"This present is the most special," my wife said, handing me a small wrapped box. I took the box while she smiled and said, "I saved it for last."

She sat down next to me, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder, while I read the card. It read, "Dreams can come true -- Yours Always, Anna."

I shook the box gently, and could hear a few pieces rattling around inside. I asked, "What could it be?"

She giggled, linking her arm in mine and said, "Open it!"

I gingerly peeled it open, trying not to tear the beautiful wrapping. An unmarked plastic box slowly revealed itself to me. I raised one eyebrow, then popped open the box, careful not to let anything from outside fall out. My heart skipped a beat, then started pounding faster.

Inside I saw a scalpel, a small packet of disinfectant, a medical sewing kit for stitches, and a pair of clamps. Beside the other items was a resin-casting kit, and along the bottom lay a fine silver chain.

I was speechless. The moment of silence hung between us. Finally she whispered, "All the items you need to perform a clitorectomy, then to cast it in resin permanently and hang it on the chain as a necklace."

I didn't know what to stay. I just stared into her beautiful eyes, shocked. She blushed, looked away, then met my gaze again. She gave me a small nod, pulling her shoulders up in an adorable gesture.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's your biggest fantasy, isn't it? To have a woman give up her pleasure for you?"

"Yes, but..."

She put her finger on my lips, saying, "Shhh, it's okay. I've thought this through, and I want to give this to you. Forever."

"But you love your clit!" I burst out, "You've been masturbating two to three times per day since before you could talk!"

She shrugged, "I just turned 30. I've had half a lifetime of fun with my little button. I don't really need it anymore. I want you to have it before it's useless to me, while the gift still means something."

"But you--you're multi-orgasmic! Women would kill for a clit like yours!"

She smiled, "Doesn't that mean it's a better gift? What fun would it be to take a clit that was already frigid and dead? You told me that yourself."

"I wasn't thinking of you..."

"That's not true," she pointed out, "You asked me early on, before we were even married, if I would ever consider voluntarily having my clitoris removed. At the time I said no, but I've had a long time to think since then."

I took a deep breath, trying to stop my head from spinning, then said, "You're really serious about this aren't you?"

She turned to face me, bringing one knee up and over, straddling me. She looked me right in the face, her hair framing us as we stared into each other's eyes.

"Have you ever known me to make up my mind and not follow through?" She asked.

"Stubborn bitch," I smiled.

She smirked, then said, "My clit is yours."

"You realize you might never experience orgasm again, right?"

"I might be able to."

"But probably not."

"Probably not," she conceded, "especially since I'm so clit-centric."

"I'm not going to have any little button to play with while we fuck anymore!"

She smiled sensuously, saying, "Then you'll just have to concentrate on fucking me, won't you?" With that she leaned into me and kissed me full on the lips. We made out, passionately, heavily, like we hadn't since we were teenagers in the back of her mom's car. She ground her hips against my pelvis. My erect cock, trapped by my pants, strained to reach her crotch. I found myself wondering if she would still grind like this with no clit to grind.

My mind staggered. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. And yet my cock was so hard it hurt. I decided to roll with it--see how far this might go. I was half sure this might just be another game, a plot to turn me on more than ever before.

"When do you want to do it?" I whispered.

Wordlessly, she grabbed my hand and slid it up underneath her skirt. When I felt pubic hair I knew she was wearing no underwear. She slid my fingers down into her wet pussy, slippery and soft and inviting (with a hard little nub at the top.)

"I'm ready," she whispered back.

"Right now?" I pulled back, a little shocked, but excited. My fingers slipped around inside her drenched pussy, focusing on the pebble-like nub, hard and swollen, of her clitoris. It was impossible, I couldn't be cutting this off in a second. Not when it felt so good to touch it like this.

She groaned, thrusting into my hand, and whispered, "Take my clit... I want you to have it."

I picked up the pace of my attentions, moving my fingers in fast little circles over it just how I knew she liked. She gasped, whimpering and trying to grind against my hand. She groaned, "Yes! Take my clit off! Oh- oh- OH! Yes! Make me a clitless bitch who can't ever get off, ever, ever again! Oh! Fuck me!"

