#1 Posted: 28 Mar 2010 11:07
I came home to find my wife in bed with another man. What could be worse? I
was about to find out.
From Husband to Castrated Sissy
by Kimmie Holland
“Oh my god!”
My wife looked up over the muscular shoulder of the huge black guy nailing
her on our bed. Her long tanned legs wrapped around v-shaped torso. “Hi
honey. What are you doing home early?”
“Kelli what the fuck’s going on here?!”
At that, the black guy turned and shot me a nasty glance. “What’s it look
like we doing, genius? I’m dicking your old lady. Now get out of here
fuckshit I ain’t finished.”
“Better go downstairs dear,” Kelli said, smiling. “I’ll be down later to
Of course I was shocked, but what else could I do? I went downstairs
poured myself a drink and then another. I was already half plastered by
the time she came down. She was wrapped in her bathrobe. Behind her was
the black guy wrapped in mine.
“Kelli,” I stood up too quickly. The room swayed. I sat back down with a
plop, nearly missing the couch entirely. I wiped my nose with the back of
my hand and sniffed hard. It was no use trying to disguise the fact that
I’d been crying. “What is the meaning of this?”
“It’s simple Kenny,” my wife said. “Carlos and I are lovers.”
“How long…” I choked up.
“Is that really important?”
“How long?” I demanded, starting to feel angry.
“A year and a half.”
“A year and a half!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My wife was
fucking another man for a year and a half and I hadn’t suspected a thing!
“Why? Why Kelli, don’t you love me?”
The black guy rolled his eyes and muttered something about me being a
lameshit faggot but I ignored him for the time being. I’d get to him
later. He poured himself a drink and made himself comfortable in my easy
chair. He turned on the TV.
“Kelli, I want an answer!”
“Oh Kenny, what do you expect me to say? Of course, I love you. You’re
like…I don’t know, my best friend or something.”
“Your best friend?! Kelli, I’m your husband! Your lover!”
“No more asswipe,” Carlos said from the easy chair. He’d pushed it back,
his feet up.
“Tell him to leave,” I demanded of my wife. “Tell him you want him to go.
“I can’t do that, sweetie,” my wife said.
“Because I don’t want him to leave.”
Carlos chucked at that. “She don’t want me to leave, you hear that
“Well I’m telling you. Get out. Get out now, you son of a bitch!” I
shrieked. I was practically hysterical.
“Just shut the fuck up,” the black man said, sounding almost bored.
“You’re ruining my good mood.
I started towards the man in my chair, dressed in my robe, who’d just had
his cock in my wife.
Kelli laid a hand on my arm. “Honey, don’t.”
“Like hell I won’t.”
The black man sighed, put his drink down on the table, and calmly pushed
the chair down to get to his feet.
Behind me, I heard Kelli say, “Be careful Carlos. Don’t hurt him too
I’d like to think I could blame the booze I’d drunk, but the fact is even
if I’d been cold sober and he’d been drunk, I don’t think the results
would have been any different. He was huge and strong, and it couldn’t
have taken any more than one blow, although I don’t even clearly remember
that. What I do remember is that he slapped me upside the head with his
open palm and it was all over for me. My knees buckled and I crumpled to
the floor in a heap. Carlos sat back down in the easy chair, picked up his
drink, and continued watching television. Kelli was kneeling beside me,
asking me something, but I couldn’t hear her voice. Everything sounded
like I was underwater. Then I passed out.
* * *
When I came to, Kelli was still kneeling next to me, but I was no longer
in the living room. I was in the basement lying on one of the beach lounge
chairs that we put out on the deck in the summer. My wife was undoing my
pants and pulling them down. She had already removed my shoes and socks. I
was still pretty groggy so it took me a while to realize that my shirt had
also been removed. I was naked from the waist up and my arms were raised
over my head, my wrists tied to the bar running along the top of the
chair. By the time I managed to make sense of what was going on, Kelli had
tied my ankles to the bottom of the lounge chair.
“I really wish you hadn’t provoked Carlos like that. But I guess it would
have come to this anyway.”
“What are you talking about? Kelli what’s going on? What’s happening?”
I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but it was impossible. The
sympathetic look on Kelli’s face scared me more than anything else.
“It won’t be so bad once it’s over. You’ll see. It’ll help you adjust
“What things? Kelli talk to me, please.”
“Your attitude honey. It’s too bad you had that little outburst. Carlos
wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Kelli, I don’t understand.”
My wife gave me a little kiss on the forehead. “You will sweetie. Soon.”
Then, to my surprise, she began to attach a small bullet vibrator to my
penis with a few elastic bands, and turned the control onto high. She
giggled when, in spite of myself, I became almost erect.
