WARNING: This is a castration story. It may contain either male or female castration. If castration is not your thing, then don't read it. It also contains torture and strong sexual content, although this is not really a sex story. If you find any of that offensive, are under the age of 21 or such material is prohibited in your state or country, then stop reading right here.

This story is intended for mature adults only. This story is fiction, although some parts are based on real events. Most of this story came strictly from my imagination. Don't even think about trying any thing described in this story.





The Button Cutter

By Liana M

@(C) Copyright 2008 by Liana M, all rights reserved.

"That's it," Paul said, looking towards the end of the room. "The button cutter."

It was a strange device, like nothing I had ever seen, but then I had never seen a clitoris guillotine before!

I walked down to take a closer look. There was an inclined table with leg extensions so it looked like an upside down letter Y. A tall piece of equipment stood where the leg extensions forked from the table. This had to be the business part of the guillotine that could separate a lady from her pleasure button.

"Wow," I said.

"You like the way it looks, Eve?" Paul asked.

"It's so big," I said.

"But it has a very small blade," Paul said. "As it should for such a delicate bit of flesh. Would you like me to demonstrate how it works with a carrot?"

"Sure," I said. "But isn't a carrot more like a cock than a love button?"

Paul walked over to a table a few meters away and picked out a medium size carrot from a basket on the table. He must have placed it here just for this. Then he picked up a button and some small tacks.

"This will represent a love button," Paul said with a smile.

Paul placed the button at the large end of the carrot and shoved the tacks through the holes to connect it to the carrot.

"There," Paul said holding up his handiwork. "A love button ready to be cut."

I giggled.

Paul walked back to the clitoris guillotine.

"These clamps here are what hold the clit," Paul said. "The woman lies on the table with her legs spread very wide, the table is tilted up and the clit is brought through these clamps. It is pulled out as far as possible and then the clamps are closed like this."

Paul placed the carrot on the table so the button end extended out between the tips of the clamp and pushed a lever. The smooth shinny metal tips closed on the carrot and firmly held it in place. The tips of the clamp were very thin metal and slightly curved to reach into a woman's pelvis to grasp that most sensitive bit of flesh. The button now stood about half an inch out from the clamp tips.

"This is the blade up here," Paul said, pointing to the top of the tower extending up from the clamps. "It is small and slightly rounded, just like the clamps. It slides along these tracks right against the clamps. It is weighted so it will make a clean cut."

"I see," I said. "What releases the blade?"

Paul walked over to a small console.

"This red button here releases the blade," Paul said.

Paul flipped the clear plastic cover over the button open and pushed. Nothing happened.

"The button is not connected," Paul said. "To connect the button to the guillotine, you have to insert a connector between those two plugs there."

Paul pointed to the base of the guillotine where there were two earphone type plugholes about two inches apart.

"A connector like this has to be inserted," Paul said, holding up a white U shaped object with two earphone like plugs on it. "There is a bowl of connectors here, but only one is real. The others are all fakes that don't make the connection. The real one and fakes are indistinguishable, so when you plug the connector in, you never know if the blade will drop or not when the button is pressed."

"Wow," I said. "That is scary."

"There could be twenty connectors in the bowl," Paul said. "With nineteen of them fakes. Your odds are good, but you never know when you put you love button in those clamps whether you have the one live connector plugged in this time."

"That would be intense," I said.

"This is a patch cord we use for testing," Paul said, holding up a short piece of cable.

Paul walked over and plugged the two ends of the cable into the plugs on the clitoris guillotine.

"Ok, Eve, keep your eye on the button," Paul said as he walked back to the console. "It will be over in a flash."

Paul opened the plastic cover on the button again. I moved in front of the button cutter so I had a clear view of the carrot with the button on the end.

"On three," Paul said. "One ... two ... three!"

The blade dropped, slicing right through the carrot. The button and the end of the carrot dropped away towards a stainless steel tray. I tried to imagine how intense the pain must be when that blade slices away your most sensitive bits. How horrible it must be to never be able to feel the excitement of touching it, the release of tensions it can bring or the nirvana state that follows orgasmic ecstasy

"And just like that a ladies love button is gone forever," Paul said.

"Wow," I said. "That is intense. I mean really gone forever..."

"That's what makes this so incredibly exciting," Paul said. "The risk has to be very real to make it so exciting. Only a small chance the blade will drop, but once that blade starts to fall, your love button is gone forever."

My heart was racing, but I did my best to appear calm.

"So, have any women ever agreed to risk their love buttons on this thing?" I asked.

"Yes," Paul said. "Many over the years."

"Wow, really?" I said. "And has this device ever collected a woman's flower?"

"Yes it has," Paul said. "A number of times."

"I don't believe that," I said. "There would be blood and stuff."

"Yes, of course," Paul said. "We have trained medical staff for that."

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, very well trained," Paul said. "This is actually more important for a man. All it takes is a few stitches on a woman."

"I guess that is true," I said. "That must be the cock guillotine over there."

"Yes," Paul said. "Would you care to try it on a carrot?"

"Sure," I said.

Paul got a large carrot and brought it over to the other device in the room. This looked much more like a guillotine.

"It is height adjustable," Paul said. "This crank here adjusts these plates behind here for the length of the man's cock. The man's body is strapped to these plates so he cannot pull out and with these cranks it is adjusted so the head of his cock is just beyond where the blade would fall."

Paul placed the carrot on the edge of the hole, then went back and got the jumper cable and plugged it into the holes on the penis guillotine.

"Ok," Paul said. "Now all you have to do is push the button."

I raised the plastic cover over the button. I turned to watch the guillotine as I pressed the button. The blade dropped swiftly and cut cleanly through the end of the carrot. The carrot dropped into a stainless steel tray as the blade came to rest with a thud.

I stood speechless trying to imagine what it would be like to see a cock head sliced off that way.

Paul picked the end of the carrot out of the tray and brought it over to me.

"You've just won your first cock head," Paul said.

"What?" I replied.

"The person that push the button gets to keep the trophy," Paul replied.

"Wow," I said. "Do you have any trophies?"

"I have one," Paul replied.

"What!" I said. "I can't believe that. Show it to me."

Paul turned and walked over towards the wall next to the door. On the wall were several framed illustrations of BDSM activities. Paul opened the middle one like a door. Behind the framed drawing was a safe. Paul dialed in a combination and unlocked the safe. He reached in and got a small bottle and brought it over to me.

Paul held the bottle out and I took it from him. The bottle was filled with clear liquid and in the bottom of it was a semi circular mound of flesh. I could clearly make out the clitoral hood with the head of the clit sticking out from underneath it. This really was a woman's clit! A woman had wagered that bit of flesh that can bring the most intense pleasure and lost it forever! Paul now owned it. My heart was racing and my head felt like it was spinning.

"I bet she really misses that," I said, as I handed the bottle back to Paul.

"I'm sure she does," Paul said.

"Was she a lover?" I asked.

"No," Paul said. "A friend's wife."

"Holy cow," I said. "Is he still a friend?"

"Yeah," Paul said. "He is totally cool with it. His wife is mega pissed of course."

"But why did she do it?" I asked.

"It was a high stakes poker game," Paul said.

"Your love button is very high stakes," I said.

"All the players took the same risk," Paul said. "She could just as well have taken my cock head"

I tried to imagine what Paul's cock would look like with the head gone. He had a long, thin cock, easily more than 7".

"So, Eve," Paul said. "When your clit is recovered from the needles, do you want to play with these toys next time?"

"By play, I assume you don't mean role play," I said. "What are you thinking?"

"We put twenty connectors in a bowl, nineteen fakes and one real," Paul said. "I will draw one, put my cock in the guillotine and let you press the button. If the blade falls, you win my cock head. If not, you draw a connector, put your clitty in the button cutter and let me push the button. Odds are nothing happens, and we both get an incredible rush."

"But there is a chance I lose my ... my whole sex life," I said.

"There is a chance of that," Paul said. "But that small chance makes everything more intense. I bet your panties are moist just thinking about it."

I knew Paul was right about my panties.

"I'll think about it," I finally said.





Chapter 2

I met Paul at a BDSM club. There are lots of rich, spoiled young men that come trolling in those clubs looking for young sub girls they can abuse and forget about the next day. When they hit on me, I blow them off quickly by asking if I can torture their cock and balls. Paul wasn't taken back by that question. In fact he seemed intrigued. He asked if I was a dominatrix. I told him I was a switch, but only played with guys that let me abuse them first. Paul loved that idea, and we hit it off.

It was a long drive, but I followed him back to his house in the hills. The house sat atop a small hill, surrounded by larger hills. The Southern facing slopes of the hill and some of the surrounding hills were covered with vineyards. Paul said his father had brought this property intending to start a winery, but his father had become ill before he could complete that vision. Paul leased the vineyards to other wineries in the area. The house itself was huge. Paul apparently lived there alone.

We only did a little light S&M, spanking, whipping, and nipple clamps, that first night as we felt out each other's limits. Paul seemed pretty tough. I handcuffed and tied Paul spread eagle in the middle of his bed. I whipped his cock with a soft flogger, and then sat on his face and made him eat me out. Paul was good with his tongue, and I came with a shuddering orgasm that almost smothered poor Paul. Because he had been such a good boy, I rode his cock till he came with a big orgasm, something I hardly ever do on the first night.

I unlocked Paul and tried to get my clothes on and out of there before he recovered his senses, but Paul sat up, thanked me, and asked for my number. He entered it in his cell phone, but I never expected to hear from him again. Most guys never call, even after mind- blowing sex.

Two weeks later I was surprised when Paul called. He asked whether I wanted to try something more interesting. I agreed, not sure what I was getting myself into, but reminded Paul that I got to do to him whatever he did to me. He was cool with that, so we arranged to meet at his estate in the hills again.

This time the session was more intense. We used a long whip rather than a small flogger. We took turns on an Andrews Cross, using whips, canes, paddles and crops. We both had a lot of red marks.

"What is the most intense breast torture you've ever done?" Paul asked.

"The pain flower with a root clamp," I replied.

I showed Paul how to do a pain flower. It is hard on a guy, because they don't have breasts, but ten or twelve clothespins in a circle around each nipple and a clover clamp right on the tip of the nipple did the trick. That got Paul squirming. Then I did the root clamp, a couple of clothespins on his cock head. Paul was screaming, but he never said the safe word. I sat back and enjoyed his suffering for 5 minutes or so.

Each clothespin on your breast hurts just a little, but the combined effect of ten or twelve on each breast is intense, and the evil little clover clamp on the tip of the nipples sharply focuses the pain. To top it off there is the root clamp. For me that is a clothespin on my clit which just hurts like hell. The combined effect of intense pain in the breasts, nipples and clit at the same time is mind blowing. When the clothespins all come off you are relieved and horny as hell. Most people don't understand the thin line between pleasure and pain, and how crossing over the line to pain, can make your pleasure that much more intense.

