Jilly's Job

Jilly's childhood experiences caused her to grow with a thing about 
tsticles - and their removal.

back to index

Jilly's Job


I was enjoying my career as a vet even though the partners, all 
men,  liked to keep the big animal work for themselves and I got  
the cats, dogs and hamsters. For a girl who'd had a long time thing 
about castrating males it wasn't too bad a job.  Cindy, my 
assistant, and I must have taken the testes out of hundreds of tom 
cats and quite a few dogs as well. Still I had a longing to work on 
bigger animals; something about the size of a man would do nicely.


Looking back I think I may have always been a trifle on the 
assertive side. Probably the reason for that is my adrenal glands 
secreted more testosterone than is necessary for a nice well 
behaved girl.

For example, growing up I'd resented boys. They had so much more 
freedom than girls. They could go off on their bikes for a day, 
climb trees, play in the creek and do lots of things that were 
forbidden to girls. I tried to join in with them but they wouldn't 
have me along. On the few occasions they did they made me take off 
my pants and look at me down there. It was kind of humiliating and 
I didn't like it one bit.

One of the guys, Billy Williams who wasn't quite as bad as the rest 
of them, said if I'd be his girl the other boys would leave me 
alone and I'd get to go around with them under his protection. I 
was eight years old at the time and, flattered, I  agreed.

Of course there was a snag. As his girl I had to give him the 
exclusive right to look at me down there and touch me. I didn't 
mind all that much. One boy doing it was not as bad as the whole 
gang of them. And I had to wank him off when he wanted it. I quite 
enjoyed that. Once I learnt what to do and how to do it I found 
there was something exciting about having a boy totally under my 
control, if only for such a short time.

It was probably the idea of controlling something bigger and 
stronger than me that led me to take up horse riding. I used to 
hang around the stables and help out. In those pre-pubescent days, 
dressed in t shirt and jeans and with short hair, people often took 
me for a boy. Usually  I didn't bother to put them right. Somehow 
boys got treated with more respect than girls. 

That's how I came to watch the stallions get gelded. I was mucking 
out the stables when the vet arrived.  She'd seen me around and 
accepted me as part of the scenery there.  "Would you bring me 
Black Flash," she said.

I got Black Flash and led him into the special stall. She got busy 
with some preparations and, because I  was hanging around watching 
her, asked me if I'd like to assist. 

You bet I would. "What are you going to do?"

She looked at me and decided I could take it. "I'm going to geld 
him."

"Geld him?"

"Take out his balls."

"Oh! Those things like boys have behind their willies?"

"Exactly right." At that point the vet must have realised that I 
was a girl. She became confiding and told me what testicles are 
for, what they do and why stallions are better animals for gelding.

"Say you did that to a boy?"

The vet gave an amused smile. I guess she too had wondered about 
that sometimes. "Then he won't turn into a man."

"Like Peter Pan?" Were we onto the secret of eternal youth here? I 
wondered.

"Not like Peter Pan. He'll grow up but he won't ever get a man's 
strength. His voice won't break, and he'll never grow a beard. His 
bones will be smaller too. He'd probably look more like a woman but 
without breasts."

This was all so fascinating to me. The vet added "In fact, years 
ago they used to do that to boy singers to stop their voices from 
breaking. Boys' voices are usually soprano before they break. If 
they were very good they were gelded like Black Flash here and they 
stayed sopranos for ever."

"Didn't they mind?"

"Probably but they didn't have much say in it in those days."

I learnt a lot that day. There was something intriguing about it 
that I liked and it caused that sensitive area in the lower abdomen 
to give off those nice feelings.

Next time I jerked off Billy Williams I paid special attentions to 
his balls in their little bag. I imagined cutting them out like the 
vet had done with Black Flash. I was getting that nice feeling down 
there. I clutched his ball bag in one hand and very gently ran a 
finger of the other up and down his willie. "Have you ever thought 
of having these out, like your tonsils?" I asked, giving the balls 
a squeeze so that he knew what I was talking about.

"Hell no. Why do you ask such a stupid question?" Billy didn't like 
the idea at all.

"I watched the vet do it to some horses. She said they were much 
better for it."

"That's sick." Billy pulled up his pants and left me even before 
he'd had his wank. He couldn't get away fast enough. I knew I was 
on to something really powerful here. His reaction kind of enhanced 
those nice feelings I'd been having.

Over the years as I grew up I put that question to all of the boys 
that I knew well enough to ask. That is, all of the boys whose 
balls I'd held in my hand. The younger they were the more it 
scared 'em.  As they got older they were more prepared to talk 
about it and I noticed that talking about it turned a lot of them 
on. For many young men the idea of castration held a fearful 
fascination. I had a hunch that a fairly high proportion of them 
could be persuaded to part with their precious parts, if one worked 
on them for long enough.

