Part 1 - London The Break doesn’t look like much from the outside. There is black painted door set in a smart street, all grey bricks. There are blinds at the window, through which you might see the pale pink-carpeted reception room and the standard shiny business plant. It could be anywhere in London, a typical city office.   My name is Martin, but that doesn’t matter much any more. Only Lucy, the duenna of the harem, still calls me by my birth-name. I have a variety of ‘stage-names’ as we...

The next morning, I did not have time to think about the two men at all, as there was a gelding.   Maris does all the cutting herself: she says that she adores it, and that I believe. One of my less pleasant memories involved her face, spattered with blood, her hands like stained white claws grasped around my severed balls. I can’t be sure: through the stinging haze of pain I was not aware of very much, but I though I saw her lick them, and smile at me. I did not like watching geldings, but al...