WARNING: This is a castration story. It contains both male and female castration. If castration is not your thing, then don't read it. It also contains violence, 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 fiction intended for mature adults. All persons and events in this story came strictly from my imagination. There is no relationship to any real person or events. Don't even think about trying any thing described in this story.

The C and C club

By Liana M

@(C) Copyright 2006 by Liana M, all rights reserved.

Inspector Lee stared at the young, attractive Chinese woman sitting in front of him. From what the detectives had said, the story she had written was unbelievable, but she claimed it was all true.

"I am Inspector Lee from Interpol," he said. "And you are Amy Hsu?"

The girl nodded meekly.

"I am here to investigate the story you wrote that you told the FSM detectives was true," he continued.

"It is true, basically," Amy said. "You can read the whole sordid thing."

Amy reached into her bag and handed a stack of paper to the inspector.

"It explains everything," Amy said. "Why I fled Porto Kanda and how ended up here in Macao."

The Inspector stared at the stack of papers. What he had heard was too incredible to believe, but then the reports arrived from West Africa. They closely matched the story the girl had written. She was so young and innocent looking. It just didn't make sense.

"I will read the story," Inspector Lee said. "Then I will probably have more questions for you."

The girl got up and left the office, followed by one of the local FSM officers.

Inspector Lee leaned back in his chair and began to read Amy's story.

I met John King at one of Ms Stamp's parties. In Porto Kanda Ms Stamps parties were the hot invitation. All the foreign workers in this West African port tried to angle an invitation to her parties. I had no trouble getting an invitation though. I was a single, attractive woman and they were always welcome. Nine out of ten foreign workers were men.

I remember meeting John in one of the upstairs post party groups. This one was for the more daring guests with kinky tastes. It was spanking that night. Everyone got spanked and everyone got to do a little spanking too. I'm not really all that into spanking, but I'm willing to take a good spanking for a chance to spank a guy's naked butt.

John took an immediate interest in me, and he had lots to recommend him. He came from a wealthy European family that controlled one of the big mining companies. His father still ran the company, but he was some kind of senior executive, probably being groomed to take over in a few years. He got my name and number, and unlike lots of men, he actually called me a few days later to arrange lunch at some swanky downtown restaurant.

The lunch with John went really well, and was follow that weekend by a real date. We went to diner, then to a very exclusive private club for some drinks. It was there that he popped the fateful question.

"How kinky are you, Amy?"

I've always figured that you only live once, and especially in this African boom town, your time could be up any day, so I've always lived my life a little closer to the edge than most. That's what I was doing here in the first place.

"You'd be surprised," I said with a smile.

"Really," he said. "So spanking it not the kinkiest thing you are into."

"Not at all," I said, stretching the truth.

"Have you ever heard of the High Tower club?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"It is a very exclusive club," he said. "They have some BDSM demonstrations tonight. Are you interested in dropping by?"

"Sure," I said. "As long as I don't have to do anything I don't want."

"Oh, you won't have to do anything," he said. "I'm a platinum member, so we can just enjoy the show."

The High Tower Club turned out to be a few blocks from the classy down town district and located in an old industrial building. We were lead to a large private balcony booth with a view of stage. I could not see the main floor of the club, so I couldn't tell how many people were there.

On the stage there was a woman fastened to a St Andrews Cross. She was wearing a one-piece leather outfit that failed to cover her naughty bits. A large man wearing only shorts was squeezing her breast and pinching her nipples.

A waiter brought us some drinks, and then left us alone.

The big man now had a flogger and was beating the women's breasts. She cringed with every stroke of the flogger. Her breasts were staring to look pinkish from the whipping. Then the man started to flog her pussy.

"You find that interesting?" John asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Would you be brave enough to let a man whip you there?" he asked.

I looked down at the woman. She screamed as the man twirled the flogger and landed a blow directly onto her most sensitive spot.

"Sure," I said. "I would let a man do that, if he was brave enough to let me whip his cock afterwards."

John laughed.

"Amy, you are the little devil," he said.

We watched the show for an hour or so. The acts lasted 15 to 20 minutes each. Most of the women were older and a little heavy. They endured spankings, breast bondage, nipple clamps, and whipping. There was an elaborate demo of advanced bondage techniques.

Out of the blue John asked, "So you'd like to whip some cocks?"

I looked at him confused. Was he offering to let me whip him?

"Sure," I replied.

"And you would be willing to risk getting your pussy whipped to do that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Have you heard of Carl Levitt?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. "Who hasn't heard of the riches man in Port Karina?"

"Well, Mr. Levitt actually lives on an island 20 miles off the coast," he said.

"Oh, really," I said.

"Yes," John said. "He bought the whole Island a number of years ago. He has a huge estate out there and every month or two he has a C & C club night."

"What is the C & C Club?" I asked.

"Officially, it is the Carl and Cathy club," he said. "Cathy was his wife, now deceased, but unofficially it is the Cock and Clitoris Club."

"The what?" I said in astonishment.

"The Cock and Clit Club," he said. "At the meeting everyone gets a chance to watch some cocks and clits being tortured."

"Wow," I said. "Is it legal to do that? I thought torture had been outlawed."

"When Carl bought the Island, he also bought the sovereign rights to it, so the island is its own country and Carl is the government. Whatever Carl says is legal."

"Interesting," I said. "Where does Carl find the men and women for these shows?"

"Ah, yes," John said. "That is the detail that makes the C & C club really exciting. If you attend one of the meetings, you have to take the chance that it could be you."

"What?" I said.

"Everyone is assigned a numbered badge when they arrive," he said. "When the time comes, they draw numbers to see who are the unlucky ones to provide the evenings entertainment."

"Oh," I said.

"Carl usually gets 30 or 40 couples for these parties" he said. "So the odds are pretty good."

"Only one person gets... ah.. tortured?" I asked.

"Usually one man and one woman," he said. "Sometimes they will pick a third person."

"Have you ever been tortured there?" I asked.

"Yes, I have," he said. "Eventually it is bound to happen."

"I would have loved to see that," I said with a big smile.

"I can see you would have enjoyed it," he said. "The question is, do you have the spunk and fortitude for it?"

"I'm a pretty spunky girl," I said.

"Then you would be willing to risk your pussy for the chance to watch cocks tortured?" he asked.

"Well, maybe," I said. "I'll think about it."

"Ok, you do that," he said. "The next party isn't for a few weeks."

After the evening at the High Tower Club and all the talk, I was hesitant to go back to John's place, but I finally did after he reassured me that vanilla sex was all he had in mind that evening.

John called a few days later to ask me out to dinner. At dinner, he quickly steered the conversation back to Carl Levitt's party.

"Have you thought any more about the C&C club?," John asked.

"Not really," I lied. I didn't want to admit I had fantasized about it.

"And here I thought you were fascinated by the idea," John said.

"Well, it is a fascinating idea," I replied.

"But not fascinating enough I guess," he said.

"I might be willing to go, if you answer some questions," I said.

"Sure, ask away," he said.

"What kinds of people come to these parties?" I asked.

"They come from the upper crust of society here," John said. "Carl would not have it any other way."

"I'm not exactly from the upper crust of Porto Kanda society," I replied.

"Oh, but you are Amy," he said. "You are one of the most beautiful young women in Porto Kanda."

"Well, thank you," I said. "But I didn't know that beauty put people into the upper crust."

"There are always exceptions for a young lady such as yourself," John said. "Carl would be happy to see such a lovely woman at his party."

"You mean he would be happy to watch my pussy tortured," I said with a smile.

"That too," replied John.

"Who actually does the torturing?" I asked.

"Oh, Carl has professionals do that," he said. "Sometimes they pick people from the audience to help, but it is always supervised by an experienced dominatrix."

"What kind of torture do they do?" I asked.

"It is up to the domme," he said. "It can include whipping, nipple clamps, clamps on your clit or cock, and electric stimulation."