To explore this idea, during college and just after I went out with 
a few older men, guys in their late thirties, early forties. They 
were all materially successful although most of them had failed in 
their marriages. I found that the older a guy is the less important 
his balls are to him. Interestingly, I discovered that the more 
intelligent the guy is, the more likely he is to downgrade the 
importance of his testicles, especially after he has sired all the 
children he wants to pay to raise and educate. 

However, guys who earned a living by, and whose recreation depended 
on physical strength thought like thirteen years olds: that their 
balls were the centre of the universe. Such guys made great studs 
and were ideal for when a girl just wants to get fucked but were 
lousy lovers and boring companions otherwise.


About the time that I was twenty five and established as the small 
animal person with the veterinary partnership  it occurred that it 
might be possible to induce a castration fantasy in just about any 
normal adult male. 

My premise for this was that all those guys I'd spoken to about 
castration got a hard on just from discussing it. All apart from 
Billy Williams, I suppose. He'd just got scared but then, he was 
too young.

Before I go any further with this, let me say that I don't hate men 
or anything like that. I have the same fantasies of love and 
romance and happy marriage as any other girl. I am straight, not 
even bi-. I guess most men find me attractive. I am just a shade 
above average height for a girl,  am naturally slender and only 
take a b cup.  I still keep my auburn hair on the short side and 
have hazel eyes which, as a guy once told me, match my hair.

I wouldn't describe myself as particularly  promiscuous although my 
informal researches into male behaviour, especially at college, 
made it necessary sometimes for me to allow guys a little more 
leeway with my body than propriety would normally sanction.

Anyway, to test my theory about castration fantasies I'd selected a 
35 year old divorcee who claimed to have two children somewhere in 
the background of his life. If I could get him to ask to be 
castrated I would take my theory as proven. I know that a one man 
sample is  not scientific proof but I'd be satisfied. I'd chosen 
the most unlikely of guys to test my theory on.

 He was the go-getter businessman type and he made his money by 
creating businesses, building them up over about two years then 
selling them. He was forever looking for opportunities and worked 
hard, though not always with a high level of business ethics. Jake 
was a very good looking guy, Tall and slim with dark wavy hair, 
blue-grey eyes and a lovely smile. He was smooth and charming, 
totally manipulative,  and my natural instinct was simply to let 
him take everything he wanted. 

Of course, his main intention as far as I was concerned was to get 
into my pants but I'd learnt a lot since my early days and knew how 
to keep him out while retaining his interest. As a result we 
developed quite a close, affectionate relationship.

It was a new experience for Jake to meet a girl who wouldn't let 
him have what he wanted and, in all honesty I wanted him to have 
what he wanted. 

Now the whole point about Jake was that he was a totally normal 
heterosexual guy. A naturally dominant type, he wasn't the least 
bit submissive. Well, not to begin with. And he'd never have dreamt 
in a thousand years that he could be persuaded to have his balls 
cut out. He was becoming annoyed with me because he wasn't getting 
any sex. On our third date he even complained of blue balls!

"Well, would you like a hand job?"

"Ok." In Jake's opinion a hand job was a poor second best to 
intercourse. Still, he knew perfectly well that it was a lot better 
than going home with a hard still on.

I made a production of it, getting him to strip off, working him up 
with body lotion, teasing him to the edge of ejaculation and then 
backing off. I took hold of his balls and examined them.

"You lied to me Jake. You don't have blue balls. They're not the 
least little bit blue."

"Oh get on with it," he sighed.

I continued to study his balls, holding them in my hand and 
manipulating them. "You know, a man's testicles are much like a 
dog's. They'd come out so easily. Have you ever thought of having 
yourself castrated?"

"No. I haven't. Now get on with it, will you?"

" You know Jake, I rather fancy castrating a man for a change. Let 
me know if you change your mind."

"Jilly …"

Having planted the seed of an idea I finished Jake off and 
dutifully cleaned him up.  If my idea was correct the seed would 
grow, he'd think about it and bring the subject up again soon.

Our next date was a drive out to the country to look at large old 
house that he thought might make a good hotel. He'd never been in 
the hotel business before so he'd read up on it and was full of 
enthusiasm about conversions and budget projections. 

Whatever else anyone says about Jake he has vision. Whereas I saw 
an old tumbledown building fit only for demolition Jake could see a 
quaint little country inn with gardens and lawns running down to 
the river. 

