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“Castratrix Quarterly: Who’s Getting Neutered?” by Cait B

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“Drop Your Drawers!”, a femdom castration fantasy

He got a referral for a lady surgeon to correct a minor problem.

When he showed up for the appointment he was ushered into a small exam room by the surgeon’s assistant, a brisk and willowy young brunette with olive skin and curly hair pulled back in a ponytail.

She says, “OK, drop you drawers,” and tells him to get on the exam chair.

He stammers, “But, my problem isn’t…,” but he meekly does what he’s told.

When he gets on the exam chair he automatically closes his legs out of modesty.

She grabs his knees and pulls them apart saying, “Spread ’em! You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.”

He spreads his legs all the way until they’re pressed back flat onto the chair. He blushes in embarrassment at having his private parts so shamefully exposed to a strange woman.

He stammers, “But, but why do, do I…?”

She calmly replies, “The doctor’s going to want to talk to you about castration.”

“Castration?”, he says with a frightened bleat, “Why does she…”

Suddenly, the lady surgeon comes in. She’s a solid, attractive brunette of forty wearing jeans and a blouse.

She goes over to him and instantly starts manhandling his genitals, inspecting them closely, pulling, squeezing, stretching.

He notices she’s not wearing gloves. She tells him she needs the close, tactile skin-on-skin contact.

She shifts her focus to his scrotum and its contents, gently squeezing and rolling his testicles.

She announces, “Yes, perfect. I want to take these.”

Then she bluntly asks him, “Have you ever considered castration?”

He replies, “No, no, of course not.”

She asks coyly, “Not even as a fantasy?”

He replies, “Well, yes, as a matter of fact I have, but I don’t see…”

She announces, “Good. Then let’s begin.”

He squeaks, “But, wait!”

“Castration’s not that bad,” she says soothingly. “Just relax and enjoy it.”

He squirms and moans, “Nooooooooo”.

She scoffs, “What a little slut he is! Look how he squirms.” Then she grabs his cock and says, “And just look how hard his cock is. He obviously wants it.”

He jumps when she grabs his cock. He hadn’t even been aware of his own arousal because everything was moving so fast.

Feeling her grip on his erection pushes him over the edge and with an anguished moan he starts spraying semen all over his chest and belly. She helps finish him off with a few slow, smooth strokes. “That should help him relax.”

The assistant hands her some paper towels to wipe the semen off her hands.

The assistant asks, “Should we clean him up?”

The surgeon replies, “No, it’s not in our way. Leave it for later.” Then she says, “Give me the local numbing pump.”

He feels powerless to resist. It’s as if she has taken complete ownership of his genitals. He has unwittingly entered into her domain where her will is law. It’s her exam room, her assistant, her skills, her years of experience, her tools. It has reduced him to a helpless lump of quivering flesh completely at the mercy of her skillful hands.

The assistant stands to one side as the surgeon begins and says, “I always love watching you do this.” The surgeon just grins.

He realizes she was right. He floats on a warm, dreamy cloud of pleasure as she performs the task.

Then he hears the sound of two liquid plops followed by the snap of a plastic lid that reverberates with finality.

The surgeon gets up, washes her hands and says, “Clean him up and send him on his way,” and then quickly leaves.

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