"How severe is this torture?" I asked.

"It is very real," he said. "If you are unlucky enough to get picked, you will be sore for a few days, maybe a week at the outside, but no permanent damage is allowed and nothing that draws blood, like cutting."

"Well, that's good," I said. "I'm certainly not into cutting!"

"So does that answer you're questions?" John asked.

"All but one," I said. "How do I know the selections are not rigged?"

"Oh, that is very carefully controlled," John said. "When everyone arrives they are given a numbered badge, but the numbers are hidden under a flap, so no one can see them. When the time comes, there is a corner of the tag that you break off and drop into the ladies or men's bowl. These are all mixed up and then one is drawn out of each bowl. When the numbers are announced, everyone opens their badge to find out their number. Since no one knows anyone's number till after the drawing, there is really no way to rig the drawing."

"Oh," I said. "So everyone has an equal chance?"

"Absolutely," John said. "So does that answer you're questions?"

"Yes," I replied. "I can't think of any more right now."

"So what is your decision?" John asked. "Are you up for it?"

I thought for a minute.

"Well, you only live once," I said. "Yes, I think I am up for it."

With those words I launched myself into the dark, secret world of Carl Levitt.

Chapter 2

The party was not for a couple of weeks. I saw John a couple of times during those two weeks.

"Are you getting cold feet?" he would ask each time he saw me.

I was actually getting a little worried about what I was getting myself into, but I didn't want to let John know that.

"I don't think I have anything to wear to this party," I said. "What kind of dress is expected?"

"Oh, a nice party dress will be fine," he said. "You must have one of those."

"Only a Chinese party dress," I replied.

"You mean one of those tight dresses with the slits up the side?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "One of those."

"That would be perfect," he smiled.

Late Saturday afternoon John picked me up in my red Chinese party dress and we headed to his companies heliport for the 20-minute ride out to Carl Levitt's Island. I had pictured a small island with a big house, but it turned out to be huge island with a huge mansion surrounded by a village of smaller buildings. Many of these appeared to be living quarters for the workers, but some were clearly barns and similar buildings.

We landed on a large clear field that was miles from the village. There were several other helicopters already sitting in the field. Several safari style jeeps were waiting to take us to the main house. When we arrived at the main house, John helped me out of the jeep. It was the largest house I had ever seen. We walked into the huge front area with a large spiral staircase leading up the second floor. The party was in a large room off this foyer.

There were already about 20 people there. As we entered we were handed badges, which we put on. The badges were black, with no markings on them at all. One end of the badge was detachable. That would be the part we would put in the bowl when the time came.

The room was very large, and with only 20 people, it seemed empty. At the far end of the room were 2 rather strange looking chairs, which I assumed were for the night's main attraction.

Most of the women here were dressed in formal, floor length party dresses, though a few had shorter dresses. The men were mostly dressed in suites, like John. Many of the people were wearing masks.

"What's with the masks?" I asked nudging John.

"Oh, those are big shot business people or politicians," John said. "They don't want to be recognized, although most of us know who they are anyway."

Looking around the big room, this looked like the strangest party I had ever seen. There were a couple of small groups of 2 or 3 couples that were chatting, but otherwise the couples were just talking to their partner. It looked more like a group of strangers waiting on the platform for a train to arrive. The main difference was these couples were more elegantly dressed.

Every few minutes another couple or two would arrive. I notice a board range of ages, but most were older. It looked to me like John and I were among of youngest couples there.

"Is there some rule about not talking to each other?" I asked John.

"No, not really," John said. "But most people are nervous. Worried about getting picked. Worried about being recognized. Worried about getting in trouble. Things will loosen up after the drawing."

"Aren't you worried about being recognized?" I asked.

"Not really," John said. "The masks don't really hide who you are. I know who most of the masked people are. What really protects you here is that all the most important people in Porto Kanda are here. None of them would dare make a fuss over this, because it would mean their skin too."

"You really know who all these people are?" I asked.

"Sure," John said. "See the tall black man over there with women in a red dress?"

"Yes," I replied.

"That is the Porto Kanda security chief," he said.

"Oh," I replied.

"If anyone were to complain, he would be the one to investigate," John said. "And given this Island is really a separate country, nothing would ever come of it. That fat black man with the young woman in a black dress is the mayor."

I causally looked in the direction John nodded without being too obvious, and saw the older fat man standing with a stunning, young African girl in a tight fitting floor length black dress with a plunging neck line.

"The mayor has a very young wife," I said.

"That is not the mayor's wife," John said. "I'm not sure who she is. Maybe one of his mistresses."

"Oh," I said.

"See the man over there with the women in white," John said.

I glanced in that direction and spotted a short, middle-aged white man with a younger woman in a dramatic white dress. It looked like the top of two- piece bathing suite had been fastened by a narrow swath of material in the center to a straight skirt.

"That is the head of organized crime in Porto Kanda," he said.

"Who is that with him?" I asked.

"Not sure," John said. "Probably one of his girl friends."

I nodded.

"You see with both the government and the underworld leaders here," John said. "Anyone who tried to get someone in trouble for attending this party, would not get very far."

"I suppose," I said.

I looked around again and turned back to John.

"Is Carl Levitt here?" I asked.

"Carl is very old," John said. "He has not actually attended any of the club nights in quite a few years. Some people say his health is not very good, but he still likes to host the parties."

John leaned closer so he could speak in a low voice.

"I suspect he is watching on camera," John said. "Even though there is a strict rule against cameras."

I nodded.

Just then a man entered followed by two workers carrying a strange contraption and portable stands. They set the stands up at the far end of the room, and placed the device on it. The device had two clear plastic bowels fastened at either end of a shaft. In the center was a support stand that I assumed had a motor to rotate the bowels. Each bowel had a door that could be opened and the bowels were rotated to put the door on the top. The man cleared his throat.

"Ladies and gentleman," he said. "It is time to start the evenings festivities. All the ladies can deposit their badge tags in the bowl to the left, and gentlemen in the bowl to the right."

The couples formed a line walking past the bowels, breaking off the tags from their badges and depositing them. As I dropped my tag in the bowel, I felt a knot in my stomach.

After all the couples had dropped their tags in the bowels, the doors were closed, and a switch was thrown. The bowels rotated slowly and the plastic tags rattled around inside the bowels.

Everyone stood watching. I am not sure how long the bowels spun, but it seemed like hours.

"How long is this going to go on," I asked.

"This is the best part," John said. "The ultimate moment of tension, just before you find out if tonight is your night."

Finally, the bowels were turned off.

"First, we will draw then men's number," the man announced.

He reached into the bowel and pulled out a tag. Then he flipped the tag open.

"The gentleman's number is 137," he announced.

John fumbled with his badge and flipped it open to reveal 143. He looked relieved.

A groan came from across the room. Two big African security guards pushed through the people and grabbed the man by the arms to escort him to one of the strange chairs. He was a slightly overweight, middle- aged white man. He was not wearing a mask.

"Do you know him?" I asked John.

"I think he works at the National bank," John said. "But I don't really know him."

When the man's clothes were off, the security guards fastened him into the chair. The chair had two extensions to hold the legs that went out at an angle so the occupant's legs would be held wide apart.

"Now we will pick one of the ladies," the man said.

This was it. He reached into the other bowel and pulled out a tag. He slowly pried it apart with his fingernails. My heart was beating rapidly.

"The ladies number is 18," he announced.

I started prying at my badge trying to get it open. Finally my fingers forced it open. The number was upside down and hard to read, but looked like 52. Definitely not 18. I looked around to see who had 18.

A woman began screaming behind me. I turned to see who it was. The woman was short, and I had trouble seeing her through the crowd, but the security guards quickly got her to the front. She looked to be around 30 and was very attractive, although she was wearing a mask.

"It is the daughter of Jack Walsh," John whispered to me. "He owns much of the farm land north of here."