I knew that when I set Paul free, I would suffer a similar fate, but I didn't mind. We had mind-blowing sex afterwards, even if my clit was still a little sensitive from the clothespin. I handcuffed Paul and made him kneel between my legs and lick me out as I lay spread eagle in a stuffed chair. After I came, I unlocked Paul and let him take me doggy style. It's not my favorite, but guys seemed to always love it. I guess there is something dom about it that appeals to guys. I really like to watch the guy's face as he cums inside me, but Paul had been a good sub boy for me, so I played the good sub girl for him.

It was at our third session that things got intense. We started out like before with some whipping and paddling on the St. Andrews Cross.

"Eve, you seem like a girl that likes to take risks," Paul said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You came here with me that first night," Paul said. "You let me restrain you and abuse you, with just the promise that I would stop if you said the safe word."

"I made a judgment about your character at the club," I said. "I wouldn't have come if I didn't think it was safe."

"You risked your life on that judgment," Paul said. "If I had turned out to be a serial killer, you would be dead."

"But you're not a serial killer," I said.

"You could not really be sure of that the first night," Paul said. "You computed the odds I was not a serial killer, and decided to risk your life on those odds."

"I made a judgment," I said.

"It means the same thing," Paul said.

"I guess," I said. "But what is the point?"

"I'm wondering if you would take a small risk with your clit," Paul said.

"What kind of risk?" I asked.

Paul opened a draw and pulled out a small case. He opened the case to show two needles.

"Have you ever used needles?" Paul asked.

"No," I replied.

"Either have I," Paul said.

"So you want to experiment with needles?" I asked.

"I have heard that needles in the most sensitive spots are exquisitely painful," Paul said.

"I bet," I said. "What spots?"

"Why your love button, of course," Paul said. "And my cock head. Would you like the chance to stick these pins in my cock head?"

I stared at the needles. They were sterilized, individually wrapped medical needles. In my mind I saw Paul tied spread eagle, helpless on the bed with his cock sticking straight up. I saw myself firmly gripping the shaft and pushing one of these needles right through that most sensitive spot at the bottom edge of the head.

"Of course," I said with a smile. "You know I love to abuse men's cocks, but I think you want to abuse my clitty."

"Of course I do," said Paul. "But I only have the two needles and they can only be used once. I propose a simple card game. Maybe I'll get to stick these two needles in your love button. Maybe you'll get to stick them in my cock. Maybe we will just put them back in the draw for another time. What do you think Eve? Are you willing to risk your love button?"

We were both naked, and Paul's cock had grown rock hard as he talked.

"I can see you are up for it," I said, looking down at Paul's cock.

Paul kissed me on the cheek and reached a finger into my pussy.

"You are soaking wet Eve," Paul said. "Your pussy says you are up for it."

"What card game?" I asked. "I don't suppose you were thinking of old maid?"

"Just a very simple game," Paul said.

Paul got a deck of cards out of the draw. It had two joker cards. He discarded one of them and mixed the other one into the deck.

"This is a standard deck of cards," Paul said. "I added one joker. We take turns drawing cards. If you draw a joker, the other person gets to put the needles in your sensitive spot, but we will not draw all the cards. If no one draws the joker, we put the needles away. Perhaps we will test our luck again some other night."

"Wow," I said. "That sounds intense."

"It will be if you draw a joker," Paul said. "Are you up for it, Eve?"

"How many cards do we draw?" I asked.

"How much risk are you willing to take?" Paul responded. "Would you do five cards each? Only a small risk."

There were fifty-two cards in a deck. Five didn't sound very risky.

"Ok," I said. "You're on."

Paul carried the cards and needles to a glass top coffee table in the next room. We sat naked on the floor on opposite sides of the table. Each time I reached for a card, my heart was racing. I was wondering if I would leave a visible wet spot on the carpet when I stood up. That evening, neither of us drew the joker.

After the last card had been drawn, Paul picked me up and carried me into the bedroom. There was no foreplay. None was needed. He was horny as hell and so was I. He took me missionary style. He started with long slow strokes, but speed up and came quickly. I love the expression on a man's face as he cums.

Paul collapsed beside me, but I was not finished at all. Since Paul was out of it, I started fingering myself. Paul took notice, but did move to help. He just watched me finger myself to an incredible orgasm. When I collapsed and rolled over, Paul hugged me.

"What did you fantasize to achieve such intense pleasure?" Paul asked.

I didn't answer.

"It was needles in you clit?" Paul asked.

I just smiled at Paul. He was correct, of course.





Chapter 3

It was a couple weeks before Paul called again. He said he was traveling, but we arranged to meet at his estate on Saturday afternoon. We played with paddles, whips and canes as we had before. Then Paul pulled a cover cloth off a piece of equipment I had not seen before.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's called a wooden pony," Paul said.

"Doesn't look anything like a pony," I said with a laugh.

"No it doesn't," Paul said. "It is specifically designed for the slow torture of ladies."

"Oh," I said.

"I have a deal to offer you, Eve," Paul said. "If you will give me the pleasure of watching you ride the pony for an hour, you can kick my cock and balls to your heart's content afterwards."

I looked at the so-called wooden pony. It just consisted of a thin piece of wood run between two supporting stands. The wood was rounded at the top so there were no sharp edges. In the center of the piece of wood a rounded indentation had been cut vaguely like a saddle.

"What exactly does riding the pony mean?" I asked.

"You straddle the bar here in the middle," Paul said. "The height of the bar is adjusted so you have to stand on your tippy toes to keep your tender parts off the saddle."

"So basically, I have to stand on my tip toes for an hour," I said.

"Yes," Paul replied. "Your hands will be cuffed behind your back and I may add nipple clamps later to make it more enjoyable, but that is basically it."

I was in good shape. I ran several times a week. Standing on my tiptoes for an hour didn't sound that bad. It would probably leave me with sore leg muscles, but that was no big deal. In return for that, I got to kick Paul in the balls! That sounded like a good trade to me.

"You got a deal," I said.

Standing on your tiptoes for an hour may not sound that bad, but it gets to you quickly. After I had straddled the wooden rail, Paul handcuffed me behind my back. Then he tied a rope to my handcuffs and fastened it to ceiling pulling my arms back. This forced me to bend forward slightly bringing my delicate bits closer to the wooden rail. Then Paul raised the height of the rail, forcing me up on my tiptoes. He kept checking me and raising the level a bit more until I was forced to stand on my very tiptoes to keep the delicate flesh between my legs off the wooden rail.

Paul sat back in a chair to watch me suffer. Within five minutes I was starting to feel my legs getting tired. I began to rock back and forth, supporting myself on one leg, while I rested the other. I looked over at Paul. He was sitting completely naked in a big stuffed chair, sipping on some drink, with a rock hard cock sticking up out of his lap.

"It looks like you're enjoying the show," I said.

"I like to watch you dance," Paul said. "This is only the beginning. I think it is time for the nipple clamps."

Paul came over and attached some clover clamps to my nipples, then returned to his chair.

I have tough nipples from frequent use of nipple clamps. After a minute or two the sharp pain of the clover clamps faded away into dullness. I knew the pain would return when the clamps were removed. I suffered on in silence, letting Paul enjoy his show. In thirty minutes or so I would be kicking his balls.

I was concentrating on getting through my ride, and didn't notice Paul get the cane. He had snuck up behind me and landed a good swat on my behind. I squealed and smacked my clit into the front curve of the saddle.

"Hey," I said. "You didn't say anything about canes."

"It's all part of the ride," Paul said as he landed another blow on my derriere.

I was prepared this time, and didn't hit my clit very hard on the front of the saddle.

"Hmmmm," Paul said. "Eve, have I told you what a fantastic ass you have. The way you wiggle it really gets me going."

With that Paul landed another stroke with the cane. I reflectively wiggle my buttocks till the sting faded away. Paul walked away, but was back in a minute.

"Those nipple clamps have probably gotten pretty dull," Paul said. "Time to sharpen them up a little."

With that Paul hung a small weight on the string connected to each clover clamp. Clover clamps are such devilishly evil little things. When you add weights to them, the clamp just grips your nipple tighter. The weights caused the sharp pain in my nipples to return, only more intense than before. It began to feel like my nipples were burning.

If you have never done nipple clamps, you won't understand this. The pain from nipple clamps is very real and uncomfortable, but it also makes me hot and horny. I could feel how wet I was getting. I was sure the wood rail I was struggling to keep my pussy from resting on, must be getting wet too. Paul was back in his chair sipping his drink and enjoying my suffering. He would be getting his shortly.

I saw Paul get up again.

"Your ass is so inviting, I just can't resist," Paul said.

I heard the whoosh of the cane, followed by the sharp pain in my buttocks.

"The way you wiggle that ass, drives me crazy," Paul said. "I love your perky breasts too, but hmmm, that ass is heavenly."

Paul went away to get something.

"Now it is time to add the cherry on the top of this confection," Paul said. "Or perhaps I should say, a clothespin on your cherry."

"What!" I said in protest.

Paul reached in and grabbed my clit. He wiggled it and pulled it out a bit, then placed the wooden clothespin right on the clit. A sharp pain shot through my clit and pussy.

"There now," Paul said. "You should really enjoy that. I know I will enjoy watching."

I closed my eyes and grimaced, concentrating on putting the pain out of my mind. My hour must almost be up. Just a little longer and I would be kicking the hell out of Paul's balls.

I looked up and saw Paul sitting in his chair again. He still had a huge hardon, but this time he was slowly stroking his cock shaft as he watched me struggle to endure the pain in my legs, nipples, and cunt. He didn't seem to be in a hurry. He was just slowly and methodically stroking himself.

The pain in my clit was duller now, a little easier to endure, but my nipples were feeling like they were burning from the weights on the clamps. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Paul was starting to stroke faster. I turned as he pushed his pelvis up out of the chair. A stream of white cum shot out of his cock and flew through the air towards me. It landed on the floor three or four feet in front of Paul. A couple more smaller streams shot out from Paul's cock and landed on the floor closer to Paul.

Paul collapsed back into the chair with his eyes closed.

"Hey," I said. "Now that you've shot your stuff, think you can get me off this thing."

Paul smiled at me.

"I guess your time is up," Paul said.

Paul got up and came over. He took the clothespin off my clit, which was a great relief. Then he took the weights off the nipple clamps. He very carefully removed the nipple clamps, but it still caused sharp jolts of pain in each nipple as the clamps were removed. Then he untied my arms and released the handcuffs. I climbed off the wooden pony.