There was an old, weathered bench and table buried in the overgrown 
shrubbery at the back of the house on what Jake saw as a velvet 
lawn. I cleaned them up and we had our picnic there.

"It will be so romantic," Jake enthused.  "The ideal place for a 
guy to bring a girl for a dirty week end."  There were limits even 
to Jake's vision.

"Can you really make it happen, Jake?"

"You bet I can." He kissed me and now that he'd got his next 
business venture sorted out  he was ready to turn his attention to 
the other great thing in his life: that famous three letter word 
beginning with 's'. We caressed and cuddled and Jake started to get 
my clothes off.

I let him get me topless. I knew that I looked very good topless in 
jeans and the cool fresh outdoor air on my breasts made them even 
nicer. Then I stripped him nude which he didn't mind at all and we 
kissed, cuddled and petted some more until Jake was aroused enough 
to be manipulated.

I stopped him as he was trying to get my jeans off. "No Jake."

He got angry. "What's up with you Jilly? You've been stalling me on 
sex ever since we met."

"I don't know Jake. Something is holding me back. Tell you what: 
finish this hotel and we'll be the first to have a dirty weekend in 
it. No holds barred. I promise."

"I can't wait that long."

"How long is that?"

"At least three months. Probably six."

"Oh that's nothing. In any case there are other nice things besides 
intercourse." I was gently teasing his prick as we spoke and of 
course that was irresistible for him.

He responded by kissing me gently, first on the lips and then on my 
nipples. Jake was good and my instinct was to give in to him. I 
would have done if it had gone on much longer.  I got him to lay on 
his back and gently teased him around the pubic area, his prick 
pointing skyward.

"You have a lovely prick, Jake. It really is something to look 
forward to."  I kissed his prick, licking the salty pre-come at the 
tip and slid my lips down to its base. Jake loved it and I had an 
excuse to say  " .. but it would be nicer without that hair growing 
on it. Next time we're at my place I want to give you a shave 
there."

"What's with you Jillie? Last time you wanted to cut my balls out. 
Now you want to cut my prick hairs off." He was teasing me and 
wasn't a bit put out. He was enjoying himself immensely.

"The hair removal is an immediate improvement; but there's no great 
hurry for these to come out. "  I tickled his balls and gave them a 
squeeze. 

"Why should they come out at all?"

"Health reasons mostly, and some other advantages." I muttered, 
concentrating on his genital stimulation. "Quite a few guys have it 
done. Perhaps some just like the idea."

With Jake's prick in my hand I could easily gauge his reaction. The 
idea was a turn on for him.

I made a point of giving him a lovely long wank so that he would be 
looking forward to the next time. It was such a powerful climax 
that the ejaculate landed on his face and he was rather proud of 
that.

"Just as well we didn't have intercourse," I told him as I cleaned 
him up. "A burst that powerful would have done damage to me down 
there.

He grinned proudly. "It's not usually that strong."

He was like a little boy as I put his clothes back on him.

Thinking about it afterward, I realised that things were going my 
way in our relationship. I had refused to let Jake have intercourse 
and he'd accepted that. It was his acceptance that was important, 
not my refusal. It meant that I was the dominant one where sex was 
concerned and I was fairly sure that Jake had accepted that without 
him actually realising it. I'd been able to pre-empt what could so 
easily have been an argument by side tracking him with the hand 
job. Of course I had always deferred to Jake and acknowledged 
his 'masculine superiority' so he was quite happy with the way 
things were going between us. As far as intercourse went he'd at 
least got a promise so it not only gave him something to look 
forward to but he'd value it all the more when he got it.

"So far so good, Jillie-Girl," I told myself. " Now don't let 
yourself louse it up."  There was a real risk that I would. I 
fancied Jake rotten.

Jake went ahead with his hotel project.  Watching him in action was 
like watching a speeded up movie. He thought of something and had 
to get it moving there and then. Buy the land - speak to the 
realtor, take transfer - speak to the lawyer, speak to the 
architect, chase up the contractors, look at kitchen equipment, get 
hotel staff. The gardens? Get on to the landscaper. It was a 
whirlwind of phone calls and meetings.

Jake on a project was total commitment. It was three weeks before 
he rang me up for another date and I was beginning to wonder if I'd 
been dumped. He took me out for supper at the country hotel that 
had given him the idea in the first place. It was owner managed by 
a couple in their fifties. The guy had been a tanker captain and 
this had been his dream on the hauls from the Gulf to off-loading 
port. 

Jake got speaking to the owners. He found out the problems of the 
business, managed to get us a tour of the kitchens (spotless), look 
at the rooms (all different, all delightful), and the furniture was 
all period, all consistent and matching, a lot of it was authentic.

