Gilly, Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The following day we awoke late, and lay in bed talking for awhile. Brad tried to question me again about our upcoming shopping trip, but I still refused to tell him its purpose. Finally he resigned himself to just going along with me, knowing that he'd learn the answer to his question in due time.

We did our usual Saturday work around the house, and then ate the lunch he prepared. After we finished eating, and Brad had cleared the table, I told him to go out to the garage and get a tape measure. He was again curious, but again I told him to stop asking so many questions and just do what I'd told him.

When he returned to the house with the tape, I was still sitting at the kitchen table. As he walked up to me, I told him to drop his pants and his undershorts. As he handed the tape measure to me, and then followed my directions, I could tell that he knew what I intended to do.

As his shorts fell to the floor, I could see that his cock was semi-erect. I quickly stretched the tape measure along it, then berated him for having such a tiny little penis. At only four inches long then, it certainly could be described as small, but somehow my words seemed to excite him. As I watched the thing, his dick began to stiffen, and soon was sticking straight out from his crotch.

I told him to please try to get a real hard-on, as the pitiful little thing in front of me was just a joke. He reached for it with his hand, apparently intending to fondle it to an increased size. I slapped his hand away, and reminded him that the worthless thing was my property, and I didn't want him touching it until it was time for him to guide it into Gilly's hole.

The mention of Gilly increased his arousal even more, and I thought it was finally big enough to measure. This time the tape read slightly more than seven inches, and I again ridiculed his poor excuse for a cock, saying that it was best for everyone concerned that it come off as soon as possible.

I stood from the chair and told him to follow me to the bedroom. That piqued his interest, and he reached down to pull up his underwear and pants, so he could keep up with me. I scolded him, saying that he seemed to have quite a bit of trouble following my orders, and that I hadn't told him to pull up his pants, just to follow me to the bedroom.

He began to shuffle along behind me, and I again found cause to ridicule him. It was pretty easy to laugh then, because he certainly did look ridiculous baby-stepping along, with his stiffie swinging around wildly.

We finally reached the bedroom and I ordered him to strip. He quickly removed his clothes, and seemed surprised when I took his lightest-weight trousers out of the closet and told him to put them on. He moved toward the chest of drawers to get clean undershorts, and I said sharply, "What in Hell do you think you're doing? Did I tell you to wear underwear? Will you never learn to follow my orders?"

He hung his head for a few seconds, then took the trousers from me and put them on. I was pleased to see that his erection was quite visible, and knew that anyone within twenty feet of him would be able to see it.

I got a tee-shirt out of his drawer, making sure that it was a short one with no tail to lap down over his crotch. As soon as he'd put it on, I told him to stand in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door. I stood behind him and adjusted his cock to my liking, then stroked it to keep him excited. I said, "Okay. You look fine. Let's go shopping."

He hesitated for quite a long time, and I just stood there quietly, waiting for him to make up his mind whether or not he would go out of the house dressed in such a way that his cock would be easily discernible to any casual onlooker. Finally he followed me down the hallway, pausing in the kitchen as I placed the tape measure in my purse.

I told him to drive, and gave him directions to the mall that I wanted to visit. I knew there was a store there that would have just exactly what I needed, since I had visited it just a few days ago. I also knew that the salesperson who would wait on us was an attractive young woman in her mid-twenties. I was sure the combination would provide an amusing afternoon for me, and a supremely embarrassing one for him.

We left for a shopping mall in Denver about 1:00, and when we arrived there I told Brad to park close to the east entrance. He soon found an empty spot and pulled in, and then started to open his door. I said, "Wait a minute, honey. I need a kiss before we go inside." I pulled him to me with one arm, and placed my other hand on his penis. As usual, it was semi-erect, which wasn't how I wanted it.

As we kissed, I fondled his cock, and soon it stiffened to full size. When I was sure he was hard enough to last for awhile, I broke the kiss and said it was time to go inside. I could see that he was reluctant to get out of the car in this public place, but when I said, "Let's go, sweetie. Don't make me wait all day for you", he joined me in front of the car.

I told him to hold hands with me as we walked to the entrance, knowing that he'd be shielding himself with his hands if I didn't give him some other use for them. I glanced at his crotch again, and could see that he was still erect. I was sure that the embarrassment he was feeling was helping to keep him aroused, and knew if that were the case, he'd soon find even more reason to stay hard.