"So, did you like your ride?" Paul asked.

"I could see that you got off on it," I said. "Did you want to empty those balls before I kick the living daylights out of them?"

Paul laughed.

"I never thought of that," he said. "It is very stimulating watching a woman slowly suffer on the pony."

"We'll see how stimulating you find my kicking your balls," I laughed.

Paul went to get something to clean up the mess he had made. I could tell that my legs were going to be stiff and sore tomorrow, but right now I was going to enjoy my revenge on Paul's balls.

"So how should I kick you balls," I asked, after Paul had finished cleaning up.

"I don't know," Paul said. "With your feet."

"I mean you standing, kneeling, laying on the floor?" I explained.

"I expect I'll be on the ground after the first couple of kicks anyway," Paul said.

I looked around.

"Not if I fasten you to the cross," I said.

"But then I couldn't protect my balls," Paul said.

"So?" I asked.

"Oh," Paul said. "Well, whatever you say. Just be gentle."

"Yeah," I said. "Of course I will be gentle with you, just like you were gentle with me on the pony."

I marched Paul back to the St Andrews Cross and cuffed his hands and legs to the cross. The X shape of the cross, of course, spread his legs very wide so I had a nice clear shot at his balls.

I was not sure how hard I could safely kick Paul's balls. I decided to start gently and build up, judging by Paul's screams when to quit. I was barefoot so it would just be my foot, not shoes.

I lined up my tried to gently kick the balls. I missed completely! My toes went behind Paul's balls, but my foot barely touched his balls.

"I have to aim better," I said.

"You don't have to," Paul said.

The next kick I kept foot stretched out so it came up under the balls flat. That made sure I didn't miss again. I started gently, but still Paul reacted to my kicks. I waited several seconds between each kick till Paul appeared to recover from the last blow. I tried to make each kick a little harder than the previous. Paul groaned and tried to collapse, but the wrist restrains left him hanging on the cross.

I waited for him to regain his composure. It took almost a minute, but finally he stood back up. I landed a hard kick using the top of my foot to crush his balls up into his body. Paul screamed and collapsed moaning again.

It looked like it would be a while before he recovered from that kick. I looked around for a soft chair. I pushed one over in front of the St. Andrew's Cross. Paul was gathering himself up again. I waited patiently for him to completely recover. When he was standing again, I delivered another hard kick to his balls. He cried out in agony and crumpled again, hanging by his hand restraints.

I sat down in the soft chair, spread my legs and began to rub my pussy very slowly. I looked up at Paul moaning a little as he hung on the cross. I pushed a finger into my pussy to get it moist and continued to gently rub my clit. I was pretty excited from my pony ride and kicking Paul's balls, but I didn't want to cum too fast. It is much better if I do it slowly and let it just build up until it is a like a big wave that washes over me.

Paul was now beginning to struggle back up and regain some composure. He looked over at me and smiled.

"Hey," I said, as I got out of the chair. "This is for me, not a show for you."

I landed another hard blow right on his balls. He collapsed

I sat back down in the chair and continued rubbing my clit. Paul was hanging limp and moaning. I parted my vaginal lips and ran my fingers up and down my pussy. My fingers were now wet with my own juices, and I brought them up to rub my clit. I started to imagine what it would feel like to kick a guys balls so hard that they burst. I imagined kicking Paul's balls and feeling the squish as they gave way.

I looked up and saw Paul still hanging limp but looking at me.

"Hey," I said, as I jumped out of the chair. "This is not a show for you."

I kicked Paul's balls again.

"If I catch you looking at me again," I said. "I'm going to really bust you balls for good."

Paul was moaning with his eyes closed now. I went back to my chair and spread my legs again. I ran my fingers up and down my pussy to get them lubricated, then brought my index finger up to my clit and began to gently rub. Paul was still moaning from my last kick. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to crush his balls. To feel them permanently crushed. I could feel the tidal wave building in my groin. I started to rub a little faster. I spread my legs wider and sunk down lower in the chair. My mind was focused on my clit and the fantasy of crushing Paul's balls. My vagina pulsated and the orgasm radiated out from my clit, running down my legs and all over my body.

As the contractions slowed and faded, I gripped my pussy tightly and continue to apply pressure to my clit to squeeze the maximum pleasure from the last tiny contractions. When I recovered my senses and opened my eyes, Paul was still hanging limp.

I got up and walked over to Paul. I cupped his balls in my hand.

"Are these sore," I asked.

"You know they are," Paul said softly.

"Thanks for letting me abuse them," I said with a big smile.

"I saw how much you enjoyed it," Paul said.

"Oh, you were a bad boy," I said. "I warned you about peeking."

Paul just smiled.

"Let's relax a bit," Paul said.

We went the bedroom and lay on the bed together. Paul spooned me. He put his arm over the top and got one of my breasts in his palm. Paul felt warm and nice next to me. It was good to have a boy to cuddle with that wanted to hold my modest breasts.

After about ten minutes I could feel Paul's cock beginning to stir against my behind. Paul sat up.

"How is your clit feeling?" Paul asked.

"It's fine," I replied. "All recovered from your evil clothespin."

"Great," Paul said, smiling at me. "Want to play the needle game again?"

"You mean where I get to put needles in your cock?" I asked.

"Or I get to put needles in your little clitty," Paul said. "Or we just put the needles away for another time. All depends on the luck of the draw. Are you up for risking your clitty on a draw of the cards?"

I looked down and Paul's cock was hard again.

"Looks like you are up for it," I observed. "Let's do it."

Paul got the box of needles and the deck of cards again. We sat again on opposite sides of the glass top coffee table.

"Last time we drew five cards each," Paul said. "How about ten this time?"

"Ok," I said. "Ten it is."

Paul inserted the one joker card in the deck again and shuffled the cards. He set the pile in the middle of the table and drew the first card. I drew the next. We silently alternated drawing cards. My heart was racing every time I had to reach for another card. I counted out the cards in front of me. I had seven, just three more to draw. I drew another face card, but not a joker, and was relieved. Paul drew another small card. I drew another card, and there it was, the dreaded joker.

"Oh my god," I exclaimed.

Paul picked me up and carried me into the bedroom. He set me down on the bed and tied me spread eagle on the bed.

"I really hate needles," I said. "Don't like to get shots or blood tests at all."

"Then you will really get off on this," Paul said, as he walked out of the room.

A minute later Paul came back with the needle box and some alcohol. Paul sat down on the edge of the bed and spread my pussy lips wide. He fingered my clit a little and then pulled on it. My stomach was getting tight. Paul swabbed some alcohol on my clit, which made it feel cold. Then he broke open one of the needles. Paul pulled my clitoral hood back to expose my clit. I felt a sharp pain in my clit as Paul pushed the needle all the way through my clit.

"Ahhhh," I screamed "oh god."

"That's the first one," Paul said. "Just lay still"

The sharp pain slowly faded to a dull pain.

Paul shoved the second needle in from the other side. Perhaps my clit was extra sensitive from the first needle. Perhaps the second one just hit a nerve. Whatever, the pain seems five times as intense.

"Ahhhhhh," I screamed.

The sharp pain faded but it left my clit feeling like it was on fire.

"How's that, Eve?" Paul said.

"It mother fucking hurts," I said.

"It's supposed to hurt," Paul said.

I tried to lay still and suffer in silence. I was afraid that wiggling around would just make the needles worse. The burning was finally fading to a dull pain.

"Ok, now lay still, Eve," Paul said. "I'm going to take the needles out."

"Ok," I said, closing my eyes.

I felt Paul pull the first needle out. Then he pulled the second needle out, which caused a brief spike of pain.

"There, all out," Paul said. "How does your clit feel?"

"It's sore!" I said.

Paul unfastened my wrists and then my ankles. I sat up and looked at my clit. I pulled the clit hood back. I could not see any bleeding or sign of the holes from the needles. I gently touched my clit and it was still very sore.

"It is still sore," I said. "How long does that last?"

"I think it will fade quickly," Paul said. "Should be much better in a few minutes, completely recovered by tomorrow."

"I hope so," I said.

"There is a small chance it will go numb for a while," Paul said.

"What!" I exclaimed. "You didn't tell me that before."

"It is very rare," Paul said. "And it almost always passes after an hour or a day at most."

"You mean those needles could make my clit numb, as in no more feelings, no more orgasms?" I asked.

"Highly unlikely," Paul said. "Permanent numbness is suppose to be possible, but I have never read anything about it."

"You should have told me before," I said.

"But your clit isn't numb," Paul said. "Just sore."

"True," I said. "But still you should have warned me."

"If I had told you that there was a one in hundred chance you clit would be numb for an hour," Paul said. "And a one in a thousand chance it would be numb for a day, and a one in hundred thousand chance you clit would be permanently numb, would you still have agreed to our little wager?"

"Hummmm...., probably," I said.

"Brave girl," Paul said. "You are a truly amazing, Eve."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, hoping to get a little flattery.

"You have a smoking hot little bod," Paul said. "And you really understand the relationship between pain and pleasure, how a little or even a lot of pain in the right spots can make the pleasure that much more intense. Most hot girls are such boring, stuck up little bitches. No appreciation for the more sublime. The fact that you are willing to put that hot little bod of yours at so much risk for our mutual pleasure is really amazing."

"Well, thank you," I said. "I always thought ... er .. I was a little flat chested."

"No, not at all," Paul said. "I love your breasts just the way they are, so perky and natural. They are perfect."

"Thank you," I said.

"And that ass of yours," Paul said. "I love it, and love that you let me spank your ass. That is so hot."

"I'm glad you like it," I said.

"And that fiery red hair, wow," Paul said. "I have always loved red heads. They always get me hard."

"I can see you are getting hard again," I said, looking down at Paul's cock.

I pushed Paul back so he sat down on the edge of his bed and I knelt on the floor between his legs. I squeezed my breasts to make them as big as possible and smiled up at Paul. I began licking his cock, running my tongue from the base up to the tip of the head. I ran my tongue around the head of his cock and then took it into my mouth. I gripped the base of his cock in my right hand as I slid his cock along my tongue. I used my lips to grip his shaft, while continuing to slide the underside of his cock head along my tongue. Paul was now moaning and he grabbed my hair to hold my head down on his cock. He wanted to let me know I should just keep doing what I was doing.

I could feel Paul's cock head getting bigger in my mouth and I could taste his precum on my tongue. I knew he was getting close. When he came, his cum splashed against the back of my throat. I slowed down, but continued to run his cock head along my tongue, milking the last of his cum, until Paul pushed my head away. I swallowed his cum and smiled up at Paul. Paul was pretty much out of it, in post-orgasmic nirvana. I quietly got up and got a glass of water in the bathroom to wash the taste out of my mouth. Then I came back I kissed Paul on the forehead.

