My Master's Wife

One man offered the information that all his male slaves were automatically relieved of their balls on entering his service. One man, a physician, sometimes chuckled when these stories were told, so finally one man asked why he was amused.

“In truth, my friends, cutting off a man’s balls does not automatically mean he loses his ability to act out the part of a man in a woman’s bed!” He wiped his lips carefully and sipped some wine, then wiped them again. He motioned to the slave for a hookah of tobacco.

“Surely you don’t mean my ball-less slave can become erect and enter a woman?” He looked with his mouth agape and his eyebrows drawn darkly over his wide eyes.

“It is entirely possible,” the physician blew a large smoke ring across the table and watched it float, then hang, then untangle into the air. He nodded to a young slave and the boy came and dropped to his knees next to the doctor’s couch and discreetly removed the man’s penis and began to caress and suck on it. This was common after the meal and several other of the guests signaled for slaves to join him to use his mouth and hands to relax the man so he could nap a few hours before returning to his business. Since females were forbidden to be in the room at this time, all the service had to be performed by males.

“But all male slaves are like women already,” I offered, “look how they prefer to serve men rather than be men.”

One of the younger slaves blushed, I noticed, while the older ones were more used to ignoring our conversation as they should be concentrating on serving their masters.

The Physician looked at me with interest, then continued addressing the older man.

“No, Sir, with all due respect, your male slaves are quite capable of becoming erect and acting out your part with your wife, except his weaker fluids cannot make a son for you.” The others all laughed, and even the man himself saw the humor in it. But all men paid absolute respect the this doctor who might someday be performing surgery on any of them. No one wished to offend him.

“What about you, peach fuzz?” he said to me, mock sternly, with a frown. It was the custom for the older men to treat me like this. I was very young for a businessman, although I had the start of a thick black beard on my cheeks.

I smiled respectfully. “I, Sir?”

“Who else is peach fuzz here?’ the Doctor roared as if reprimanding me. We all smiled at his act with me. It was actually a compliment as the action inferred the great man was interested in me and would offer to boost my career if he found me worthy.

It was embarrassing of course, but a great man was not to be refused. I felt my chest tighten with excitement as I saw my fortune and career suddenly take a turn for the better. I would be rich and respected here, and the benefits would start immediately when the other men found out. I would be offered many opportunities. My blood was pounding in my head as I thought of the riches that would be available to me.

“What about your wife and slave?” he almost whispered it.

I blushed deeply both at his force and his question.

“Sir, I have neither one as yet,” I explained.

“We must find a mate for you. Let us all see here if perhaps you are not able to have a wife.”

A sound rippled around the room and I was speechless. He was inviting me to display my genitals to all the men in the room. To your culture it might seem outrageous, but in ours it was the same as him inviting me to come under his bounty and receive certain advantages in my career. It was also traditional for a young man to display himself like before prospective fathers-in-law to prove his worth as someone who could bring many children into his clan. If my own father had lived he would have done this ceremony of coming to manhood instead of this Physician. My fortune was assured. My family name would be respected.

I opened my long, cotton coat and dropped it to the floor, I undid my pants and dropped them as well then stepped out and displayed my family jewels to everyone. I was not ashamed. I had a long, heavy cock that hung nestled in a thick black bush and was draped by two large heavy balls, one slightly lower than the other. The men murmured, then clapped their hands once in approval, and I was told to clothe myself in honor.

But I did not count on the jealousy of my employer. He had a son my age and he had been passed over by me. It struck me as I returned to my work with my employer and his brooding son. I looked once or twice askance to my employer to know why he was angry with me. The Physician had chosen me to favor, I had not approached him. But that did not ease his anger. So the next day when I was expecting the Physician’s henchmen to come to take me to his house for the start of my service to him some men did come and I went with them.

I was a fool!

These men were servants of the family of my employer and instead of taking me to my interview with the Physician I was taken to a slave dealer where I was clamped into a full set of irons. I thought at the time that the Physician would send his men to seek me out as he had offered me an important position in our city. But I did not know that my not being there waiting for his henchmen was seen as a refusal of the favors and I had insulted the man by not being there. My employer must have told him that I had purposely refused. So no one would be bothering to look for someone stupid enough to refuse such an offer.