As we walked down the hallway in the mall, I could see several people glance at Brad's crotch, and knew they could tell he had an erection. Two teenage girls walked past us giggling, blushing, and whispering to one another. The best part, though, came when a woman several years older than I walked past us, staring pointedly at his bulging trousers. As she passed, she said to me, "Way to go, girl. Keep him nice and hard." She then laughed and walked on, and I saw Brad blush redder than ever before.

By that time we had reached the door to the particular shop I was looking for, and we entered it. The young woman who had been there on my previous visit greeted us and asked if she could be of assistance. I was still holding Brad's right hand, and he was trying to cover his crotch with his left. His efforts only served to draw her attention to his problem, and she smiled slightly when she saw the bulge in his pants.

I said to her, "Yes. We're looking for a clear-glass jar of some sort. It has to have a tight-fitting lid, one that will seal liquid within it. What can you suggest?"

She thought for a second or two, then asked, "What is the approximate size you'll need? We have several that might work, but most are pretty small, mostly for storing kitchen spices."

I told her that what we were going to put in it was pretty small, only about seven inches long. As soon as I said that, Brad looked quickly at me, and I knew that he had finally figured out just what we were shopping for, and to just what purpose it would be put. That made him blush again, and I was sure that if I had looked at his crotch, I'd have seen his dick begin to throb.

A strange look momentarily passed across the girl's face, then she recovered her poise and asked us to follow her. She led us to a display area that featured several shelves loaded with jars of all sizes, with several of them having clear glass sides and screw-on lids.

As we stood looking at the selections available, she said, "If you could describe the size of the contents, I could make some recommendations."

I said, "Oh, it's really quite small. It's only about seven inches long and maybe this big around." As I said that, I held my forefinger and thumb in a circle, indicating a diameter of less than one inch. I knew that Brad's cock was about twice that size, but thought that this small fib was okay, since it was in a good cause.

At that moment, I could see by the look on her face that the salesperson understood just what I was talking about. I'm sure that she thought the whole thing was just some sort of joke, but she decided to play along in order to make the sale. She next asked, "Will there be liquid contents in the jar, along with his . . ., er I mean the other thing?" When she said that, it was all I could do to keep from breaking out in loud laughter, and I could see Brad flinch and hang his head.

I replied, "Yes. There'll be mostly liquid inside the jar, and that's why I wanted the lid to be able to be sealed."

She nodded in understanding, then selected a nice-looking jar from the shelf and held it up. "How about this one? It was made to display cigars, and so the lid fits tightly to keep them fresh. I'm not sure just how tall it is, but I can get a tape measure from the desk if you'll wait a second."

I told her that wouldn't be necessary, and reached into my purse and pulled out Brad's tape. I handed it to him, saying, "Honey, why don't you check the size of that jar and see if your . . ., uh, the thing will fit in there?" That brought a barely muffled snicker from the girl, and Brad looked like he wanted to die right on the spot.

He struggled to regain his poise, then pulled out the end of the tape measure and placed it inside the jar. It was all he could do to say, "It'll fit." He then handed the tape back to me and I replaced it in my purse. I told the salesgirl that we'd take that jar, as it looked like it would fill the bill just fine. We paid for the purchase, and I gave her a nice tip as a reward for going along with out little "joke". As we turned to walk out of the shop, I heard the girl say quietly behind me, "Ma'am, could I ask you something, please?

We stopped and turned back to her, and I could see her blushing. She was a tall, blonde, strikingly beautiful young woman, probably ten years younger than I. Her fair complexion only accented her blush, and I thought it made her even more attractive.

I waited expectantly for her question, and I finally realized that she couldn't ask it with Brad there. I told him, "Go outside and wait." He obediently walked out the door, and I saw him take a seat on one of the benches that lined the center of the wide hallway.

When I again looked at the girl, she said, "You seem to have good control over your husband." I smiled and said, "Yes. It's a fairly recent thing. My only regret is that it didn't happen years ago." I then waited again for her to ask her question.

Finally she began hesitantly, "I wanted to ask you something, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. It's really none of my business, really, but I just have to ask." She paused again, and I could see that she was very reluctant to continue, but something was forcing her to place herself in this very embarrassing situation.

Finally she said, "I . . ., I just have to know. Are you really going to . . ., to . . ., oh God, I can't go on like this. Are you really going to put his . . ., his 'thing' in that jar?" She hung her head in shame at that point, and I knew she was close to tears.

My mothering instincts came boiling out then, and I stepped close and hugged her. I thought quickly of the possible problems that could result if this stranger learned what was intended for Brad. I had paid for the jar with cash, not my credit card, so she would have no way to learn my name and address. She was a complete stranger to me, and this was only the second time in my life I'd been in this shop, and the third time I'd been in the entire mall. I didn't believe she'd have any way to trace me.