I had a feeling we'd be on to the interior designer in the morning. 
I was wrong. Jake called him that evening in the hotel, snug in 
front of a blazing log fire over coffee and liqueur. The designer, 
once he'd established that this was a genuine call, didn't mind in 
the least talking business at nine in the evening.

Jake took me home and came in for a night cap. He was still on a 
high from his business talk and restless. I was feeling rather 
mellow from the food and wine.

"So what about that hair removal you promised me?"

Hair removal? Oh yes! I'd forgotten my promise to shave the hairs 
off his willie but it was something that Jake had been looking 
forward to. "All right. Go and shower first."

He came out of the shower nude and all nice and clean. I'd had time 
to think and I decided that the best way to shave his prick was 
with him standing on a foot stool and me sitting in front of him. 
Purely as a safety measure I asked him to hang on to the bar of my 
exercise machine above his head. Surprise surprise! He couldn't 
reach the bar so I slipped two leather straps around his wrists, 
hung them over the bar and attached them to the frame.

All done one step at a time, Jake didn't realise how helpless he 
was until it was too late.  Not that he seemed to mind. He stood 
there quite happily with a good hard on awaiting attention.  I'd 
noticed that guys love a women to pay attention to their pricks. If 
more women realised that and fussed over their man's prick from 
time to time there would be fewer broken relationships.

Jake was loving his willie shave and stood there like a perfectly 
behaved little boy as I lathered him up with a shaving brush. "Now 
be perfectly still," I commanded as I picked up the safety razor. 
He was. It didn't take long. I cleaned him up and complimented him 
on how much better it looked. And how much bigger too. "That hair 
was hiding the full magnificence."

A guy will take any amount of compliments about his prick. Jake had 
a good average fully circumcised 6" prick. It had a slight downward 
curve when it was standing out horizontally. 

I cupped his hairy scrotum. "I'd like to shave this too but I don't 
want to scare you."

"Go on then."

So I did his balls as well. It wasn't really the best position for 
a ball shave but I took my time and managed not to spill any blood. 
At the end his smooth hairless balls looked lovely and cute. 

"Oh Jake that really does look much better. Can I take a picture?"

"No."

Actually I took several and put the camera away before I let him 
down. "Come and see." I led him to the full length mirror in my 
bedroom and got him to admire himself and my work.

"It's so cute I'm going to eat it," I told him. I got him to lay on 
the bed and I licked the tip of his prick. "Now don't be too quick. 
I want us both to enjoy this."

Of course he came in about ten seconds flat as I rather suspected 
he would. I'd found that the area around the circumcision scar is a 
particularly sensitive spot for guys who've been cut  and I pressed 
my lips there.

I swallowed the ejaculate. "Oh Jake, couldn't you have made it last 
longer?"

"Sorry. But that was so nice. Couldn't help it."

After Jake had left I thought about where this was all going. Jake, 
for all his dynamism and hard headed businessman instincts, was a 
pussy cat when it came to sex. I had the impression that he was 
quite happy for me to be in control and set the pace. He enjoyed it 
in fact. It occurred to me that men are like that because it gives 
them a break from being out there all day every day making deals, 
driving projects, fighting the battles of life. Not that women 
don't do that too but then, women are so much stronger. In any 
case, women always have the option of reverting back 
into 'helpless' femininity when they feel like it.

I wasn't in any great hurry with my project to get Jake's 
castration fantasy  going. I was enjoying his company and becoming 
fond of him. Probably as a consequence of not letting him have 
intercourse with me we had fallen into an old fashioned courtship 
which I was enjoying immensely. However, it turned out that the 
seed I had planted had not fallen on stony ground. 

We were driving back from a site visit to Jake's hotel project when 
he brought up the subject.

"What was that you were saying the other day about some guys having 
their balls off?"

"Apparently there are health benefits from a low testosterone 
level."

"Really?"

"Mainly to do with some forms of cancer and the cardiovascular 
system. Those are the two most common causes of death in men."

"Yeah but surely that's older guys."

"It is for the most part but you quite often hear of men in their 
thirties and forties dropping dead from  heart failure."

"Yeah. I know of some."

"It's a bit like smoking." I told him. "Give up smoking before you 
get lung cancer and have to have a lung out. Makes sense doesn't 
it? You're certainly going to have to give it up after they've 
taken the lung out."

"That does, but what's it got to do with castration?"

"Have your testicles removed before you get prostate or testicular 
cancer because they'll have to come out then and you've still got 
cancer."

He laughed. "So what you are saying is that it's better to have no 
balls and be healthy than to have no balls and cancer."