Later, when I was sold and taken to my new owner’s house to be his personal slave, I found out what happened. I met a slave there who also had served my employer, and he too had been sold into slavery in a way similar to my own abduction. He told me that he had heard it rumored that many of our former employer’s best employees disappeared, and now he knew it was true. We shared our sadness at our fate, but both of us submitted to serving our master well. We were slaves now and had no recourse to justice. Our lives were secondary to our master’s and had to be sacrificed to his use.

It was then that I learned why all male slave became so compliant. First I was sent for three days to the torturers where my former pretensions were beat out of me quickly. I was trained to kneel before my owner constantly, always be ready to jump at his command. I had to focus my whole being on him, to do nothing but watch and anticipate his wishes and wait for his orders. If I turned away from him even for a moment I might miss something and be punished for disobedience. In fact I had to attend him as a devoted lover, to worship him, always under the threat of the whip, always worrying tha I might be sent back to the torture room.

I served my owner as his personal body servant for three years. As such I was subject to being used by him sexually, often having to open my mouth to relieve his erection when he was too tired to bother with his wife or mistresses. I had my mouth raped hard as he slammed his hips against my face. Less frequently I had to bend over and hold open my cheeks for his pleasure as well, but most male slaves just served as menials or assistants to him. Being his body servant, I also bathed him, cut his hair, groomed his nails and massaged him, woke him up and put him to bed. Most slaves were not trained to serve a master so intimately.

One day he called me before him. I knelt, my head bowed, not daring to look at him without his order. Silent…impassive…his slave. He ignored me for some time. Not that he was doing anything better, but just because he did not feel like informing me of his wishes yet. What else did I have to do? I waited impassively, interminably, till he spoke.

When he finally talked to me I learned that my world was suddenly to be shattered again. He talked and the words were like an unreal babble in my ears, like glass falling from a broken window, yet I knew he was serious. I had no way out of it. I was his slave and he could do what he wanted to me.

But this! I could not believe -- THIS! I was to have my balls cut off and would be assigned as a body slave to my mistress, his wife, a woman I had never seen.

Without a pause two strong men came from the next room and took me, one by each arm, out of the house and into a transportation box which -- absurdly -- was being carried by two other slaves. I was taken – again a twist of fate – to the same Physician who had lured me. But he did not look at slaves and ignored my face. He would not recognize me anyway with my slave shorn hair, smooth cheeks and body and my fearful look. And I was not allowed to speak unless I was told to.

With no concern for my pain, my ball sac was notched up tight with two thick twisted wire cords, with a space left between each bond. The pain was terrible, but no sedative was ever given a slave. I was gelded by a stroke of fire, I felt, then the wires removed and I was stitched up tight where once I had some respectabe heavy balls dangling. I fainted and when I woke I was being jostled in the carrying box again and dumped out when we entered my master’s house. I was sent to the major domo, with no regard for the crippling ache in between my legs. I was brought again to the feet of my master, where I would resume my duties, and not bother him with my pain. Immediately he bent me over and poked me with is hard penis, again and again through the night, then I was set to my work. I was whipped hard for mistakes or clumsiness as before. When the swelling finally went down and the stitches taken out, I had a smooth soft scar right up under the base of my cock. Well, at least, since I was not allowed to use them, I had one less sensitive spot for my master to kick. He did enjoy rubbing his erect penis there a few times, making me hold my legs tight for him. Then he lost interest in me.

So, I was given to my mistress. I was taken to her room by an overseer and made to get on my knees. I was dressed in a light sleeveless shirt that was too short to cover me if I bent and dropped away to reveal my belly and cock when I bowed to her. It had no belt and could be removed in an instant either over my head or by dropping it to the floor. I was scared then. I never had handled a woman as a slave and only a few times as a free man. She looked at me, as I looked at the floor. Then suddenly I was stripped naked and the overseer laid into me with his short whip, holding me by the hair and giving me a very nasty whipping in front of my new mistress and her female servants. Then I was put back on my knees feeling like my skin was on fire to wait on her. I was terribly humiliated, so holding my head down was easy.

