Doris is angry at Henry's indiscretions. But meeting with Daphne she finds that women have their own way of dealing with such things. And the Angry wives club see to it that Henry's days of womenising are over...
A - H I - P Q - Z Newest Files
Angry wives club Doris Protheroe blinked, and stared across at her companion in open mouthed astonishment. "You er, what?" She finally gasped as the implications of what had been said to her began to sink in. Her younger companion, Daphne Winterson a high flying executive with Waterman and Trancer accountancy consultants, merely flicked an imaginary hair off her severe indigo business suit skirt and returned a singular glacial smile. In the ensuing silence between them, the whole foyer of the elegant Forte Travel Lodge seemed to have paused to listen. Doris doubted she'd heard correctly and fidgeted in her seat. At a conservative fifty one, she felt faintly ill at ease and frumpy in this sterile executive environment. Finally, Daphne's blue eyes softened and with a tight smile she eased Doris's torment. "Well, think of the alternatives my dear." She said starting to count off her fingers. "One, he comes back one night with an awful disease he's picked up from playing away in some unsavoury quarter." She paused, watching Doris wince as that sank in. "Two, he picks up with some big breasted floosie who persuades him that he's the greatest stud since Warren Beaty and they are simply madly in love with each other. Him with her body, and her with his money. Where would that leave you?" Again the pause. Her thin red lips took on a harsh quality. "And what about the embarrassment of him constantly groping all your female staff. What if he went too far and the police became involved?" That struck home like a poison barb, forcing an involuntary shiver from Doris. Henry had already incurred the wrath of the new Spanish housekeeper. In her throaty accent she had heatedly berated Doris. "Senora, your man he is naughty. He should be cut! I warn you, next time I go to Police. He always touch me. I remember in our village a young man like that, who goes too far and the girl's parents complain. We solved our own problems there. The men, they catch him, tie his hands behind his back and hand him over to the women. They cut him, like a stallion is cut. I hear him scream. But he no more troubles women." She waved the dish cloth in Doris's face to emphasise her point and, pouting in indignation, stormed off. But her threat of reporting Henry lay like stale tobacco smoke in the big decorous drawing room. God, Doris thought, they could never survive a scandal like that. What would Giles say? Or Felicity, in her last year at Cambridge? Suddenly, Doris became aware of Daphne still speaking. "Your Henry's a menace to you in his present form. I bet your little Poochie even hides when he appears. " The last reference to Doris's pet poodle bitch eased the growing tension between them. "How often do you have physical relations now?" Daphne rubbed it in. Doris didn't have to answer. Had she have done so, she'd probably have said something like, 'rarely'. But she ignored the unnecessary question. "But even so ." She started, her mind still churning over Daphne's words. "Even so nothing my dear." Daphne interrupted sharply, and leaned forward for her cup of steaming expresso. "The solution is in your hands. I mean, what would you do with a Tom cat who was up to those pranks?" "That's just an animal." Doris protested. "So are men my dear." Daphne sniffed, and sipped her coffee. Doris swallowed and looked about her, as though fearful of being watched. She leaned forward conspiratorially and in a barely audible whisper said. "I think it might be a good idea though. It's not as if I'm interested in that sort of thing now. But how . er." Daphne instantly relaxed. Her eyes crinkled. "Oh, heavens, just leave the details to me." She said. Doris gave a sharp intake of breath. "The police .?" She began but Daphne cut her short. "Don't be silly. Advertise to all and sundry that he's no longer a man? No longer Parliament's primary Stud? Oh no my dear. Never. And anyway, the way we do it, publicity is the last thing your Henry will want." "What do you mean?" "Oh, merely a little humiliation, along with some juicy photos. Photos that would be more than a little embarrassing in the wrong hands. Even the Daily Sun may flinch at them, but believe me, some wouldn't." Daphne glanced at her watch as though becoming bored with the whole subject. "Don't worry my dear. If it's any consolation, eunuchs live longer and the threat of prostate trouble is greatly alleviated. And the way your Henry drinks, a prostate problem is probably one of life's inevitabilities!" Doris flinched at the reference to eunuchs. But the thought was increasingly attractive. She remembered her own humiliations. The smell of other women on him, the lies, money milked from their account. Business trips with his 'secretary'. The occasional drunken slap, or more, when his mood grew ugly. The good little wife had endured it all in silence. Until now. She felt an anger surge up and found herself saying. "I'd like to