My Friend Rob Gets Cut, Part Three
STRAIGHT, TESTICLES
The final part of my first story for the eunuch archive. More gentle than most of the stories here.
` Copyright D.Reynolds `

Contact me at djrwriter@hotmail.com (this address good as of 3-21-03)

Liz wrapped one hand around Rob's doomed balls and squeezed. "Relax as much as
you can," she said to him. "We have to wait fifteen to thirty minutes before
we can cut you."

Jessica held Rob's left hand while I held his right. "Your little guys are
being murdered right now, Dear," she said with a cruel grin.

"Is that right?" I asked, looking at Liz.

"Yes," Liz replied. "The moment I clamped him I crushed his cords. There is no
fresh blood supply to his testicles so, in reality, they're being killed as we
speak. If the clamp is not removed soon, they will be permanently damaged."

Despite my concern and sympathy for my friend, I could feel myself becoming
aroused. My body temperature rose, especially in my crotch. I kissed Rob
tenderly on the forehead and cheek and told him how proud I was of his
courage.

We all had drinks and made idle chitchat while waiting for Rob's testes to get
ready. I don't remember what we talked about. I was too aware of the
sensations in my own body. I felt very warm and I was very aware of my cunt.

Soon enough we were back at the kitchen counter. I got on top of the counter
with Rob and cradled his head in my lap, while Jessica and Liz got between his
legs. Jessica held the metal bowl while Liz brandished the knife. It was
somewhat like a fillet knife, having a narrow and very sharp blade.

Liz held up the weapon so Rob could see. "I am going to cut off your balls
now," she announced. "I think both you and Danni should see this." I raised
his back so he could observe the violence Liz was about to do to him. His head
rested against my shoulder.

I watched in awe as it happened. Liz brought the blade down next to his bag
and, in one fluid motion, sliced through the pinched skin, severing scrotum
and nads. Rob gasped and his eyes rolled back in agony. He passed out. Liz
dropped the scrotum into the metal bowl, emptying its gory contents while I
stared with fascination. I had no idea how much blood there was in a guy's
sack. Jessica found some pillows while Liz went to the sink with the knife and
the bowl.

I helped Jessica place the pillows underneath her husband's head and back,
then got off the counter and we joined Liz at the sink. Liz had already washed
the knife. Together, she and Jessica rinsed the blood out of the metal bowl
and cleaned off the balls and the scrotum. Without its former residents, the
sack looked wrinkled and pathetic. To my surprise, the testes were a bluish
purple color; I had expected them to be red.

I excused myself, trusting Liz and Jessica to look after Rob. After all that I
had seen, I needed some time alone. The drive home was like an annoying erotic
daydream--I felt a dull ache in my sopping pussy the whole way and there was
nothing I could do about it but grit my teeth. Once home, I lost no time in
tearing off my clothes and climbing into bed with my favorite dildo. I
furiously fucked myself to a screaming orgasm over and over, replaying the
moment of Rob's nutting in my mind. After a half dozen climaxes (I lost count,
actually), I collapsed in exhaustion.

For the next couple of days I felt sick with guilt. My best friend had lost
his virility and I had got off to it. I talked to a psychiatrist friend of
mine about it and she brought me back to reality. She helped me see that it
was the sexuality of the castration and not Rob's suffering that I had found
so exciting. My behavior had been perfectly normal. There was no reason for me
to be ashamed.

I still see Rob on a regular basis and we still fuck when he is able to get it
up. Mostly he goes down on me. Orally pleasuring a woman is more fulfilling
for him now than ever because he no longer needs to cum. Occasionally I miss
the flavor and aroma of his semen, but I relish the new intimacy we enjoy.
We're almost like brother and sister now. Rob doesn't have any regrets; He no
longer feels bad when another man fucks his wife and he enjoys our new
relationship. And Jessica? She keeps his balls pickled in a jar in her closet,
and his scrotum has become a handsome purse.  

* * *