I placed a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face up, then said, "Yes. It's true. That's what I'm going to do with the jar."

I heard her sigh, then she said softly, "I have to talk to you. Please. I'll meet you anywhere you say, at anytime you say. Please."

I could sense the desperation in this young woman, and it made my throat tighten so much it ached. I decided that if this were some sort of "trap", then I, and the other members of the club, simply had no defense against it. Any policeman with enough intelligence to set up such a thing would be more than we could evade, and I decided to just accept her obvious need at face value.

I asked, "When do you have a break?" She almost laughed with relief at this indication that I'd actually take the time to talk to her, then said, "The owner is in the back room now taking a smoke break. When she comes out, I'll tell her that my cousin I haven't seen in years came in a few minutes ago, and that we want to get together for about an hour. We never get many customers at this time of day, so she'll let me be gone that long."

I knew there was a juice bar just a short way up the hall, and told her that I'd meet her there just as soon as she could get off work. She again thanked me, several times actually, and I left the store.

Brad stood as I walked up to where he was seated, and I could see that he had obviously been working on cock control, since his erection was mostly gone. Since he wasn't wearing any underwear, and his trousers were so lightweight, his penis was still quite visible as it hung down his leg. I knew that if he were to again become hard with it trapped in that position, it would be more apparent than ever.

I told him that I was going to run some private errands then, and that he could do whatever he wanted in the meantime. We arranged to meet at the car in an hour, and as he walked one way down the hallway, I walked the other to the juice bar.

I got two juice cups for us, then went to the most secluded table I could see. If the topic of conversation proved to be what I was thinking, then we'd need all the privacy we could get.

She walked through the door less than five minutes later, and I saw her looking quickly around the shop with concern on her face. When she at last saw me, her look of relief was easy to see. As she seated herself across the table from me, she said again, "Thank you. You can't know how much I need to talk to you."

I waited for her to take her own time to begin, knowing that what she needed to talk about must be extremely important, and that I couldn't rush her into anything.

She at last began speaking by introducing herself. "My name's Ingrid, but everyone calls me Angie." At my questioning look, she continued, "I know. Everyone wants to know how 'Angie' came from 'Ingrid'. Momma says that when I was first learning to talk, I told everyone that my name was 'Angid', and so they started calling me Angie. That's what it's been ever since."

I asked her to call me Gwen, then waited for her to continue. She took a sip of the orange juice that I'd brought to the table for her, cleared her throat a couple of times, then began her story.

"If you're really going to do what you told me, then my husband and I need your help desperately." She paused and looked directly at me, and at my nod continued. "Perhaps this whole thing would be easier for both of us if I started back when I was a little girl. I was raised in what everyone would call a model American home, and was as happy as any other little girl."

"My brother was eight years older than I, and I can remember the feelings of hero worship I had for him. Those feelings came to an end shortly after my eighth birthday, when he would have been almost sixteen."

"Momma and Daddy both worked away for home, and since it was summer, my brother and I weren't in school. It was his job to babysit me during the day. I can remember just as if it were yesterday the day he and I were playing Monopoly in his room, and he said that he needed to tell me something very important."

"I could see that what he was going to say was pretty serious, so I put down the dice and waited for him to say whatever it was. He started off by telling me that I was adopted, and that Momma and Daddy had brought me here for him to have when I was old enough. He said that now I was eight, I was old enough."

"I remember asking him what he meant, and trying to keep from crying because this was the first time I had ever known I was adopted. He said that all men needed women to do things for them, and that he'd show me what he meant. He then told me that Momma and Daddy didn't care what he did with me, and that if I bothered them about it, they'd take me to the dog pound and make me live there from then on. That scared me more than anything ever had, and it served to keep me quiet for a long time."

"He then told me to get undressed, and after I did, he did things to me which are simply too painful for me to recall. I'm sure you can imagine what I'm talking about." As she had been speaking, her hands were clasped in front of her on the tabletop, and she was kneading them together. I knew she was close to breaking down, and wanted more than anything else to hug her close to me.

Since we were in this public place, all I did was place one of my hands over hers, and offer what sympathy I could. She finally recovered her composure enough that she could continue, and again went on with her story.