"Not only cancer, there's clogged up arteries and heart disease as 
well. What I'm saying: it's better to be alive with no balls than 
to be a corpse with or without balls."

"Hell, Jillie. That almost makes sense. It's so convincing that it 
scares me."

"It shouldn't. If you think about it the only thing that castration 
takes away from you is fertility. A guy that's had all the kids he 
wants loses nothing."

"What about sex?"

"Testosterone patches. You charge up for when you want it. The rest 
of the time you run on low.  Remember it's the brain that controls 
your libido, not your other parts - despite all that male bullshit 
to the contrary."

He was quiet for a while, thinking. "Stick-on patches like women 
use in hormone replacement therapy?"

"Yes. Put the patch on and in three hours you are fully 
operational."

"Really?"

"Not only that Jake, but because you've been running on low 
testosterone your arteries are in better condition so you get a 
better erection."

Back at the flat Jake held me close and kissed me. I could tell how 
excited he was as he pressed against me. I got him to undress and 
scolded him for having a bristly prick. He hadn't been tending to 
his genital shaving. I insisted on shaving him before I let him 
touch me. After that we had a lovely session of kissing cuddling 
and petting. It took all my resolve not to have sex with him but I 
managed to hold out. When it was time for his hand job I held his 
balls in my hand and gently worked them. I didn't say anything but 
I knew what he was thinking.  He came much too quickly and with a 
powerful ejaculation.
 
"Really Jake, I hope you last longer than that for intercourse."

"It's all you're fault," he replied. "You are too sexy."

"That's right, blame the woman. Typical male chauvinist behaviour."

About a week later I was at work with a Great Dane standing on the 
operating table. Cindy, my assistant was distracting him with 
biscuits and a lot of fuss and attention.

I was giving time for the local anaesthetic to work when Jake came 
in. Having injected the local I had to finish. I introduced Jake to 
Cindy and Jake helped her distract the dog. When he saw what I was 
doing he came round to the dog's other end, just in time to see me 
snip off the second testicle and begin suturing. 

"Hell, you're castrating the dog and he isn't taking any notice." 
The dog was happily responding to Cindy's attention. It was quite 
oblivious of what I was doing at his back end.

"Why should he?" I'm not hurting him."

"There's a lucky doggy," Cindy said as I finished up. "Now you're 
going to be much better off without those nasties at the back 
aren't you?"

"Woof." The Great Dane barked and happily wagged it's tail as if it 
agreed completely with Cindy. It probably wanted another biscuit.

Cindy led the dog off and Jake wanted me to go with him to look at 
his hotel.

"How could that dog be so casual when he's being castrated?" Jake 
wanted to know as we drove out.

"They all are. I told you before, any male is better off without 
testicles."

"The poor dog. I'd never do that to a dog."

"You see Jake, you are a victim of cultural conditioning. It's all 
a big con trick that nature and society play on men."

"How do you mean?"

"Men have testicles so they will compete to sow their seed. Nature 
planned it that way for the perpetuation of the species. Nature 
doesn't give a dam' about you personally, Jake. It just wants you 
to organise your life to dump your sperm into as many fertile 
females as you can get into."

"Like that dog before you fixed it?"

"Exactly like that dog. And in return for all that time money and 
effort what do you get? An orgasm that's over in a few seconds. On 
any objective basis it's never worth it." I paused. "Actually 
nature isn't totally ruthless: she's put the testicles on the 
outside so they're easy to remove."

Jake laughed. "You think that's a deliberate design feature?"

"Of course it is. Think for yourself. Testicles are every bit as 
complicated and even more delicate than the other organs. Yet every 
other organ is protected inside the body. The only real reason that 
your testicles are hanging outside is so that they can easily be 
removed."

"I thought it was something to do with a lower temperature for the 
sperm."

"If you measure the temperature of testes they're at exactly the 
same temperature as the rest of the body. The sperm stored in the 
epididymus is actually inside the body so it's got nothing  to do 
with temperature. The doctors who wrote those text books were all 
men and they couldn't bear to conceive the idea that castration is 
good for men "

"So this castration-is -good-for-you thing is a new idea?"

"It's been known for centuries but society has always played it 
down. Mostly rulers have wanted men to keep their balls and be 
macho idiots so they could be persuaded to fight when it came to 
war. "

Jake thought for a moment. "Also guys who were thinking about sex 
wouldn't be pondering the ruler's motives. Hell! It does make sense 
in a weird sort of way."

"It only seems weird because it's new to you, Jake. I think that it 
will be the conventional wisdom in a few years time."

Jake was thoughtful for a moment. "You know, Jilly: all this talk 
about castration and how it's good for you, why should it be such a 
big sexual turn on?"

