Hanging On

Tim's strong minded wife is no longer interested in sex and now 
their second child is born she decides their marriage would be much 
happier without his disgusting, lustful urges.

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Hanging On

by Kortpeel


Part of Jane's charm for me was that I could never really 
understand her. For example on the first night of our honeymoon  my 
new, sweet, innocent and still virgin wife minutely examined my 
genitalia. "This is all mine now." she said. "It all belongs to me 
and you are just wearing it for me."

Then she decided it was too hairy. "That hair doesn't look nice." 
She shaved my cock and balls before I was allowed to consummate our 
marriage. "I really don't like pubic hair ," she said as she 
admired her work. "This looks much smarter. Will you keep it like 
that for me?"

I'd never expected such dominance from her. During our courtship 
she was always very wary of anything to do with sex. I'd never got 
further than inside her bra the whole time. She was strong on good 
works. She visited lonely people at the old age home. She was 
active in the church too.

Later on during our honeymoon she was playing with my balls. "Do 
you know why testicles are on the outside?"

"Something to do with a lower temperature for sperm production?"

"No. That's not true. They run at exactly the same temperature as 
the rest of the body."

"Then why are they on the outside?"

"It's to make it easier to remove them."

"Really?"

"Yes.  Most males of any species are dangerous and indulge in 
antisocial behaviour. This is so that they can easily be removed to 
improve behaviour."

"I don't like that idea much."

"Also of course, testosterone is actually quite bad for you."

"It is?

"Of course. It's a well known fact that women live longer than men. 
Statistically, a man without testicles lives fifteen years longer."

 "How do you know all this?"

"Oh from general reading. And from talking to lots of lonely old 
widows at the old age home I visit. Of the couples still left, the 
men have no testicles."

"They told you?"

"Their wives told me. They enjoyed talking about it. Mostly they'd 
lost them in the war. It didn't bother them. They were still very 
happy. Those men actually said they were better off without. As a 
side benefit, none of them had gone bald."

Jane knew that I was developing a bald spot on the top of my head 
and was a little sensitive about it. she continued "And of course 
without testicles a man doesn't fight or get drunk or be unfaithful 
to his wife. So it would be better for you to have them off. It'll 
make you a much better husband."

In some way that kind of talk turned me on and I rather enjoyed it. 
It was only talk and there was no real threat to my manhood so I 
went along with it.

As time went by the drift turned from "you would be" to "you will 
be better off without them" and it seemed to me that Jane seriously 
meant for me to have my testicles out one day.

It was an odd sort of attitude from a young married woman but I put 
it down to early childhood experiences. She seldom spoke about it 
but I gathered that her father had been a bad lot . He'd left home 
when Jane was about seven  leaving Jane and her mother in penurious 
straits but they'd survived through sheer strength of character.

After our second child was borne Jane remarked that it was time I 
had my testicles out. "We've got our two children so you don't need 
them any more. The sooner you have them out the sooner you get the 
benefit." This wasn't as way out as it may seem as we'd talked 
about it a lot during our marriage and it always turned me on. The 
fact that this time she really meant it actually made it even more 
arousing for me.

By this stage she wasn't all that keen on sex. I suppose between 
her job and looking after the children and the house she didn't 
have the energy for it. If she was feeling sexy, which was seldom, 
she preferred my tongue. Afterwards she'd give me a quick hand job. 
Her whole attitude was that she was just meeting a distasteful 
obligation. Once when I really pressed her for intercourse she just 
lay there and let me perform. It felt that she was letting me use 
her vagina for masturbation. It was degrading for both of us. I 
never asked her again. It was after that I began to take her 
seriously about having them out.

"It'd be nicer for both of us when your urges are gone. Why not let 
me organise you a preliminary interview with a specialist who does 
this work."

Jane had become a very strong minded woman and moral rectitude was 
her forte. She'd always been into good works like visiting the 
aged. When she made a pronouncement on what was right or wrong I 
was inclined to take her seriously. She explained to me that 
lecherous thoughts were just as sinful as lecherous deeds and that 
she was perfectly aware of how my mind worked. "Simply looking at 
another woman with lust in your heart is both a sin before God and 
an insult to me."

A week later Jane and I were knocking on the door of one Dr. Mary 
Smith, specialist surgeon. She was an attractive older woman and 
this appointment was at her home. She led Jane and I into a 
comfortable chintzy living room where she put us at ease and 
established first name terms. Then she explained the consequences 
of the procedure. The main thing apparently was that I would 
completely lose interest in sex. Apart from that, nothing else 
would change except that I'd stop going bald and would probably 
live longer. 

