[Lucas and Elvert have been magically transformed into horses to pull Cinderella’s carriage.]
Lucas and Elvert stood stamping in their traces, for the first time smelling with all the keenness of an animal’s sense the luscious scent of a pretty young woman’s moist excitement. Their huge penises dangled hose-like and nearly dragged the ground in a helpless response to the sweet and pungent odor of Rachel’s slit. Lucas neighed and tossed his head, raising his nostrils into the air to catch more of the scent that drove him mad. Both horses neighed their mute and helpless torment.
Rachel turned her head and squirmed, then she giggled–the delighted sound of her merriment, soft and low, mingling with the intimate noises of their coupling. Her flashing eyes were fixed on the huge penises of Lucas and Elvert while her cheeks flushed with lascivious glee. “You nasty things! How indecent your dangling penises are. How indecent indeed! I shall have you smartly whipped for this rude affront to morality!”
Lucas and Elvert now well understood the torment of the slaves Circe transformed from men into animals in Homeric legend. To grovel, helpless and speechless, newly dull-witted at the feet of the laughing Goddess and her lewd, impudent maids, was torment enough. Yet even that subjugation was terribly compounded by the fact that their keen animal senses could smell every luscious scent from the intimate parts of their giggling feminine tormentors, a smell to drive them mad and tease them with what they could never hope to have.
Below the formal garden, viewing the opposite side of Victoria’s carriage stood two Prumm footmen in the gold and lavender livery that Godilieva favored for her servants.
Two pretty royals maids–on their way to check with a wine steward as to the whereabouts of a fine old vintage, ideal for the celebration–paused agreeably to masturbate the Prumm footmen with but scant persuasion and set themselves readily to their task. In a trice, the maids freed the two throbbing pricks and set about rapidly skinning them up and down in their lewd bare hands. As the footmen gasped and strained, eyes clenching shut in furtive pleasure, one maid caught sight of Lucas’ and Elvert’s dangling pricks. She laughed and nudged her companion with her free hand.
“Look there! See those big horses harnessed to that lovely huge carriage of silver and glass? They must wish that they were getting a little of this themselves!”
Both pretty young women giggle between exclamations of amused outrage at the carnal sight of animal excitement–even as they masturbated the now-panting Prumm footmen with their wicked hands. As the footmen leaned into the briskly rubbing hands of the smirking maids, and as their sperm splashed from their organs to glisten on the stone pavement–their masturbatrices indignantly agreed that the offending beasts should be gelded.
Here is another formative milestone for my castration fetish.
The age of 12 was a very eventful one with respect to formative sexual experiences. I was maturing rapidly. I had gained my full height and puberty was in full swing.
A Meek Wolf Among Savage Lambs
My other older sister had just gotten married and I went for an overnight visit. They had a book at their apartment that was published by Playboy magazine called “Ribald Tales”. This was an anthology of short erotic pieces taken from various, sometimes obscure, classical literature sources. One of them blew my little mind. It was the first fantasy that crystalized my femdom castration fetish.
The story was “A Meek Wolf Among Savage Lambs” by Edouard Roditi. I believe it has a fairly modern setting, turn-of-the-20th-century Turkey. I give the link for the whole story below, but here’s a summary.
A writer disguises himself as a woman in order to infiltrate a Turkish harem in order to write a spicy magazine article about harems. His gender is discovered and the harem ladies order him to be castrated in order to preserve their honor.
Here’s the link: A Meek Wolf.
Those Poor Oxen
Also at this time my crazy older sister took a few moments to explain castration to me. Mostly she focused on the castration of domestic animals. For some reason her description of the lives of oxen captured my fancy. She described them as, “those poor oxen”, castrated and then harnessed up for a lifetime of hard work and drudgery. It wasn’t just the castration that appealed to me but the lifetime of humiliation and degradation. And the pathetic, shameful public spectacle of it.
I have a vivid memory of a climax I had while at summer camp that year. I can’t go into too much detail but I remember talking out loud and saying things like, “it’s a shame what they do to those poor oxen”.
I had an older brother that was a bit of a black sheep. He had just got slapped with a paternity suit by a lower-class bimbo he was unwise enough to spend a little time with. I think this was the main motivation for my crazy older sister to buy me a subscription to Playboy in order to help me develop a healthy solo outlet so I’d be less tempted by… unsuitable partners.
Nuts, huh? And where were my parents? Their permissive attitude went way over into neglect, in retrospect.
Anyway, this was the beginning of another related fetish, masturbation humiliation, i.e., being relegated and side-lined in that respect.