"My brother continued to molest me all that summer, and I never told anyone because he always threatened me with being sent to the dog pound. I know that Momma and Daddy noticed a sudden change in me, and Momma tried to find out what was wrong. I wanted so badly to ask her if I really were adopted, but my brother had told me that Momma and Daddy had said that if I ever dared to mention that subject, or tell them what he was doing to me, they had said they'd just throw me in the trunk of the car and take me to the dog pound. I was simply too scared to say anything to them."

"When school started, my teacher immediately noticed how much I'd changed from the year before. I didn't have any friends, I wouldn't participate in class, my classwork was terrible, and lots of other things. She finally took me to the counselor and told him what she'd observed, and he took me into his office so we could talk."

"School counselors are trained to look for signs of child molestation, and he thought right away that I was a classic case. He knew that my brother was sixteen and living at home, and I guess that's part of the pattern. Anyway, he finally got me to admit what was going on, and he called in my parents."

"As soon as they understood what was being done to me, Daddy said that he'd kill my brother. I can remember his yelling and raging, while Momma was hugging me and crying. She finally got Daddy settled down enough to talk rationally, and they decided between them that they didn't want him sent to prison, so they simply kicked him out of the house with enough money to live on for awhile. We heard about a year later that he'd joined the army and been stationed overseas somewhere. Apparently he'd been involved in a car wreck and killed. Momma cried when the man from the army told us that, but Daddy just said, 'Good riddance'."

"To make a long story shorter, I'll skip the years after that when I was still in school. Suffice it to say that I never dated, and in fact didn't even like to be around boys. Their stupid dominance games and childish behavior just made me pity them. I never had a single date in high school, and didn't miss it one bit."

"That changed when I went to college, and met Andy. He was the sweetest, dearest, most loving man that anyone could imagine. It was love at first sight for both of us, and we were inseparable. We kissed a lot, and I never had a problem with that. As you can probably imagine, my brother wasn't the least bit interested in kissing, so when Andy did that, I didn't bring up any bad memories."

"The first time Andy placed his hand on my breast, I had an anxiety attack. He was really scared, and wanted to call an ambulance, but I came out of it quickly, and told him that it was really nothing. I could see that he was concerned, but decided to accept my explanation."

"About a week after that, we were sitting on the couch in my apartment studying. Andy pulled me to him and kissed me, and it seemed to turn me on quite a bit. I said to myself that I'd be okay this time, and we kissed for a long time. When he placed his hand on my breast again, it bothered me, but not nearly as badly as the time before. I pretended it felt good, and that seemed to encourage him."

"We kissed lots more, and then he unbuttoned my blouse. When he started fondling my bare breasts, I simply couldn't stand it and started screaming again. After he finally got me settled down, I just knew that it wasn't fair to him to let it go on like that, so I told him about my brother."

"I should have predicted that he'd accept my story in the most loving, understanding way possible. He said he couldn't blame me for reacting as I did when he touched me, and he promised that he'd never do it again. I told him how very unfair that was to him, and begged him to forget about me and find someone else. It hurt like Hell to say that, because I loved him more than life itself."

"He told me that he'd never do that, and that the only thing he wanted in the whole world was just to be near me. He said sex wasn't all that important, and that if I didn't want it, then we'd never do it. All the time he was talking to me, I could see the bulge in his pants, and I knew that he was in torment."

"There was simply nothing I could do to help ease his arousal that didn't remind me of my brother. He'd forced me to play with his penis until it shot juice on me, and he'd forced me to put it in my mouth until it did the same thing. I wanted to do those things for Andy, but I just couldn't. I was afraid that I'd start screaming again if I even tried."

"Andy refused to give up on me, and after awhile I accepted that he truly did love me. When he asked me to marry him, I at first refused, saying that it'd simply be too unfair to him. When he said that if I wouldn't be his wife, he had nothing to live for, and would kill himself. I finally gave in and we were married the month we both graduated from college."

"We didn't plan a honeymoon, because the stress of that would have been simply unbearable. Andy offered to sleep in separate beds if that was what I wanted, but I just couldn't bear the thought of doing that."

"I know that he was in constant torment lying there beside me, yet unable to even caress me. There were several times during the night when I'd awaken and he'd be lying on his stomach, moving his hips against the sheet. I knew that he was sound asleep, and was probably having a dream about having a normal sex life. At times like that, I wanted to kill myself so that he could move on with his life and find a normal woman."

"When I finally confessed I'd been having thoughts like that, he almost went crazy. He said that if anything ever happened to me, he wouldn't go on living. It was at that time that we started to seriously consider alternatives."

"We'd been married about two years when he came to me with an idea that he seriously thought would help us. When he described it to me, I thought at first he was joking, but all I had to do was look at his face to see that he was dead serious."