"Wow," Paul said. "Did I mention that you give great head too?"

"No, you didn't," I said.

"So how is that clit feeling?" Paul asked.

"Better," I said. "But still a little sore."

"I'd love to give it a licking," Paul said.

"I think it is best we give it a rest till next time," I said. "My punishment for drawing the joker. No more Os tonight."

"Indeed," Paul said.

"I think I better get going," I said.

We both set about finding our clothes and getting dressed. As I was looking around for my shoes, Paul came up to me completely dressed again.

"Can I ask you a hypothetical question," Paul said.

"Sure," I replied.

"If I had told you the odds of your clit going permanently numb from the needles was one in a thousand, would you still have agreed to draw cards for it?" Paul asked.

"Hmmm," I said. "One in a thousand. What would the odds be of your penis going permanently numb from the needles?"

"Say it was the same," Paul said. "We would both be taking the same risk."

"Hmmm, I don't know," I said. "Thousand to one does not sound very risky, but still ... I'm not sure."

"There would be a one in a thousand chance one of us would never be able to cum again," Paul said. "You could take away from me the ability to ever cum again. Does that kind of risk, that kind of wager, make you excited?"

"Wow," I said. "That would be a high risk wager."

"What if the odds were only one in a hundred?" Paul said. "Would you still play?"

"One in a hundred chance of never cumming again," I said. "That would be really risky."

"But it makes you excited," Paul said. "I can tell it does."

"No it doesn't," I said.

"I can see your nipples have gotten rock hard while we have been talking," Paul said. "And I bet you are getting wet too."

I frequently don't wear a bra, because I don't really need one for my 34A breasts and my top was tight enough that my hard nipples showed. I liked teasing guys with my nipples, but here they had betrayed me. Paul was right. I was getting wet thinking about his questions.

"The odds of permanent numbness are nothing like one in a hundred or thousand," Paul said. "In fact I'm not sure it has ever happened."

"That's good," I said.

"But there is a way we can add spice to our relationship by really risking our most sensitive bits," Paul said. "If you are up for it?"

"How?" I asked.

"My father, when he built this house, had a secret dungeon built under the side of the hill," Paul said. "In that dungeon he built some very clever devices for men and women to really risk their sex life. It is the ultimate wager a person can make, short of wagering their life. If you lose at Russian roulette, you're dead and don't have much time to regret it, but if you lose your sex life, you have a life time to regret it."

"Yes you would," I said.

"But imagine winning another person's sex life," Paul said. "And getting a trophy to prove it."

"What kind of trophy?" I asked.

"The persons cock head or clit," Paul said.

"What!" I said.

"Yes my father built a penis guillotine and a clit guillotine," Paul said.

"A clit guillotine?" I said in disbelieve.

"Yes," Paul said. "We call it the Button Cutter, because it can cut off a woman's love button."

"I don't believe it," I said. "You're making this up."

"Would you like to see it?" Paul said.

"You have it here?" I asked.

"When my father built this house, he had secret rooms built under the hill next to the house," Paul said. "The guillotines are in one of those secret rooms."

"I've got to see this," I said.

Paul led me to the back stairs and down to a large wine cellar. The walls were lined with floor to ceiling wooden wine racks, which were mostly full of wine bottles. Paul pulled on a section of the wine racks on the far wall. That section of racks was fastened to a hidden door that opened with the racks still attached and full of wine. Paul turned on a light switch. I followed Paul down the narrow corridor.

The corridor was about twenty feet long, only wide enough for one-person with low ceilings and dim lighting. At the end of the corridor was a metal door. The door had a keypad lock. Paul punched in a code and opened the door.

Behind the door was a large room. It was furnished like a family room, with big couches and a standup bar at one end. The walls of the room seemed to be covered with large panels of some sound deadening material.

"My father originally built this as a bomb shelter," Paul said. "It had beds and stockpiles of food then, but my father also added the secret dudgeon."

Paul walked over to one of the wall panels and reached down and pushed his finger into a hole at the floor level. The panel popped open like a door.

"Boy, you sure have a lot of hidden doors," I said.

"Can't be too careful," Paul said as he turned on the light in the room behind the door.

The room was a small dungeon. There was another St. Andrew's Cross, a large wooden table, some things that looked like padded saw horses, chains on the walls and ceiling, and crates of rope and other bondage toys.

"Nice little secret dungeon," I said.

"Yes, it is," Paul said. "But what we came for is in the next room."

Paul walked over to a door on the other side and opened it. He reached in and found the light switch. This second room was larger than the dungeon, and furnished and decorated like an upscale living room, but what caught my attention were the two strange devices in the middle of the room.

"That's it," Paul said, looking towards the end of the room. "The Button Cutter."





Chapter 4

That is how I found my way to the sub terrain home of the button cutter. As we found our way out of the dungeons and back to the house, Paul explained a little of the history of the guillotines.

"Have you ever heard of the Skoptsy?" Paul asked.

"No," I said. "Who were they?"

"They were a secretive Russian religious cult that grew fairly large during the 19th century," Paul said. "They believed that sexual lust prevents people from communicating with god, and men and women should free themselves from sexual lust by castration."

"Wow," I said as I followed Paul down the narrow hall back to the house.

"They removed men's testicles and woman's breasts, believing these were the organs of sexual lust, but they also had a higher level of purification, a so called complete castration, which removed the penis or clitoris as well. Only a select few members were completely castrated."

"The Skoptsy were persecuted and arrested in Russia, but the cult grew anyway," Paul continued. "The claim is there were more than hundred thousand members at the beginning of the twentieth century. "

"A hundred thousand?" I said in disbelieve following Paul.

"Yes," Paul said. "Some of the Skoptsy fled Russia and settled in villages in the old country where my grandfather grew up. The Skoptsy in the village believed that only those people selected by god should be given a complete castration. They asked my grandfather if he could build a penis guillotine and clit guillotine that would randomly select who should be completely castrated. That was how my grandfather came to build the first version of these guillotines. Every few years the Skoptsy men and women in the village would have a secret ceremony to see if god selected any of them for complete castration."

"That is amazing," I said. "But where did they get this crazy idea?"

We came out of the narrow hall back into the wine cellar.

"From the bible, of course," Paul said. "It says '...there are eunuchs who made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven.' So they decided you had to make yourself a eunuch to enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

"But if they all castrated themselves," I said. "They could not have children. They must have died out quickly."

"I think they were allowed to have up to two children," Paul said. "Then they purified themselves by castration."

"Ah," I said. "But what happened to them? How come I have never heard of them?"

We started back up the stairs to the house.

"The Soviet Union stamped the Skoptsy out," Paul said. "In my family's village a few survived. The Romanian government tried to completely wipe them out after World War II, but small secretive groups in the villages escaped notice. My grandfather and later my father let them use the guillotines up until the 1980s or so. After that there were very few real Skoptsy left, but some of the village people continued to follow similar believes. Occasionally they still have the ceremony in secret even today."

"Wow," I said. "They are still doing it, but there aren't any Skoptsy here, are there?"

"No," Paul said. "My father, some of my aunts and uncles and a few friends from the village picked up the Skoptsy tradition and twisted it into high stakes gambling on special occasions."

"Special occasions?" I asked, as we reached the top of the stairs. "What kind of special occasions?"

"Every few years they had a big reunion, family and friends," Paul said. "In this country it's smaller. Most of the family is still in the old country."

"And everyone puts their things in the guillotine?" I asked.

"Everyone who attends," Paul said. "That is the rule. If you watch the event, you have to take the risk."

"Wow," I said. "Sounds risky. Have people lost ... you know ... their things?"

"There are some cockles men and clitless women from playing the game," Paul said. "You saw one of the clits."

"Holy cow," I said. "It's lucky you have any children in the family at all."

"Oh, we have quite a few children," Paul said. "I have two sisters, and a whole bunch of cousins."

"That's good," I said.

We had reached the front door. Paul took me in his arms and kissed me on the lips, before letting me go.

"I'll call next week," Paul said as he watched me leave.





Chapter 5

On the drive home and in my apartment I kept thinking about the button cutter, the way it had sliced the end of the carrot off. What would the clamps to hold the clit feel like? How horrible would it be to have my clit sliced off that way?

It took about two days for my clit to completely recover from the needles, but I was horny as hell from the thoughts swirling in my mind. I couldn't wait that long. The next day I was gingerly fingering myself in spite of the soreness.

I usually only do it solo a couple times a week, but this week I was doing it a couple times a day. It was crazy. Why did the idea of putting my clit under that blade make me so hot? If that blade dropped, there would be no more orgasmic ecstasy and no more serenity of post-orgasmic bliss.

On Friday Paul called.

"Hey Eve, how are you doing," Paul said on the phone.

"I'm great," I replied.

"All recovered from the needles I hope," Paul said.

"Oh, yes," I replied. "Took a couple of days, but I'm fine now."

"Great," Paul said. "Are you free Saturday?"

"Yes," I said.

"You thought about playing with the toys in the secret dungeon?" Paul asked.

I could hardly think of anything else this week.

"They seem kind of risky," I said.

"Oh, come on, Eve," Paul said. "I bet you have been wet all week thinking about it."

I wasn't going to admit what I had been doing all week.

"Perhaps," I said. "But it's still dangerous."

"It's a small risk," Paul said. "You know you want to do it."

"I think it would be exciting," I said. "A little too exciting."

"Oh come on," Paul said. "You know you want to do it."

"Yes," I said. "I want to do it, but I'm not crazy. I don't want to lose my clit."

"I don't want to lose my cock either," Paul said. "So what if we made the odds better?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Instead of twenty connectors in the bowl," Paul said. "We could have fifty connectors, only one of which is real."

"You have that many connectors?" I asked.

"Yes," Paul said. "More than enough. Will you do it?"

"Ummm... well ... I don't know," I said.

"You know you want to," Paul said.

"Yes," I said. "But it's still dangerous."

"You know you love a little danger," Paul said.

"Well ... maybe," I said.

"Ok," Paul said. "I bet maybe means yes. I'll see you Saturday afternoon."

My brain was telling me to say clear of the button cutter, but I knew Paul was right.

I went out to a BDSM club Friday night, but my heart was not in it. I brushed off a cute young guy that tried to make a passes at me before he even got started. A cute young guy was not what I was looking for this night. As the young man walked away, I studied his tight butt. I realized what I wanted. I left and drove back to my apartment.

