” I don’t know why so many men come to me to be gelded” said the attractive young female orchiectomy specialist.
For most surgeons doing orchiectomies is a just a job. But not for a certain lady. She loved her work, she loved neutering men and was very aggressive about finding men to do it to. She liked doing it when they were under local anesthetic so she could talk dirty about it, about how she’s neutering them, taking their manhood, making an incision so she can get at their family jewels, etc.
Female aggression has always turned me on to much.
Some thoughts on what would be required.
Castration would have to be the focus.
The cat-like domme would have to be hunting a mousey sub-male with the intent to trap and castrate him.
The Mousey sub-male would have to be aware of such predatory dommes and what they intend to do if they catch him and which he wishes very much to avoid.
The domme would begin by catching the sub-male and then get ready to castrate when he would ‘accidently’ be allowed to escape at the last minute. Of course the escape would have been planned by the domme so that the sub-male would quickly fall into another trap. The threatened-castration/escape/recapture cycle would be repeated with the sub-male becoming increasingly frantic.
Two possible endings: 1) the sub-male becomes exhausted and realizes that castration is really what’s best for him and he gratefully submits, or 2) the domme tires of the game and could care less how he feels about it and just castrates him. Another variation would be for the domme to promise the sub-male that if he can escape one more time she will let him go but then just as he thinks he has finally escaped her clutches she traps and castrates him.
She holds his severed scrotum and testicles aloft in triumph grinning ear to ear and laughing a full, deep-throated laugh.
He cries piteously in his squeaky little mousey voice as the domme’s assistants work to stop the bleeding and close the wound.
And here’s a little idea in this vein I came up with a while ago that I called “Cat & Mouse”:
I’ve always been attracted to weak sissies. I knew when I met Georgie that I wanted to be his mommy and dominate him completely and take his manhood.
I didn’t waste any time. I humiliated him on our first date by making him admit he was a sissy and that he liked to masturbate a lot. Then I made him take it out and do it while I watched. When he disgraced himself and made his little cummy I knew I had him.
Sissies are very shy. If you can get them to perform their most private sexual function in front of you then they are yours to dominate and control.
I subscribe to “Sissy Care” magazine. They have many excellent articles on how to dominated your sissy and use him for your enjoyment. I’ve always taken a special interest in their articles about eunuch sissies. A eunuch sissy is the ultimate sissy. They exist solely to please their mommies and they are so much quieter and easier to manage. And taking a sissy’s manhood is the ultimate act of domination and ownership.
[ I realize there isn’t any really anything that cat-and-mousey about the above verbiage. Sorry. I guess it was just wishful thinking on my part. ]
Had a fantasy about a line-up of six teen boys to be chosen for castration. Lots of teen boys in the area are eager to be castrated so six are chosen every week for the line-up. Only one of the six boys will be chosen. The line-up is put on by the local castration clinic, all-female staff of course. The boys sit naked on chairs in a well-lit room behind a sound-proof glass wall. The chief surgical castratrix and her two assistants stand on the other side of the glass wall in a darkened room viewing the boys. The boys all have erections. On a given signal the boys know that they have to start showing how much they want to be castrated by masturbating with great devotion and eagerness for the women they know are watching. They know they should display their tight little scrotal sacs as prominently as possible to show that their balls are totally ripe and ready for the picking, so to speak. Actual orgasm and ejaculation is prohibited, however, as messy and unnecessary. If a boy cums during the line-up he is banned from ever participating again. After 15 minutes the chief castratrix makes her choice and the boy is instructed to come into the inner rooms of the clinic to receive his well-earned reward. A record is kept of the boys so that they may not be allowed to participate more often then every six months.
A special gift for your lady love: your testicles.
Reminds me of the story of the rich guy that couldn’t seem to please his wife so for their anniversary he gave her one of his testicles, bronzed, or some such. When she opened the present and realized what it was she smiled and thanked him and said she wanted the same present next year.
A pretty young nurse named Jill took me to the changing room and helped me undress.
“You’re seeing Dr. Ashley today, right?” asked Jill.
“Yes”, I replied.
“You know who she is, right? What she does, what her specialty is?”
“Yes, castration. She castrates.”
“That’s right, but we also like to call it orchiectomy.”
Later, I was lying on the exam table completely covered by green cloth except for my groin area. Nurse Jill stood at my side.
I heard a door open and someone come in.
Nurse Jill greeted Dr. Ashley. “He’s all ready for you, doctor. He knows he is here to have his testicles removed, he is ready to be castrated.”
“Good,” replied Dr. Ashley as she approached the table. She then addressed me, “You should know that after I am done with you today you will no longer be male. You will be a neuter, a eunuch.”
She sat on a chair between my legs. “We will start by making a small incision in the center of the scrotum.”
A couple minutes later she said, “There, we can now get into the scrotal sac. I am going to squeeze the left testicle out of the incision.”
She went on to describe each step as she ligated the cords, then cut the cords, then sewed up the incision and applied a little surgical glue.
When she finished she got up and congratulated me on now being a eunuch.
A little while later, Jill helped me back into my clothes.
“How do you feel?” she asked mischievously. “Do you feel any different now that you have been castrated?”
She didn’t really expect an answer. She then went on to say that she looked forward to seeing me again when I came back in two weeks for my follow-up appointment.
