A Virgin Forever

preeunuch:

I met Julie at a party given by a mutual friend. I was captivated from the moment I saw her, as were many of the other men there as well, I’m sure. Julie is a brunette with flowing hair that extends past her shoulders, an hour glass figure, and exquisitely long legs that were sheathed in black stockings. At 5’9", she’s tall for a woman, and on the night I met her, she was wearing heels. Although for much of the party I had been admiring her legs and figure from afar as she talked and flirted with the other guests. I hadn’t been able to muster the courage to talk to her. Talking to women has always been a problem for me. I never had anything clever to say, and I didn’t know how to be aggressive without turning girls off. Yes, I was the ultimate shy, wimpy, nice guy. Since my first date in high school, you could count the number of dates I had been on among your fingers. Needless to say, I had never had a serious girlfriend and at twenty-eight, I was still a virgin.

You can imagine my shock therefore when someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to find myself staring into Julie’s chest, which her low-cut dress provocatively exposed. She towered over my 5’6" frame and when she spoke I had to look up at her.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Julie. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No,” I managed to stammer. “Mine’s Eric.”

We stood and talked for several minutes before sitting together on a couch, where we continued our conversation. I found Julie very easy to talk with. She took control of the conversation and effortlessly kept it going. I had never had such a good conversation with a woman before. I learned that she had just completed all of her medical training and was now a surgeon at one of the city’s hospitals. I told her about my job too, assistant manager at a book store paled in comparison to her career, but Julie was so sweet about it and asked me intelligent questions about the book trade.

A couple other guys came over to talk and before long I was completely nudged out of the conversation. I left to drink another beer, relishing the memory of Julie. I didn’t speak to Julie again until the end of the party. As I was about to leave she rushed over to me and asked for my phone number. Somehow, despite my shock, I managed to remember it and not make a total fool of myself.

Julie called me a few days later and we started dating. Two years later, Julie suggested that we get married. We never did have sex while we were dating, we made out often though, and on several occasions I sucked on her breasts and massaged her pussy. I’ve always been very self-conscious about my penis and was afraid to let her see it. I have a very small penis, just under four inches when erect and only around two inches flaccid. I could masturbate using my index finger alone.

When I asked Julie why she would want to marry someone like me, she said rather candidly that she enjoyed being in control in our relationship. She had to deal with a lot of egotistical jerks at work and my simpering adoration was a welcome change. Before our wedding, I explained to Julie that I was still a virgin. She wasn’t surprised and assured me that her experience would be enough for both of us.

Our wedding night was a sexual disaster. Julie looked like a dream as she reclined on our bed in her white teddy with her soft breasts begging to be set free. My little prick grew to its full three and three-quarter inches. As I stood next to the bed, I lowered my briefs and for the first time, exposed my penis to Julie.

“It’s so small,” she said with obvious surprise. “I’ve never seen one this small. Is that really all the bigger it gets?”

“Yes,” I stammered. “I told you it wasn’t very big.”

“And your balls aren’t much bigger either?”

Julie reached out and felt it between her fingers. The sensation of finally having a woman touching my penis was overwhelming and I immediately ejaculated into her hand.

“And sensitive too,” she said with a giggle.

Julie got up to wash off her hand so I laid down on the bed. My dick had now shrunk to its flaccid length of about two inches. Julie was completely naked when she emerged from the bathroom.

“Well stud,” said Julie as she approached the bed. “Are you and pee-wee ready for a good time?”

I wasn’t sure if she was laughing at me or just being affectionate, but ever since that night she has referred to my penis as pee-wee. We rolled around the bed for quite awhile kissing and groping one another. Julie has a very sexy ass and firm breasts with very sensitive nipples. She loves to have her breasts massaged and I apparently do a good job of it. When pee-wee became hard again, Julie rolled onto her back, spread her legs, and motioned for me to mount her. I had no idea what I was doing and couldn’t figure out how to enter her. Julie reached down to help guide me in but once again the moment she touched my penis, it spasmed and ejaculated. I tried several more times that evening with an equal lack of success. We even tried it with Julie on top, but nothing we did seemed to make any difference as I always came or worse yet grew soft just before entry. We finally gave up, deciding I was just nervous and that things would work out better the next evening.

Things however did not work out better the next evening or for the following one. Julie was very cool about the whole situation. I was fearful she would leave me, and who would blame her? But apart from my sexual failures, we had a wonderful time together and I doubt anyone would have thought our marriage anything other than normal.

After returning from our honeymoon, we settled into the routine of our daily lives. Since Julie made so much as a doctor, she talked me into quitting my job and staying home to look after decorating the house we had recently purchased and all the other daily homemaker chores. “I have such a hectic and chaotic schedule,” she explained. “I won’t have time to take care of our new house. You saw what a mess my apartment was. Besides, when we have a chance to spend some quality time together. I don’t want you to spoil it by having to go to work.” I had to agree that her arguments made sense. Julie was not at all much of a homemaker (I often helped her clean her apartment when we were dating) and I didn’t like my job that much anyway.