"You see, his idea was that he should have his genitals removed. That would get rid of the cause of his interest in sex, and nobody but us would ever know. Of course, I simply couldn't accept such a thing at that time, but he kept talking about it for several months. I finally began to seriously consider that as a solution for our problem, and then we started to look for help."

"Unless you have had contact with the so-called 'professionals' in the medical community, you have no idea just how hard it is to talk to them. We visited several doctors, in several specialties, and every one of them said that we were crazy to even think of such a thing, and that they wouldn't even consider such an operation."

"By the third year of our marriage, we were desperate. Our desperation reached the point by that time that we began to talk about me doing it to him. I know that you'll think I'm the worst pervert of all time, but the thought of me using a knife to cut off his penis and his testicles began to arouse me. You must think I'm horrible."

I patted her hand again, then said, "Dear heart, you're talking to a woman who in about three weeks is going to remove her husband's cock and balls, and who gets hot as Hell when she thinks about doing it. Sometimes when I think of doing it to him, all I have to do is clench my legs together to have an orgasm. So, no, I don't think you're at all horrible."

She lifted my hand to her lips and softly kissed it, saying, "I had no idea that a person as understanding as you could exist in this world." We were both close to tears at that point, and we picked up our juice cups with our free hands and sipped for awhile.

After a few moments, she continued with her story, "About two months ago, Andy came home after work and said that he had something to show me. He often brought little presents to me, sometimes even a bouquet of flowers. He's just the sweetest, most considerate husband a woman could ever have."

"I was expecting something like that when he brought a package out from behind his back and held it out to me. When I opened it, I didn't know what to make of the contents, because what I saw was what looked like two cigarettes that were obviously homemade, and a small thing that he'd bought at a crafts supplies store. As I looked at it, I could see that it was a small knife like boys use to carve models out of balsa wood, and the writing on the package described it as a 'razor knife'."

"I looked at Andy for an explanation, and he hugged me tightly and kissed me for a long time. As always when he did that, I could feel his penis become erect, and also as always, it made me feel guilty that I wasn't a 'real' wife to him."

"He said that we should sit and talk for awhile, and then he told me that the two cigarettes were marijuana. It was his plan to smoke them to get 'high', as he called it, and then I was to tie him across the kitchen table and use the razor knife on him, just as we had been talking about for so long now. When he finally sobered up, he'd be a eunuch, and our problems would solved."

"I was simply too dumbfounded to speak, and he gave me all the time I needed to absorb what he'd said. After I had protested time after time, and he had insisted time after time, I finally said that I'd try to do it. I warned him that if at any time things seemed to be going wrong, I'd call the ambulance to take him to the hospital, and then the police would probably lock me up."

"We talked and talked, until finally all the details had been worked out, and we got everything we could think of ready at hand in the kitchen. He undressed and lit the first cigarette and started inhaling it and then waiting a long time before blowing out the smoke. By the time he'd finished the first one, he seemed to be pretty far gone, and I knew that if the second one affected him as much as the first, I'd never be able to get him on the table."

"I was able to get him to cooperate a little bit, and finally got him up there, then used the pieces of rope he'd brought in to tie his wrists and ankles to the table legs. I lit the second cigarette and held it while he smoked it. When it was about half gone, he was completely out of his head, and I knew that it was now or never."

"I moved my chair as close as I could to his crotch. By that time, his penis was more erect than I'd ever before seen it. The only other one I'd ever seen in my life was my brother's, and I was only eight then, so I didn't remember much about its size."

"I had read somewhere that the average man's penis is about six inches long, and I was sure Andy's was much longer than that. I know for sure there's no way it would fit in that jar you got for your husband's penis."

"The thing was bobbing up and down there in front of me, and all I could think of was that this was my brother tied to the table, and that I was going to teach him a lesson. I picked up the knife and had actually placed the blade against his skin when I realized what I was thinking. I knew then that this was Andy, the man I loved more than any other person in the world, and that I needed to keep my wits about me or I'd hurt him really bad, or maybe even kill him."

"We had decided that I should castrate him first, since that was supposed to be the easiest part. He figured that once I'd done that much, the penectomy would be simpler to do. I took his sac in one hand, then lowered the point of the knife to it. We had discussed the best way to do it, based on what we'd read about castrating farm animals, and decided that I should open the sac in the center and take out his balls. There were supposed to be two tube-like things in there that I'd have to tie off with thread, and then the tubes would be cut to remove his balls."