I nodded.

She was also stripped naked, but kept her mask. She was strapped into the other chair with her legs spread wide. The woman turned out to be shaved down below. My guess was it was a wax job.

It occurred to me that I had never thought of shaving in case I lost. I wondered if this woman had gone in for a Brazilian wax just in case. I'm sure a Bikini wax would be less painful than what she was about to experience, but still it is a sort of voluntarily self punishment just on the off chance you get a real punishment.

Suddenly people started cheering. I looked around see the cause, and I saw the dominatrix walking up to the front of the room. She was dressed just the way I had always imagined, in a leather outfit with thigh-length high-heeled leather boots. The leather outfit was almost a two-piece affair, but a narrow strand of leather fastened the top and bottom together. She carried a short whip and a bag of equipment.

"And now ladies and gentleman the C and C club presents Madam Liu," the man said.

Madam Liu got out her equipment and set it on the floor and then proceeded to inspect tonight's two subjects. She first ran her whip slowly around the man's hard cock. I found it surprising that this middle age man was so hard, knowing what must be going to happen soon. She inspected the woman, running her whip smoothly over her labia, clitoris and up around her breasts.

"Now lets see what you two are made of," Madam Liu said.

With that she snapped her whip right into the woman's pussy. The whip had many strands and it was hard to tell exactly where they landed but the women let out a scream like they had found some sensitive spot.

"Ah, so you are a good screamer," Madam Liu said. "Let's see about this man."

She walked over to the man and snapped her whip at the man's cock. The strands of the whip wrapped around the man's cock and he let out a loud scream.

"Ah good, two screamer," Madam Liu said. "I always love to do screamers."

She snapped her whip again at the man balls and cock. This stroke mostly hit his balls and didn't seem to extract as much of a reaction, but the next stroke found the cock head again and got a loud scream out of the man.

She circled back to the woman and landed another stoke directly on woman's pussy, with a resulting scream. She landed a third and a fourth blow, with the fourth blow clearly finding a very sensitive spot from the woman's loud cry.

Then she snapped her whip on the floor making a loud cracking sound that causes both the man and woman to jump in their chairs, even though neither had been hit.

She picked up a cloth bag off the floor and pulled out some clothespins.

"Let's see how you like these," she said.

She walked over to the man and started fastening the clothespins to his balls. Then she attached several to the sides of his cock. The man groaned when each of these was attached.

"And now for the most sensitive spot," she said.

She attached two clothespins to the underside of the tip of the cock. With each of those clothespins the man screamed, and his cock began to shrink under the pain.

Then she went over to the woman. First she pulled the labia flaps back and began attaching clothespin to them, three on each side.

"And now for your most sensitive spot," she said. "And unlike many of these men here, I know exactly where it is."

A laugh went through the room.

She pushed back the hood to really reveal the clitoris and then clamped a clothespin directly on to it. The woman let out a blood-curdling scream.

She cracked her whip on the floor again.

"Now lets see how long you two can stand that," she said.

She slowly circled around each of the chairs cracking her whip on the floor at random intervals. Both occupants of the chairs were now in obvious pain. John pushed me forward, closer to the front. Everyone now seemed to be edging forward trying to get a closer look at the clothespins. John seemed most interested in the woman and pushed towards her side of the room. As we got closer I could see a bit of the woman's clit sticking out from under the clothespin clamped onto to it. The woman was clearly in extreme pain. She was moaning and twisting her body, trying to find some position that lessened the pain. I looked over at the man. His cock had now shrunk and was hanging limp, as if deflated by the clothespins. His body twisted and struggled in silent agony.

After what seemed like a long time to me, and must have seemed like an eternity to the naked couple in the chairs, Madam Liu began to slowly remove the clothespins. She started with those on the man's balls, slowly and expertly removing each one, then working up the shaft, removing the ones from the side of the cock. She left the two that appeared the most painful for last. Then in one quick motion, she snatched the two away from his cock head. You could see the obvious look of relieve on his face. Madam Liu held up his limp cock to show the bluish bruises on the underside of the head.

"That looks pretty bad," I whispered to John.

"Just temporary," John whispered back. "It will fade quickly."

Madam Liu then moved over to the woman, and began slowly removing the clothespins from the labia. Finally, only the one on the clit remained. She flipped the clothespin back and forth a few times, before finally removing it. The woman seemed to collapse back on the chair with her eyes closed in relieve. Madam Liu pulled back the hood on her clit to show the bruising around her clit.

"That definitely looks bad," I whispered to John.

"It will fade," John replied.

Madam Liu dropped the clothespins back in the bag, and picked up a strange looking device. It had a big solid handle with a power cord and a funny shaped glass tube that flared out at the end like a mushroom head. She plugged the cord into a plug strip and flipped a switch on the handle. The device sprung to life with a loud buzzing sound and the glass tube glowed with an eerie purple light.

"Now we will see how you like this," Madam Liu said.

She waved the purple glass tube around the man's cock a few times, then touched his thigh with the end of it. I could see sparks jump to the man's skin and he gasped in pain.

"That was just to give you a taste of what it is like," Madam Liu said.

Then she touched the man's balls with the end of tube. The man screamed and his body recoiled or tried to recoil from the device.

"Now you start to appreciate it," she said.

After the man stopped squirming from the previous shock, she brought the glass tube close to the cock head until a spark jumped onto the head. The man screamed in pain, and struggled against his restraints to get away from the device.

"What is that thing?" I asked John.

"Violet wand," John replied.

That didn't really tell me much, but I decided to wait for later.

Madam Liu walked over the woman.

"I haven't forgotten about you," she said.

She touched the wand against the woman's thigh, and she screamed and tried to pull her leg away.

"Now let's see what you are really made of," Madam Liu said.

She pushed the wand up close to the woman's labia lips till a spark jumped from the glass tube. The woman screamed again and her hips thrust up into the air trying to get her body away from the wand.

Madam Liu waiting patiently for the woman the settle down and relax again. Then she reached out and zapped the woman's clit. The woman let out an agonizing scream that was so loud even far away neighbors would have heard, if we had not been on an Island 20 miles from shore.

The woman trashed around on the chair, straining at her bounds, before settling down again in exhaustion. Beads of sweat were running down her forehead.

Madam Liu turned off her wand and packed it away in the bag.

The man who had presided over the drawing now walked back out between the chairs.

"Now, ladies and gentleman," the man said. "I am told there are a number of first timers here tonight. We always like to see new faces here, and to encourage you to come back and see us again, we would like to offer you the opportunity for some personal instruction from Madam Liu on the proper way to whip a cock or pussy. Any new comers interested, come right on up."

I looked at John.

"Should I?" I asked.

"Go for it, Amy," John said.

I walked up to the front. It turned out there were 3 other women who were first timers, but no men.

"Ok, ladies," Madam Liu said. "The secret to whipping is all in the wrist. You have to snap the whip and just the right distance from the target. If you are too far away, you will miss completely. If you are too close, the whip will hardly have any effect. To get that satisfying scream from your victim, you have to get it just right."

Madam Liu then reached into her bag and handed each of us a whip.

"Now ladies," she said. "I suggest you practice hitting the legs of the chair with the whip."

The four of us spread out around the two chairs and started practicing with the whip. I could see the dread in the man's eyes as our whips began to make noticeable cracking noise as they struck the chair.

"Ok, ladies," Madam Liu said. "Now you are ready to try your whips on live targets."

The man rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming next.

"You will all get a chance to try your hand at both," the Madam said. "So two here and two over there."

Madam Liu waved me over towards the woman's chair.

"Now you only get one chance at the target," Madam Liu said. "So make it good."

I was first in line so I carefully tried to judge the distance. I was not sure how I felt about whipping another woman pussy. That could just as easily have been me there on the chair. Still it would be good practice.