Our sexual frustrations continued. One night while we were in lying together in bed six and a half sexless months after our wedding, Julie for the first time became openly angry about my little problem. “Something has got change Eric. We can not go on like this forever. I haven’t had sex in over a year and I can’t stand it anymore. I’m horny Eric.”

I quickly did the math. We’d been together for 2 and a half years and she hadn’t had sex in a year? “You had sex with someone else while we were going out? How could you?”

“Oh Eric. I ran into an old boyfriend from college. We only got together a couple times until I told him we had to stop since I was getting serious with you.”

“I can’t believe you would do that. You’re not the person I thought you were.”

“We weren’t having sex Eric. I have needs you know.”

I held my head in my hands on the verge of tears. “It’s all ruined,” I wined. “How could you sleep with someone else.”

“At least he has a real dick and knows how to use it.”

Her words cut to the marrow. All I could do was look at her with quivering lips.

“I’m sorry Eric. I didn’t mean that. I love you. I really do.”

When she reached for me I jerked away, grabbed my pillow and headed downstairs to the couch. She called after me but I kept going. The next day we barely spoke. I think I told her her coffee was ready and she said thank you. The silence continued for several hours after she got home. She confronted me when I was pulling down the sheets (the couch just wasn’t very comfortable). “Eric,” she said. “Perhaps we should get a divorce.”

“But Julie I love you. I’m not that mad. I’ll get over it.”

“I know darling and I love you too. But I don’t see a solution to our problem.”

“I’ll get better,” I insisted. “We’ll do it eventually.”

“Even if you could I don’t know what good it would do. Your pee-wee’s so small I probably wouldn’t be able to feel it. It’s practically useless.”

I didn’t have a response, but deep down I know she was right. All my fears were about to come true. She was going to leave me and I would never find anyone else like her.

“I’ve been thinking about taking a lover. I was going to ask you about it but I can see by your reaction to my confession last night that you wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Could we stay together if you got sex from someone else? You wouldn’t leave me?” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. What kind of a sissy was I? Allowing other men to fuck my lovely wife because I wasn’t man enough to do her myself?

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” I didn’t want to say yes but knew I had to if I wanted to keep Julie.

Julie still wasn’t convinced that I was ready for this and suggested that we both think it over some more. We discussed it several more times over the next two weeks, with me assuring her that it would be okay and she assuring me that she would always love me, but she needed some sex. A week later Julie called from the hospital to say that she would be late, there was an emergency. I wasn’t surprised. This had happened numerous times before.

Julie arrived home about six hours later. Her hair was a mess but her face was absolutely glowing. I was sitting in the living room as she approached. “I assume you’ve guessed,” she began. “There wasn’t an emergency surgery. I’ve been with another man.” She looked me in the eyes, waiting for my reaction.

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it good?”

“It was incredible,” she cooed. “Absolutely incredible. I’ve never been so thoroughly ravished. Are you jealous?”

“A bit, but I guess I’ll get over it.”

“Oh honey, I love you so much.” Julie sat on my lap and hugged me. “I can’t believe how wonderful and understanding you are.”

>From that day on, Julie started getting it at least twice a week. She managed to acquire two lovers, both single doctors with whom she worked. At first Julie would simply call me to say that she would be late, then head off with her lover to his place for what Julie described as awesome sex. Eventually, however, she started going out on full-fledged dates, even having them pick her up at our house and bring her back the next morning. I would lay in bed at night, fondling my little penis and imagining her with her lover, dancing then going back to his place to be reamed by his manly cock.

Although I got a vicarious thrill from Julie’s escapades, the idea of sharing her was eating away at me. I became angry easily. Yelled at Julie for no reason and even tried to foil one of her dates by following Julie and her lover in our car. Fortunately I never caught up with them and lost them in the traffic.

“I can’t go on like this,” I told Julie.

“And I can’t go back to not having sex.”

“But it’s been over a month since we last tried. Maybe I’ll be able to do it now.”

“Oh Eric. Even if you could it wouldn’t matter. You’re so small, so tiny. I probably wouldn’t even be able to feel you.”

“So what should we do? And don’t say we should get a divorce. I never want to leave you, but at the same time I can’t stand you having sex with these other men.”

Julie was silent for a few moments. “I have an idea. I don’t think you’ll like it, but let’s sit down and discuss it.” We nestled together on the couch and Julie crossed her nylon clad legs so that her skirt road up her thigh.

“I believe,” she began, “that your sex drive is at the base of our problem. You want to have sex with me, but your equipment is faulty, practically useless. Your frustration makes you angry, and further, it makes you jealous of the men who are able to please me in a way that you can’t. Am I right?”

“Well, yes, but what are we going to do about it?”

“I’m getting to that. The first step is agreeing on what the problem is. Now, if we could somehow lower your sex drive, much of your frustration and anger would dissipate, maybe even disappear completely.”

I nodded. What she was saying was making sense.

“I was wondering what you thought about being gelded.”

“What?!”

“Castrated. If we had your testicles removed you wouldn’t have all that testosterone flowing through you and your sex drive would diminish. You would be less angry as well. More docile.”

“You would do that to me?”

“Yes, I really don’t see any other alternative.”

