolled towards me, Derek and Jerry at each side. As they neared, Howard raised the narrow top stock and lowered the bottom stock. I could see that far more room had been cut from the bottom stock to hold my genitals. I watched every move closely as it neared, my eyes following its progression toward my waiting genitals. Finally, the guillotine and stocks were brought into position in front of me. The stocks pressed hard against my upper legs and lower abdomen --my penis and balls now portruding through the open stocks. Derek secured the supporting arms of the guillotine to the rack to which I was tightly strapped with several latches each at the top and bottom on both sides.

"Ok, Ted," said Howard, "I'll be setting your genitals in position now." As he kneeled in front of me to go to work he reached down and grabbed my balls, gently but firmly, at the base of my scrotum. Instinctively, I tried to jerk away from the unwelcome contact, but to no avail--his grip was tight and I was well secured to the rack. While keeping his firm grip on my testicles he raised the lower stocks until they met flush with the base of my scrotum. He gave it one final push up, which, since I was already high up on my toes, had the effect of raising my genitals up slightly, and locked it in place. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. "Press forward with your pelvis please," he said. "Good," he said as I obliged. He gave my balls another little tug stretching them tight through the stocks. Then he lowered the top stock over my penis, applying slight pressure to close it all the way. "Ah!" I yelped mildly. It was indeed a tight fit. My penis and balls were squeezed tightly at their base to fit through the hole and now bulged through the skull's mouth. Finally Howard locked the top stock into place over my unit. All the while the blade that could bring my doom hung precariously seven feet above--held in place only by the lock.

I had noticed as it the guillotine was wheeled towards me that both the top and bottom stocks each had little eyelets set about a foot and a half apart on either side of the whole. I soon found out why. Derek, by this time had fetched two leather straps. He fastened the first to the top eyelet on my left. He then brought it behind me at my lower back and fastened on the other side. Like the other straps holding me in place it was very tight. He performed the same routine with the second strap, fastening it to the lower eyelets and passing it behind me just below my naked buns.

About that time Jerry, who had left the room, returned with a video camera set above a tripod. He came over to my left side and began setting it up about three feet in front of the guillotine and rack, facing me. "You're recording this?!" I asked in amazement.

"Yes," he said. "But this will also provide the audience a better view of the action," he said looking into the lens, aiming the camera toward my pinioned genitals. "Have a look," he said, turning on the camera. The monitor in front of me flickered on, and up came a close-up image of my genitals tightly secured in the stocks. "There's also a camera up there," he said pointing toward the ceiling. "That way the audience can see your face. That will come up on the other monitor in a minute."

Howard, who had momentarily vanished, returned with a thick rubber band. He again knelt in front of me. "What's that for?" I asked, as brought it over the tip of my penis. "This just helps make sure that we get every bit of you through the stocks that we can. And it should help us get a nice clean cut." He again tugged firmly on my scrotum, pulling my balls and penis completely through the rubber band. He rolled the rubber band down my unit it was flush with the stocks. I gasped slightly in pain. Howard stuck his hand below my balls and wiggled his fingers, tickling my scrotum and the tip of my penis. My genitals jerked slightly in response. "Just want to make sure you're feeling everything down there," he said. I was.

Nonetheless, he invited Dr. Lee over to make sure. I watched as Dr. Lee reached down and lightly wiggled his fingers across my immobilized sac and the tip of by penis. "Tickle, tickle," he said, smiling. It did tickle a little. He then lightly pinched the tip of my penis. "Can you feel that okay?" he asked. I smiled meekly and nodded my head that I could. Satisfied, he left me and reassumed his position nect to the TV monitor.

"All right Ted, we need to make sure you're fully secure. We don't want you trying to pull out before the blade drops," said Howard. "Can you move your hips side to side?" I tried, testing my bonds, but discovered I was very well secured. "No, not at all," I said.

"How about backwards? We don't want you to be able to jerk away on us," said Howard.

"No," I said as I struggled vainly against my bonds. "I can't move at all--I can't do anything but wiggle my fingers and turn my head."

"Good," said Howard. "Then we can move on."

"All right," Howard said, addressing the audience. We will now draw for tonite's spoils. Has everyone entered their name for the raffle?" Raffle, I thought? I turned to Derek. "They do a raffle to see who gets your balls if you, uh, lose," he said. I had no idea, but rejected protesting--I thought I needed my energy for other things. Howard surveyed the small crowd noting that everyone was nodding. Jerry brought in a basket with all the names. "Let's see," Howard said, "why don't we make it ladies choice? Jessica would you like to do the drawing?" Jessica beamed, jumping from her seat.