"Okay, I'll fuck you," I said, jerking my hand away from her clit just as I knew she was approaching the point of orgasm. Her pussy fluttered in loss, her whole body quivering. I said, "But not until I get this dirty little thing--" I flicked her swollen clit, causing her whole body to jerk, "off of you."

She let out a long slow sigh, her hips still gyrating slowly into the empty air as I failed to continue masturbating her, then said, "Oh, that's hot. I wonder what it will be like to fuck you without getting off?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Now lay back on the couch and spread your legs."

She twitched, her spine stiffening, and though she didn't speak, I could feel a new flood of wetness drench her pussy. Her eyes slightly glazed, she stood up. Then she jerked herself and said, "Let me grab a towel to protect the sofa."

That was new. In a game, there would be no blood, and no need to protect the sofa. I used the time to arrange all the pieces of the clitoridectomy kit carefully on the living room table, going over in my mind exactly how I would use each one... just as I had imagined a thousand times before.

Coming back from the bathroom with a towel, she asked, "Are you going to use the new camcorder I got you?"

I looked over at the other Christmas present I'd gotten from her, comprehension dawning. She laughed to see realization come over my face.

"You want to film it?" I asked.

"Hell yeah! I only get to do this once. I want a record to re-live it! Besides, I promised a girl in Switzerland I would send her the video."

"You've been talking about this with a girl in Switzerland? Who is she?"

"I've been planning this for a long time," she smiled mysteriously, "She's clitless too, so she had some advice about what I could expect afterwards. She helped me get over some of my fears."

"Why is she clitless?"

"She did it for her own fantasy, when she turned 18. She used a kit a lot like this, actually. She recommended the brand."

"Why did she do it?"

My wife shrugged, "Who can account for fantasy? Why do you like it? Speaking of which..." She shimmied out of her clothes, shedding them on the living room floor and standing illuminated, naked and beautiful, in the gentle morning sun coming in through our curtains.

She sat down on the towel on the couch and sensuously spread her legs, drawing her fingers up the inside of her thighs and giving me a perfect view of her beautiful pussy. Two long labia spread like butterfly wings as she parted her legs to their limit, and her single, proud clit stood like a defiant soldier at the top of her pussy, red and swollen and dripping with arousal.

"I've got a clit here, waiting for you. She can't wait to be yours." My wife bit her finger, giving me a look that nearly made me cream my pants.

"Just a sec, let me set up the camcorder!" I rushed to unpack the video recorder from it's box. My wife rolled her eyes and slowly masturbated to keep herself entertained while I figured out the instructions.

A few minutes later, my head stuck in the manual, I was distracted by my wife sighing loudly. She stood up, shaking her head and said, "I'm gonna make some food. I'll probably need it to help keep down the shock factor, anyway."

"Sorry! I think I almost got this thing!"

While I figured out the electronics, she made breakfast of eggs and toast. She brought me a plate, looking over my shoulder while I connected everything.

"Jeez," she said, "I should have set it all up in advance for you."

"I'm almost done," I said, scarfing down the food. When we were done eating, she cleared away the plates and washed them.

"Alright!" I said triumphantly, standing and pointing at the fully assembled, ready-to-record video camera.

"I'm proud of you honey," she said, drying the dishes, "Now are you ready to cut my clit off?"

I pulled her to me, stroking her back and buttocks, and I could feel the shiver of arousal come back into her. I asked, "Do you still want me to?"

"What I want is to cum... it's been two weeks, since my birthday..."

"You've held off cumming for that long?" I asked.

"Haven't you noticed?" she cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Actually, yeah..." I said, reviewing my memory, "It's been kind of nice. You've given me a lot of attention every time we mess around. But why?"

"I wanted to make this day special for you..."

"Thank you," I kissed her soundly, and she kissed me back. When we broke, I asked, "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

She slipped one hand between her legs to touch her bare pussy. I sensed her lift one knee slightly to get better access to her clit, and she jilled her fingers over it quickly for a few moments, almost experimentally. She gasped, saying, "Yeah, that's my clit."

