Coping Alone and Succeeding
By: Kortpeel ([email protected])
[STRAIGHT] [TESTICLES] Other:
A single mother is has financial problems but her special skills
help her succeed
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Coping Alone and Succeeding
by
Kotpeel
I was in a spot. I loved my job as a theatre sister but it just
didn't pay enough. Timmy, my three year old needed medical
treatment and I had to find some way to pay for it. Being a single
parent is not easy at the best of times and at that stage times
were far from the best. I was still legally to married to that
wimp of a husband who'd run off with some floozy just after Tim was
born. If I could have found the bastard I could have got some
maintenance out of him.
In the end I took a part time job at a massage parlour. One part
of my life that wasn't too bad was my appearance. I'm a tall slim
attractive brunette. I don't have particularly large breasts but
what I did have was shapely and fitted in well with the rest of me.
I felt I could face the clientele with confidence.
It was actually quite strenuous work. Giving a decent massage is
tiring but I found it was good for me. Muscle tone and skin
improved considerably from the exercise. I even lost the last of
the weight that I'd put on through having Tim. One pleasant
surprise was that the clientele were for the most part very
courteous and polite. A lot of them were shy and nervous too which
made then quite pliant. The best clients were those happily
married to quite unimaginative wives and who just wanted a little
adventure in their otherwise dull lives. Stripping nude, getting a
topless massage and pelvic once a month or so met their need quite
adequately.
Some wanted full house but they didn't get it from me. A couple of
the other girls were quite happy to provide that service for a fee.
In fact most of the girls had a little speciality for extra
income. Apart from the two who provided full house, there were
Donna who was submissive and for ever being tied up and Ann and
Megan who specialised in being nasty to their masochistic clientele.
By the time Timmy was over his treatment and well again I found I
quite enjoyed my part time job and I decided to stay on for a while
and get a little cash in the bank. I like the company of the other
girls there and I suppose, I didn't really mind jerking of several
different penises each session. I'd built up a nice corps of
regular and I even enjoyed massaging a few of them.
As Ann once remarked, I was remarkably chaste for a sex worker. I
hadn't had sex with any one since my marriage broke up. I suppose
it had been the pressure of two jobs and Tim being ill. Plus of
course that outside of my clients there wasn't a man in my life
and, I admit, I didn't look for one.
Masturbation will only take a girl so far and I found, that as I
was getting out of money worries, was very fit from my two jobs and
Tim being well I began to get those urges again. Because of this my
clients, being the only men in my life, were getting five star
treatments. Then just after my 32nd birthday Ann and Megan asked
me to help them with a special client.
"You are a nurse, aren't you? Megan said.
"Yes. Theatre Sister. Nice work but badly paid."
"We've got a client who wants er special treatment."
I could only think of one thing. "Circumcision?"
"Not quite. He wants his balls taken out."
I thought they were joking. There'd been quite a few guys in my
life who I'd like to have done that to. Particularly the bastard
I'd married. "As in castration?"
"Yes."
"Bloody hell!"
"Actually, we do get queries about that from time to time," Ann
said.
"But until now we've had to turn them away."
I was shocked and quite appalled. They were talking about this
outrageous thing as if it were normal.
"We had one who tried to cut himself off and he bled to death."
Megan told me. "There was a hell of a fuss. We had the police round
and everything."
There are several no-noes in the massage parlour business. One is
don't get involved with clients another is don't get involved with
the police.
"We thought you'd know how to do it properly. With anaesthetic and
stitches and all that, " Ann said.
I did know. It was a fairly routine procedure for men with
prostate cancer. I'd even done it myself under the surgeon's
supervision. Usually the patients were elderly and it wasn't as
upsetting for them as it would be for a younger man. Even so none
of them had ever been happy about it. The idea that any man would
actually want his testicles removed was something that had never
occurred to me.
"It does happen," Megan said. She seemed to accept it as normal. It
occurred to me that this was a woman who every day dealt with guys
who like to be tied and flogged and have their pubic hairs plucked
out with tweezers as punishment for bad behaviour. Well, I supposed
that anything was possible.
"You'd need some special equipment. Sterile conditions. And there's
a whole load of legal aspects. Have you spoken to Sally about it?"