I felt myself blush because just then Carlos came down the cellar stairs
and stood over the chair where I was lying.
“Is the bitch ready?”
“All ready,” my wife said, standing.
The black man sneered when he saw my erection. “Is that it? That’s all
there is to him,” he laughed.
My humiliation deepened, but I’d learned my lesson. I wasn’t about to
antagonize Carlos any further, especially not as helpless and exposed as I
“Fraid so,” Kelli grinned. “Not very big is he?”
I couldn’t believe what was happening to me, nor could I stop it. The
vibrator attached to my cock was having its predictable effect. I strained
against the plastic ties binding my wrists and ankles. It was no use
resisting. I gasped as my cock spurted onto my belly.
“And not much lasting power either,” my wife concluded, shaking her head
“Well we’ll be fixing that problem.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but my mind was still cloudy,
not just from the beating I’d taken, but now also from the vibrator, which
continued to buzz away, and had already begun to revive my spent cock. The
black man squatted down on one side of the lounge chair and my wife on the
other side. While Kelli held my balls up in her soft palm, Carlos slipped
a small leather noose over the sac, right at the base of my cock shaft.
Was this some sort of kinky sex game? Were they going to try to prevent me
from cumming? Between the vibrator and Kelli’s hand, but also the black
man’s manipulation with the leather noose, I was half-erect.
“Wait,” I gasped, “that’s…ugh…that’s too tight.”
“Not yet it aint, princess,” Carlos laughed.
He had pulled the leather lasso closed so tightly that it already looked
like my balls were detached from my body. They looked like a couple of
bright pink plums ready to burst.
I groaned as the breath went out of me and felt nauseous.
“What…what are you doing?” I cried, when I was able to catch my breath. I
was panicking, and not even trying to control it this time.
“Sshh,” my wife said, smoothing my hair back like a mother comforting a
child. “Enjoy it. While you can.”
#2 Posted: 28 Mar 2010 11:07
Before they turned off the light and left me there, my wife and her lover
stood by the side of the chair where I lay and looked down at my
quivering, bound body. Unbelievably, I was shivering to another orgasm,
but this one much weaker than the first, and with hardly any expulsion of
cum. My tied off balls were already aching.
“How long,” Kelli asked.
“By tomorrow morning,” Carlos said. “It’ll already be way too late.”
I saw a wicked gleam in Kelli’s eyes I’d never seen before. She was
looking down at me as she kissed her lover deep and full on the mouth, his
hands exploring her ass. It was then I knew that she wasn’t the least bit
regretful of what her boyfriend was doing to me. That, just the opposite,
she wanted it as much, if not more, than he did.
* * *
I guess I hardly need explain that it was the worst night of my life. My
wife was upstairs fucking another man in our bed while I lay in the
basement waiting for my balls to die. Because now I understood that’s what
they had planned for me. I struggled against my bondage but it was no use.
I was too weak, too exhausted, too defeated. I lay back on the lounge
chair and tried to concentrate on the pleasurable feelings the vibrator
was still milking from my cock and to ignore the fatal throbbing of the
tight ligature that was strangling the life from my testicles.
I came again, but so weakly it hardly resembled an orgasm at all, just a
spreading tickling-itching warmth deep inside my tummy. If I spurted at
all, it was little more than a few tiny clear droplets.
By now, I’d even stopped crying. It was time to face the facts. I had lost
my woman to a superior male and nothing could change that. Kelli preferred
Carlos and his big cock. I was expendable. The only hope I had to stay
with her was to find some innocuous role in her and her new man’s life.
So I was relatively calm when Kelli came down to check on me sometime in
the middle of the night. I was touched that she’d thought of me. She
checked my testicles and gave me a long knowing glance. But this time it
wasn’t wicked, but full of tenderness and sympathy.
I knew what she’d seen. The last time I dared to look between my legs I
saw that my tied off scrotum had turned an alarming and unnatural muddy
“They’ve already begun to die,” Kelli said, matter-of-factly. “There’s no
going back now.”
I felt one last tear roll down the side of my face.
She lifted my head and gave me a few sips of water. Then she explained how
things would be from now on. She knew I still loved her and she admitted
she still had tender feelings for me, too. She just didn’t feel sexual to
me anymore, and hadn’t for a long time. She had talked Carlos into letting
me live with them but I had to know my place. I was to be, more or less,
their servant, but, of course, I’d always be free to go if that’s what I
chose. They wouldn’t keep me against my will. She didn’t think I’d cause
any trouble, since she doubted that I’d want everyone to know I wasn’t a
man anymore, but even if I did, she and Carlos would swear that I’d
castrated myself in despair when I discovered she was leaving me for
another man. Then again, she added pointedly, if I made too much of a
nuisance of myself, Carlos could always simply revert to his original
plan, which had been to make me disappear. Permanently.