She looked down, using two fingers to pull back her labia and explose the little V of her clit poking out at me. She said, "There she is. I know you want to perform a clitoridectomy. I've only got one clit, but you can have mine."

I let out a slow, shuddering sigh and touched her clit. It felt tiny and warm and delicate. I said, "I thought this was just another game..."

She kissed me tenderly, then cocked her eyebrow and said, "No games. I'm all yours. Are you ready to take me?"

"I've been waiting for this moment my whole life," I murmured. She walked back over to the couch, eying the instruments laid out on the table. Then she set herself down on the couch and spread her legs, this time fingering her nipples a bit to get herself in the

mood.

"Are you aroused enough?" I asked, kneeling between her legs. My gaze lingered on her beautiful pussy. It would never be the same after today. My cock pulsed at the thought.

She cocked her head, causing her long, dark curls to tumble over the perfect white skin of her naked breast. She said, "I'm horny, but if you want to give me a last orgasm, you might need to warm me up a bit first."

"Do you want one last orgasm?"

She cocked her head, biting her lip, and then said, "Surprise me."

I leaned in with a damp washcloth and began to clean her pussy. She gasped when the now-cold washcloth touched her hot flesh. I said, "Sorry, I should have warmed that up. While I'm doing this, do you want to tell the camera who you are and what we're doing?"

Continuing to play with her tits, my wife looked up at the camera and said, "I am Anna. I am thirty years old, and I love my clit. So it might seem strange that I've decided to have it removed. In one part, I'm doing it for my husband, who has had clitoridectomy fantasies since he was a boy. But even more than that, I'm doing it for myself. Making this choice, as a gift for him, and as a resolution for myself... it's a sacrifice, but it's empowering. It's a way of claiming my body as my own.

"I never used to have thoughts of clit removal. He confessed his fantasy to me after we'd been dating almost two years. At the time, I was half disgusted... but on some level I was also intrigued. Later that night, touching myself at home, I found myself thinking about it while I got off.

"I was in denial about it for a long time. I thought I was just thinking about it in terms of how horrible it was. But it came up in my fantasies every time. As he and I grew closer, I became more understanding of his kink. When I offered to include clitorectomy-play in our sex games, I think I surprised myself. I definitely surprised him.

"He thought, and I convinced myself, that it was for his sake. We role-played elaborate fantasies where I became his sex doll... or sex-less doll, to be used only for his pleasure.

"Maybe at first it was for his sake, but with repeated experiences of my most intense sex-play being associated with the clitorectomy fantasy... I don't know if his arousal at the thought infeccted me, or if I would have been turned on about it on my own. I do know that after a while, my most intense orgasms came while fantasizing about never having them again.

I looked up from her now clean and sterile pussy (the antiseptic gleamed like arousal on her pink flesh) and said, "I wondered... it seemed like it genuinely turned you on, but I couldn't imagine..."

She smiled, "I never told you. I think it was during this period that I started considering that I may want to actually do it some day. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I always made sure to have lots of orgasms, because I secretly suspected that someday I might not be having any more."

A wave of love and amazement came over me toward this beautiful, intelligent, self-aware woman who I had married, who was prepared to sacrifice part of her body--her clitoris--for my sake.

I lowered my hand, saying, "I don't think I can do this to you..."

"Do it!" She demanded, "I've spent 12 years preparing myself for this day. Don't you take it away from me now!"

I looked at her arched labia and the delicate bud of her clitoris, so sensitive, so vulnerable... so ready to be plucked.

"Thank you..." I whispered. And as I picked up the clamps from the table, I told her, "Keep talking."

She spread her legs further still, thrusting forward her pelvis to make her clit even easier to access. I fingered her clit, trying to get it nice and swollen so that it would stick out more. Her eyes bugged out and she said, "It feels so good..."