Another aspect of this was that I was bewildered at why I didn’t find the photos or other erotica in these magazines to be arousing. I began to realize I wasn’t normal. I’ve always been primarily heterosexual. The problem was the power dynamic was wrong. And I have always found photographs to be cold, washed out and unengaging. I much prefer hand-drawn art.
I remember hearing at this time my mother describing how she first learned what the euphemism, “having a dog fixed”, meant. She was quite amused when she learned what it meant, that it meant surgically treating a dog for the owner’s benefit, not the dog’s. Ever since, this usage of ‘fixed” has had fetishistic power for me.
The James Bond movies starring Sean Connery were very popular at this time and I wanted to be cool and manly too so I read all the novels (didn’t really enjoy them, though).
In, “You Only Live Twice”, there is a description of a technique used by male geishas in Japan for temporarily forcing their testicles back up into their abdomen. This riveted my attention. I remember trying to describe this to my mom while we were alone together in a car, her driving and me in the passenger seat. I got all flustered and stammered and she just shrugged it off.
The Beatles were becoming very popular at this time and I developed a mild crush on John Lennon. This was the first step in my lifelong attraction to effeminate young men and androgynous women.
by: Anonymous Writer
Synopsis: Tim has been sneaking into his next door neighbor’s apartment to try on her lingerie. Madge and Tim’s foster mother catch him in the act. Tim is punished and all is forgotten until he does it again. This time Tim is turned over to Madge who has made special plans. Since he won’t stay out of lady’s lingerie, she is going to make absolutely sure Tim gets everything he can imagine and a lot more!
I heard the sound of traffic and awoke to see Madge driving into an underground garage. We were in the city now! She parked the car and then both ladies led me groggily to an underground elevator. We took the car up to the 30th floor and exited, then proceeded down the corridor and entered an office door. The sign on the door said “Dr. Christine Lovelli–Gynecologist!”
I began to come around and squirm as we entered the doctor’s office. I began to sob “Plea… please Madge, I’ll be good! I’ll do what ever you say from now and on, I promise. Please!” I gasped as Madge handed me off to a nurse. “Don’t worry dear, You won’t be hurt.” she said. “And you’ll see it’s all for the best.” She finished as the nurse led me out of the reception room then led me away to a changing room down the hall. The nurse took off my car coat and scarf and hung them up, then set my purse and shoes aside and returned and after taking my belt off, started unbuttoning the front of my dress. She soon had all my clothes off then handed me a hospital gown.
I tried to make an escape but soon another nurse arrived wheeling a gurney! Together, they overpowered me, tied me quickly into the hospital gown then forced me onto the cold metal table and strapped my wrists and arms down with wide fleece lined leather straps so I couldn’t move! They even strapped my chest down and my forehead to the table so I couldn’t move or raise my head! I began sobbing as they wheeled me into what looked like an examination room. Once they had me in the center of the room one of the nurses retracted the wheels of the cart and adjusted the overhead bank of lights. The other nurse wheeled over an IV bottle hanging from a rolling stand then swabbed me and inserted the needle into my arm. She started the drip and I began to feel tired! It wasn’t putting me out though, instead it was just a powerful relaxant.
Then I felt another nurse put an oxygen mask over my face for just a moment to calm my excited breathing. Then the female gynecologist and surgeon, Dr. Christine Lovelii entered the room carrying a file folder, already dressed in a surgical outfit complete with cloth shoe covers and a surgical cap. She spoke as she looked over the file that I soon learned had been put together on me.
“Marissa Du Bois… I see we’re in for a castration today!” she said as she read the file. “It says here that your aunt Madge would like you awake for the procedure, and, she wants you to watch as well! A little unusual, but, I think we can handle that…” the doctor finished as she pointed to a large mirror off to the side and then set my file folder on the surgical table. The nurse wheeled the large mirror over and adjusted it. “We use this mirror so women can see themselves deliver. It’s never been used in quite this way before but it should do nicely!” The doctor said as she continued.
Several trays with surgical instruments were wheeled into place then the lights came on! I began to fidget nervously as the nurses put stirrups into the slots at the bottom of the gurney and then I felt my covers being pulled away and my hospital gown being pulled up.
They then raised my shaved legs with painted toe nails and strapped them securely into the stirrups, splaying my legs and hips wide! The doctor took a chair, sat down and moved in. She pulled up her mask and tied the white ties then reached for a pair of rubber gloves as she continued to examine my file.