I brought my arm back and tried to snap the whip into the woman's pussy. My distance was pretty good. The whip landed with a loud snapping sound, but my aim was not that good. I missed a few inches to the right. Still the woman cried out in response.

I went over to get in line for the man. I found the thought of whipping a guys cock much more exciting. The women in front of me did a pretty good job of hitting the man's cock and got very satisfying reactions out of the man. When it was my turn I carefully lined myself up and snapped the whip as hard as I could. The ends of the whip wrapped around the head of the cock with a loud crack. The man screamed and swore at me.

"Very good," Madam Liu said. "He won't forget that soon."

I gave Madam Liu back the whip and looked around for John. I spotted him and went to join him again.

"What do you think?" John asked.

"That was great," I said. "I never knew that whipping a guys cock could be so much fun."

"You really are a little devil," John laughed.

"You like to live dangerously?" I asked with a smile.

"Depends," John said.

"Ladies and gentleman," the host said. "That concludes the main activities for the night, but you are free to say as long as you like tonight, and there are many smaller rooms available for private groups. Have fun, and play safely."

I looked at John and he looked at me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Just then another man walked up, looked at me, whispered something in John's ear, and then walked away.

"Well, would you like a chance to whip some more cocks?" John asked.

"Of course," I replied. "But from your smile, I think there must be a catch."

"Some people are trying to organize a Roshambo game," John said. "Otherwise known as Rock, paper, scissors."

"Oh, I played that as a child," I said.

"Have you heard of the strip version," John said.

"Yes, it is all the rage in Japan, I hear," I replied.

"Yep," John said. "But this is a little different. When you strip someone, you get to whipped their cock or clit."

"Wow," I said, not sure what to think of this. "How exactly does this work?"

"In the past they line up the ladies in a circle," John said. "Then they line the men up in a circle outside the ladies. You throw one rock, scissors, paper hand with the person opposite you. Loser has to remove an article of clothing, but on a tie, no one removes anything. Then all the men rotate one lady to the right, so each throw is against a different opponent."

"Oh, interesting way of playing," I said.

"If you strip your opponent," John continued. "You get to whip his cock, and you are then both out of the game."

"And if somebody strips me?" I asked.

"They get to whip you pussy," John replied.

"So it's like a 50-50 chance," I said.

"Yep," John replied. "Either you get to whip a cock, or you get your pussy whipped."

"That is a bit more risky than just coming here," I said.

"Ah," John said. "But the reward is much greater."

"How so?" I asked.

"Normally here all you get to do is watch cocks and clits being whipped and tortured," John said. "You don't get to do the actual whipping yourself. You were lucky they let the first timers do it tonight. They only do that sometimes, and you will never be a first timer again."

"Oh, I see," I said. "So, what you're saying is if I want to whip another cock, I have to risk my naughty bits."

"Yep, you got it," John said.

We stared at each other for what several seconds.

"Well, what do you think?" John asked. "Are you up for it?"

I knew I was in over my head. I should get out of here now, but I couldn't help myself.

"I don't know," I said, playing hard to get. "Sounds risky."

"This is what separates the mere voyeur from the true adventurer," John said. "Are you going to just watch life go by or are you going to live it to the max."

"Hmmm..., well maybe," I said.

"Come on Amy," John said. "What is the worst that could happen? Your pussy might be a little sore tomorrow. That's all."

"Ok," I said. "Let's do it."

I let my desire pull me down to the next level of the dark, secret world of Carl Levitt.

Chapter 3

John led me out of the main hall towards the back of the house. We went down a hall that leads to a small room. There were four other couples there already. John nodded to several of the other couples.

"We are waiting to see if more people are coming," John whispered to me.

I nodded. The room was small. There would not be room for many more. Fortunately, only one other couple arrived a minute later. One of the men shut the room door.

"Ladies form a circle in the middle," the man announced. "Gentlemen, form a circle around the ladies and opposite your partner."

I moved to the center and John stood opposite.

"Now everyone gets four pieces of clothing only," the man announced.

Some of the men kicked off their shoes, but I needed them to make four.

"Ok, on three, everybody ready?" he said. "One, ... Two, ... Three."

I figured John for rock, so I threw paper, and John lost his shirt. He scowled at me and the men rotated clockwise.

I had been good at this game as a young girl. I could get into the other kids heads and guess what they were going to throw pretty well. I might have been able to beat John easily, but the other men were completely unknown. It was not going to be easy. I concentrated hard, trying to always remember what my next opponent had thrown against the previous woman. Before John made it back around one of the women was stripped. The man who stripped her led her away to the next room and the game continued with only 5 couples.

I was in my bra and panties when John came back around, but all he had left was his boxer shorts.

His eyes seemed to be begging for mercy. I figured he did rock last time, and I beat him with paper, so he would go for scissors. I threw rock and so did he, so neither of us lost anything, but another woman and a man were stripped and went off to the other room. That left just three couples.

The next throw I lost my bra. Now I'm not really shy, but my breasts are small compared to the other women. I unfastened my bra and tossed it aside, proudly showing off my firm, perky breasts and my hard nipples. John had lost his shorts and was being lead away by a woman. There were now just 2 couples left.

I wasn't sure what to do and threw scissors. Fortunately my opponent threw paper, and lost his undershirt. The woman next to me lost her panties and was lead away, so it was just this middle-aged man in his boxer shorts and me in my panties.

I would expect him to throw rock or scissors, but I had no idea which one. I threw paper and so did he, so we tied.

Now what? If he were expecting scissors, he would throw rock. I threw paper again, and he threw rock. I won!!

The man pulled off his shorts looking very disappointed. His cock was partially erect.

I lead him through the door into the next room. There were three of the chairs like we had used earlier the evening. I lead the man to the one empty chair and locked his legs and arms to the chair. Then I got the whip.

"Don't forget to start the timer," the man protested.

I hit the timer button and reached back and delivered my first blow. The whip wrapped around the man's erect cock and he let out a scream. My next blow I aimed at his balls. Although it made a nice sound, the man's cry was not as loud.

I decided the cock was the best target. I tried to snap the whip onto the head of his cock, but missed completely. I adjusted my position a little closer and tried again. This time I found the mark. The man let out a howl. I snapped several more quick stokes into the head of his cock as the man screamed for mercy. I could see the head of his cock starting to have red streaks from my whipping.

I tried to get as many strokes in as I could before the timer went off. I alternated between aiming at the shaft and at the head. Most of them found their mark. The man's cock was looking very red, but his cries had subsided. He seemed reconciled to his fate.

When the timer went off it startled me. I was concentrating on inflicting the most pain I could before the time was up and had not been watching the timer. The man seemed to relax. I unlocked his legs and hands. He stood up and gently gripped his cock.

"God, I'm going to be sore for a week," he said.

"I'm sure you would have done the same to me," I said. "Had things been reversed."

"True," he said.

I looked around for John. He was on the other side of the room, trying to get into his under shorts. From the look of it he had a very sore cock too. I went over and joined him.

"You look a little sensitive there," I said.

"Ah, you can say that again," John said.

"I think it's time to go," I said.

"Definitely," John said.

I went to find my clothes and get dressed again. I noticed that my panties were rather moist and I wondered if people had noticed.

On our helicopter ride back to Porto Kanda John asked, "Did you have a good time."

"Oh, definitely," I said. "But it was a close thing. I just took a chance and guessed right at the end."

"You are a very lucky girl, Amy," John said. "I couldn't help but notice the moist spot on your panties."

I blushed. He had noticed. Had everyone else too?

"Nothing to be ashamed of," John said. "But I think I'm too sore to help you out tonight. I hope you will excuse me."

I nodded.

"Oh," John added. "I won't be upset if you go pick up some guy and boink his brains out. Just sorry I can't do that for you."

When we arrived back in Porto Kanda, John excused himself and asked his driver to take me wherever I wanted to go, which was to my apartment. I was really horny, but I had toys and knew how to take care of myself. I didn't need a drunken sailor to help me out. I can never remember wanting it over and over like that night. Fortunately, I had extra batteries.