While she spoke, I used clamps to hold her labia aside, out of the way. She flinched a little with each one, but it wasn't until I slowly let a clamp pinch onto her clit itself that she gasped, biting her lip. She fingered her nipples forcefully now, as if trying to coax out of them the pleasure that she would soon no longer get from her cunt.

"Keep talking, honey," I reminded her.

"It was on my 25th birthday that I made up my mind. I denied myself orgasm for an entire month, and when I came, on my birthday, I realized I wanted---no... needed--to give it up for real. I gave myself until my 30th birthday, and set a goal for myself of 5000 orgasms between then and now. I haven't kept count perfectly, but I'm pretty sure I made it. For a long time it still seemed so far away. Then all of a sudden, a couple months ago, the date was almost on me. My days of cumming were almost over. I almost chickened out, but that night you surprised me with flowers and oral... I decided you were worth it."

She moaned when I pulled on the clit-clamp, which must have caused some pleasurable sensations. I stroked along her belly and brushed my fingers against the inside of her thighs, rubbing in slow, gently circles to get her warmed up. I could see the juices flowing in her pussy, but they just slipped down her buttocks, leaving her clit high and dry.

Her voice becoming thready with the tension of arousal, she continued, addressing the camera, "Now on this day, December 25th, 2010, just two weeks after my 30th birthday, I gave my husband a clitorectomy kit and the camcorder we're recording this on for Christmas, and asked him to use it on me. In just another few minutes, whenever he stops teasing me, he's going to cut off my clitoris, probably eliminating my ability to ever have another orgasm again."

As she spoke, I moved my slow massage of her flesh closer in toward her clitoris. She had always had a naturally stiff and protuberant clit when she was excited, now her hips were in a continuous state of thrusting forward in offering, making the little man in the boat stick out even more than usual. I pulled on the clamp on it, drawing it out even further, and leaned in to lick it once.

Her whole body jerked, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips. Holding her clit carefully with the clamp, I reached for the scalpel.

"Oh... it still feels so good! I don't know if he's going to make me cum again or not," my wife gasped to the camera, "He might push me to the edge... he might bring me over... or he might just end it... I don't know which I want!"

"Hold still, now," I said. Carefully positioning the scalpel against her clitoris root, I pulled the clamped clit toward me to lick around the edges of it. It took all of her willpower to hold herself still in the face of the intense sensation. I had the hood and clit both trapped in the clamp. She had always had a longish shaft that could be lightly distinguished under the hood when she was aroused, and it was against this that I pressed the blade now.

"I know I'm going to miss this," she moaned, mashing her tits so hard it looked painful, "I know I'm going to regret it. But this moment... this moment is worth it. Oh... it feels so good... All you ladies out there with a clit who are watching this, you don't know how lucky you are!"

She gasped when the cold metal touched her skin, but to her credit, she did not flinch. Her belly fluttered, but her hips, though unrestrained, held still as stone. Her clit itself, if anything, became even more inflamed. I squeezed the clamp a little bit, forcing the red glans of her clit to pop out the side. Knowing that was a spot so sensitive she could only stand to be touched there at her most aroused, I flicked it with my tongue.

Still holding perfectly still, she reacted only by letting out a thin animal cry. I began to massage the glans of her clit with my tongue, knowing how quickly this would bring her to orgasm.

"Yes!" she moaned, "Yes, baby, take my clit! All my pleasure, all my orgasms, they belong to you! Take it all! Take it away from me! Please, cut... Cut my clitoris off!" It was just like the words we had spoken in fantasy a thousand times or more. Only this time I held a live blade to her sensitive place, and had a medical kit on hand.

I looked up at my wife, hands on her naked tits, eyes clenched in pleasure, legs spread wide to offer me the node of her sexual pleasure.

Her clit was a livewire humming under my tongue. I knew her well enough to know the tell-tale signs of orgasm. The fluttering of her stomach, the clenching of her buttocks. She would get there any second now. I positioned my hand on the scalpel, ready to strike, deciding how long to give her.

Just as her voice mounted into a crescendo of pleasure, her willpower finally giving way and her hips pressing up off the couch in pleasure, I struck. I yanked on the clamp to jerk out as much clit flesh as I could, causing her to yelp. Then I slashed with the scalpel, making the irreversible cut.

