Although castrating young men was the central, strongest passion in her life, she was a woman of many varied interests and pastimes. For example, she loved her work. She loved animals and she loved taking care of them and helping them get better when they were sick. And of course she also loved living on her stately (without being ostentatious) estate, and riding in her Bentley, and eating gourmet food, occasional holidays in exotic locales, fine wines, Belgian chocolates, and just generally being stinking rich.

During the course of her workaday life, everywhere she went she saw men that she had castrated. On the streets of all the towns, working on all the estates that she visited in her professional capacity. There was always a silent mutual acknowledgement. She would lift her head slightly, inquisitively, and they would respond by slightly nodding theirs in deference and respect. They were always very helpful to her. Very quietly servile and obedient. And those with money, such as portly old Sir Guy DeCombersome, were also very helpful with monetary contributions and assistance.

She was fond of men, but also a little contempuous. They were really such simple creatures. Like helpless baby animals, almost. So easy to guide and manipulate. A woman only had to show them a little affection to get their attention, and then it was just a matter of maintaining one's composure and being firm, and you could lead them around like little lambs. Lead them right up to the special frame/stocks that would have such an indelible effect on their status in life, in the world.

And as a superior woman, she felt more than entitled to do whatever she fancied with these lesser creatures, men. It just so happened that what she was most fond of doing was to castrate them, to turn them into mild, submissive eunuchs. And since she had discovered just how grateful they were to her for doing it to them, she had every reason in the world to carry on doing it, and none to stop. And they made such darling little pets, eunuchs did. She sometimes marveled at her luck, living in West Bollocksfordshire amongst all her hundreds of eunuch pets living and walking about everywhere she went.

And she was the only one who saw them as such. (Although, she supposed that they could probably recognize each other. It was a possibility she never felt much curiousity about and so had never bothered to look into very closely) Anyone else walking down a busy high street would just see a motley collection of men and women. But Doc Granger saw that every 4th or 5th person was one of her eunuchs, and it gave her little shivers and goosebumps whenever she did. It was just so sweet and devilish.

One aspect of her eunuchs' devotion to her surprised even her. They would help her select new candidates for her to carry out her special private obsession on. This would usually tend to be some new addition to an estate's staff. A young man who was still pretty green, pretty immature. Someone who was a great deal more self-centered than self-aware. And her little secret society of eunuchs also seemed to have a sixth sense, an intuition, about when she was really beginning to keenly feel the need to satisfy her inner urge to castrate.

Today, it was little Timmy himself that brought the latest candidate for conquest to Doc Granger's attention. And she had to admit it, she had been itching to do a castration more and more lately. In any event, the prospective conquest in question was a new lad, newly arrived in West Bollocksfordshire from Wales, by the name of Billy Burdick. With Timmy's earnest encouragement, Billy was soon persuaded to get into the vet's Bentley to be taken to her home for an evening of dining, socializing and entertainment in the lap of luxury. As Doc Granger got into the car she gave Timmy the thumbs up, to which he responded with a weak, but earnest smile of assent.

Some hours later, Billy found himself, naked and strapped into a sort of forward crouching position in Doc Granger's special stocks. He was just recovering form an wrenching, shuddering orgasm brought on by her devilish automated milking sleeve. Then, he felt the prick of the anesthetic needle near his scrotum and began to get a little worried. When the anesthetic had taken effect, he began to feel Doc Granger begin her work on his shaved scrotum, and there was no doubt in his mind what it was she was doing to him. He began to struggle desperately to get free, and to whimper and beg and plead with her not to do this to him. She just ignored him and, humming contentedly to herself, carried on with her kinky, cruel handiwork. Soon he became still, and as she was stitching the last stitches up in his scrotum, she snuck a peak up at the monitor that showed his face, and there she saw Billy wearing the customary dopey/goofy "happy eunuch face" she found so wonderfully erotic and satisfying.

An hour later, she pulled into the yard at the DeCombersome's and little Timmy was there to meet them. Timmy helped Billy get up out of the car, and then helped him walk back to his bunk room off the stables. They were half way across the yard when little Timmy heard the Bentley door slam and then the car quickly reverse and turn and then speed out of the yard, leaving it in almost pitch darkness. Little Timmy heard Billy softly whimper next to his ear, "why, Timmy, why did she do it, why?"