be there." She swallowed not sure she believed her own words and forced her lips shut to avoid a retraction. "Of course." Daphne cooed, putting down her empty cup. And they both smiled. Henry couldn't believe his luck. The girl had almost seemed to hit on him but of course, he knew better. It was a power thing he supposed. She sensed it in him and couldn't resist the urge to bask in its reflection. He deduced it was because she'd noticed him in animated conversation with the Minister of State, obviously close colleagues. She was a looker all right. Shapely, with long coal black hair, eyes like whirlpools and a skin complexion that would shame a peach. Her legs went up to her armpits and he'd gulped at the moment she slipped off the bar stool and he'd glimpsed a flash of white above what had been stocking tops. No pantyhose there. He felt tingle of anticipation trickle down his spine. He'd practically been panting when he'd driven her back to his Georgian home on the outskirts of suburbia. Doris was out for the night visiting her mother. Rossana would be tucked up in her room on the second floor and none of the other staff lived in. "Drink?" He suggested as they slipped off their coats. She stood poised in the middle of the drawing room like a model at the end of the catwalk, her eyes taking in the luxurious splendour of the décor. "Nice." She said, meaning 'expensive'. "I'll have a malt, Macallan?" "Of course." It was also his favourite. Remarkable, he thought with pleasure and poured a finger for them both. He paused to switch on some music. Bach, an allegro from sonata no. 4, filled the room. It was suitably chic and the cheerful strains lightened his mood even further. He moved in close to hand her the glass and, with intimacy, came the heady aroma of a perfume he couldn't quite place. She was a little taller than average and they met eye to eye. Mauve, he decided. Her eyes were definitely mauve. He was conscious of staring and gulped his drink, turning quickly away to refresh his glass with a double finger. She made him nervous. That in itself, was unusual. He took another drink. "So, Anna, what is your relationship to Parliament?" He was curious, and wondered what she had been doing at the Ambassador's dinner. Her sultry eyelids lowered. "Ah, Henry. Wondering if you're about to cuckold a colleague?" Without further ado, she put down her drink, hardly touched, and reached behind her for the zip of her cocktail dress. It fell to her feet and Henry gasped. His heart drummed a tattoo and he felt the familiar stir in his groin. Rushing blood made his ears sing and rationale slipped away like a black cat in the dead of night. She was beautiful. Creamy skin wrapped in a black silk basque, stockings suspenders and high heeled shoes that emphasised the delicately muscled shape of her thighs. He could hardly speak. "You are fantastic." He croaked. She walked over to him and brushed his lips with hers. "I like my men compliant." She purred in his ear. She eased his tie away and unbuttoned his shirt to the waist. He glanced down at her ample uplifted cleavage and his tongue flicked across his lips. He was already bewitched, entranced, mesmerised. And helpless. "Shall we go . Upstairs?" She raised her eyebrows. He cast a rather comical figure, overweight even for his fifty four years, and now stripped down to his bulging Y fronts and incongruous, maroon socks. He felt an instance of foolishness and flicked off both, freeing his erection to spring to attention. "Oh, Henry." She giggled coquetishly, "We'd better hurry or we may be too late." He led the way breathlessly. And on reaching his spacious bedroom, she immediately pushed him onto the opulent bed. Simpering, he lay spread-eagled. She reached beneath the bed for four long thin twine cords. Henry was too far gone to question the serendipitous nature of their existence. She used one to secure his right hand to the bedstead . At his groggy weak protest, she put her finger to her lips and showed him how, with a quick tug, he could release himself if he so desired. Reassured, he settled back to allow her to secure his other hand and feet. She returned to the first knot, gently tightening it, and stood back. She nestled her chin in her fist, thoughtfully looking down on him. "The chicken is trussed I think." She said and reached over to an old fashioned cotton twine bell pull. "Eh? What are you doing?" Henry struggled to concentrate. He tugged on the knot, but contrary to demonstration it remained stubbornly tight. Alarmed, he wrestled with the others only to find similar. "What the fuck?" He growled, his awareness surfacing like a cold shower, bringing with it a rising concern. Anna leaned over him, stroked his forehead. "Poor little Henry." She pouted. Her finger traced a path down his chest, across his stomach to the tip of his softening penis. Her gentle touch and squeeze to the head made it twitch and harden. He started to breath heavily as excitement gripped his system. "Anna." He breathed, closing his eyes in ecstasy. She stroked him gently, teasing, allowing her breasts to sway within inches of his face. Her hair fell like