Soon finished reviewing my case, she nodded for the nurse to take away the folder. She continued pulling on her gloves, smiling faintly at me through her mask. I felt embarrassed lying there surrounded by women, my legs high in the air and splayed wide, my genitalia dangling there for everyone to see.
She worked her fingers into the tight rubber gloves and stretched both of them down tight past her wrists then let them go with a loud “snap.” “I guess I’ll never understand why some boys just can’t resist putting on ladies clothing and lingerie” she said with a sigh as she then put on a pair of glasses and after adjusting them wheeled up on her chair and started her cursory examination.
“Just relax now sweetie, it’ll be over before you know it,” she said as she began. I then felt her cold fingers examining and fiddling with my testicles and my penis! Both the doctor and her attending nurse saw my little mound of blonde pubic hair trimmed close into the little heart- shape, then the doctor held my penis down and pointed her latex covered index finger at the tattooed little pink satin bow.
They both smiled and chuckled slightly as they saw the tattooed inscription in quotation marks that Madge had put there. In dark black ink below the ribboned bow there was the humiliating declaration: “sweet little sissy cross-dresser!!” I became embarrassed, I could feel my face flush beet red. “Madge may want to have that inscription changed, because this little ‘cross dresser’ is about to be cured!” Dr. Lovelli said with a giggle.
She then resumed her professional demeanor and went back to work.
I began to mumble and cry out, but soon the nurse nearest me took a large wad of surgical gauze and folded it, then stuffed my mouth full! She then took a roll of sturdy white surgical tape and pulled out a couple foot-long lengths then taped my mouth tightly shut. She then adjusted the gurney and tilted my head up so I could see everything! Dr. Lovelli continued by stretching and taping my penis securely up towards my belly button then swabbed the entire genital area with a brownish colored mercurochrome! With my penis out of the way my testicles now hung vulnerable in their little scrotum. My mind began to race. This was more than an examination!
I shut my eyes tightly and tried to turn my head refusing to watch what they were about to do to me. But, the nurse nearest me simply took two more little pieces of the white surgical tape and after forcing my eyelids open, taped the top lids up high, securing the tape to my forehead! Two more pieces of tape were added to the bottom and soon my lower lids were forced wide as well!
Dr. Lovelli then began. “Nurse, hand me a syringe, 10 cc’s lydicaine please.” I started breathing heavily again as my bulging eyes stared into the mirror. “We’ll have you numbed up in no time dear” she said as she took the syringe from the nurse and squirted the plunger to get all of the air out of it. She then carefully held the syringe with needle at the ready, then rolling in closer on her stool, she began.
I felt the “stick” of the needle as she moved it around my genital and scrotal area. I tried wiggling my hips to say away from the needle but soon I was completely numb. I started to squirm again but this time Dr. Lovelli simply stopped long enough for the nurses to take my legs down and roll me onto my side. One of the nurses then handed the doctor a large syringe filled with a yellowish fluid. I then felt her feeling for an injection site on my lower spine then felt the cold gauze as she swabbed alcohol over the area she chose. I could only grunt and grimace as I felt the large and painful needle enter my lower back! Then I felt the pressure as the liquid started flowing in. In an instant I was paralyzed from the waist down!
My flopping legs were now useless! Soon they had me on my back and adjusted me on the table once again, my legs were again spread wide and securely strapped back in place. I fought with my arms but they were strapped down at the wrists and up past my elbows. The chest and forehead strap aided in keeping me firmly down as well!
I couldn’t move or feel anything below my waist. The straps they reattached to hold my legs in the stirrups were just there to keep them from falling out. Now with my legs back up and my hips pulled back into position on the table splayed wide and unmoving, and with my little ball sack hanging totally vulnerable, the doctor continued by giving my balls a little slap! Normally, I would have jumped and winced in pain but now I felt nothing! “There, that’s much better! Nice and still now!” she said.
She sat down once again, picked up a scalpel and wheeled her chair in. I tried to wrench my head free of the strap as I flailed from side to side gasping and crying into the gag. The women seemed to enjoy my predicament as they chuckled at my plight.
The nurse at the head of the table increased the IV drip making me even more limp and groggy. She then sat down and held my head firmly once again to keep me from moving, making sure I would see every detail of the doctor’s work. As I whimpered my muffled, feeble, squealing cries into rounded and taped cheeks puffed full of air, I struggled to free myself once again, but by now, it was no use, I was forced to continue watching everything!!