"Is it?" I feigned naïve surprise. "It's just plain common sense to 
me. Maybe it's a trick of nature to get you do something for your 
own good."

We drove on in silence to the hotel. I let Jake think his thoughts 
and wondered just how far I could lead him along this path.

We pulled into what was already the hotel car park and stopped. 
Jake put the car into park and pulled up the handbrake. Jake looked 
at me. "You know Jillie, all this talk about castration, I've never 
taken it seriously. Just put it down to your job. And a sort of 
standing joke between us, I suppose. But you could be right. Let's 
go and look at the hotel."

He got out of the car, leaving me there. His sudden change of topic 
all in the same breath had confused me for a moment. I hurried 
after him.

The structural work was complete.  The builders had left and the 
decorators were applying their finishing touches. Apart from the 
new smell of everything the place looked like a well maintained two 
hundred year old building which, I realised, was exactly what it 
was. It had a warm comfortable and welcoming feel to it. It was a 
friendly building.

We looked around. Jake was proud of the kitchen. Catering equipment 
was being installed. The dining room was waiting for the furniture. 
So were most of the other rooms. We went upstairs, carefully 
avoiding the carpet contractors who were hard at it on the 
staircase. One or two bedrooms were furnished and they were lovely. 
I told Jake so and that I was in awe of what he had achieved.

"This is nothing. Come and look at the bridal suite."

The bridal suite was on the third and top level.  On the door to 
the suite a discrete sign bore the legend "The Jolly Roger Suite." 
Jake noticed my smile when I saw it. "Do you think that's in bad 
taste?"

"Not for the people who are going to stay here."

"Beginning with us," Jake said. He unlocked the door, picked me up 
like I was feather light and carried me over the threshold  into 
the suite.

It was magnificent. There was light wood panelling on the walls, a 
delightfully impractical cream carpet made me kick off my shoes. 
The furniture consisted of period pieces chosen to give an 
atmosphere of quiet luxury and comfort.  A french window opened 
onto a balcony with magnificent view over the surrounding 
countryside.

Jake sat down at the table on the balcony. "This is designed to 
catch the early morning sun. Then you can have breakfast here in 
the nude." He got up and kissed me. "Come and tell me what you 
think of the bedroom."

The bedroom was decorated in a similar manner to the living room 
except the cream carpet had an even less practical deep shaggy 
pile. A romantic four poster bed hung with white lacy curtains just 
invited me to sit on it. It was soft and comfortable. 

"Genuine down mattress on a sprung base, custom made," Jake told 
me. "Come and look at the bathroom."

It had a double bath. It was beautiful. 

There was a balcony or sun deck off the bedroom. "Catches the 
afternoon and late evening sun." Jake indicated the double lounger 
under a retractable awning. "You can get an all over tan here."

He kissed me again. "This weekend then?"

Oh yes please! I pretended to hesitate and acted shy. I nodded, 
coyly.

On the way back Jake was caring and attentive. How I loved it.

I was really looking forward to the weekend with Jake in the Jolly 
Roger Suite at his hotel. I bought new clothes and was as excited 
as a teenager about to go on her first date.

Cindy noticed. "You're in love with him."

"Don't be silly. He's just a friend."

Cindy just smiled.

I left work early on Friday giving myself three hours to get ready.

Jake called for me exactly on time and took me away to the most 
idyllic weekend of my life. He was perfect: kind courteous and 
charming. The hotel was open and there were other guests there. The 
young manager and his staff were as anxious as Jake to make a 
success of the venture. Jake entertained some of the guests without 
cramping his manager's style. And he certainly entertained me.

As a lover Jake was in a class of his own. I happily surrendered 
myself to him and he took me to heights that I hadn't known 
existed. This was the guy I should spend the rest of my life with. 
I had an image of walking arm in arm with him down life's leafy 
country lane, of two or three kids and a country cottage with a 
picket fence and smart, trim lawns. I was in love with him.

On Sunday afternoon as we were getting ready to leave Jake was 
taking a shower when the telephone rang. Probably a wrong number I 
thought, answering it. Nobody knew where we were. 

"Jake is that you?" a woman's voice said before I could even say 
hello.

I was curious so I lied. "Mandrake Hotel, reception. How may I help 
you?"

"Oh dam'. Put me through to Jake Manners." 

"I'm sorry ma'am. Mr. Manners is out at present. May I take a 
message?"

"Yeah. Tell that bast- . Er tell him to ring Doris. It's urgent."

"Certainly Ma'am. Will Mr. Manners know the number?"

She gave me a number and rang off. I jotted it down before I could 
forget. Jake came out of the shower. He looked so delicious I 
decided Doris and her 'urgent' could wait.