Sally was our Madam. She was in great shape for a woman in her
fifties. She had a few regular clients of her own "just to keep
my hand in dear" but mostly she ran the business side of things.
Behind her bluff friendly exterior "I'm just a tart at heart" Sally
had a mind for business that was razor sharp. She knew a chance for
a buck when it came her way but she could see the snags too.
She spoke to me about the procedure, it's risks and effects, the
equipment needed and what it would cost. There were legal and
ethical considerations too. I knew she consulted a lawyer who, as
it happened, was one of her regulars. The lawyer was of the
opinion that it would constitute practicing medicine without a
license and was therefore illegal. Of course, in the nature of
things you'd probably get away with it but if you didn't …"
"If you didn't," meant that the client had to sign a water tight
release form that the lawyer drew up for Sally.
Sally consulted another of her client about a possible castration.
This one was a surgeon, elderly and with chronic arthritis so he
was perforce retired. She told him that there was an experienced
theatre sister on the staff , me, and he who loved surgery, took
the opportunity to associate himself with the business. He and I
had a chat. Our paths had crossed before, years ago when I was
training. I knew him but he of course did not remember me. He
interviewed me. It was one of medicine's unusual occasions as he
was nude at the time with Sally rubbing his legs and I was
topless. The surgeon told Sally that I would be perfectly capable
of nutting a guy without complications.
Next step was the interview with the client. Sally in a position of
authority behind her large executive desk was looking at papers as
Ann and Megan led in a naked client held by pink ropes attached to
his genitals. His hands were cuffed behind him. I got a hell of a
shock at this sight and gasped aloud. Ann and Megan grinned at me.
I'd been standing by the door so the client hadn't seen me.
Sally looked at the client with withering contempt . "Why do you
want to become a eunuch?"
"I have these unseemly urges. I want to be free of them."
"Tell me about your urges."
"I keep wanting to put my penis into a woman's private parts."
"That is disgusting."
"I understand that becoming a eunuch will stop all that."
Megan gave him a poke with her cattle prod that rolled him off
balance so he lay on the floor. "Shut up and don't speak until I
ask you a question."
It was the most degrading thing I'd ever seen but the client seemed
to be loving it. They messed him around some more and then Megan
jerked him off while Sally asked me if I would be prepared to nut
him. She mentioned a fee for the service that made me catch my
breath. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. I was still in a state
of shocked surprise and couldn't trust my voice. I nodded
acceptance and walked out.
For the occasion I wore a surgical mask and gown. Ann and Megan
prepped him which meant shaving his pubes and getting him into the
stirrups, one of their props, and making sure he was well and truly
strapped. He couldn't even twitch. Sally had made sure he'd paid up
front and signed the release form. I walked on in surgical cap,
mask and gown. We'd practiced a little theatre to give the client
value for money. As I stood in front of him Ann and Megan took off
my gown. From the neck down I wore only surgical gloves.
"This is your last chance," Megan told him. "After I ring the gong
you are committed. Do you want to proceed?"
"Oh yes please." The client had a beautiful erection to which Ann
was tenderly attending and seemed thoroughly to be enjoying himself.
I injected the anaesthetic and gently massaged his balls while it
took effect. After a few minutes I nodded to Megan who
ceremoniously rang the gong. He was committed.
Normally , for an orchidectomy the testicles are removed through
small incisions in the scrotum. Prosthetic testicles are inserted
so the patient looks and feels as normal as possible afterwards. In
this case I wanted the patient to look like a eunuch. I began with
an incision around the root of the scrotum so that it came away
leaving the two purplish testes hanging in the air on their cords.
There was some bleeding of course but not too much. I tied off the
cords and knelt below the patient while Megan gave him a blow job.
As he came I snipped the cords and the testicles dropped into the
surgical tray I held to catch them.
As I sewed up the wound and dressed it Ann and Megan were
administering tender aftercare, stroking the patient who was
actually trembling from the emotion of it all.
I nodded for Ann and Megan to release the patient and I put my
gown on again as they unstrapped him. I stood up and showed him his
testicles and scrotum: they looked a pathetic bloody mess in the
tray. He stared at them. I removed the cap and surgical mask and he
saw my face for the first time.
"Christ! You?" he exclaimed and fainted.
"That is my husband," I told Ann and Megan. "Many's the time I
wanted to cut his balls off and now I have."
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