The Removal

by Ewa Andersson

 

I had been kidnapped by a couple about a year ago and had been intensely trained as their new maid. It was very hard to begin with, and each step on my path of training had been a difficult one. At first just wearing dresses and skirts was a scary novelty, but now after a year I was used to that. The worst two steps, so far, had been learning to give blowjobs to my Master and to lick Master's and Mistress's assholes. They had succeeded in their training, though, because of the punishment system they had – it was always more intelligent to follow an order directly than to hesitate or even refuse. So much pain and humiliation in between and nothing gained at all – just the order repeated, and having to perform it anyway. Not even once they had missed that.

Yesterday my Mistress told that "tomorrow is going to be your big day" and then at night she secured me to my bed with a handcuff. I couldn't have left the house anyway. Believe me, I had tried, and got so severely punished every time they had found me I more and more let go of the idea itself. Being living as a woman is still, after all, much better than being dead, even if you really are a thirty-two year old man.

I didn't sleep particularly well during the night.

I was fetched my Mistress, who let me visit the bathroom and ordered me to get dressed. She had put forward a man's shirt and trousers, the underwear was still female though, a matched set of bra, suspender belt and panties in frilly red together with black seamed stockings.

When dressed she ordered me to put my hands behind my back. I did and she locked my wrists together with handcuffs. They had a fur lining and wasn't that uncomfortable. Then she ordered me to open the mouth. I anticipated what was coming – the gag, which she pulled tight and buckled behind my head.

"Complain as much as you want to – I can't hear you anyway," she mocked me.

Around my neck she put a wide dog's collar with a leash attached, yanked it twice and said, "Come!"

I was led outside to the car and put in the front seat. She attached the safety belt, put herself in the driver's seat and set forth.

The drive took about a couple of hours. I was feeling more and more nervous. For a very short moment I believed that there was a slight possibility that I would be set free. That freedom – at last – was the true meaning of "your big day", but the longer we drove the more sure I became that this idea was a stupid mistake from my part.

We neared a larger city but we took off and went for the outskirts of it and after some turning and twisting of the car we stopped outside a discrete factory or warehouse building. Mistress got out of the car, got round, opened the door, pulled the leash and said, "Come!"

Glad that we finally had arrived and that I had the time to move my feet and arms that now were pretty sore from being kept uncomfortable for so long time, but also scared, because I knew that there was something bad going to happen as well.

She pressed a doorbell and spoke quickly in the entry phone and we were let in. She proceeded quickly to another door, which she knocked and was let in. It looked like a surgery. It had a lot of medical equipment and there were three other women dressed as nurses in very tight short-skirted still strict uniforms. One of the women stayed outside while the other two, Mistress and I continued into yet another room and then I heard the door being locked behind me. This was uncanny, but had a slight proportion of arousal in it too.

A strong chain was put around my waist, pulled rather tight and then secured with a padlock. That click was ominous. The other end of the chain was attached to a sturdy bolt in the floor near the gynaecological chair that was in the centre of the room. There was even more medical equipment in this room.

Then everything went still until Mistress spoke.

"You know that you are being trained a sissy maid. You have done very well so far, and Master and I have had a great time training you. We like to see people suffer so we aren't that disappointed when you don't obey us. Now, the next important step in your training has come. You are going to loose your balls. We really must get that awful testosterone out of your system. It still makes you rebellious, and a real sissy doesn't have balls, has she?"

I couldn't answer that still being heavily gagged.

"Nod if I have your attention!"

I nodded.

"We are now going to take away some of your restraints, but if you speak where not supposed to or make any attempts at all to defy us we will take your balls anyway without any anaesthetic at all. Understand?"

I nodded, this time a bit hesitant.

"Understand?" Mistress repeated.

I nodded.

The other two nurses approached me. One unlocked the dog's collar and the gag and the other the handcuffs. Mistress just looked at me for at least a minute before continuing:

"You're not to leave this room with your balls left. Even if you by some wonder would attack and overpower us, which is extremely unlikely. The nurse outside has the key to the padlock around your waist and to the door of this room, and she is instructed to not, under any circumstances, whatsoever, open the door unless two testicles have been passed through that hatch between the rooms. The two nurses also have a stun-gun each, so just don't get any ideas - you actually don't have even the slightest chance!"

She continued to look at me. To let these facts sink in. I had to be aware of the fact that there was no possibility at all to get out of this place with my precious balls left in their original place.

"Very well then. It could be very easy just to cut the balls off, but since this is such a fine opportunity to practice real submissiveness, we can't miss this chance, can we? When I give the command 'Go' you have sixty seconds to get totally naked, place yourself on this table with your legs in the footrests and say: 'Please Mistress, can I have my unsightly balls removed so I can be a real sissy from now on?' The text can be found in large print over the gynaecological chair, should you forget it. In case you don't fulfil this we are going to strap you down and just remove the balls anyway. If you do submit and make everything as instructed we will give an anaesthetic, which will make the small operation totally free of pain. Nod if you have comprehended!"

I stood still for a short moment but understood that resistance was futile. I was also feeling arousal in my pants. I nodded.

"Go!" Mistress said.

I reached for the buttons in my shirt, pulled it up from the chain around my waist and saved some seconds by pulling it over my head. Then kicking off the shoes. Bent down for the socks. Would I be in time? Trousers. I next wriggled out of the bra, reached for the tabs of the suspender belt and undid the stockings, which I peeled and tore off. Put the hands behind my back to separate the hook and eye of the suspender belt. Just throwing it on the floor beside me. I didn't feel the coldness from the chain around my now naked belly when I tore off my frilly panties because I was so concentrated on what I was doing. I more or less jumped up in the gynaecological chair, threw my feet up in the leg rests. I was a bit sad that I had to be in such a hurry. This was a once in a life time moment, which I wanted to experience a little closer, for good or worse.

The two nurses were at my side immediately and secured my legs to the leg rests with roller buckled belts, which also were put around my hips, wrists, chest and forehead, while I read the text now clearly visible above my head: "Please Mistress, can I have my unsightly balls removed so I can be a real sissy from now on?"

Mistress smiled at me. I know I was being good.

She stepped back and one of the nurses took a syringe, which she rapidly filled with something from a vial. She pressed out the air from the syringe and stuck the needle into my left testicle. It hurt a lot. Then into the next one. More pain. After a few minutes Mistress pinched me, what seemed to be very hard in my left testicle. I didn't feel much.

"May I do it?" she asked looking at one of the nurses.

Ewa Andersson

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Ewa Andersson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.