According to Mary An important benefit was that without 
testosterone in the body the risk of prostate cancer is virtually 
zero. That was how she came to be in this branch of surgery. 
Orchidectomy for prostate cancer is a regular every day procedure. 
She realised that it would be a valuable preventive measure: "If 
you're going to lose them after you get cancer why not have them 
out anyway and avoid the cancer?" It made sense.

"Now as to the procedure itself, would you care to see what 
actually happens?"

She led us through to her private operating room. There was a 
raised  frame arrangement in which the patient knelt on all fours 
with his legs apart. Thus presenting his scrotum at working height  
to the surgeon who stood behind him. 

She showed us a video of what would happen. With the patient in the 
frame, settled and comfortable and strapped in for safety she would 
inject some local anaesthetic and while it was starting to work she 
attached an artificial vagina to the penis. The guy in the video 
had a mighty hard on.  The artificial vagina  ran slowly to create 
arousal but not enough to ejaculate. "I call it the milker," she 
explained. "It isn't very professional and you wouldn't get it in a 
regular hospital but I think it is nice for the patient to have one 
really good  ejaculation as his testicles come out."

The video showed her make two small incisions in the back of the 
patient's scrotum. She popped out the testicles, stretched the 
cords on which they hung and anchored them while she tied off each 
one. Then she increased the speed of the artificial vagina until 
the guy creamed. As he did so she quickly cut the stretched cords 
which immediately retracted into the scrotum. It took a further few 
minutes to suture the incisions , a wipe around and that was it. 
The guy stayed in overnight and went home the next day.

"Any questions?"

"Couldn't he try the frame?" Jane asked. "Just to get used to it,"

"Of course. It is better if he were to undress though."

It was apparent to both of them that I didn't think this was a good 
idea.

"Don't be silly darling, nothing's going to happen tonight."

I looked at the surgeon. "I promise no surgery."

"Come on darling. Get undressed."

While I dithered Dr. Mary tactfully attended to some papers on her 
desk Jane was impatient for me to undress so I did.

I was so nervous and embarrassed about the whole thing I didn't 
even have an erection as I settled into the frame. The surgeon 
adjusted it . "Is that comfortable?"

"Er yes thank you." I was only too eager to get out of the frame.

"Wait let's strap you in properly," Jane said

I was about to protest and get out as quickly as I could but I was 
distracted  when the surgeon suggested that Jane apply the milker.

To my surprise she agreed. "He usually enjoys this sort of thing. 
Come on darling, grow to size." With my prick in her one hand,  my 
balls the other and Mary watching I rapidly got a hard on. When the 
surgeon produced an artificial vagina it fitted on very nicely. By 
then I realised that I was firmly strapped in and totally helpless.

While I enjoyed the gentle stroking from the milker Jane gave my 
balls a gentle, reassuring squeeze and then stood back for the 
surgeon.

The surgeon gave a running commentary on what would be happening if 
this was for real.  "The anaesthetic's taken effect, now two 
incisions in the scrotum. Pop out the testes, tie off the cords, 
speed up the milker and wait for ejaculation. Here it comes and .. 
snip."

I squirted happily into the milker. It had been an awesome 
ejaculation and as I recovered the surgeon was saying " … just a 
few moments for the sutures and there you are. He's fixed." She 
patted my rump. "He's all yours."

Jane loosened the straps and I jumped out of the frame. I checked 
my balls which were still there. "That wasn't so bad now was it?"

"There's no pain," Dr. Mary said. "Perhaps a little soreness for a 
day or so as the tiny cuts heal but nothing to worry about."

I got dressed and reassured Jane that I was fine. She made an 
appointment for the castration a few days ahead. "I'm sure Tim will 
be sensible about this, won't you darling? It really is for the 
best."

I nodded. 

On the way back she was telling me how removing the testes would 
bring us even closer and make for a longer, happier marriage. "It 
would be true love and companionship, free from the unpleasant 
intrusion of sex."

I found myself thinking that Jane was right. Free from my base 
sexual urges we would be closer. I shuddered to think of the time 
I'd forced myself upon her and she had dutifully but unhappily 
complied. It would be a nice respectable home in which to raise the 
children.  And she wouldn't even have to give me hand jobs any more.
Without testicles I would be free from the temptation to lust after 
every pretty woman I saw. Heck and I wouldn't go bald!

It was quite late when we got in. I stayed up to make the tea, and 
put her sleeping draught in it as usual. Then I slipped in another 
for good measure.  That night as she slept I packed a suit case, 
took my credit cards, wallet and passport and drove to the airport. 
That was two years ago and I haven't seen her since or been in 
touch with her. I make sure that she gets money for the children 
without her being able to trace it.

 Meanwhile I've gone bald but my balls are still in place and 
working beautifully. I have this delightful arrangement with the 
Spanish speaking girl who comes to clean the house two days each 
week.