a veil about her face sheltering it from the light and turning it into a blackened mask. "Tell me Henry that I am your mistress." She hissed into his ear. "What?" He panted, eyes opening. "Tell me Henry." She repeated, and gently stroked his erection. "Oh God. Oh God yes, you you are my mistress!" "And I can do anything with you?" She whispered. Her hand tickled and kneaded his testicles. She gently pinched the head of his penis, her hand cool on his rigid shaft. "Yes, yes, please, do anything with me. Anything" "Louder Henry. Tell me you're my slave." She commanded, in hushed tones into his ear. "Anything. Please do anything with me. I am your slave. I always will be." He gasped. Her scent was more intoxicating than the malt. He wanted desperately to reach out and pull her to him. To feel the softness of her lingerie pressed against him. His eyes feasted on the swell of Venus between her legs and he could only imagine the savoury delights her black briefs hid from him. Anna sighed apologetically. "Ah, but you see my little slave. We don't want a stallion. We want a gelding." She delicately pecked the tip of his nose with her lips. "Eh?" His eyes widened. Her mood abruptly changed. "Now, now Henry. Smile for the camera." She grinned coldly and rolled off the bed, her arm remaining outstretched, her hand gripping his testicles. "For Christ's sake!" He grunted looking directly into the unexpected camera mounted in the corner of the room. Anna squeezed and he yelped. "I said smile, Henry." She snapped, keeping her back to the watching lens. Henry obeyed instantly as the pain in his groin fired up to his brain. "You've been a naughty boy haven't you?" Anna teased him, easing her grip. Henry nodded vigorously. "Haven't you " Anna repeated, squeezing again. "Yes, yes. I've been naughty. Positively evil!" Henry's voice emerged as a thin wail. The door opened and a new figure entered the room. It was Daphne, in plain cream slimline slacks and tight russet roll neck sweater that emphasised the curves of her slender figure. A small leather bag hung casually from her shoulder. She stood at the end of the bed and gazed down at him contemptuously. "Oh yes, very nice. Anna, just right I think." She moved into Henry's vision and gave him a hard long look. Henry's startled gaze flicked from one to the other in confusion. Daphne tilted her head. "Henry. We are going to castrate you." She said deliberately. "Cut off your testicles. I'm being blunt about this as I do not wish you to have any misconceptions or imagine that any sort of pleading will avoid what we are about to do to you." Henry blinked, his gaze slowly turning to wide eyed horror. "But if you are co-operative, it will be easier for you." Henry made goldfish imitations, and started to speak, but Daphne cut him short. "Shhh. Don't say a thing Henry. It's all settled. Oh by the way, I invited Doris. You do remember Doris don't you? Your wife?" As though at a signal, the door opened and Doris entered, closely followed by Rossana and another woman who was carrying a small black leather briefcase. "Hello my dear." Doris said casually, as though greeting him to the breakfast table. Henry's eyes bulged and his complexion reddened as a mixture of embarrassment and anger swept through him. "What the fucking hell are you doing here!" He spat and looked wildly around at the threatening group. Doris looked suitably affronted. "Henry, mind your language!" There was a ripple of laughter. "You've heard of the first wives club? Well we're the angry wives club." She explained in wide eyed innocence. "Don't get mad, get everything? Remember?" Rossana's eyes darkened, she looked menacing in her bright crimson Spanish flared dress, displaying an acreage of exposed bosom. She stepped forward to reach between his legs, grasping his testicles tightly. "You put your hand between my legs senor How you like it eh?" She squeezed and Henry squealed in agony. She paused, then let go and stood back with a triumphant glow across her face. Daphne chewed her knuckle thoughtfully and explained, as would one to a child, exactly what they were going to do. "You see Henry." She concluded, "it is far better that you are deprived of that uncontrollable libido that is constantly getting you into trouble and damaging your relationship with Doris." She inclined her head to Doris who nodded in agreement. "Castration isn't the bogey man you think it is. For you it is a kindness. Unfortunately, you also have some reparations to make." "I'll go to the police." Henry snarled, to everyone's amusement. "Oh, I don't think so." Daphne laughed and produced a small instamatic camera from her bag. She flashed several shots of Henry in various poses with the gorgeous Anna - though with Anna's face always's obscured. Doris, smoothing down her modest fawn skirt, sat demurely on the edge of the bed. "Now, Henry." She said as though to a child. "There will also have to be one or two changes following your castration. Firstly, I will now run the house. You will ask me when you wish to go out with the boys. I will expect you to help with housework. Oh, and you'll also be taking orders