“But I really don’t think that will be necessary, will it sweetie?”
“No,” I whispered, stunned at how close I’d come to ending up a murder
Kelli smiled, patted my head, and ask if she could get me anything else
before she went back to bed. I asked her for a blanket. It was cold in the
cellar and, besides being naked, I found losing my balls and Kelli’s
recent revelations to be particularly. She pulled out an old quilt stored
on a shelf in the pantry and covered me. Then she bid me a good night and
returned to her lover’s arms, leaving me to mourn the death of my manhood
By morning, Carlos examined my ball sac, stood up, and with a
self-satisfied smirk announced that it was done: I was officially a
eunuch. Kelli said, “Congratulations honey,” and that was that.
I was given instructions not to try to remove the leather cord from my
blackened testicles so as to avoid infection; instead, the dead flesh that
my balls had become would dry up and fall off by themselves, “like a pair
of rotten grapes,” Kelli laughed. And that’s just what happened. At first,
the smell was pretty bad and I was the butt of a lot of Carlos’s jokes.
Kelli had me use her perfume to scent the panties I now wore all the time
and that helped. Eventually, though, the flesh dried up and no longer
smelled and sort of began flaking away. One night I took off my panties
and found the remains of what used to be my scrotum and testicles at the
I’d had a while to get used to the idea of being a feminized eunuch by
then. I felt a little down, but what was done was done. I took like a lot
easier now. As the saying goes, I just didn’t sweat the small stuff
* * *
Three years later and Kelli and I are still together. We’re still married,
at last legally, but naturally I don’t have any conjugal rights any more.
I don’t miss the sex so much as I miss the intimacy I used to share with
my beautiful wife. Nowadays I’ll often do her hair or nails, usually at
the salon where I now work part time, but the closest I come to real
physical intimacy is when I’m occasionally asked to give her a totally
platonic massage. I took a short course in therapeutic massage since
Carlos enjoys a relaxing massage at the end of the day.
Carlos moved into the house shortly after I was castrated. Needless to
say, he shares Kelli’s bed. I’ve made up a small room in what used to be a
storage area under the stairs. There are no windows but I’ve decorated it
bright and cozy.
Along with the massage course, I also took enough cosmetology courses to
do some hairstyling at the salon. Between my part-time work at the salon
and my full-time job as a homemaker for Kelli and Carlos, I’m kept pretty
much on my painted toes.
Yes, I keep my toes polished, as well as my fingers. My body is always
waxed smooth and while I can’t quite be mistaken for a girl, my personal
appearance makes it quite obvious that I’ve been feminized. With each
change, Kelli assured me that Carlos would lose a little more of the
hostility he still had for me even as a former male. And I was happy to
discover that my wife was right. As I started adopting more and more
feminine traits, Carlos stopped seeing me even as a former male, and more
like the subordinate femme sissy that I’ve become. The latest change—a
pair of 36-inch breast implants—were the most successful. Now Carlos no
longer even refers to me as “he” and “him.” It’s strictly “she,” “her,” or
what has become my girl name, “Kimmie.” Sometimes, when Kelli is having
her period or just isn’t feeling well or not into it, Carlos will have me
kneel down and blow him. I’ve gotten to be pretty good at it and I have to
admit it does give me a nice sexy feeling to have him shoot his huge load
into my mouth and to swallow the same hot cum that he shoots into my
As for my sex life, that’s pretty much it. I don’t have a lot of desires
in that department, which I guess is pretty lucky since I don’t have much
means of satisfying them. Mr. Richard, that’s the owner of the salon where
I work, has taken a liking to me and we’ve gone on a few dates over the
last three months. I’ve gone down on him, too, and he’s even taken me in
what he calls my boi-pussy. That actually feels the best of all now that
I’m stretched out and it no longer hurts. Mr. Richard is gay so he likes
me in-between girl and boy and doesn’t want Kelli and Carlos to have my
penis removed. He likes to play around with it while he’s fucking me in
the boi-pussy, even though I cant really get hard anymore or cum, even
with the testosterone pills he sometimes feeds me.
Well, luckily for him, Kelli and Carlos don’t want my clittie removed
either. Not now, anyway. They say they like it to be a reminder of my
status as a neutered femme sissy. So everyone is happy with the way things
are, even me, I guess. I don’t think about it too much anymore. I’ve
gotten used to my life the way it is. I find it almost impossible to
imagine what it was like before.