Her body froze. She made no sound except a long, almost silent hiss of indrawn breath. Then I could see the shudders of orgasm go through her. I quickly slipped two fingers into her vagina to give her something to clench on, knowing how much she likes that when she comes. Seven or eight contractions rippled through her, causing her vagina to grip my fingers harder than I ever felt before. But she was completely soundless through it all.

It occurred to me this would likely be the last time I ever felt my wife's orgasm, and I felt a clear thread of sadness amidst the arousal. I looked at the now-dead clit, resting severed on the towel between her legs, intimate flesh which until so recently had been throbbing with vitality and quivering with pleasure.

The last of the contractions ceased and she slowly sank back onto the couch, the force of orgasm and pleasure finally letting her relax--permanently, now.

"I wish I'd caught those contractions on my cock instead of my fingers. It'll probably be the last time you ever grip like that," I said, gently withdrawing my fingers from the slowly-releasing hold of her cunt. She didn't respond.

A surprisingly small trickle of blood was coming from the wound where her clit used to be. I went to work quickly, sanitizing the area again and stitching up the wound. She didn't flinch, even as I pushed the needle through her flesh to stitch her closed. I could feel the pressure of the spongy flesh of what was left of her clit beneath the surface, but I didn't worry about getting it out. She would be fine with the root left to play with. It'd make it more fun for both of us.

"Thank you..." my wife finally gasped, stirring as I finished cleaning and bandaging the wound.

I put a hand on her leg, asking, "Does it hurt?"

She pulled herself up a little bit, looking at the wad of gauze covering the spot where her clit used to be. She shook her head, "No. It didn't hurt at all. Just a pinch, like... But there wasn't the pleasure of a normal orgasm either. I didn't feel almost anything except, like... the pinch and then nothing. Just the contractions... jesus... clenching my whole body.

"Is it gone?" She asked, trying to pull herself to her senses.

I nodded, and picked up the sad little morsel from between her legs. I handed it to her, dropping it into her outstretched palm.

She sat up, examining it with detached curiousity. She poked at it, rolling it over to examine it from different sides. She said, "Is that it? It's so small."

"Yeah, that's it," I said.

"It doesn't feel like this. It felt... big and powerful. Like something inside me, indefeatable. But it looks like I may have defeated it, for better or worse."

She held it dangling from a thread of skin in a position that looked vaguely similar to something recognizeable as a clit. She held it up to the camera and said, "There's my clit!"

Then she shook her head and said, "I don't think it's mine anymore. It's for you, my love. Forever."

She looked into my eyes and held out the little, pink thing that used to be her clit. I accepted her gift, closing my fingers around the small piece, and said, "Thank you, my love. I will make it into a necklace using the kit you gave me, and keep it for the rest of my life."

"You better!"

I leaned in to kiss her. She kissed me back, but tired. When we broke, she glanced down at the tent in my pants and said, "Need some help?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" I stripped my pants off and stood before her with a raging erection. She sat all the way up and took it into her mouth with expert skill, going down on me without mercy or regret. She stroked her tits as she went down on me, obviously turned on, herself. At one point she started to reach down across her belly to her pussy, but her fingers touched the bandage and jerked away as though they had reached something hot.

Seeing that, I felt my balls growing tight. Her lips and tongue felt divine, and as I sensed my impending orgasm, I tried to comprehend that she would likely never feel this sensation again--and she had given it up for me.

She felt my orgasm building too, and as I reached the brink she took it as deep in her mouth as she could and bit down suggestively, looking up at me with a wink.

I came in her mouth.

She clenched down firmly as my cock leaped in her mouth, shooting spurt after spurt of thick, rich semen down her throat.

When it was done, she let it out with one long, sensual lick. Red teeth marks shone whole and healthy near the base. She licked a bit off her fingers, looked up at me, and said, "Maybe someday you'll let me have yours!"

She snapped her teeth playfully, and we both laughed, then tumbled onto the couch together.