I was scared because no one told me what to do if she wanted something. At one point, she snapped her fingers and made me get on the floor and lick her feet thoroughly with my tongue.

Then: “Let me see your cut, Slave.”

There was no mistaking that order. I got on my back before her and held my legs open for her. She examined my whole ball-less crotch, playing with my shaft and with my asshole. Slowly I became erect. I was surprised to see my cock rose out of a bare field instead of a rocky hill now. She scrutinized what was left of my organs, running a fingernail up the underside of my shaft, following it down along the scar and into my crotch. She used her fingertip to probe around the entrance to my asshole, and poked it up against the dry pucker. I knew better than to make any noise although the fingernail hurt like a blade. She dipped her finger into a small bowl of cream and then pushed and entered my hole. I flushed with shame. She noticed it and smiled to herself as she worked in and out of my hole. This was part of what she wanted with me. Subjugating me like this, me holding my legs open for her instead of vice versa. I had no choice except to hold in that position to her. She owned me. I was her slave.

I had to get back on my knees before her and she pinched and toyed with my nipples. Then I was made to understand that my face was to go between her legs, up against the thick black bush of hair that guarded her dark almost purplish cunt. Her labia was well developed. Not a tight little cunt, but a well developed one with ridges popping up firm from her outer lips, like a fence on either side of her clitoris. The smell was high and strong. I felt my head being pushed close in, not unkindly, just to instruct me in the proper position for my mistress to enjoy my tongue against her. I timidly began to use it licking on either side. She began to writhe against my mouth and I worked my tongue faster. Soon my face was buried inside her wet sex, smelling her juices as they washed over me. This was no virgin pussy, but an active, well used and aggressive organ with a large clitoris. She came fast and I was put to work to bring her again and again to orgasm. I thought she would never allow me to stop, but finally her smooth strong thighs clamped around my head and held me still while she began to snore lightly.

Well, that part of my duties as her personal slave were clear to me. I found it an escape, being taken into her magnificent grotto and burying my slave existence, the boredom and work and tedious waiting, all the time waiting for an order to come. Yes, it was deeply erotic for me, although I hated being dominated and used by her. But I had to contain my resentment and submit to her use of me. I was her slave and feared her. She also could have me killed if I went against her in any way. She could have me killed just at her whim. She put me under her in several positions depending on her mood. And always I got a large erection, but being a slave, I was not allowed any release. As a eunuch it was not so painful, but I did still feel the desire to have release. I knew such thoughts were not proper for a slave who wished to live, as I was there for her use and that was all. It was why they had cut off my balls in the first place.

Then the other parts of my duties were taught to me. I learned to empty her chamber pot, clean her rooms, wash her beautiful smooth body, massage her, and assist her hair dressers, kneeling and holding their tools humbly and patiently while they chatted with her. I was worked from before the hour she awoke to after the hour she fell into sleep. Then she became bored with my tongue and began to whip me in frustration. It was that she needed a man besides the infrequent visits of my master to her bed. She began to drink wine and in her rages I suffered being dangled by my ankles and whipped by her, or punished by the stronger arm of the overseer. And never did I do anything to deserve it.

Finally she noticed that I was having erections while I licked her and she hatched a plot to put my neglected organ to use. She started by whipping it and torturing it. It was painful and frightening as losing my balls had increased my wish to keep my shaft, even if in reality it belonged to her and not to me any longer. Now she was torturing it, and her tortures became more dangerous for me. She got a small sharp dagger and would scrape it sideways up and down and around my penis, and sometimes just accidentally allow it to nick me and draw some blood. I would lie in terror that she would exercise her right to slice it off. In my mind I begged her not to do that to me but the lure of it was also tantalizing me with the wish to know how it felt. I increased my eagerness to serve her by becoming more passionate and innovative when I knelt with my mouth at her grotto.