"Sure!" She fished her hand through the slips, finally pulling one out. As she unfolded the slip of paper she smiled "Oh!, Tom, you won!"

My friend turned to me, shrugging his shoulders. I couldn't believe it. As embarrassed as I was to be strapped naked to the rack as I was in front of this crowd of strangers, I was even more embarrassed now. My friend could be leaving tonite with my genitals! I could tell he felt my embarrassment. Jessica sat down, disappointed in her own bad luck. "Don't worry Jessy," said Tom, "I'll let you share them if he loses them. You too, Bernice. We'll split them three ways." Jessica and Bernice turned and smiled at me. I inhaled deeply and smiled back nervously.

"Allright, allright," Howard said, "before we get this going, Ted, is there anything you want to say?" The realization of what was about to happen finally hit me fully--it was time. And I was really scared.

"Not really," I said as I trembled nervously. "I'm pretty scared. I wish we could call this off."

"Nothing doing, Ted. You made a bet. I'm sorry but you have to live with it."

I knew they would never let me go. I was very afraid, but somewhat resigned. "Okay," I said taking a deep breath, "I'm ready then."

"Okay," said Howard, "Derek, let's make the final preparations." Derek came over with yet another leather strap. I followed him with my eyes as he passed behind me until he was fully out of my sight. Once behind me Derek reached around with the strap, passing it in front of me just below my ribs. "Okay, Ted," he said, "suck in nice and deep for me." I inhaled deeply and felt the belt tighten about my upper abdomen. "Good," he said. "This is going to make breathing very hard once you get started."

I could hear shuffling behind me as Howard and Derek raised the neck brace into position. Futiley I tried to look behind me to watch. I gave up and cast one final glance across the room at the mirror staged opposite from me and at the TV monitor, taking one final survey of my circumstances, and looking down overy my genitals for maybe the last time and caught a glance at a smiling Tom and Jessica before Howard place his hand on my forehead, guiding my head into place. I was now staring straight at the instrument of torture, the blade, gleaming brightly in the lights. Above the clock the camera installed on the ceiling looked down onto my face. A light came on indicating the audience could now see my face close up even though I could no longer see them. A strap was fastened tighly about my neck holding my head in place.

I could hear my heart beating and my chesting heaving. "Oh my gosh. . ." I softly whispered. I could no longer see anyone in the room, but I could hear Howard approach at my side. I could again here shuffling as I saw the top of a ladder appear next to the top of the guillotine. Derek climbed up and grabbed and strung a cord over a hook hanging from the ceiling. Attached to one end was a metal place about 8 inches long and one inch or so wide. One end was coated with rubber. I couldn't see anything at the other end of the cord, but could see that it ran down the side of the guillotine. Howard grabbed the plate and brought it towards my mouth.

"At the other end of this," he said "is 15 lbs of weight. The weight is hanging about three feet above the trigger for the blade. After I slip this into your mouth, you'll have thirty minutes to hold this. One slip and SLICE, down comes the blade and off come your genitals." Suddenly I felt someone fumbling about my balls. "Ah, that's Derek putting the catch bowl in place. Everything is ready, Ted, open wide. After it's in place Derek will release the weight and we'll start."

"No, not yet, please. . ." I begged. "Sorry Ted, open wide," Howard said forcefully. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth. Howard slipped the plate deep into my mouth, but not deep enough to gag me. "Okay," said Howard, "start the clock and let go of the weights."

I gribbed the plate tightly in anticipation. I felt a sharp tug on the plate. "No way I'm going to make it . . ." I thought, shaking, as I watched the first five seconds tick off the clock above the guillotine. I focused intently on the blade hanging precariously over my unit and desperately struggled to hang on. . .

* * *

Pt. 2

Slowly, the time ticked off the clock. 29:00 . . . 28:30 . . .28:00 . . .

My body was tense in its bonds, and I clenched and unclenched my hands, the only part of my body I could move, repeatedly. I could vaguely make out murmurs from the audience, and could hear shuffling about me, but I could see only the huge blade hanging over my vulnuerable manhood, the clock, and the camera.

As the clock reached 24 minutes, I felt for the first time serious pain within my jaws. My heart rate had increased rapidly, and my breathing was labored. I began to feel the effects of the belt strapped tightly below my ribcage--my breathing was reduced to short, labored breaths. When the clock ticked to 23 minutes I heard Howard's now familiar voice "How are we doing Ted? Oops, don't try to answer that, we don't want to cut this wonderful show short." He laughed and I could hear the audience laugh as well. My penis jumped slightly reflexively, and the muscles in my legs tightened. I desperately wanted to beg and plead for a short break, but dared not open my mouth.