Linda stood in the reception room in front of a decorative mirror on the wall that sat over a feminine fashioned table. She studied herself as she held a little compact and a lipstick. She fluffed her hair a bit, then took the shine off her nose with a dusting of powder. She then took her lipstick and rolled it into place then carefully and quickly added a pale red color. She then took a Kleenex from her purse and dabbed the lipstick and after pursing her lips and checking her look once more she then moved back around the reception room looking the office over. Madge casually glanced at Linda and then at the clock on the wall then adjusted herself in her seat crossing her feminine, attractive nyloned legs with a zip. She smoothed her skirt down before continuing with the women’s magazine she was reading.
With furrowed brow and panicked and bulging eyes taped wide open and glaring, I was forced to watch my own castration! I screamed into the gag out of pure humiliated horror instead of pain. No one paid me any attention as the doctor took her scalpel in hand and moved in! I started to hyperventilate as she centered the scalpel and then made the first long incision down the center length of my scrotum!
I was now gasping and breathless, fighting to get free as I laid there on the cold table. The doctor put her scalpel aside then took an irrigation bulb and washed out the large central incision and the inside of my scrotum. After drying and wiping me off she inserted her gloved fingers into the folds of skin. I felt no pain, but was horrified to watch as she continued. As the nurse held my face firm and with my taped eyes bulging, I was forced to watch the whole horrifying procedure in the reflection!
I gasped and gagged a whimpering cry as I saw the doctor pop out one of my testicles and then the other. She carefully tugged and pulled at them until they dangled free and then attached clamps to the tubes running to them. She began taking clamps and strips of surgical tape handed to her by the assistant nurse and began clamping the scrotal skin open wide taping the metal hemostats to my thighs and lower abdomen! The nurse then held some type of retractor as the doctor inserted her fingers and took another instrument and clamped onto one of the testicle tubes.
She then took a scalpel and began on my left testicle by carefully cutting away the supporting tissue until the nearly white little testicle gleamed naked in the bright light. I screamed a muffled scream into my gag fighting to turn my head from side to side in disbelieving protest but the nurse at the head of the table only held me tighter, her hands tight against the sides of my face forcing me to watch! The surgical nurse handed the doctor a scissors, then I watched the doctor continue as she began to snip away at the little blood vessels that fed it. Soon the left testicle was dangling nearly three inches lower than the right one!
She then took a separating device and worked it into my lower abdomen and then gave a couple short “clips” then eased back on her chair as she took away the severed testicle and dropped it with a “thunk” into a little gauze layered silver tray that sat on the surgical stand!!
My mind reeled! It screamed at me in white-hot, blinding terror at what was happening to me! Then I realized that Madge had followed her every intention. She had kept her word and was now proceeding with her threat. This was really happening! I was being surgically castrated!!
My struggles and muffled cries were useless as I continued to watch terrified as the doctor casually but with well practiced hand then concentrated on my last remaining testicle! As the nurse held my head tight, I was forced to look on with bulging, unblinking eyes as the supporting tissue was clipped away, and then one by one watched as the little blood vessels were severed.
My head began to swim, my grunting, sobbing whimpers continued as the testicle dropped lower and lower as the doctor continued.
I could feel my masculinity slipping away with each sound of the clicking hemostats and scissors. After the nurse held the retractor for the final time Dr. Christine Lovelli then probed deep inside with her instrument. Two or three more “clips” and it was all over! I watched tearfully as she leaned back in her chair and held the last remaining testicle up. She smiled at me through her face mask as she cradled it in her hand, then turned and dropped it into the tray with a dull thud.
The nurse holding me giggled slightly as she finally released me then took off the tape holding my eyes wide. As the other staff women worked I could hear them chuckle and giggle quietly as well; but I wasn’t any trouble! After being forced to watch my testicles being removed I could only lay back in shock, tears streaming down my face as I glubbed and whimpered into the gag.
Dr. Lovelli then made an over all inspection and then removed the clamps. Then taking a curved needle and surgical thread she carefully gathered the edges of the scrotal skin and began sewing up my now empty sack. She continued stitch after stitch sewing me up until my sack was nothing more than an empty puckered nub of skin! Soon she trimmed the excess thread then sat back to admire her work. “There Marissa sweetie…That wasn’t so bad now was it? You’ll heal up in no time.” she said as she smiled at me again from under her mask and began removing the rubber gloves with a “snap.”
She tossed the gloves onto the surgical tray with the used surgical gauze, the used syringes and scalpels, the suture thread and the needle and the little tray containing my testicles. The nurse picked up the gauze that lined the little silver tray, and set the tiny bundle of testicles on a paper cloth. She set the metal tray aside with the other used surgical instruments then quickly collected everything up. I watched as she gathered the refuse that contained my testicles then tossed the whole bundle into the trash container!