I took a shower and got ready for bed. I lit a few big candles. I checked my alarm clock and adjusted it to go off in 90 minutes. Then I changed my mind and set it for two hours from now. I pushed the sheets back and lay back naked in the bed. I cupped my breasts with my hands. I squeezed my nipples with my fingers, and then pushed my right hand across my stomach and between my legs. I ran my fingers around my pussy and spread the lips. I was dripping wet already in anticipation of the very personal form of self-torture I had planned for tonight, orgasm denial.

The object of orgasm denial is to the finger myself to the plateau state from where a few seconds of vigorous rubbing would get me to nirvana, but to keep myself at that agitated state for as long as possible. It is an exquisite form of self-torture. I apply slow gentle stimulation to the clitoris, with an occasional break to get more lubricant from my pussy. The idea is not to deny orgasm by stopping when I feel the excitement building. That would be cheating. I must continue my slow, steady stimulation of the clit and try to prevent my orgasm by force of will. Tonight I had set a goal of two hours of denial. I could not cum until my alarm went off.

It is difficult to really do self-torture. It is so tempting to just give in. There must be a punishment for failure. In the past the punishment was one or two weeks of chastity, no stimulation or orgasms allowed. That was certainly an incentive to not give up and cum too early, but tonight I had a darker punishment in mind. If I failed, my punishment would be to put my clit under the button cutter's blade with a one in fifty chance the blade drops and slices my clit completely off. Failure tonight could mean permanent chastity, no more orgasms ever.

I lay back in the soft candlelight gently rubbing my clit. I thought of that young man I had brushed off tonight at the club. I imagined what he would look like walking away naked, his buttocks bouncing, and his cock swaying between his legs. I could feel the excitement building. I needed to make my mind blank if I had any hope of denying my orgasm for two hours.

I tried to think of nothing, but images of the button cutter kept flashing through my mind. What would it feel like to sit on that table and slide your clit into those clamps knowing that the blade could take it all away? Would the clamps feel cold? Would they pinch and be painful?

I could feel the tension building between my legs. Unless I could make my brain go blank I could not hold out much longer.

What would it be like to be tied there watching Paul push the button? Would Paul be secretly hoping for the blade to drop? It was frightening to think about. If my clit was sliced off, would I get to see it laying there in the tray? What would my clit look like after it was sliced off? Would it be all bloody? How could I be thinking about this?

The tension between my legs was growing stronger. I could not hold it back much longer unless I stopped, but that would be cheating. I continued the slow gentle massage of my clit. I needed to put the button cutter out of my mind.

Paul would have to put his gorgeous long cock in the guillotine too, and I would get to push the button. Did I want the blade to drop? I wasn't sure. It was a very nice cock. Would be a shame to waste it that way. On the other hand Paul was going first. If his cock was sliced off my clit would be safe. I wanted the blade to drop to drop on Paul's beautiful cock. I wanted his cock head in a little jar.

My clit and vagina contract suddenly. I pushed my finger into my clit and rubbed harder. Waves of pleasure radiated out from my pussy across my stomach and thighs. I straightened my legs and arched my back to intensive the orgasm. The contractions grew smaller and smaller. My fingers slowed. I gently rubbed my clit to get every last bit of pleasure from the tiny contractions as they faded away. I collapsed back on my bed and lapsed into semi unconsciousness.

When I regained my senses, I looked at the clock. I had not even made one hour, much less two. Now my fate was sealed. My clit had to go under the button cutter.





Chapter 6

Saturday evening Paul was waiting for me at the door when I arrived.

"Nice to see you, Eve," Paul said as he ushered me into the house.

"So, what did you decide," Paul asked. "Do you want to play with our new toys tonight?"

I smiled at Paul.

"You know I want to," I said.

"But are you willing to risk it?" Paul asked.

"You mean risk my little naughty bits?" I said with a smile.

"Yes," Paul said. "Are you willing to put your private lady bits in the button cutter and give me a shot at adding them to my collection."

"If you will give me a shot at your manly bits first," I said. "Then you can have a shot at my lady parts. Providing, of course, that I don't already have you manly bits in my collection."

"Of course," Paul said. "The lady should always have the first chance."

Paul led the way to the back of the house, down through the wine cellar and the narrow, poorly lit corridor to the big metal door of the old bomb shelter. Paul punched in the code and opened the door. The lights were already on and we went in.

"We can undress here," Paul said.

I quickly undressed and stacked my clothes on one of the couches. My heart was racing and my stomach was in a knot. I knew the risk was small, but I was actually going to put my clit in the button cutter!

"Want to give your lady parts a work out," Paul said. "...just in case..."

I could see that Paul was excited too. A naked man can hardly hide it.

"I gave my lady parts a final workout last night," I said with a defiant smile.

"Oh," Paul said. "And I wasn't invited?"

"Don't get all jealous," I said. "It was solo."

"Solo?" Paul said. "I would have loved to watch."

"Pervert," I said.

"Guilty as charged," Paul said. "Much more fun to be a pervert. Only a pervert would want to watch a man risk his cock, so I guess you're a pervert too."

"Or watch a woman risk her clit," I replied.

"Now that we have established we are both perverts," Paul said. "Let's have some perverted fun. Want to do a little whipping or something to warm up?"

"Ah ... I don't know," I said.

Paul pushed a finger into my pussy.

"Hmmmm," Paul said. "You're already warmed up."

"You look all warmed up too," I said, smiling down at Paul's full erect cock.

"Then let's do it," Paul said.

Paul went over to the secret panel door, bent down and opened it. I followed Paul through the hidden dungeon to the button cutter chamber. Paul opened the door. The lights were on and there was an older man and woman sitting in chairs against the wall.

I froze and felt the urge to cover up, but I resisted. I just stood naked in front of them.

The man and woman stood up. The man was dressed in an ill-fitting suit and the woman wore a simple dress with a flared skirt.

"This is Walter and Alicia," Paul said. "They don't speak much English, but Walter is a doctor and Alicia is a surgical nurse in the old country."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"They will wait outside," Paul said. "Just in case."

Alicia smiled at me as she followed Walter out of the chamber and closed the door behind.

Paul walked over to a table against the wall that had a strange looking apparatus sitting on it. It looked like a horizontally mounted globe. The globe was supported at both ends by large metal supports. There was crank on one end. A short tube extended from the bottom of the globe.

"This is the connector dispenser," Paul said.

Paul opened a door on the side of the globe.

"The connectors are in here in these balls," Paul said as he pulled on the balls out of the globe.

Paul popped the ball open to reveal one of the small connectors packed in foam inside the ball. Paul snapped the ball closed again and put it back into the globe.

"You spin the globe like this," Paul said turning the crank on the end of the globe. "Mixing up the balls."

Paul stopped the crank with the small tube at the bottom of the globe again.

"Then you pull this lever," Paul said, pulling a small lever next to the tube on the bottom of the globe. "It dispenses one ball."

A single ball dropped out of the tube onto the table.

"Kind of elaborate," I said.

"It's to make sure the choice is completely random," Paul said.

"I trust you," I said. "Or I wouldn't be here."

"Yes," Paul said. "But this was developed for high stakes wagers."

"Ah," I said. "I guess this is a high stakes wager."

"The stakes are high," Paul said. "But the odds of losing are very small."

"Small, but not zero," I said.

Paul popped open the ball on the table and took the connector out.

"This is my connector," Paul said. "You ready for your shot at my cock?"

"Absolutely," I said with a smile.

"You really want it, don't you," Paul said.

"I like it attached where it is," I said. "But if I win it, my lady bits will be safe. So yes I want it."

Paul walked across to the guillotine and inserted the connector into the base. He then walked around to the other side and slid his cock through the opening so the head extended just beyond the blade.

"You can tighten these straps," he said

I walked around and fastened a strap around each leg and another big strap that ran at waist level. I pulled the straps tight. There was no way Paul could pull his cock out at the last second now.

"Ok babe," Paul said.

I smiled at Paul strapped helplessly into the guillotine.

"I think I've got you just where I want you," I said.

I knelt down and kissed the head of Paul's cock. I could taste his precum. I ran my tongue once around the head.

"God Eve, you are a tease," Paul said.

"Just a kiss for good luck," I said as I stood up. "Besides you love to be teased."

I stood up and walked to the stand with the button. I smiled at Paul and opened the plastic cover over the big red button.

"Come on," I said. "I want that cock."

I pressed the button. Nothing happened. I pushed it again.

"Damn," I said.

Paul let out a deep breath.

"Come unfasten my straps," Paul said.

I walked over and released the straps. This was it. Now my clit and my whole sex life were in fate's hands.

"Go pick your connector," Paul said.

I walked over to the table with globe on it. I turned the crank a few times then let is stop. I pushed the lever and one of the balls fell out on the table. I picked up the ball. My fate was sealed inside it. I popped the ball open and picked up the connector. My stomach was getting tight. I needed to stop thinking and get this over. I walked quickly to the button cutter and plugged the connector into the base.

"Climb up on the table," Paul said.

I sat on the tilted table and swung my legs around the column with the blade. The table felt a little cold against my naked body. I slid down the table till my pussy met the column.

"Now I'm going to grab your clit and pull it through the clamps," Paul said.

Paul reached through and spread my outer vaginal lips to expose my clitoral hood. He grabbed my clitoral hood and pulled it forward as he closed the clamps. I slid down a little more so the clamp jaws could slide all the way to the base of my clit.

"Ouch," I said.

"The clamps hurt a little," Paul said. "But really nothing compare to the clothespin."

"I can stand it," I said. "Just get it over with."

"Got to strap you in first," Paul said.

Paul pulled a strap around my waist and tightened it up.

"There," Paul said. "All ready now."

Paul took his finger and rubbed my clit.

"That could be the last time you feel you clit," Paul said.

"Only one in fifty chance," I said.

"Actually it is one in forty-nine chance," Paul corrected me.

"Just push the button," I said.

Paul walked over to the console and flipped the plastic cover up.

"Here goes babe," Paul said. "Let's see if I get to add your love button to my collection."

I closed my eyes and held my breath. Nothing happened.

"Looks like you get to keep your love button this time," Paul said.

I opened my eyes again.

"Get me out of this thing," I said.

Paul released the clamps holding my clit and the strap around my waist. I slid back up the table and climbed off.

"How are you feeling," Paul said.

"Relived," I said.

I bent over and spread my vaginal lips to look at my clit.

"It's still there," Paul said.

"I know, just a little sore," I said.

"I'll go tell Walter and Alicia they can leave now," Paul said. "Then we can play."

I sat down in one of the chairs to relax. My clit was feeling better now. I gently spread my vaginal lips and touched my clit. It didn't seem sore anymore. I lay back in the chair.

Paul came back in with a bottle and some glasses.