She graduated me up to more and sharper objects, a series of small knives always trailing them dangerously along and around my penis. She would pull back my loose foreskin and balance the knives, sometimes by the tips of the blades on the cock head. Sometimes she would insert the tip of the knife and lightly move it around inside my piss hole. Sometimes I bled. Usually I was allowed only to fear it. But always I never knew what she would do to me. Then she decided to circumcise me. Cruelly she did not warn me in advance, so I was jolted into helpless terror when it happened. I was cut by a young skillful physician, again without the benefit of anesthesia. I suffered little loss of blood, but that did not prevent my pain and agony during the operation, and the weeks that followed.

My mistress was impatient for her new pleasure to commence and before I was truly ready she forced me to lie on my back, tied my wrists and ankles to the bed and mounted my hard rod. She rode it and rode it that first time, moving and writhing around on it with it buried deep up inside. I could feel her hot hairy cunt lips rubbing around, clutching my aching organ. I was in great fear and agony, despite my erection, as I was sensitive still from the cutting. I even bled some as she tore open the thin scar partly when she stroked it hard up and down in her tight fist. She did not care about anything but her own boredom and pleasures. As she rode me I found myself actually starting to have an orgasm and tried desperately to stop it. It could mean death for me. But she would not stop and I was only a weak slave and finally, sobbing, allowed my cock to spasm and shoot my useless semen. If she noticed or cared I don’t know, as she was involved in her own deep perverted lusts riding me like a stallion, or maybe like a mule. I lost my hardness then and she felt it and sat back angry at me. She slapped my face. Then again and again. But she had had many orgasms so she finally just rolled over, ordered me to cleanse her with my tongue until she slept. I was ecstatic from my forbidden slave orgasm and made sure I licked her well and thoroughly. She moaned in her drowsy state. I was actually controlling her with my tongue and the thrill of fear at what she might do if she turned on me charged my daring. I wished I could fuck her instead of just being a slave who lay under her domination. I was in lust with her now and I wanted to have her as a man would. The idea fired my desire to please her more and more as I licked her. I prayed that she would decide to use me in that way.

It was not long before this wish came true and I found myself being put in different positions. Finally I had her under me with her legs spread as she spread mine. Once she dressed me as a soldier and made me mount her as if I were a real man, raping her. This fantasy took over her lusts and we enacted it again and again. Of course no man could pump into her as many times as she had her orgasm, so my lack of need to be satisfied – or my lack of permission – gave her a handsome male dressed as a soldier to “rape” her again and again. I confess at times to experiencing a quiet orgasm without her realizing it. Usually she was so frenzied with her own fantasies, she knew not what her slave did. And truthfully my spasms were weak – eunuch orgasms. But the danger of her discovering it thrilled me. She had not given me permission for this and I stood in danger if she found out.

Then my life ended. I was saying the words and acting the rape when unexpectently, her husband, who never came to her chambers, came through the door and caught us in our embrace. He was furious. I was torn off of her and punched hard in the nose, which broke with a sickening pop in my face. He attacked me with his riding crop, kicking me and punching me, the saliva drooling out of his mouth as he screamed in outrage at me. The whip struck my soft cock again and again. His boots kicked my belly, my ribs, my skull.

I was taken to his underground punishment room and stripped naked. Several servants held me in place and he sliced off my cock. But I mean sliced it…not just one cut at the base, but on the butcher block, starting at the head and slicing it into thin disks of bloody meat. I screamed in terror and pain as each new cut of his blade sliced another thick wafer of my cock off of me. My blood was stemmed with a tight cord, but the pain was not diminished. I was being taught a lesson and the pain was the teacher. I watched them take each slice and toss it to the dogs that were waiting to gobble them down. Every three or four cuts, the blade was re-sharpened as I watched in horror. Finally my long shaft was gone totally. I who once had stood proud as a young businessman while other men applauded my cock and balls, was now a mere slave with an empty crotch, shrieking for mercy from my master. I looked down when it was finished. All that was left was a smear of blood and a crude twist of leather which had held it under his knife. They shoved a long hollow reed into me, deep into my bladder and tied it there. I would heal around it, and a little nipple would indicate where once a proud shaft had lifted out of the hair.

This was when I learned I would not be killed, but kept as a lowly servant here, as a total eunuch, to be used as a relief hole by the other slaves and overseers of the house. My punishment was complete and I had never committed a crime to earn any of it.