Chapter 4

After the party John didn't call for almost a week, but when he did he was very horny. He took me out to dinner, but then quickly back to his place. As soon as we got inside he started undressing me. He seemed to be all recovered from our adventures on Carl Levitt's island.

"So Amy, what do you think about the C&C club?" John asked, as we lay together naked on his bed relaxing afterwards.

"I had fun," I said. "But I might have felt really different if I had been on the receiving end of that whipping."

"Believe me," John said. "You would have felt really different. You would have been sore for a couple of days, but that is what gives it the adrenaline rush. If it didn't really hurt to lose, it wouldn't feel so great to win."

"I guess that is true," I said.

"How else are you going to get men to let you whip their jewels like that?" John asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"Would you like to go again?" John asked.

"I'm not sure," I said. "The main party was fine I guess. The odds there are not that bad. I just don't think I want to take another chance like that after party game again. It was fun to whip that guy, but once is enough."

"I think there is more to it than just whipping a guy," John said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The last hand we threw against each other," John said. "You were in your underwear. I could already see a little moist spot on your panties."

"No," I protested.

"Yes, I saw it," John said. "But nothing to get upset about. Most of the other women were the same way."

"Really?" I said. "I didn't notice."

"It is the thrill of taking the risk that turns you on," John said. "The consequences of losing being really, really painful, is what makes the rush of playing so intense and the high from winning incredible."

"Maybe," I said. "I've never really thought of it that way."

"Who knows when Carl will have the next party," John said. "The schedule is very irregular, but I bet you will join in the after party games again. You are too much of adrenalin junkie to pass them up."

"We'll see," I said.

"I hope we do," John said.

I saw John a few times the following week, and then he had to go to Europe on a business trip, and I did not see him for several weeks. John seemed to travel a lot on business. When he was in Porto Kanda, he would always call, but I sometimes did not hear from him for weeks.

About seven months after the first C&C party, John called. He said he was in town for a few days and asked me out to dinner. I agreed of course. We had a lovely dinner, then went to disco club for an after dinner drink and some dancing.

After a few dances, we were catching our breath.

"They have a very special exhibition tonight at the High Tower Club," he said.

"Really, what kind of show?" I asked.

"It is a really intense display of submission, and strictly a one time thing," he said. "Not for the squeamish, but something I think you might get a kick out of watching."

"Well, what is it?" I asked.

John looked around to see if anyone was listening to us, then leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Branding," he said.

"What?" I said in astonishment.

"Quiet, keep you voice low," John said. "Haven't you heard of it."

"Yes, of course," I said. "But for cows or maybe sheep. Are you talking about branding people?"

"Yes," John whispered. "It's something a true sub can do for her master."

"Wow," I said. "That is definitely not something I would ever do for anyone."

"You are not a sub, Amy," John said. "Far from it."

"I'm glad you have that straight," I said. "Just don't think you can trick me into doing it."

"No way," John said. "I would never think of something like that."

We took a cab a short distance to the High Tower Club again. We were lead up to the same box as before, and settled in with a couple of drinks.

There was a pretty standard breast bondage demonstration going on the main stage. The middle-aged woman with large breasts had them wrapped many times with rope. Her breast began to turn purple. Then nipple clamps were applied to her breasts and the woman cried out in pain.

After that demonstration was finished, they moved some new equipment on to the stage. One of these was some kind of tall padded bench. Next to it they rolled out a gas burner.

A man came out on stage wearing only a leather belt with a leather flap in front and back to provide a little modesty. He carried two things that looked like branding irons. Each one had a single letter on the end. He put them both in the burner and left the stage.

After a few minutes a naked, collard young woman was lead by a leash onto the stage. She was thin, light skinned, with small breasts. She looked like she was of North African descent. She stood next to the tall bench, her head bowed.

A fully dressed man then came out and asked the young woman her name and age. She said she was 24. He then asked her if she had willingly agreed to be branded. Her reply was almost inaudible, but she said yes.

The man with the leather waistband returned to the stage. He had the woman bend over the padded bench. He securely fastened her legs into manacles on the end of the bench. Then he pushed the woman's body down on the padded bench and stretched her hands down to some leather cuffs on the other end of the bench. He carefully tied each of the girl's hands to the end of the bench. Then he ran another leather strap around the woman's body, fastening her midsection to the bench. This was followed by two more leather straps around the woman's thighs, firmly attaching them to the legs of the bench.

The young woman was now completely strapped to the bench and could only wiggle slightly. As the man stood up and turned towards the burner, I caught a sideways glimpse inside his front flap. I couldn't see any penis or balls between his legs!

I looked at John.

"That man has a very small cock," I said.

"He's a eunuch," John laughed.

The man on stage had taken one of the branding irons out of the burner. It was glowing red-hot.

"A eunuch?" I asked.

"Well, a complete eunuch." John said. "Both the balls and penis were removed. It's sometimes called nullification."

The man was holding the branding iron. He seemed to be letting it cool down.

"Why on earth would a man have that done?" I asked.

"It's a long story," John said.

The man carefully lined up the letter with the woman's left buttock. Then pushed the branding iron firmly into the woman's buttock. The woman let out a scream, as the man pulled the branding iron away. The woman's body struggled violently against the straps, and her screams continued. The man put the branding iron into a barrel.

I could smell the faint order of burned flesh even up in the balcony booth.

"Wow," John said. "What do you think of that?"

"That woman must be truly devoted to her master to go through that for him," I said.

The woman had now stopped struggling and was lying limp on the bench as she sobbed.

"You won't catch me doing that for anyone," I added.

The man lined up the second letter with the woman's buttock, and then pushed the branding iron into her flesh next to the first.

The woman screamed again and her body violently struggled against her restraints. The man quickly pulled away the second letter and dropped it into the barrel.

"That is intense," John said.

I nodded my agreement.

"I just don't understand why a woman would put herself through that," I said.

The woman was now sobbing loudly. The audience was beginning to applaud. I clapped my hands too. I was applauding the woman's courage to go through with this. I'm not sure what everyone else was applauding.

"I hope you have no plans of putting your initials on me," I said.

"A tattoo possibly?" John asked with a smile.

"My mother told me only prostitutes and loose women get tattoos," I said.

"Really," John said. "A woman from the old school. Does she know you like to whip men's cocks?"

"No, definitely not," I said. "There are things I don't tell her."

"Then you can get a tattoo on your derriere," John said. "It's not like you have to pass a full body inspection."

"Never liked tattoos," I said. "They look good when you are young, but 20 years later they make you look old. A woman has enough trouble looking young. I don't want to worry about my tattoos too."

"I wasn't serious,' laughed John. "I have no desire to see my initials on your tooshie."

"But somebody here is very serious about seeing his initials on her tooshie," I said.

"Yes indeed," John said. "Each to their own. I'm a thrill seeker, a risk taker. To be good at business you have to be a risk taker. You have to know when to take a risk and when to walk away, when the cost of losing is less than the value of winning."

"Ah," I said. "The cost of getting your cock whipped raw is less than the value of whipping some unlucky ladies pussy raw?"

"Yes," John said. "Absolutely, but you left out the most important part, the adrenalin rush from putting my cock on the line. You can understand that. You experienced the same thing when you put your pussy at risk."

"I guess," I said.

"I think the show is about over here," John said. "Let's head back to my place."

"Of course," I said. "As long as there is no branding or tattoos involved."

"Of course," John said as we got up to leave.

John was incredibly horny when we got to his place, and I have to admit I was too. We bonked out brains out before finally falling asleep.

I had trouble getting to work the next morning, but I made it only a few minutes late. The next evening John took me out to dinner at a very exclusive restaurant. We got a private room, and John order all the food and wine. It was excellent.

After dinner John ordered some Espresso and were sipping the dark coffee.