It was almost an hour later. "Oh by the way, Doris phoned and 
wanted you to call her back. Urgent."

Jake didn't say anything but the look on his face was that of a man 
dutifully about to perform an unpleasant task.

Despite my burning curiosity I walked out to the sun deck where 
Jake and I had spent the afternoon so very happily working on our 
tans. I could hear Jake talking but not make out the words. Part of 
me didn't want to know what he was saying. The rest of me was dying 
to know.

It wasn't a long call and when he came out on to the sun deck I 
resisted the urge to ask him about it.

Whatever it was about, the call cast a damper on our drive home. I 
could tell that Jake was upset about it and he didn't speak much. I 
tried to make him lighten up by complimenting him on the hotel but 
it didn't work.

His dark mood was getting on my nerves, especially after such a 
perfect weekend. I found that I was beginning to hate Doris, 
whoever she was. 

I was about to say something when Jake blurted out "Doris wants me 
to go back to her." 

I looked at him in amazement. "Doris being your ex-wife?"

I got the whole story. He'd never talked about it before. Now I 
understood why. It had been  a normal enough marriage until Doris, 
feeling neglected by Jake's dedication to his business took a 
lover. The affair became serious. When Jake found out about it 
there was an unholy row, bitter recriminations and the marriage was 
doomed. That was ok by Doris. She preferred her lover. Doris got 
the children and was free to marry again which she did as soon as 
the divorce was granted.

Now the second husband had left her, Doris was on her own and 
wanted her man back. She used the one argument that would 
work: "for the sake of the children."

It was a very sad goodbye at my flat. Each of us was in love with 
the other in a romance that was doomed just as it was starting. I 
hated Jake for going back to Doris but even so I respected his 
reasons. If Doris had been there at the time I'd probably have 
killed her.

We said our goodbyes and Jake walked away. I watched him go. At the 
corner he stopped and came back.  "Jillie, that bilateral 
orchidectomy you recommended as a pre-emptive health measure …"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps this would be a good time to have it done. I won't be 
needing them any more."

I'd been holding back the tears and this was too much. I clung to 
Jake and wept. For a man like Jake to come out with such words just 
broke my heart.  I hugged him. "I'll set it up for you."

It is a simple procedure and didn't take much organising. We'd do 
it at my flat and I asked  Cindy to assist. The appointment was for 
Friday lunch time. This would give him Friday afternoon and the 
weekend to recuperate.

Once she knew the full story Cindy was enthusiastic. "What a great 
idea to send him back to his wife without his balls," was her 
comment. I must admit that thought had occurred to me too but I'd 
tried to suppress it. 

Cindy also reminded me that the reason I'd got into the 
relationship with Jake in the first place was because of my 
interest in castrating  human males. I clung to that thought and 
told myself that my ideas were about to be vindicated. My theory 
that you could induce a castration desire in any male was proven 
beyond anything I'd expected. Jake had actually asked me to 
castrate him.

Of course, what I was about to do was nagging at my conscience. Was 
I cutting the balls off this man that I'd grown to love because I 
couldn't have him? Or was it my life long pre-occupation with 
testicles on humans? There'd always been something of a turn on in 
the idea for me. Cutting the balls off a man,  bringing him down to 
my level, had been a favourite fantasy of mine. Perhaps it was a 
kind of revenge on males for the humiliation I felt when they 
looked inside my knickers all those years ago.  The one thing of 
which I had no doubt was that it would really be good for Jake's 
health. He'd have a longer, healthier life without testicles.

Even now, as I looked around the room all set up for Jake's 
castration, the idea of what I was about to do caused a moistening 
in an intimate area. I decided it might be nice for Jake if Cindy 
and I worked nude. Instead of the biscuits that she usually dished 
out to those males about to be castrated, Cindy could give him a 
wank. If I knew Jake at all he would like that.

Cindy arrived. I briefed her on the procedure and she was happy 
about it. She liked the idea of working nude and giving Jake a 
farewell wank. In fact she was so enthusiastic and excited about 
the whole thing that it dawned on me that Cindy had a thing about 
castrating males much as I did. Perhaps I wasn't so unusual in this 
respect after all.

Jake gave me a hug when he arrived sharp on twelve. He didn't look 
as happy and confident as he normally did and his expression was 
slightly drawn. Completely absent was that air Jake normally had of 
a man who is totally in control. This is an unhappy man, I though 
as we led him into the living room of my flat, converted into an 
operating theatre. 