In addition to the pain in my jaws, I desperately needed a drink. The plate had dried my mouth out. Just as the clock struck 22 minutes I felt the first slip of the plate from my clenched teeth. It had barely moved, but it had moved nonetheless. Though the audience could likely not see the slip they definitely saw me tense as it happened, and they began to mumble and chatter audibly.

"Having trouble Ted?" asked a gently laughing voice. It was Jessy. I groaned slightly, but clenched my jaws tighter, determined not to allow the plate to slip further.

But it was hopeless. Though it had barely moved, the plate had escaped the part of my mouth where I could get the best grip on it. It now required far more pressure to maintain my hold.

"You know," said Horward to the audience, "we had planned on adding some weight about halfway through. . .I don't think that will be necessary though."

And he was right. As the clock moved past the 21 minute mark it slipped further, and this time it was noticeable to the audience. My head strained against the brace to maintain my grip, but to no avail. The plate had slipped almost halfway out of my mouth.

I knew now it was a matter of time. "No, no, no," I thought. "This can't be happening . . ."

Though I knew it was futile, I desperately attempted to move my hips and pull away from the guillotine. It was instinctive--I knew I had no chance of escape. It was also foolish. In my vain struggle the plate slipped further, and now I gripped it only by my front teeth.

Howard approached from the side. "Okay Ted, we'll let you off. All you have to do is promise to pay me $100,000. Ah, but you can't do that without losing your genitals can you? You're really in a predicament." There was sarcasm in his voice. The audience was eating it up. I could hear derisive laughter and continued chatter.

20 minutes, 19:45, 19:30 . . . Suddenly, the plate slipped almost completely from my mouth. "This is it," I thought. Howard repeated my thoughts to the audience. "Folks, get ready!"

My whole body was steeled in anticipation . . . every muscle in my body tensed, from my toes to my fingertips, and my already labored breathing increased. My heart was pounding furiously. My clenched hands opened wide. In a split second I felt the plate slip from my teeth and past my lips. I watched and gasped in horror as the plate shot towards the hook on the ceiling. The crowd roared. "Nooo . . ." I whimpered.

Though my view was limited to the blade above me, I could hear the weights dropping down the side of the guillotine. It may only have taken seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Suddenly, I heard a click. I inhaled sharply. It was a sound familiar to me--I had heard the same sound when Howard tested the blade earlier on the kilbasa sausage. The weights had fully dropped triggering the blade. I could see as the blade became disengaged. The lock holding it was released and it began its descent towards my waiting manhood. From its station high above me the blade shot to the ground. I watched until it passed from my view then closed my eyes. I shuddered in fear, and, for the final time, felt my penis throb reflexively in its bonds. An instant later I felt it. . .

"Ahhhhhh!" I screamed and gasped in pain. I could only feel it as it reached, and began its pass through, my immobilized penis. The real pain began as the first wave of air hit my now feminized loins. The audience had gone wild. I felt quick fumbling about my neck, and suddenly found my head released from its bonds. I had grown suddenly cold. I quickly lifted my head and turned my stunned gaze to below me. Already Derek was removing the catch-bowl that held my severed genitals. I watched as he lifted it, my still intact genitals swimming inside. Quickly, the guillotine was unhooked from the rack, and the straps fastening me to the stocks were released. As the guillotine was wheeled away a cold towel filled with ice was applied to my loins by Dr. Lee. My eyes clenched tight and I jumped at the feeling of the cold ice.

I felt the straps binding be to the rack released, and my hands were uncuffed behind me. I was shivering. I watched as my genitals were presented to Tom, who carefully lifted them from the bowl. My mind raced. When I woke up this morning I had no idea what lay in store for me, but I would never have guessed that my day would end like this. In a fleeting instant, my manhood was forever gone.

Carefully I was removed from the rack and place on a stretcher. Straps again held me tightly to the stretcher. They were not necessary, I had no energy to fight. I lifted my head and looked towards my now barren loins. Dr. Lee lifted the towel showing me my flattened loins, winked and said "Let's so you up."

I can't even remember when, but at some point I passed out. While I was down I was sewn up tight, and "reconfigured" where necessary. When I awoke sometime later I was back in my apartment lying on my couch. With one large exception, I was fine, and was even able to walk. I sat up and noticed a videotape on the coffee table. On top was a note. "Thanks for the show!" the note read . . .