"Amy," John said. "I have something that you might find very interesting."

"Really," I said. "What kind of interesting?"

"The kind that gets your panties dripping wet," John laughed.

"Ooooh," I said. "Do tell."

"Your panties got really wet when you put your pussy at risk of a whipping," John said.

"So you said," I replied.

"How would you like to watch people really lose their cocks or pussies?" John asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, you saw the Dom last night in the High Tower Club?" John said.

"Oh my god," I said. "You mean really cut it off?"

"Yes," John said. "Really cut it off."

"Why would someone do that?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know of anyone that would let someone do that voluntarily," John said. "But it is a traditional punishment for rape or adultery with many of the tribes in this area and in some parts of Northern Africa and the Middle East it is making a comeback."

"Really," I said. "You mean we can watch one of these punishments carried out?"

"Yes," John said. "And not just one."

"Where?" I asked.

"Carl Levitt sometimes pays various tribes or governments to allow him to do the deed," John said.

"Wow," I said.

"Yes," John said. "Carl has found five men and two women. It is very rare to find women."

"How can a woman be castrated?" I asked.

"They cut off the cit," John said. "So they can't have orgasms."

"I thought many tribes did that to all young girls?" I asked.

"Some do," John said. "But usually just the tip of the clit. They leave enough that most woman can still orgasm, it is just more difficult. The total clitorectomy takes the whole thing as well as the nerve roots. It makes an orgasm impossible."

"Wow," I said. "That sounds pretty final."

"It is," John said. "But it is more humane than stoning to death, which is the other traditional punishment for female adultery."

"I guess," I said.

"So are you interested in watching people really lose their cocks or clits?" John asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"Why not?" John asked.

"You mentioned really putting my pussy at risk?" I said. "Don't tell me Carl draws a number from his bowl and castrates some of the people attending this too?"

"No," John said. "It is actually more interesting than that."

"More interesting?" I asked in disbelieve at what John was saying.

"As you have guessed, everyone who attends needs to put his cock or clit at risk" John said. "But unlike the party we attended, no one needs to lose."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Let me explain," John said. "Carl has developed these little electronic guillotine like devices for male and female genitals. The male version is a knife that cuts off both the cock and balls in a single stroke. The female version cuts off the external clit. He now also has nipple guillotines that cut off the nipples cleanly. Each person that attends the party has to get strapped to the table and have the guillotines attached to their genitals and nipples. Then they will spin a wheel with 100 numbers on it. If your number comes up, the guillotines instantly castrate you, but your odds are 99 in 100 that that won't happen."

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

"Don't tell me you aren't already wet just thinking about it," John said.

"Well, maybe," I said. "But I really like my clit. I've had a lot of good times with it, and I was looking forward to many more years of good times with my clit. I would really hate to lose it."

"And I would really hate to lose my cock and balls too," John said. "I suspect you wouldn't have much use for me if I lost them either."

"I really like your cock," I said with a laugh.

"Exactly," John said. "But the thrill of actually risking your sex life, not just a whipping, but actually risking losing your genitals, all of them, no more orgasms ever, that is a real risk. The one in hundred odds are not that bad. Yes losing it would be a bitch, but not losing it is an real high, and watching other people lose their genitals after you have risked yours is an incredible high."

"I don't know," I said.

"You can think about it while I'm traveling for the next week," John said. "I think the idea will grow on you. In fact, I would bet your panties are soaking wet already."

"Maybe," I said, but I could feel my panties were a little moist.

While John was gone, I kept thinking about what John had described. It made me so horny. I had to go buy fresh batteries almost every day. Still, the idea that I could lose my clit scared the daylights out of me. I guess John was right. That is what made it so exciting.

There was something to say for the way John thought of it. It wasn't one chance in a hundred of my losing my clit, it was 99 out of a hundred chances of not losing my clit and having the thrill of my life. Somehow that sounded better.

I kept thinking, it should be safe to do it once at those odds, shouldn't it? Then I would put fresh batteries in my vibrator and go at it again.

When John got back, he invited me over to his place for dinner. He of course wanted to know what I thought about the idea of really risking my clit.

"I have been thinking about it," I said. "I just find it so hard to believe."

"How so," John asked.

"Well, for one thing, isn't there a lot of blood when you cut off a cock or clit?" I asked.

"When you cut off a cock and balls, there certainly is a lot of blood," John said. "They have some pads with lotions they put on immediately to reduce the bleeding. Then they rush you into surgery to finish the nullification."

"Finish it?" I asked.

"Yes, John said. "It is actually four to twelve hours of surgery afterwards to finish the whole thing."

"Doing what?" I said.

"Well, Carl goes for total nullification," John said. "For men, that means they cut out the base of the penis which is inside the body running back to the anus. Then they have to reroute stuff so you can still pee like a woman. For a woman, they cut out the base of the cit and nerve endings under it. Then they cut out all the nerves around the G-spot. Finally, they remove the ovaries, a Oophorectomy."

"Wow," I said. "That is total. Who does all this surgery?"

"Oh, Carl has a team of doctors that specialize in this kind of surgery," John said.

"So have you been to one of these parties before," I asked.

"Yes," John said. "Three times in fact."

"Wow," I said. "You have put your cock in the guillotine three times?"

"Yes," John said. "And, as you know, I still have it."

"I'm well aware of that," I laughed.

"Did anyone lose theirs at one of these parties?" I asked.

"You mean, anyone from the guests," John said. "Carl always has some prisoners that lose it at the party as their punishment."

"Yes," I said. "That is what I meant."

"One woman lost her clit a few years ago," John said.

"What about that guy at the High Tower Club?" I asked.

"He lost his cock at one of these parties," John said. "But before my time."

"I cannot believe this can all be legal," I said. "Wouldn't someone who lost go to the police?"

"The police here in Porto Kanda are not going to touch Carl Levitt," John said. "And on his own Island, he makes the laws."

"Amazing," I said. "I would have never believed something like this was possible."

"But I bet your panties have been really wet this week thinking about it," John said.

"Well, ... some," I confessed.

"Does that mean you are up for it?" John said.

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Oh Amy, you know you want to go," John said.

"On the one hand I want to go, but on the other hand I really like my clit," I said.

"Ninety-nine out of 100 odds of keeping your clit aren't good enough?" John asked. "You can't beat those odds."

"I guess," I said

"Don't just guess," John said. "You want to see real men lose their cocks and balls. You want to see real women lose their clits. You want to see real men and women sexually nullified right in front of your eyes. You want to watch ordinary people, like you and me, really risking it all. Deep inside you want to have your clit locked into that guillotine and feel the rush of spinning the wheel that will decide whether you get to keep your clit, whether you will ever experience another orgasm? You want it all, Amy. Don't just guess, say you want it."

"You know I want it John," I said. "Yes, I want it."

With those words I continued my journey down to yet the next level of the dark, secret world of Carl Levitt.

That night John wanted to do it over and over again. When we finally fell to sleep, I felt like a filly that had been ridden hard and put away wet.

Chapter 5

John had to be gone again for two weeks, but he promised no matter what he would be back before the next C & C Party. John called it the real Cock and Clit party, and said no way he was going to miss it. John told me C & C could also stand for Castration and Clitorectomy, but those words were too big. Cock and Clit sounded better.

While John was gone I put my vibrator to good use. I took to buying batteries at different locations so the clerks would not begin to wonder why I needed so many C batteries.

The big event was to be on Saturday night. John called me Friday morning at work to say he had gotten back very late the night before and asked me over for dinner.

"Are you excited, Amy?" John asked when I came in the room.

"You know I am," I said.

"Not getting cold feet on me," John said.

"Well, I am nervous," I said. "I know the odds are good, but still... it would be life changing."