After some more discussion, I agreed to think about it. I knew Julie had the surgical skills to perform the operation, but this would be permanent, and I hadn’t had sex yet.

A few days later, we discussed it again. Julie assured me that many men are still able to get erections after being castrated. “This will just reduced your sex drive,” she said, “not completely destroy it.”

I let Julie make all the arrangements. Since this was more or less an out-patient procedure, she said we could use the facilities at her office rather than the hospital, and on a Sunday, no one would be there. Julie arranged for a short vacation. On the night before, Julie was very attentive to me and jerked me off several times. “Okay Mr. pee-wee, this is your last time to shoot sperm,” she teased me. For some reason, I was beginning to find the thought of being castrated arousing and my little penis performed better than ever. We even took another try at having sex. I guess I hoped I might actually do it with her. Maybe then she wouldn’t need to geld me. I failed both times. “This really will be for the best,” Julie concluded.

Before leaving for her office the next morning, Julie used a depilatory to remove the hair from around my pubic region. I felt so soft and smooth when she had finished and the thought of what was about to happen gave me another embarrassing hard-on. “Looks like someone’s excited,” Julie commented.

With me in the passenger seat, as was usually the case, Julie drove us to her office. Inside, we proceeded directly to the small operating/examining room. Julie told me to strip and lie on the table while she made the final preparations. The table was icy at first, but eventually warmed next to my skin. Julie returned wearing a surgical smock and wheeling a small cart. Among the items on the cart, I noticed a syringe, several scalpels, a coil of plastic tubing, and a jar. Julie held up the jar. “For posterity,” she said with a giggle. I was beginning to get a little worried about her attitude, but maybe she was just trying to calm me with some humor.

Julie told me to spread my legs and then secured my feet in the stirrups. Next she secured my hands to the head of table, then secured my abdomen to the table with a wide band that passed over my navel. I was now tied down, with my knees in the air and legs spread wide. My genitals at her mercy and I was completely unable to move.

“I don’t want you jerking around she said.”

“I thought there wouldn’t be any pain?”

“There won’t be.” Julie then got to work. She first doused my groin, thighs, and lower abdomen with some type of disinfectant. She then gave me several injections. My penis and balls began to go numb. “It will all be over soon,” she said as she fingered my penis with her gloved hands. When she was convinced that I could no longer feel anything, she taped my penis away from my testicles and reached for a scalpel.

I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side. Occasionally, I felt her arms brush against my legs as she worked. “There’s one,” I heard her say. “And there’s two.”

“Want to take a look?” I opened my eyes to find Julie standing beside me holding a jar containing my two little testicles. “These weren’t very big either,” she said. I was speechless. Julie giggled then headed back down to between my legs. “I was wondering,” she said. “If I should go ahead and remove your penis too while we’re at it.”

“Why?! You said you were just castrating me.”

“It’s so small Eric. And without your testicles it’s going to shrink. In a year it will be completely useless. Besides, now that you don’t have any testicles, you won’t have much of a sex drive and you won’t even care about masturbating.”

“No, Julie.”

“Julie looked at me, then my penis, which she held between her fingers, then back at me. She smiled wickedly. “I truly believe it will be for the best Eric.”

Julie began inserting the plastic tube I had noticed earlier into my pee hole. She had planned this all along. I felt betrayed, angry. But as I was tied down, there was nothing I could do. Eventually I felt the catheter enter my bladder. I closed my eyes tightly, but couldn’t resist wanting to see what she was doing. I saw her put a clamp at the base of my penis. I saw start to cut, and then I saw her slide my penis off the catheter. She placed it in the jar with my testicles. “There now,” she said. “As soon as all this heals, you’ll be as smooth as a girl. You’ll have to learn to pee sitting down,” she said.

I didn’t respond. I guess she knew I was angry, because she didn’t talk anymore. It took her some time to finish whatever she had to do and bandage me. I thought about my new condition. I was now a complete eunuch. I would never have sex. I would be a virgin forever.

When she was done, Julie helped me up and got me into a wheelchair. She took me out to the car and put me to bed in the guest room when we got home. She also gave me some more injections for pain and to help me sleep. I pretty much stayed in bed for several days. Julie was very sweet in taking care of me and told me I was healing nicely. After a week, she removed the catheter and bandages. I was still black and blue, but for the first time I saw what my new body would look like. My groin was smooth and hairless. Julie had done a wonderful job, such that you couldn’t really tell that once there had been a tiny penis between my legs. Further down was a small hole opening, my new pee hole. Yes, Julie was right. I would be sitting down from now on. Strangely though, I didn’t feel very angry, nor was I very concerned anymore about not having sex.

I continued to heal, and was getting used to sitting down to pee. Julie also bought me some new underwear, panties. “No need for all that extra material in front anymore,” she said. I had to agree, and the silky material felt so good against my skin. Eventually she bought more women’s clothes for me, and I now wear skirts and pantyhose on a regular basis.

As soon as I had recovered, Julie resumed her relationships with her lovers. Just as she had predicted, I didn’t really mind anymore, even when she brought them home to spend the night. They fucked in our bed, while I drifted off to sleep in the guest room, listening to the sound of Julie’s moans and the creaking bed springs.