"I very carefully and slowly touched his sac with the point of the knife, then pushed it just barely deeper. I remember that at that point I was gasping for breath, and thought I was just frightened by what I was going to do. When the knife point penetrated his sac, he groaned and his cock started spitting its stuff out. At almost the same time, I felt my vagina spasm and knew that I was starting to have an orgasm. I don't know where I ever found the presence of mind to lay down the knife right then, but I did. As I sat there watching his penis spurting, I ground my vagina against the chair seat and had the strongest orgasm ever in my life."

"As soon as I came back to reality, I was just sick at the thought of what had happened. I had tied this wonderful man to the table, then began to think of him as my detestable brother and had actually started to cut off his cock. I had held his balls in my hand and started to castrate him, and then had an orgasm when I knew he was feeling the pain I was giving him. I was sure then that I was the most disgusting person in the world."

"I untied Andy then and half dragged and half carried him to bed, and then let him sleep the rest of the night. I cleaned up the kitchen and put away everything we'd so carefully laid out for me to use. I vowed that never again would I attempt to do such a thing."

"When Andy woke up the next morning, I was already awake and lying beside him. He moved his hands to his crotch, and as soon as he realized he was still whole, began to cry. He kept asking me why I hadn't done it, and kept saying over and over how much he wanted me to do it. I explained to him that I was simply too afraid that something would go wrong, and I'd be there by myself with him dying on the table. I told him that the issue was closed, and that I'd never again agree to do such a thing to him."

She had been staring at the tabletop virutally the whole time during her narration, and as she finished she looked up at me with a pleading expression on her face. She asked in a quiet voice, "Can you help us? Please say you will. Just tell us what to do and we'll do it. Please."

I had the thought then that never before in my life had I wanted to hug someone more, or cry harder than ever before. It was all I could do to keep from rushing to her side and hugging her to me, offering assurances that everything was going to be okay, and that I'd make it better for her. Had we not been in this very public place, that's exactly what I'd have done, but I didn't want to draw any more attention to us than we had already done.

After I regained control of my emotions, I said, "I can help you. I will help you. I promise you that with all my heart."

We both sat there saying nothing, fighting back tears for a long time. Finally, I said, "The things I need to tell you can't be said in this public place. Can you and your husband come to our home sometime?" She replied that they would come anywhere at anytime to get my help, and I continued, "Tomorrow is Sunday. Could you come then?"

She almost broke into hysterical laughter as she felt the enormous relief my answer gave her. She said over and over again, "Thank you so much. We can't ever repay you. You may have saved our lives. You'll never know how close we are to simply putting an end to both our lives rather than going on like this. We'll come anytime you say on Sunday. Just tell me where and when."

I took a small notepad from my purse and wrote my address on it. As I handed it to her, I said, "I'm trusting you more than you can ever know by talking to you about this subject. It's not only the future of myself and my husband that's in your hands, it's all the other women in my group who are also vulnerable. If it ever gets out that we're doing such things to our husbands, our lives as we know them would be over."

She took the paper from me, saying, "This small slip of paper is probably the second-most important thing in my life right now, second only to my husband. There's no way anyone else will ever see it, or hear of it. What time shall we come?"

I asked her to join us for dinner the next evening, then asked if 6:00 would be okay. She said that would be wonderful, and that they'd be there. After I told her to dress casual, we stood and walked from the juice bar. We hugged briefly outside her store, then I checked my watch and saw that more than two hours had elapsed since I'd last seen Brad, and knew that he'd be waiting in the car.

Rather than return home so early in the day, I told Brad to drive around the city for awhile and we'd look for some new sights. The first place I directed him to, of course, was the location of the club. He'd never been there, and had no idea that he was driving by the building where Gilly stood waiting for his visit. I knew the next time he came here, we'd both walk through that door, and then proceed on into the back room. Once in there, his fate was sealed. When he came out, he'd no longer be a man, but just an "it". Every time I had that thought, I found it incredibly exciting, and I once again counted up the days remaining until my dreams at last came true.

We drove around to other places I thought of, and then it was time for dinner. I asked him if he wanted to go to a restaurant and "shamelessly display himself again", or to just get some fast food and take it home. He hurriedly opted for the second choice, and so we stopped at a drive-in and I let him place the order for both of us.

We returned home and ate the food, then sat on the couch again and watched television and talked. I looked out the window and was surprised to see that night had already arrived. I told Brad to draw the curtains, and then get undressed.