"You know it," he said. "Tomorrow you are going to see some real life changing experiences. Nothing like it anyplace else on earth. Carl has outdone himself this time. He has lined up five men and two women. Three of the men will get traditional castrations, balls only, but the other two will get the whole works taken. Five sets of ball, two cocks and two clits! Just imagine there are seven people out there on the island that are contemplating their fate tonight. For four of them this is their last night to be able to experience an orgasm. For all of them this is the last night they will be real men or women. Tomorrow night they will be nullified."

"There is a small chance that this could be my or your last night too," I said.

"I know," John said. "Let's fuck like it is our last night. I'm not really hungry. Want to skip dinner and get right down to it?"

We did it in every imaginable way and position that night. Then we did it in ways I had never imagined! John seemed to be able to keep getting it back up after ten or fifteen minutes rest. I had never seen a man who could just keep getting it up like that.

I was completely exhausted when we finally fell asleep, and I slept very soundly.

When I woke up in the morning, it seemed late from the angle of the sunlight streaming in between the blinds in the bedroom. John was still asleep next to me. Then I remembered what we had done the night before and what we were going to do tonight. Today could be the last day I was really a woman or it could be the last day John was really a man. Wow! I felt a knot in my stomach just thinking about it, but I could feel the juices flowing in my pussy too.

I slipped quietly out of bed and went to take a shower. When I was finished, John was awake.

"I've got to take care of some things today," John said. He took a stack of bills from his wallet and handed them to me. "Here, go buy yourself a new party dress, jewelry, get your hair done, whatever. I want you to look like a million bucks tonight."

I looked at the stack of bills. It was a lot of money.

I got dressed and headed downtown for a major shopping spree. Usually I would bring one or two of my girl friends along for this kind of shopping to give me second opinions, but I couldn't do that today. How could I explain where I got all the money? How could I tell them what I needed the new outfit for?

So what kind of a dress should a girl wear to a castration party? I decided I should wear something slinky and sexy. Something to show the men who were losing their cocks and balls exactly what they would be missing. I picked out a tightly fitted red dress that emphasized my thin waist, broad hips, and flat stomach. It had a plunging neckline that showed off my modest cleavage, and my back was bare all way down to my derriere. I couldn't believe how sexy I looked wearing it.

With the dress picked out, I needed new underwear. The dress had such a plunging neckline that I would not be wearing a bra. There were small pasties that came with the dress and would cover my nipples, and I didn't really need a bra anyway. I would need panties. I decided a nice lacy red panties was the right thing to go with this dress.

Then there were shoes. I had to get new shoes to go with this dress. After an hour looking at shoes, I picked a nice high-heeled pair of red shoes.

Next I headed to the jewelry store. After looking for some time, I picked a simple pearl necklace. I thought of getting a double stranded one. I had more than enough money for it. But I decided that the single strand was more elegant. It would attract men's eyes to my chest, but not distract from the titillation of my cleavage.

The last stop was to get my hair and nails done. When I got back to John's house, John was still out, but the servants let me in without question.

Was there anything else I needed to do to get ready for tonight? I had the sexy new party dress, but for my hopefully not life changing spin of the roulette wheel, I would be naked. My pussy is just lightly trimmed. Being Chinese, my pubic hair is not very heavy, and I have always liked the natural look, rather than the completely shaved or heavily trimmed styles that are all so popular. Tonight was different. A whole room full of people were going to have their eyes fixed on my clit while the roulette wheel spun, waiting to see if I got to keep it. For this occasion completely bare was the way to go. I went up to take a shower and shave myself clean.

I had just gotten out of the shower and was standing naked in the bathroom drying myself, when John walked in.

"I like it, Amy," John said. "That is definitely going to be the hottest pussy there tonight."

"You think?" I asked.

"Definitely," John said. "You are going to have a lot of horny men staring at that clit, hoping that the little guillotine snips it right off."

"Really," I said. "They won't be hoping that the guillotine takes your cock, so my pussy will be available, so to speak?"

"That too," John laughed.

I lay the towel down to let John get a clear view of my naked, squeaky-clean body.

"So," I said. "Want to do it one more time, just in case?"

"Hmmmm," John said. "You certainly know how to tempt a man, but we only have time for a quickie. I wouldn't want the last time to be a quickie. I would rather remember last night as the final night. But I'm going to fuck your brains out when we get back tonight."

"So you're betting we both will still have all the equipment for that," I said.

"Absolutely," John said. "It's the smart money."

We both got dressed and prepared to go.

"Wow, you do look like a million in that dress," John said.

"Thanks," I said, as we headed down for the car. "I wanted to look good tonight."

"You look more than good," John said. "I predict that most of the guys tonight are going to staring at you while their cocks or balls are sliced off."

I smiled.

On the helicopter flight out to the Carl Levitt's island I developed a big knot in my stomach again. I realized we had skipped dinner. It had completely slipped my mind in all the excitement.

"So this will be the forth time for you?" I asked John.

"Yes," John said.

"Aren't you worried that you are pushing your luck?" I asked.

"Sometimes I do," John said. "In twenty or thirty years my cock is going to go limp anyway. I want to live life to the fullest while my equipment is still fully functional."

"So how many people have you seen lose it," I said.

"The first party Carl had two men, both traditional castrations," John said. "Nobody lost a cock at that party. The second party Carl had two men and one woman. This time one man lost his cock, the other just his balls. The last party a few years ago, Carl had three men and one woman. One of the men was a traditional castration. The other two lost their cocks and balls. That was also the party were one of the women lost her clit at the roulette wheel."

"Wow," I said. "Did you know her?"

"Yeah," John said. "I knew her. She was a nice young woman, probably a little older than you. I haven't seen her in Porto Kanda since though. I heard she went back to Europe."

"Had she been to lots of these parties?" I asked.

"It wasn't her first time," John said. "She had been to several before."

"Just pushed her luck too far," I said.

"Not really," John said. "It was just bad luck. When your number comes up, it comes up. Nothing you can do."

"That is the only time you've seen someone lose at roulette?" I asked.

"Yes," John said. "As far as I know she was the first loser in a long time."

We arrived at the Island and were driven to the house by the same jeeps as last time. Servants greeted us at the door and showed us to the great hall again. There were only a handful of people in the room. I recognized many of them from the last party, although this time no one was wearing masks. The security chief was here, but with a different woman. The mayor was here too, but he was chatting with the man John said was the local head of organized crime and neither one seemed to be with a woman. There were a couple other couples I recognized, but had never met, and two young men who seemed to be together and without any women.

"Not very many people here," I said.

"This party is for the true risk takers," John said.

"Do they allow men to come by themselves?" I asked.

"Ah, you noticed the mayor and Muhammadu over there," John said. "Yes they allow men at this party unaccompanied, but you pay a price."

"You have to pay money?" I asked.

"No," John said. "You only get fifty to one odd on the roulette wheel instead of one hundred to one."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "That's why you wanted me to come and risk my clit. It is all to keep your cock safer."

"Don't be silly," John said. "I wouldn't have come alone. I asked you because I knew deep inside you want to be here."

John knew me too well.

At the far end of the room were three strange inclined tables. The high portion of the table was rectangular, but the lower portion was like the top of the letter Y, but upside down. These tables were on wheels, so they could be moved around, and they were padded. One was out from the wall, and the other two were resting against the wall. Several men came out and began to set up some equipment around the table. Everyone began to drift down to that end of the room. A man came out leading a young, naked black man. The man began to talk in some African native language.

"What's going on," I whispered to John.

"It's a government official reading out the charges and sentence before it is carried out," John said.

When he finished speaking two guards lead the young black man over to table and forced him to lie back on it. They strapped his arms and legs to the table. Then they brought out the little guillotine. It had a ring that snapped around the young mans balls. There was a metal plate that came up and held his large cock out of the way of the knives. A wire ran away from it to some kind of a control. A bucket was positioned under the Y opening of the table. The young man was looking around at all the strange people around him.