Cindy and I were both wearing new  white lab coats for the 
occasion. We thought it would create a professional atmosphere. We 
suggested that Jake empty his bladder and then come back for the 
preliminaries. When he did I got him to take off his shirt and I 
checked out his heart, took his blood pressure and checked a blood 
sample for cholesterol and a few other things. Both his blood 
pressure and cholesterol were a shade on the high side. I didn't 
say anything to him about that.

"Ok Jake, you're fine.  Get your pants off." He looked at Cindy and 
I realised he was a bit shy about taking off his pants with Cindy 
there. Cindy turned round and busied herself at the surgical tray. 
Jake took off his shoes and socks, dropped his pants and shorts and 
was completely nude. He did not have an erection. We'll have to do 
something about that, I thought. I wanted him to enjoy this. 

Actually I wanted him to go back to that bitch of an ex-wife with 
no balls and a happy memory of the girl he could have had. I know 
that's not a very noble thought but it was a perfectly honest one. 

"Hmm. A little prepping is in order." I remarked on examining on 
examining Jake's balls.  "He's been neglecting to shave down 
there," I told Cindy. "Would you prep him for me."

Cindy attentions with shaving brush and razor on Jake's pubes had 
the desired effect.  He was all nice and clean and smooth down 
there. Cindy applied some disinfectant to the skin. I'd 
experimented with this. Normally disinfectant is too concentrated 
and stings. I tried several different dilutions to get something 
which would just tingle. Jake's scrotum would be tingling nicely 
for the next few minutes.

"Now a couple of things, Jake. For this procedure would you mind if 
Cindy and I worked in the nude? It would be more comfortable us."

"Of course I wouldn't mind."

At this Cindy slipped off her white coat. She was braless under it. 
Without any modesty whatsoever she slipped off her white satin 
panties exposing her neatly trimmed pubic hair to Jake's captive 
gaze.

"Secondly Jake,  I'm going to give you a local anaesthetic. It's 
very good and there's no pain. Because it's just a local I'm not 
giving you a muscle relaxant. So during the procedure I'd like to 
restrain you so you don't twitch at the wrong moment."

"Ok."

"Right would you get into position please."

Cindy help Jake get into position. We'd improvised a stool on a 
table, all suitably  padded for comfort. Jake had to get on the 
table and kneel doggy style with his knees apart, his chest resting 
on the stool. This presented his balls at just a nice working 
height.

As Cindy applied the restraints I removed my white coat. I'd 
treated myself to a new bra and panty set for the occasion with 
matching garter belt and stockings. I took down the half slip and 
noticed that I had Jake's full attention.  To remove the stockings 
I put one foot on a chair that happened to be placed where Jake 
could watch me, rolled down the stocking and hung it over the back 
of the chair. Same procedure with the other one. 

It's often occurred to me that undressing with a man watching is a 
totally different procedure from just whipping your clothes off 
when you're by yourself. I was rather enjoying myself. I contrived 
to make a production of stripping without actually seeming to be 
playing up to Jake.

I noticed that Cindy had Jake fully restrained. I gave her a nod 
and she injected the anaesthetic into Jake's scrotum. Jake's 
attention was focussed on my panties coming down so he probably 
didn't even feel the pricks as the needle went in, four ml on each 
side.

I stepped out of my panties, placed them on the chair and wasted a 
few moments arranging my clothes on the chair. Cindy was rubbing a 
finger lightly along the length of Jake's prick. 

I went around to Jake's 'business' end and cupped his balls. "Now 
Jake, it takes a few minutes for the anaesthetic to take effect." 
At the same time I made two incisions in the scrotum and caused the 
testicles to come and hang on their cords. 

Cindy was watching intently, one hand working Jake's prick, the 
other the other working her own pubic area. I understood how she 
felt. I knew I was very moist down there myself.

"Are you comfortable Jake?" I asked him.

"Jillie, I've changed my mind. I want you to marry me."

"You can't Jake. You're going back to Doris."

At this point Cindy started working Jake's prick in earnest.

"Jillie, it's you I love."  Jake was gasping as Cindy's hand 
brought him close to his climax. It occurred to me that this was 
one of the more unusual proposals of marriage. "Let's get married. 
We're good for each other. We can set up home, have some kids. Make 
a life for ourselves. We'd be happy -"

Jake paused as Cindy got him to climax and he squirted his come 
under the stool his chest was resting on. 

'' - together." Jake managed to complete his sentence.

"Well, if that's what you really want, Jake but you'd have to do 
right by Doris first. And we can't have children …" 

I moved round to Jake's front end and showed him the kidney shaped 
surgical bowl.  " You don't have any testicles. "

His balls were in the bowl.

"You'll be much better off without those nasties," Cindy told him.