Before his trousers even hit the floor, his cock was standing up. I decided the time had come to see if he really meant his request of last night, and said, "Are you thirsty, lover? Would you like a drink now?" As I asked that, I placed my hands on my waistband and began to pull down on it.

It took him a split second to understand what I was asking, but then he quickly said, "Yes. Please. I'm ready now." He had by that time dropped to the floor and lay there on his back. I looked down at him and laughed, then said, "Not here sweetheart. This carpet is too expensive to get stains on it. Let's go to the bathroom. If you do a good job in there, maybe I'll let you try in the other rooms someday."

I held my hand down to him, and helped him to his feet. Still holding his hand, I led him to the bathroom, then instructed him to undress me. His hands were shaking so much that it was all he could do to unbutton my blouse, but he finally was able to do it. He quickly removed it, then knelt at my feet and removed my shoes and socks. After he hastily pulled down my pants and panties, he lay back on the floor once again.

Again I decided to delay his drink, knowing that the anticipation would just make it better for both of us. I lifted my butt onto the countertop of the bathroom cabinet, then drew up both legs and propped my feet on the edge of the top, with my crotch widespread. I said, "Honey, could you lick my feet first, before I give you your drink? All that walking around at the mall made them really hot and sweaty, and you need to clean them for me."

He didn't say anything, just quickly rose to his knees in front of me. He eyes were glued to my pussy, a sight that very few men could have resisted. Finally, I wiggled my toes and said, "Sometime today, lover. Get busy." He then remembered what he was supposed to be doing, and started licking my right foot.

As he licked away, I lowered both hands to my pussy and spread it as wide as I could get it. His eyes never strayed from my crotch, and when I began to slide one finger up and down my slit, he moaned audibly. By that time he had started sucking on my toes, and I began to again feel the arousal I'd noticed before when he did that. I was sure that I could bring myself to orgasm in short order, but wanted to stay nice and horny for the long night ahead.

As he switched to my other foot, I continued to frig myself. He was by now breathing heavily, and moaning regularly. He seemed to be unaware that he was licking between the toes of my sweaty feet, and I was sure that he was imagining that his tongue was buried deep in my delicious cunt.

Finally I decided that we'd both waited long enough for his special treat, and I told him to get on the floor again. He slowly removed his gaze from my widespread pussy, and then resumed his position of the floor. I got down off the cabinet and stood straddling his head, again giving him a view of that part of me that held him in servitude.

After allowing him to look at me for several seconds, I said, "I haven't peed for a long time, because I wanted to hold it for you. You complained last night that I didn't have enough for you to drink, and said that you wanted more. Now you're going to get just what you asked for. Do you still want it?"

He uttered a soft, "Yes." I looked down at him and asked, "Yes, what? Tell me what you want." He started again, this time saying, "I want to drink your pee. Please sit on my mouth and pee in it. I love the taste of your pee. Please let me drink it."

I lowered my crotch to his face, and then sat on his mouth. I said, "Just remember you asked for it, lover. If you make a mess on the floor, I'll make you sorrier than you've ever been."

As soon as I felt his mouth open as wide as he could get it, I began to pee. Unlike last night, I found it easy to start my stream this time, probably because of last night's practice and the fact that I really needed to go, since it'd been at least five hours since my last visit to the toilet.

My stream sprayed into his mouth with such force that I could actually hear it splashing. I had warned myself when planning his first real drink that I'd have to give it to him in fits and starts, giving him a chance to swallow. He at first tried to swallow with his mouth still open, but wasn't having much success. I could hear his throat working, but could tell by the sound that not much was going down. I didn't continue peeing in his mouth because I wanted his first experience to be a good one for him, and not one during which he barfed all over.

I had planned to give him only one drink this first time, thinking that it would probably take him at least a week to work up to the point where he would be ready for any more than just the first one. It was my intention to have him willing to accept and swallow at least two mouthfuls after two weeks of training, and eager for all I could give him by the date of his appointment with Gilly.

You can imagine my surprise, and especially pleasure, when I felt his tongue licking me, and then his mouth sucking my hole. I was sure that meant he was ready for his next drink. Again I started my flow, and had to stop it again so he could swallow it. At his signal with his tongue, I gave him his third mouthful.

During that pause, and when he had swallowed most of it, I felt his hips bucking behind me, and could hear his ass bouncing against the floor. Suddenly something wet and cold hit my back, and I was momentarily startled. I twisted my head around in time to see the last couple of spurts flying from his cock, and knew that he had been so aroused by the act of drinking from my pussy that he had climaxed.