"How about a glass of Champaign to celebrate," Paul said.

"Yes," I said.

Paul poured two glasses and handed one to me.

"A toast to you Eve," Paul said. "For having the courage to ride the button cutter."

"And to you," I said. "For having the courage to dare the guillotine."

Paul grabbed me and kissed me on the lips, his still hard cock pressed against my stomach. I reached down and grabbed his cock in my hand. I knelt down on the floor, held his cock up and ran my tongue from his balls all the way up to the tip.

I smiled up at Paul.

"There is more than one way to get your cock," I said.

"It's all yours babe," Paul said.

"Take a seat," I said.

Paul sat in the chair and spread his legs. I knelt between them and took his cock in my mouth, running my tongue around the head.

"When I'm through with this, I'll be a lot smaller," I said.

I slid Paul's cock in my mouth, running the underside of the head along my tongue. I gripped the shaft with my lips and set to work. I could already taste Paul's salty precum. I slowly bobbed my head up and down on his cock, keeping my tongue pressed to the bottom of the head. I could tell Paul was really excited already. His cock head was huge. I kept bobbing up and down faster and faster, keeping my tongue against the bottom of the head. Paul straightened his legs. I could feel his cock twitch on my tongue, and Paul's cum hit the back of my throat. Most time guy's cum just dribbles out on my tongue, but Paul was hot tonight. I slowed down, but kept running Paul's cock along my tongue as several more loads hit the back of my throat. Finally Paul pulled my head off his cock and collapsed in the chair. I swallowed quickly and whipped some cum from around my mouth. I got up and found my glass and took another sip of Champaign to clear my mouth.

"Eve, you are a cocksucker extraordinaire," Paul said.

"Thank you," I said.

"Your turn in the chair," Paul said.

I smiled and sat down in the chair. Paul knelt on the floor. I slid down in the chair and spread my legs wide. Paul went right to work on my clit with his tongue, and he kept at it. In a few minutes I was moaning. Paul kept licking my clit faster and faster. I resisted cumming as long as I could, but the tension got so high in my pussy that it just happened. I tightened by my muscles and let the pleasurable contractions rolled down my legs, across my stomach and even my arms. I pushed Paul away and placed my hand on my pussy to extract the last bit of pleasure as the tiny contractions faded away.

I slumped in the chair in post orgasmic nirvana. When I woke up Paul was pouring more Champaign.

"Hey, babe," Paul said. "You are fantastic. Want another glass of Champaign?"

"Sure," I said.

Paul handed me the glass and I took a sip.

"You really had a big one there," Paul said. "Makes you appreciate that little love button."

"Oh I appreciate it," I said.

"But still you were willing to risk it," Paul said. "You're an intriguing woman, Eve, a sort of kindred spirit. You live life to the fullest, and your not afraid to take some risks to intensive your pleasure."

"You took just as big a risk as I did," I said. "And you seemed pretty turned on by the experience too."

"I'm pretty turned on by you," Paul said.

"Oh, really," I said.

"You are one hot babe," Paul said.

"Mmmmm," I said looking down. "Is that why your cock is hard already?"

"Damn right," Paul said. "He wants you."

"Well, you still got the equipment," I said. "Take me."

Paul took my half full glass and set it on table.

Paul kissed me on my lips, and slipped a finger into my pussy.

"Hmmm," Paul said. "You are soaking wet already."

Paul went over to the table and pulled out a sleeping bag pad that was rolled up under it.

"I'm want to take you right next to the button cutter," Paul said.

He untied it and rolled it out on the floor in front of the button cutter.

I smiled and walked over to join Paul. I grabbed his cock and knelt down to kiss it. Then I lay down on my back, pulled my legs up and spread them wide.

"Come take me baby," I said.

Paul knelt down, spread my vaginal lips with his fingers and slowly slipped in his cock. It felt great to have it inside me. Paul began long slow strokes, his cock penetrating deep inside and then sliding back out. Paul started stroking faster, thrusting his cock all the way inside me, his body slapping against my thighs.

Paul stopped and smiled at me.

"I want to take you doggy," He said.

I got up on my knees facing the button cutter. Paul slipped his cock into me again, and started slowly stroking away. I began to moan.

"I love this cock," I moaned as Paul's body slapped against my butt.

Paul was pulling my body back and forth, my little breasts wiggling with the motion of my body. I reached back with one hand and started rubbing my clit. As Paul thrust harder and faster, I rubbed harder and faster.

Paul grabbed my hair and pulled my head up to face the button cutter as he cried out. I felt his cock pulsate inside me. I rubbed my clit harder and it exploded. My vagina contracted around Paul's cock.

"Oooohhh, god," I said as the contractions began to fade out.

Paul released my hair and I collapsed forward as the last little contractions rippled around Paul's cock. Paul pulled out of me and rolled off on the floor. I snuggled up next to Paul with my arm over his chest.

"That was great," Paul said. "You're the best."

I hugged Paul and held him tight against my body.

My mind drifted off and I fell asleep. I'm not sure how long we were on the floor asleep in each other's arms, probably only a few minutes. I woke up first. I didn't want to move because it would wake Paul, but I turned my eyes to check on Paul's cock. It was now resting limp between his legs.

Cocks are magic. They can be so soft and small. Then they can get so big and hard, shoot their stuff, and go back to being soft. That is just magical, and the release of tensions and pleasure they can bring is magical too. Yes, I can get the same physical release with my fingers. In fact the fingers can be physically more intense, but there is nothing like the emotional release of a cock depositing a shot of sperm inside me.





Chapter 7

I didn't see Paul again for many weeks. He did call several times, hinting at a repeat of our adventure with the button cutter, but I made excuses. I thought the button cutter should be a once in a lifetime experience. The first time was wildly erotic, but the second would be less and each visit with that toy compounded the risk. I wanted to live with the memories of that one night of kinky, erotic insanity.

It was a couple months later when Paul called me at work and asked if he could meet me for a drink after work. I was a little reluctant, but Paul was persistent, so I agreed.

I met Paul at a swanky bar downtown. I felt kind of out of place when I entered. Most people in the bar were very well dressed. They looked like lawyers, stockbrokers, or executives. Most were older men. There were only a few women, all sharply dressed in power suites or fashionable dresses. I looked around for Paul, but could not find him.

"Eve, over here," Paul said.

I turned toward the voice, and there was Paul in suite. I had looked right at him and not recognized him. I waved and found my way over to him.

"Glad you could make it, Eve," Paul said. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure, some wine?" I said.

"A glass of the Williams Selyem Russian River Pino for the lady," Paul said to a waitress nearby. "We'll be upstairs."

"I have a more private room," Paul said.

I followed Paul towards the back, and up a small stairs. On the second floor there were several numbered rooms. Paul walked up to one and unlocked it with a key.

"Don't worry," he said. "This is just so we can talk privately. Nothing else."

Paul opened the door. There was a small table, with a couple of chairs and a large couch.

"Have a seat," Paul said. "Your drink should be here in a minute."

"I never heard about these kind of rooms," I said.

"And you probably won't," Paul said. "They keep these rooms really low profile."

"I can see why," I said. "The box of Trojans over there kind of gives it away."

Paul laughed.

There was a knock on the door and the waitress came in with my wine. It was one of those big round wine glasses that just had a little wine on the bottom. I took a sip.

"This is really nice wine," I said. "You have good taste in wine."

"Thank you," Paul said. "I have good taste in women too."

I laughed.

"Most of the people downstairs probably think you are a hooker," Paul said.

"Why?" I said.

"Gorgeous young woman meets man here, goes upstairs," Paul said. "Put two and two together."

"Ah," I said. "Then you should be paying me rather than just buying me drinks."

"I'm here to invite you to a very special event," Paul said.

"What kind of event?" I asked.

"Well, I told you the guillotines are sometimes used for high stakes games," Paul said.

"I remember something about that," I said.

"But they have been used for another purpose too," Paul said. "The Royal Seal Selection Ceremony."

"What's that?" I asked.

"It is what the Skoptsy called it," Paul said. "When two or more people wanted the second or so called royal seal, they would take turns on the guillotines until chance selected one to receive it."

"And what is the royal seal?" I asked.

"The removal of the cock or clit, of course," Paul said.

"But there are no Skoptsy here, right?" I asked

"No," Paul said. "The ritual has been perverted as a sort of duel ... to settle an argument or defend your honor."

"A duel?" I asked. "Defend your honor? How does that defend you honor?"

"Well ... it is your willingness to risk you sexual bits that demonstrates your honor," Paul said. "Performing the ritual all the way till someone loses their bits demonstrates their honor."

"Wow," I said. "That sounds drastic."

"It is," Paul said. "Only been done a few times, but my crazy younger sister, Irina, and my even crazier cousin hate each other and have decided to settle it this way."

"Wow," I said. "Crazy way to restore your honor."

"Definitely," Paul said. "But the winner also has the satisfaction of taking the loser's bits."

"There are men I'd love to separate from their bits," I said. "But no way am I taking that kind of risk to do it."

"That's because you are not crazy, Eve," Paul said. "Irina has never gotten along with Roberto or his brothers. A couple of years ago, Irina won the cock from Eduard, Roberto's older brother. She was lucky, but she won if fair and square. Apparently, she has been teasing her cousin about his lack of equipment. Now Roberto has challenged my sister to get revenge."

"Your family is going to be completely cockles and clitless soon," I said.

"There definitely has been too much of it," Paul said. "But I cannot stop Roberto or Irina. They are going through with it. A very select audience is invited to watch the ritual. I've been asked to attend, of course. I was wondering if you would accompany me."

"Just to watch?" I asked.

"Well, there is one thing," Paul said.

"Which is?" I asked.

"There is a rule that no one can watch unless their bits are at risk," Paul said. "So to meet that rule there is a small risk."

"What risk?" I asked.

"If Irina loses her clit, one of the men will be picked to risk his cock on the guillotine," Paul said.

"And if your cousin, err ... Roberto, loses his cock," I said. "One of the women will risk her clit?"

"Yes," Paul said. "But the risk is even less than the night we played and this time you will definitely get to see the blade drop. Think about that. You will see a man lose his cock or a woman lose her clitty, de- sexed right before your eyes."

My heart was beating faster, but I tried to appear calm.

"It would be interesting," I said. "But risky."

"Come on, Eve," Paul said. "You know you want to be there when that blade slices off the sensitive bits. How many chances are you going to get to see something like that? Think about it, Eve."

"Maybe," I said. "When is this going to be?"

"Next Saturday," Paul said. "Can you come?"

"Well ... I'm not sure," I said.

"You're not sure you can come, or you're not sure you want to come?" Paul asked.