Dr. Lovelli then tossed her surgical clothes into a type of laundry hamper then took my file to go consult with Madge and to tell her everything went well. “Give him a booster of five cc’s estrogen would you? She mentioned to the nurse. “Now that his testicles have been removed he’ll continue developing as a woman but at a much faster pace than before. We might as well get the little sweetie started right so he’ll look his feminine best!”
She smiled, then took my file and left the operating room. I watched teary eyed as the nurse at the head of my table took a bottle labeled “Estrogen” and loaded a syringe with the measured dose. She then pulled up my gown and swabbed my right upper thigh. I watched as she sank the dripping needle into my right hip and still being anesthetized felt nothing as she squeezed the plunger forcing more of the female hormones into my system. When she was finished with my estrogen injection, the surgical nurse then handed her another large syringe. As the first nurse continued cleaning up and putting things away the other nurse inject the solution into the IV tube. Soon, the room went black as I was put out!
Here’s the link. It’s got a great castration scene. Enjoy!
Here is another formative milestone for my castration fetish.
The next one came when I around 9 years old.
There was an episode of the Sunday Disney show called, “Almost Angels”, about the Vienna Boy’s Choir. I watched the show with my parents and some of my siblings, in particular, an older sister who was to have a great impact on my sexual development.
This sister was about 10 years older than myself and was unusually bossy and over-bearing. She always liked to show off how smart she was. Later in life she was diagnosed as bi-polar.
She must have learned somewhere about the castrati singers that existed in the history of Europe and thought that was a funny and cute fact. So when this TV show came on she wanted to show off this special knowledge so she asked out loud, “Are they castrated? Have they been castrated?” She asked a couple times and had to shushed by my mother.
Her keen, devilish interest in this gruesome practice made a deep and lasting impression on me. It gave the word ‘castrate’ itself an almost magical power in my mind. A true “fetish” in that sense. And I don’t think I even knew what castration meant at that time.
And since I have 2 older sisters, I will refer to this one as “my crazy older sister”.
Spy vs. Spy
Another more solitary experience from this time came from seeing a “Spy vs. Spy” comic strip in “Mad Magazine”. This comic strip was about two spies, one white, one black, that were always scheming against each other.
This particular strip had one of the spies tending a hotdog stand. I somehow misread the plot to be that one of the spies had tricked the other into losing his penis by having it put on display in the hotdog stand. I found this mysteriously arousing. This incident also showed a how trickery and deceit could amplify my arousal.
Another incidental side-light was a black-and-white WWII movie on TV I happened to be watching all alone one afternoon. I’m not sure how old I was. I could have been 11 or 12.
I really hadn’t been paying much attention to the movie but when it came to the end it had some nurses playing a trick on a US soldier/sailor (pretty sure it was a sailor) they had in their care. They put an ointment under some bandages on his back that caused an unpleasant burning sensation. They laughed at his discomfort and when he asked for relief they ripped off his bandages with a quick yank, which caused additional distress and made them laugh even more.
I got up and walked out of the TV room in a daze, stunned by what I had seen. Trickery, mild sadism and abuse of trust were the arousing factors.
I’ve never found out what the movie was, but I haven’t searched very hard either.
Having a castration fetish is a mixed blessing. It provides intense pleasure as well as great frustration since it can never be really experienced. On balance it’s really an affliction.
It’s not my only fetish. It comprises the strongest member of a small constellation of female domination fetishes.
I trace my own development of this fetish from an early age. I’d like to share the milestones of this with the readers of this blog.
Although I didn’t explicitly realize I had this fetish until I was 12 years old there were some significant milestones prior to this.
Here is the first milestone.
I suffered a severe trauma to my right hip and leg when I was 2 and a half years old and had to spend months in traction in a pediatric ward. Fortunately, I lived near a superlative hospital and they were able to help me recover so that I was only left with a pronounced limp and poor circulation in the affected leg.
Suffering a childhood trauma is a common early experience for people with this fetish. I learned this from a survey that some psychologists did a few years ago of the people that frequent the Eunuch Archive site. It’s common but not universal.
Psychologically, the after effects were more severe. It left me feeling emotionally cold and cut off from others. I grew to be a timid, passive person.
Sexually, I’m sure the inactivity and boredom of being in traction caused my sexual feelings to grow into a larger focus and component of my life than it would have otherwise.
It is also obvious that my medical fetish and my fetish for women (i.e., nurses) doing things to me grew out of this formative experience.
Bottom line is, this experience really side-lined me for life.