[ Warning: This story contains a castration table upon which crying “ist verboten, mein liebchen”! ]
Dr. Ashley is a confident, warm and gracious young woman and soon puts me at my ease. We have a lovely supper together at a nice restaurant and then agree to meet again the next morning.
On the next morning she gives me a tour of her clinic and introduces me to some of her co-workers and colleagues and some of them give me knowing nods and winks.
We then part and agree to meet again later in the early evening. She takes me to her modest little private office suite located in a boring little professional office park. She leads me into the exam room in the back and turns on the lights.
“This is where I do it,” she says brightly. She draws me attention to her tools laid out neatly on a small table beside the exam table (AKA THE CASTRATION TABLE!!!) She does a little-show-and-tell picking up each tool in turn. The scalpel itself is still in its sterile paper wrapper. She removes her coat, takes out a pair of disposable latex gloves from a drawer and turns to look at me while she calmly proceeds to pull them on.
“Ok, why don’t you slip off your pants?” she says.
I knew this was coming but I still can’t handle it. I choke and gasp and stammer, trying to find the right words to cope. She just quietly stands gazing at me, waiting. My face flushes hot, I can’t look at her, instead I lower my eyes and start fumbling with undoing my pants.
Soon I am properly disrobed. As I climb onto the table she laughs quietly and says, “I knew you would want to see my tools.”
I cry and whimper like a little slut as she works on me. She replies firmly, telling me to relax, it’s OK and she describes and explains each step as she carries it out.
I come back a week later for my follow-up. I thank her for helping fulfill a lifelong dream.
Every year on the anniversary of my castration I send her a little gift and she responds with a little thank-you card. Otherwise I have not attempted to keep in contact.
Looking back now I can’t help thinking about who she might be castrating today.
Dr. Ashley had seen some of my blog posts about her and reached out to me by leaving her email in a comment. Of course I eagerly responded and we soon became well-acquainted.
It was obvious how much I wanted to meet her in person but I knew I would have to be patient and leave it up to her to make the first move. When she finally did mention the possibility I jumped at the chance. But I also had some fears and misgivings I needed to express. I knew it was kind of rude but I had to ask her right out that if I did travel to her clinic would she try to castrate me.
I could tell she was a little irritated but she was also very gracious and understood that my feelings were completely natural in the circumstances.
She said that the great majority of the castrations she did were purely professional and done to complete strangers she never knew before or after. But she also said that she had done a few to men she had been in a D&S relationship with. But they had all been completely consensual. She went to say that for her own part she did feel a strong desire to do these castrations but that the desire only grew in her in response to these men’s strong and deep yearning for it. In other words, she never secretly planned, or schemed or seduced a man to submit to it and she never had to work on overcoming any reluctance because all reluctance was always totally absent.
And in my case she said that she had never met a man that seemed to yearn more for castration than I did and that that had brought out the answering desire in her. And finally, she said that she thought we should just keep an open mind and just wait and see if anything develops. And, she added, she knew that being able to castrate such a prominent and well-know fetishist as myself would certainly give her a special added thrill.
We both laughed and I agreed to let the matter drop and do as she advised. We then went on to fix a firm date and I proceeded to book an Airbnb near her clinic.
[ story idea ]
Joanne and Jim: she’s an attractive mature lady and he’s a fresh-faced young man. They sit in her sunny living room on a warm summer day. This is the 3rd time Jim has gotten together with Joanne for D&S sex play. They had met on an online kink site.
Joanne knew as soon as she saw him that he was a classic closet eunuch. She understood him better than he understood himself and it took his breath away.
She was totally confident and casual, he was nervous and shy. This was his first D&S relationship experience. She had been a domme for many years and had dominated many males.
He listened in rapt attention while she gave an overview of the domme-sub world he was about to enter.
At the extreme end of the D&S kink spectrum was castration. When dommes routinely brought it up subs were always shocked and fascinated. It was something they had felt in the depths of their fantasy life, their need to make this ultimate sacrifice to the female gender but had never come close to being able to consciously articulate it.
Joanne smiled and spoke of castration in such a warm, casual manner, it sent chills up his spine and caused his cock to surge. She noticed his excitement and smiled again.
She explained that it was the mark of a true submissive that they possessed a fundmental yearning for emasculation.
He left her home that day delirious, walking on a cloud and feeling that he was finally being allowed to be who he truly was.
Subsquently, she introduced him to some of the other dommes in her social circle. They all shared their subs and took turns mentoring and guiding them in their development toward becoming a eunuch until they were deemed ready and then one of the ladies would agree to sponsor the sub and arrange for their special transition procedure. People outside the kink scene were generally mistaken in thinking that this was a strictly one-on-one thing, that it was one male submitting to one domme in a kind of analogue to a heterosexual romantic relationship.
Joanne spoke very casually and offhand about eunuchs and how much she enjoyed helping a sub attain his emasculated destiny.
She described the little social get-togethers the dommes had that always included a few eunuchs. Knowing that all the men present were castrated always heightened the enjoyment of the dommes.
Later, she introduced Jim to a lady surgeon friend that performed orchiectomies for their social circle. The surgeon was an ardent dominant as well.
“We’re not cruel or sadistic,” Joanne explained, “but we do have some standard expectations. If a sub has been been with us for two years and hasn’t progressed far enough to have the snip then he is requested to leave us. But this has never happened, we choose our subs well and no sub has lasted more than a year.”