"Not sure I should come," I said.

"Why?" Paul asked. "Because you think it is too risky?"

"Yes," I said.

"It is insanely risking for Irina and Roberto," Paul said. "But for you it would be a tiny risk."

"If you add up lots of tiny risks they can become big," I said.

"That's true," Paul said. "If you did this every week, the tiny risks would add up, but this is a once in a life time thing. You won't have another chance like this. I mean you will really see a cock or clit sliced off. You don't want to miss that? The tiny risk just makes the whole thing more exciting."

Paul was right. I really wanted to see this. As long as the risk was small, how could I pass this up?

"But I'm not sure I have anything to wear," I said. "What's a girl suppose to wear to a Royal Seal Ritual?"

Paul laughed.

"You don't need to wear anything," Paul said. "That would be a big hit."

"Don't be silly," I said.

"Ok," Paul said. "I think a nice party dress would be good, something sexy..."





Chapter 8

I stood in front of the mirror admiring my figure in my new white party dress. It was the kind of daring dress that only a girl with more modest breast should wear. The V neckline plunged between my breasts all the way to my waist. I turned to see my bare shoulders and upper back. The bare back ended just below the waist, nicely accenting my butt. The skirt was tight and ended around mid-thigh.

The only problem with the dress was I could not bend over. If I did the shoulder straps that covered my breasts would fall forward to reveal my nipples. I would just have to be careful. The girl at the store had suggested some kind of adhesive pasties that would hold the straps against my nipples, but I decided to pass. Flashing my nipples to some strangers was the least I had to worry about today.

An hour and half later I was standing at Paul's front door in my heels, clutching my new black patent leather purse. I was excited, but my stomach was tight.

Paul opened the door.

"Hello, Eve," Paul said. "Wow, I love the dress."

"Thank you," I said smiling at him.

"Come on in," Paul said.

Paul led me into the living room. There were two other couples, but they were standing on opposite sides of the room.

"Everyone this is Eve," Paul said.

"This Tatevik and Dave," Paul said. "They are Irina's good friends."

I shook hands with Tatevik and Dave.

"And this is Diana and Ara," Paul said turning to the other side of the room. "They are Roberto's friends."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

I shook hands with Ara and Diana.

"So will you be rooting for Roberto?" Ara asked.

"I've never meet either Irina or Roberto," I said. "So I think I'm neutral."

"Then it is three for Irina, one neutral and only two for Roberto," Ara said. "Irina has an advantage."

"That assumes that I'm rooting for Irina," Paul said. "I'm neutral."

"Irina has annoyed you too?" Ara asked.

"Annoyed would be a mild word," Paul laughed.

"Well, I can see where Paul could get excited seeing a clit sliced off," Ara said. "But Eve, I expect, would rather see a cock come off, no?"

"To me it is seeing them risk it," I said. "Not seeing someone lose it."

"Ah," Ara said. "But would you be willing to risk it or are you strictly a voyeur?"

"I know about the risk," I said. "I came here anyway."

"Now that we are all here," Paul said. "Let's go down to the dungeon."

We all followed Paul down the back stairs, through the wine cellar, the secret doors and underground passages to the special room that housed the button cutter and her brother. Six comfortable chairs were arranged in front of the guillotines.

Walter and Alicia were waiting for us. They bowed as we came in, but did not say anything.

Paul and I took the center chairs with Ara and Diana to my right. Tatevik and Dave took the chair on the other side of Paul.

"Walter, could you go fetch Irina and Roberto?" Paul asked.

"Yes sir," Walter replied and left through the door.

Alicia came with a tray of wine glasses and offered us each one. I took a sip of the wine. It was sweet, but unlike any sweet wine I had ever tasted before. It was deep and rich, with a long after taste.

"The nectar of the gods," Paul declared.

The door opened and Walter came back followed by a man and woman wearing white robes. The woman was tall and thin. The man was short and not so thin. Beyond that, I could not tell much in the robes.

Paul stood up.

"Now that we are all here," Paul said. "We are ready to begin the ancient ritual. Let God select who shall be granted the Royal Seal."

Paul turned to face Irina and Roberto.

"Are you ready to consummate the ritual?" Paul asked.

"I am," said Roberto.

He opened his robe and let it fall to the floor. Roberto had a rather pudgy frame and a small, limp uncut cock.

"I am also," said Irina.

Irina let her rob gracefully fall to the floor as she stepped forward. Irina was thin, with wide hips and breasts much larger than mine, probably a C cup. Her pussy was completely shaved.

"Then let the ritual begin," Paul said.

Roberto went to the globe sitting on a table between the guillotines, turned the crank a few times. He pressed the lever and one of the balls fell out on the table. He pried it open, and plugged the connector into the guillotine.

Diana went to join him. She rubbed his cock with her hand and kissed him. Roberto's cock grew rapidly erect. Once erect the head poked out of the foreskin. It looked like a perfectly normal cock, not especially large, but not small either.

Roberto went around the back of the guillotine. Diana helped strap him into the guillotine. The head of his cock was sticking out through the front. Diana stepped back.

Irina was now standing at the button. She opened the plastic cover. Irina looked up at Roberto and pushed the button.

Nothing happened.

Roberto looked relieved. Diana quickly unstrapped him from the guillotine.

Irina cranked the globe a few times, and then pressed the lever to dispense one of the balls. Irina pried it open to find her connector. She walked over to the button cutter without hesitation and plugged the connector into the base.

Irina climbed up on the button cutter table and slide down to the cutter mechanism. Dave helped pull her clit and hood through the clamp. He pulled on Irina's clit causing some visible discomfort, and then pushed the lever to clamp it in place. From my seat I could see the bit of sensitive flesh extending out from the clamps.

Dave stepped back indicating that all was ready.

Roberto was now standing naked at the button console with a big erection. He opened the plastic door and looked at Irina.

"Say goodbye to your pussy," Roberto said as he pressed the button.

Nothing happened. The room was completely silent for a few seconds.

Dave went over and released the clamp. Irina pushed herself up and off the button cutter's table.

"Your turn now," Irina said.

Roberto cranked the glob five or six times before dispensing another ball. He pried it open and plugged the connector into the guillotine. Roberto walked around to the back of the guillotine and put his cock through the opening. Diana connected the straps that held him against the guillotine and then stepped away.

Irina was now standing next to the button. She looked directly at Roberto.

"Thank you for giving me you cock," she said.

Irina opened the plastic cover and pushed the button.

The room was silent. Nothing happened.

"In your dreams," Roberto said. "I'm taking your pussy now, you bitch."

"Try and take it," Irina said defiantly.

Irina went back over and climbed up on the button cutter. Dave pulled her clit through the opening again and closed the clamp. Then he fastened the straps around her that held her against the blade tower.

"I'm getting you pussy this time, bitch," Roberto said.

He flipped the plastic cover open and pushed the button.

Again, there was just silence. Nothing happened.

"Ha," Irina said. "Now I'm taking your cock."

Dave released the clamp and undid the straps while Roberto went over and cranked the globe for a long time before dispensing another connector ball.

I touched Paul on the shoulder and leaned over to him.

"How many balls are in the globe?" I asked softly.

"Started with ten," Paul said. "But if it gets below four, then one is added so there will always be four."

"Oh, ok," I said. "So it could go more than ten draws."

"Yes," replied Paul.

Roberto was now strapped into the guillotine again with the head of his cock sticking out through the guillotine. The cock head looked so funny sticking out that way. I tried to imagine what it would look like being sliced off and falling into the tray. I wondered it there would be much blood.

"Say good bye to your cock," Irina said. "It's mine now."

Irina lifted the cover and pushed the button. Nothing happened. There was several seconds of silence.

"Ha, no luck, bitch," Roberto said. "I'm taking your pussy this time. Only five balls left now."

"I'm not afraid," Irina said. "After you miss, there will be only four balls left and I will take your cock."

Irina gave the globe a couple of turns then pushed the lever to release her ball. While Diana released Roberto from the guillotine, Irina plugged her connector into the button cutter and climbed up on the table. Dave pulled Irina's clit through the opening and clamped it. Then he ran the straps around Irina's back.

"Ok, bitch," Roberto said. "Your pussy is mine now."

Roberto flipped up the plastic cover and pushed the button.

There was only silence. Nothing happened.

"Ha! My luck is running hot," Irina said. "Now I take you cock, stupid Roberto."

Roberto took a deep breath and walked over to the globe. He turned the crank for a long time before dispensing the ball with the connector. He walked over and plugged it into the guillotine.

Irina had been released from the button cutter and was watching as Roberto's cock head poked through the front of the guillotine.

"That cock is going to look good on my mantle," Irina said.

Diana finished strapping Roberto to the guillotine and step away.

I stared at the cock head. There was a one in four chance it would be sliced off and in the tray in a few second.

Irina flipped open the plastic cover

"Say bye to your cock," Irina said.

Irina pushed the big red button.

My heart was beating very fast, but nothing happened, just total silence.

"You missed, Irina," Roberto said. "Your luck has run out. I'm taking your pussy now."

"We need to add another ball now," Paul announced. "So let's take a short break."

Paul got up and went out of the room. In a moment he came back with Walter and Alicia. Alicia was carrying another tray of wine glasses.

While Alicia gave us another glass of the heavenly sweet wine, Walter got another ball and put it in the globe.

Walter and Alicia left again.

"Ok," Paul said. "We are ready to continue."

Irina went over to the globe and cranked the handle a few times, then pushed the lever. She pried the globe open and plugged it into the button cutter. Irina climbed up on the table and slid down to the blade column. Dave pulled her clit through the clamps and tightened them.

"Ok, bitch," Roberto said. "I'm taking your pussy now."

Roberto opened the plastic cover, and pushed the button.

There was a click and the blade of the button cutter dropped. Irina screamed. I saw the bit of flesh sliced away by the blade and drop into the tray.

Roberto ran over to the tray and grabbed Irina's clit from the tray.

"Look, you bitch," Roberto yelled. "I own your pussy now."

Walter and Alicia came through the door with a wheel chair. Dave released Irina from the button cutter. I could see blood running down her legs. Dave helped her into the wheel chair and they quickly pushed her out of the room.

"I've got yours now, bitch," Roberto said loudly as Irina was pushed out of the room.

"What did you think, Eve?" Paul asked me.

"Wow!" I said. "I mean ... just wow."

"It is pretty intense," Paul said. "You saw a woman's most sensitive bits sliced right off before your eyes."

"Yes, ... I did," I said. "I expect she will really miss it."

"She can come over to my house to see it," Roberto said with a smile.

Roberto was now wearing his robe again.

"Would you like to see it?" Roberto asked, holding out a bottle.