I'll never forget the special feeling that gave me. I think it was probably a feeling of pride in myself more than anything else. I knew that I'd trained Brad to serve as my toilet, and in a time much shorter than Janis had with Ray. She'd be green envy when I told her about this night.

I decided that Brad had swallowed enough of my pee for his first real session, and stood up, saying, "I need you in bed right now, but I'm not about to kiss someone who has a bad case of 'piss-mouth'. Get cleaned up and get in the bedroom right away." As I lay in bed waiting for him, I could hear the sounds of washing and toothbrushing going on in the bathroom, and soon he was beside me, holding me tightly and kissing me.

After we broke the kiss, he said, simply, "Thank you." I looked at him and asked, "For what, lover?" He replied, "For letting me do that. I've wanted to for years, but never could tell you. It was everything I just knew it would be."

I pretended to be exasperated with him, and said, "Do you mean to tell me that you drank my pee because you've wanted to for years, and not because of the training I gave you?" When he acted crestfallen, I smiled so he'd know I was joking, and said, "Lover, I don't care why you did it. I just know that I wanted you to do it, and I'm very glad you did. Now you've had your climax, and I want mine. How about practicing your cum-drinking technique as a follow-up to your pee-drinking performance?"

When he understood what I meant, he rolled to his back. His cock was still, or maybe again, erect. I didn't care which, since either would serve my purpose. I straddled his crotch and lowered my wet pussy, impaling myself on his dick. As I pumped away, we had a conversation which was not only arousing to me, it told of delights to come in the new future.

I started our little talk by saying something about how jealous Janis would be when she learned that my husband had responded to his toilet training much more quickly than her husband. Brad looked puzzled for a split second, then asked, "Do you mean that he drinks her pee too?"

I replied, "Yes. She said she started training him about a year after they got married, and that it took several months to get him to the stage you are after only two days. It took him another two years after that before he provided full service. I'll bet it doesn't take you nearly that long."

He again looked puzzled, then asked, "What's 'full' service? Is there something else I'm supposed to do? If there's something else you want me to do, just tell me. You surely know by now that I'll do it."

I looked down at him and smiled, saying, "Yes, sweetie. There's lots more to toilet service than just drinking a girl's pee. I don't think you're ready for that part just yet, though. We'll give it some more time."

He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then said, "Oh. Yes. There would be more, wouldn't there? You're talking about getting my mouth a little farther back, aren't you? Is that what you mean?"

I said that it was exactly what I meant, and that we'd start working on that part as soon as he was an "expert" at the first part. For right now, I said, "I want to cum. Just shut up and play with my tits while I fuck you. I'm going to plan the things I want to do to you before Gilly has her snack. I want to do lots of stuff to hurt your cock and balls as much as possible, since it's the last chance I'll ever have."

"Just think of all the red-hot needles I'll push clear through your pitiful little excuse for a penis. Imagine how it'd feel to have your tiny little balls taken out of the sac, then doused with gasoline and set on fire. Think about how loud you'd scream if I skinned your worthless dick and covered it with lighter fluid."

Before I was even halfway through describing all those wonderful tortures, his hips began to buck wildly once again, and soon I could feel his cock head expand, followed by the spasms that meant he was shooting his load deep in my pussy. I continued to describe all the exciting things that might happen to him in the back room all during the time he was spurting.

When his orgasm came to an end, I lifted off his cock and moved forward to his mouth. I knew that my own climax was near, as the things I was saying in order to get him aroused had the same effect on me. As he licked my slit clean, and then began to suck his cum out of my pussy, I began to feel the first wave of my release, soon followed by the second. Soon I was deep into my fantasy of nullifying him small piece by small piece, and my orgasm went on and on.

As I finally settled into place beside him, and drifted into the lazy state of mind that comes after a good orgasm, I heard him say, "Soon I won't be able to suck cum out of your pussy. I'll miss doing that."

I told him to roll onto his side, then molded my body to his back. As I took his penis in my hand, to hold it as I usually did when falling asleep, I murmered sleepily, "There'll be plenty of cum for you to drink, my love. Don't you worry about that."

My last waking thought was that I could feel his cock begin to harden once again, and I knew that he was thinking about just what I meant when I said that he'd still be able to suck cum from my pussy even after his cock and balls had been removed.

I was sure he was dropping in to the ages-old fantasy that most men have. You know. The one where a man watches his wife having sex with another man, then is forced to orally service her afterwards. If thinking such a thing turned him on now, I wondered what it would do for him when it actually happened before much longer.

Continued in Chapter 10