from Rossana." She nodded to Rossana who grinned widely, her dark eyes full of mischief. "You may still remain at Parliament for now, but I suspect you'll not have the er, if you'll pardon the expression, balls for the longer term. However, that doesn't matter as money is hardly a consideration for us." "This is a joke isn't it?" Henry gasped hopefully. "Only on you Henry." Doris replied and the women tittered. "Susan?" Daphne, tilted her head to the fifth woman. The fifth woman, Susan, came forward and smiled at Henry. "Now girls." She said, "bring him down to the bottom of the bed." Anna and Daphne each went to the one side of the bed and slackened off the ropes to his wrists. Doris and Susan untied his ankles. Henry tensed to spring, but the flicker of hope in his eyes was instantly dashed as Rossana reached forward and seized his testicles. "Now, senor Henry. You not do anything stooopid hey?" The four women lifted and inched him to the bottom of the bed until his knees came over the edge. Susan forced his legs wide open and held them while Doris quickly strapped him at the knees and ankles to the bedstead leaving no opportunity for movement of the lower part of his body. Anna and Daphne meanwhile re-tied the bonds to his wrists. He was secure again. He squirmed anxiously and, with an elated smirk, Rossana released her hold. "Perfect." Susan said, and opened her briefcase displaying an array of surgical instruments. She looked around mid thirties and business-like in a black pencil skirt and white blouse. She extracted a syringe, held it up to the light and flicked it with her forefinger. "Now Henry, I'll just give you a small prick to deaden the nerves." She said coolly, her green eyes fixed on his own. "Don't worry Henry, I'm used to this. I can assure you that you're in good hands. You are the tenth man I've castrated." She leaned between Henry's legs and inserted the needle. Henry stiffened at the sting and his eyes watered. "Now, Doris, would you shave him?" Susan asked. "Of course." Doris went to the bathroom and returned with a dish of steaming water and a safety razor. Rossana and Daphne raised Henry, while Anna and Susan slipped a thin plastic sheet under his lower half. Then Doris soaped him and his penis began to respond to the warm suds. Rossana sneered at him. "Enjoy it while you can Senor Henry. Soon such hardness will be a thing of the past, hey." Within minutes, Henry was as smooth as a young boy. His genitals had deadened, responding to the injection, and his penis had returned to a flaccid state across his oversized stomach. Susan taped it down and reached for the scalpel. Henry whimpered as it glinted in her hand. She returned a reassuring wink. Doris moved to sit by his head and stroked his cheek. "Shush now henry, you will enjoy being my gelding. You will do what I say, when I say. You'll have no more responsibilities." She continued to reassure him, crooning into his ear and mollifying him. She occasionally glanced down as Susan efficiently cut and snipped. Henry froze, hardly budging an inch, save to give the occasional low moan. Eventually both testicles had been removed and the sutures stitched. Henry heard the faint click of Susan's briefcase as she snapped it shut. "It's over Henry. You're my gelding." Doris whispered to him and stood up. They carefully removed the plastic sheet and lowered him back onto the bed. Daphne held out a glass dish on which the severed testicles lay. "Well done Henry, you were a brave boy". She turned to Doris. "You'll want to keep these?" Doris grimaced and gave a quick shake of her head. "I'll dispose of them." Daphne said. Anna undid the cords to free Henry and he choked back a sob. A dull ache had started from his doctored groin. Susan gazed down on him. "Come, come, Henry, don't be a baby, you've only been neutered, it's not the end of the world. Your life style will improve dramatically now. Doris will need to watch your diet though, and ensure you get your exercise." She frowned at Doris and said in a matter of fact voice. "I'll leave you a health chart as you need to check on his bone count. Castrated males are vulnerable to osteoporosis. Much like ourselves once we are through the menopause. I'll call in tomorrow morning to check him out. Meanwhile, plenty of rest." She nodded a farewell, turned on her heel and left the room. "We'd best get on our way as well Doris." Said Daphne, clutching a small glass jar holding the remains of Henry's manhood. "A woman's work is never done." Anna flicked her hair back over her head. "Just a tick Daph. I've got to collect my dress from the drawing room." She said, turning to go. Henry's distraught eyes followed her superb near naked rounded rump as she flounced out of the room. Doris noticed the direction of his gaze. "Now, now Henry." She admonished with a chuckle. "Those thoughts will soon be a distant memory." She paused. "I'll have your training schedule prepared for tomorrow." Henry looked at the three remaining women in astonishment. "My what?" He muttered in alarm. But the women merely laughed at his confusion. "You'll see sweetie." Daphne replied mischievously End.