I took the bottle and looked at it. An oval piece of flesh was floating in fluid. I turned it over and I could clearly see the hood. Irina had really lost all of here clit.

"She will definitely miss it," I said handing the bottle back to Roberto.

"Ok, gentleman," Paul said. "We now must draw to see who will tempt fate in the guillotine."

Paul was holding a deck of cards.

"Eve, would you shuffle the deck for us?" Paul asked, handing me the deck.

I riffle shuffled the deck a few times on the table and then cut the deck.

"Ok, low card must take a chance on the guillotine," Paul said.

Paul drew a card.

"A seven," Paul said as he held it up.

Ara stepped up the table and drew a card.

"A jack," Ara announced holding up the card.

Dave pulled a card off the stack.

"An eight," Dave said. "Your girl friend didn't shuffle very well, Paul."

"I'm not his girl friend," I said.

"Just his date?" Ara asked.

"Yes," I said.

Paul was now over turning the globe.

"Interesting date?" Roberto asked.

"Very interesting," I replied.

"Perhaps more exciting for you if the outcome had been different," Roberto said.

"I think it is exciting just to see people take the risk," I said.

Paul plugged the connector into the guillotine and began to get undressed.

"Now you get to watch the excitement of your date risking his cock," Ara said.

"Yes," Roberto said. "You could end the evening with a cock-less date."

I laughed.

"Well, he still has a tongue," I said.

"Ah," Ara said. "A woman that knows what she wants."

"If the outcome were different," Roberto said. "It could be your love button going under the blade."

"I knew the risk," I said.

Paul was now naked. I went over to help strap him into the guillotine. Paul's cock was longer than Roberto's, so we had to make some adjustments to the spacer.

"Roberto," Ara said. "Who should get to push the button?"

"Eve, obviously," Roberto said. "A woman that knows what she wants would obviously want Paul's cock."

I walked over to the button console.

"Either way, you get Paul's cock tonight," Ara said.

"How many balls were in the globe," I asked.

"Ten," said Roberto. "So one in ten chance of getting Paul's cock to keep forever."

I flipped the plastic cover open.

"I really think his cock is more useful while still attached," I said. "But there are lots of nice cocks and how many girls own a cock in a bottle."

I pushed the button.

Nothing happened.

"No cock in a bottle for you tonight," Roberto said.

I walked over to release Paul.

"No problem," I said. "It was a win/win proposition."

Paul pulled his underpants back on and started to get dressed.

"So the only real risk you took was a win/win proposition," Ara said.

"I took the same risk as you," I said. "If results had been different, I would have been drawing a card."

"Yes, but this was only a small risk," said Ara. "You've never taken a real risk."

"I've been on the button cutter," I replied.

"But not at very risky odds," Ara replied. "The rest of us have all played Skoptsy poker at least once. I don't think you would play that."

"Skoptsy poker?" I asked.

"A high stakes poker game," Roberto said. "When you lose all your money, you have to go to the guillotine. The other players bid money for the chance to win your prize."

"Start with ten balls like tonight," Paul said. "Usually we only play five balls, so no one has to lose anything more than money."

"It's a real game of strategy," Diana said. "And not just the poker part. If you bid too much to press the button, then you won't have any money left, so you may be the next one going to the guillotine."

"Wow," I said. "That would be high stakes, but I don't know anything about poker."

"None of these guys know anything about poker either," Tatevik said. "That's how Irina was able to win Eduard and Vardan's cocks in the first place."

"Irina won two cocks?" I asked.

"Irina was just lucky," Roberto said. "But her luck ran out."

"That's why you challenged Irina," Tatevik said. "You knew she would take your cock at poker."

"Irina's been too lucky," Roberto said. "I knew her luck was about to change."

"Irina was way better than this lot at poker," Tatevik said. "And she had the spunk to accept your challenge too."

"She had balls," Roberto said. "I'll giver her that."

"What about you, Eve?" Ara asked. "Do you have balls?"

I laughed.

"I have spunk," I said. "But I'm not suffering from testosterone poisoning."

"So do you have the spunk for Skoptsy poker?" Ara asked.

"Don't know how to play poker," I said.

"It's easy to learn," Ara said.

"I could teach you how to play in a few minutes," Roberto said.

"Don't listen to these guys," Tatevik said. "They don't have a clue how to play poker."

"How about Skoptsy low card," Ara said. "You know how to draw cards?"

"What is Skoptsy low card?" I asked.

"Ara just made it up," Paul said.

"Just draw cards," Ara said. "Low card goes to the guillotine."

"Would the high card push the button?" Paul asked.

"Yeah," Ara said. "Well, highest woman for guys, highest guy for women."

"What about ties?" Tatevik asked.

"Ties for high or low card broken by dealing another card," Ara said.

"Maybe a separate draw for high card," Tatevik said. "Only for the players that want the trophy."

"That would be good too," Ara said. "Well, what about it, Eve? Do you have the spunk for Skoptsy low card?"

"I might," I said. "Depends on how many people were playing."

"There are six of us," Ara said. "Is that enough?"

"What?" I said. "You mean right now?"

"Yeah," Ara said. "Do you have the spunk to risk it right now?"

"We would have to get the button cutter cleaned up first," Paul said. "And we need to wait for Walter to finish sewing up Irina."

"Ok," Ara said. "That should only take an hour. So after everything is ready, are you up for it, Eve?"

"Ah... I'm still confused," I said. "I understand the low card part, but how many balls do we start with and how many are we drawing?"

"Start with ten, and draw five," Ara said. "That's how we play poker."

"Or we could make it a test of nerves," Roberto suggested. "Play as many balls as everyone dares. You could even end the game after the first ball, Eve."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It's like a game of chicken," Roberto said. "We play till somebody says we stop. If we get to less than four balls, then we add balls to always keep four in the globe."

"Anyone can say quit?" I asked.

"Yes," Roberto said. "The object is to see who is the first one to chicken out."

"And you're expecting me to chicken out?" I asked.

"I didn't say that," Roberto said. "I just want to see what you are made of."

"Well I'm a lot spunkier than you might think," I said. "I'm up for it, if everyone else is."

I couldn't believe I just said that. My stomach was tight. I looked around at everyone. There was only silence in the room.

"They are all players," said Ara. "So are we on, Eve?"

"Yes," I said. "I said I'd do it, if everyone else did."

"Then we are on," Roberto said.

"We will meet back here in say two hours," Paul said.

Everyone nodded.





Chapter 9

"You didn't have to let Ara and Roberto needle you into this," Paul said after we got to his bedroom. "You could have just declined."

"I'm not that kind of girl," I said.

"You can still call it off," Paul said.

"No," I said. "I'm not afraid. I'm going through with it."

"You could quit after the first ball," Paul said. "You don't have to take it all the way."

"You're getting worried about this," I said grabbing his crotch. "I could actually win it."

"Yes you could," Paul said. "Or you could lose your clitty."

"So let's give them a little work out," I said. "Just in case."

We quickly got undressed. I got down on my knees and took Paul's cock in my mouth. I ran my tongue around his cock head. I could already taste the precum. I got right to work, sliding the head of the cock along my tongue and gripping the shaft with my lips. It only took a minute or two for Paul's cum splashed against my throat. I slowed down but continued to run his cock along my tongue until Paul pushed my head away.

I stood up and kissed him with my mouth still full of his cum, his now soft cock pushing into my stomach.

I swallowed and pulled Paul over to the bed. I got comfortable on the bed and spread my legs wide with my knees up. Paul crawled up between my legs and kissed my thighs. He licked all around my pussy, just flicking his tongue occasionally across my clit. I gently pushed Paul's head down and he began to concentrate on licking my clit. I tightened my muscles to hold back the tension, to let it build higher and higher. I moaned barely able to resist the pressure in my clit. My pussy erupted. Spasms of pleasure rolled down my thighs and across my stomach like molten lava running along my tightened muscles. I cried out and twisted my body.

As the spasms subsided, I pushed Paul's head away. Paul crawled up the bed and kissed me. He took me in his arms and held me close as I basked in post-coital bliss.

I drifted in post orgasmic nirvana and completely lost track of time. It could have been a minute or many minutes. When I regained my composure, Paul was still out of it and in my arms.

"I think I should get cleaned up," I said. "I want my clit to look pretty if I have to ride the button cutter."

I climbed out of bed.

"Yes," Paul said. "It would be a shame for you to lose it but it would make a beautify trophy."

"Paul, you want to take my clit now?" I said turning back to face him.

"No, not at all," Paul said. "You seem determined to risk it, so if someone takes it, I would like it to be me."

"How romantic," I said. "You want my clit in bottle in your secret cabinet for eternity."

"I want it attached to you for eternity," Paul said. "My cabinet is just a second choice."

"Maybe your cock will be in a jar in my bedroom instead," I said.

Paul laughed.

"You are such a temptress, Eve" Paul said. "I can see you winning quite a collection."

Twenty minutes later we were back in the secret dungeon, dressed only in robes.

"Are we all ready to begin," Ara said.

Everyone nodded.

"It is a game of low and high card draw," Ara said. "Everyone draws one card. The person with the low card must go to the guillotine. All players that want to push the button then draw for the high card. The person with the highest card gets to push the button and wins the trophy, if there is one. After each round, any player may quit without penalty, therefore ending the game. There are ten balls in the globe. As usual, if we get down to four, a new ball will be added for each taken out. Everyone agrees?"

We all nodded.

"I have a proposal to make the game more interesting," Roberto said. "Why don't we add the wild cards to the deck? If you draw a wild card, then you can select who goes to the guillotine and you get to go for the trophy too."

Roberto was looking right at me as he finished. I knew he would select me, if he had the chance.

"I get the feeling I would be selected on every wild card," I said.

"Ok then," Roberto said. "The same person cannot be selected twice in a row."

Everyone was looking at me. No one else said anything. Roberto was trying to get me on the button cutter. Maybe they all were trying to get me on the button cutter.

"I could draw the wild card too," I said. "You're not worried about who I pick."

"Today is my lucky day," Roberto said.

"Ok, you're on Roberto," I said. "Try to take me, and we'll see who is lucky tonight."

"Does everyone else agree to the wild card rule?" Paul asked.

No one said anything. A few people nodded.

"Ok, then we are ready to begin," Paul said. "I will get a second deck. One with wild cards for the main draw, and a second without wild cards for the draw to push the button."

Paul grabbed another deck of cards from a draw in the table and shuffled the two wild cards into the deck. He then cut the deck and set it one the table.

"Ok, here we go," Paul said.

Paul drew the first card, a ten.

I was standing next to Paul and drew a five. I did not feel good about this, but hopefully someone