Everyone seemed to be inching forward. They were trying to get a good view of what was about to happen. John pushed me forward.

"Don't be shy Amy," John whispered. "This is your first castration. Get a good look at it. It will be over in a flash."

As John pushed me forward, my eyes met the young black man's eyes. We stared at each other. They moved a stand with some equipment on it over next to the table. Everything seemed to be ready. The black man on the table was staring at me, or more probably at my low cut dress. I was staring at his cock and balls. His cock seemed to be stirring, starting to get erect. Was it sexual excitement at the idea of being castrated, or was it me?

I adjusted the front of my dress to show just a teeny bit more cleavage. In the blink of an eye, the guillotine knife snapped down, and the young man's ball sac fell into the bucket. His cock was still hard. There were a few drops of blood dripping down from where his balls had been a second before, but the young man seemed to still be staring at me. Suddenly it hit him, like it took several seconds for his body to realize an important part of it was now missing. He screamed in agony. One of the men standing next to the table picked up a gauze pad and pushed it where the man's balls use to be. Then they unlocked the wheels and pushed the table out of the room. It was all over in seconds.

A man with gloves came out and pulled the two balls out of the bucked and held them out for everyone to see. Then he dropped them in a bottle with some liquid.

"Wow," I said. "Just like that and they're gone."

"I think that young man, if you can still call him a man, will remember you for the rest of his life," John said. "You little cock teaser."

"You think I was mean to him?" I asked.

"No," John said. "Not at all. If I had to lose my balls, I would like to have it done staring at a sexy woman."

Some of the men started to push another one of the tables out from the wall.

A number of servants came into the room pushing carts with food on it. I was hungry now, having completely forgotten about dinner earlier. John and I both got a little something to eat.

"So what's going to happen next," I asked.

"I think they will do the two other traditional castrations," John said. "Then we will move onto roulette. After that you will see some guys really lose their cocks."

I nodded.

"It is the medical team. We have to wait for them to finish the first one," a woman said.

I turned to see a pleasant looking older woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s. She was white and was with portly older white man.

"What do you mean," I said.

"They have to close up and make sure there isn't any infection," she said.

"Oh," I said.

"It should only be another few minutes," she added.

I nodded.

"This is your fist time here?" she asked.

"Yes, it is," I said.

"That then was the first time you saw a guy fixed?" she asked.

"Yes, indeed," I said.

"Well these are just the hors d'oeuvre," she said. "If you think that was something, wait till you see a guys drop his whole package."

"I'm looking forward to it," I said. "I guess it will be after roulette,"

"Or maybe during roulette," the woman said with a smile. "Been a long time since we had a guy lose it at roulette."

"Come on now," the portly man said. "You wouldn't wish that on any of the gentlemen here tonight."

The woman smiled, and the man turned and walked off to get more snacks.

"He can't get it up without those little blue pills," the woman said in a low voice. "He wouldn't really miss it anyway."

I smiled.

"I bet your man doesn't have that problem," she added.

"No, he doesn't," I said.

"I'm Anne," she said. "And my husband is Jack."

"I'm Amy," I said.

The door opened and another man was lead out by several guards. John and I moved back close to the table. A man started talking in what sounded to me like Arabic.

"Do you know what he is saying," I asked. "What was this mans crime."

"I don't speak this language," John said. "But I think it is rape. Of course many of these people consider premarital sex to be rape."

"That is harsh," I said. "Losing your balls for premarital sex."

"We don't know if that is really what it was," John said.

The guards led the man over to the table and strapped him into it. They fitted the guillotine device onto his balls, with the metal plate to push his cock out of the blades way. The trays were moved over next to the table and the bucket was shoved under the table.

This man was more panicky. He didn't seem to notice anyone around him. I noticed that the cord running from the guillotine was now in the hands of the government official that had read the charges against him. His cock was not quite as big as the first man. At least it didn't look very large laying limp on his stomach.

I didn't think this man had even noticed me, although I was standing right in his line of sight. I adjusted the front of my dress slightly, pushing my shoulders forward just slightly. This pulled the dress slightly away from my body. With the deep, plunging cleavage on this dress, that would reveal the profile of my breasts. I turned slightly sideways to see if he would notice. Suddenly his eyes locked on me. The government man pushed the button, the guillotine blade struck, and in a blink of an eye, the young man's balls were falling into the bucket. A small stream of blood dripped into the bucket too.

The young man screamed when he felt the loss, and his face became distorted in agony.

"It is so easy to take a guy's manhood," I whispered to John.

"It is just as easy to take a woman's womanhood," he said. "You will see that later."

The young man was pushed quickly away. The man with the gloves came out again to retrieve his balls from the bucket. He showed them to everyone and then dropped them into another jar of liquid.

The men began to move the third table into position, while most of the people drifted back to the food.

"What do you think of the hors d'oeuvre," Anne asked.

"I hope they haven't slipped any one's balls into those meat balls," I said.

"I don't think so," Anne said.

"They make it look so easy," I said.

"Yeah," she said. "It isn't really that easy. I wouldn't recommend trying this at home. There is the medical work too."

"I guess that is true," I said.

The third man was lead naked into the room. He looked to be Middle Eastern. Two guards stood on either side of him over near the door, while they waited for all the preparations to be completed.

"Do you find it exciting? Seeing a guy lose his nuts," Anne asked.

"You know it," I said. "I mean it's taking his manhood. One second he is a man, and in a blink of an eye, he is not really a man anymore."

"Can I ask you a question?" Jack said.

"Sure," I replied.

"These young men are virile, well equipped examples of manhood," he said. "Exactly what a young woman, such is yourself, would be looking for in a sexual partner. So why does seeing them emasculated excite you?"

"That is true," I said. "It is kind of weird, or maybe kinky. I guess part of it is that it is so final. These young men are giving up their manhood forever, just for my pleasure. Now I know that is not really true. It is really a punishment for their crimes, but I get to watch it and imagine they are doing it just for me."

"That is part of it, but it is more complicated," John said. "There is a price for coming here and watching these men be emasculated. You, me, all of us, are risking our own manhood or womanhood to be here. Although the odds are in our favor, it is still a risk. As long as we have ours, it is exciting to watch others lose it."

A well-dressed Middle Eastern man came into the room and was now talking with the naked prisoner.

"There is something to that," Jack said. "I just wondered why a young woman might like this so much, especially when we get to the total emasculations. It seems weird to me to delight in the elimination of desirable sex partners?"

"Who said anything about eliminating desirable sex partners?" I said. "After all they aren't getting their tongues lopped off."

That brought a laugh from John and Jack, and a knowing smile from Anne.

Several other well-dressed men had now come over to join the conversation with the Middle Eastern official and the prisoner. I caught several of them turning around and looking right at us.

"What is going on there," I asked John.

"No idea," John said.

Two of the well-dressed men turned and walked over towards us.

"We have a rather unusual situation here," he said to the guests gathered around the food. "As you know this man has been sentenced to a traditional castration for the crime of rape. He has heard of the roulette game that will follow his castration. He would like to offer his penis in a wager against a lady's clitoris."

There was a gasp from several of the guests.

"Now this man recognizes his position, and realizes he cannot expect a lady to accept this as a fifty-fifty wager, so he is prepared to offer ten to one odds to the lady. As some of you know, there was much discussion about such wagers here some years ago, and Mr. Levitt had the equipment built to carry out such wagers. Since the equipment was built, however, no one has agreed to actually carry out such a wager, so this would be the first time it is used.

"If the wager is accepted, both participants would be strapped to tables and would have the guillotine attached. For the man, both his penis and testicles. For the lady, only her clitoris. The wheel has one hundred numbers on it. To provide the ten to one odds, ten numbers would be assigned to the lady's guillotine, and ninety numbers to the man's guillotine. The wheel would then be spun, and only one of guillotines would fire.

"Now a few more points, even if the man does win this wager, he will still be given a traditional castration. It is only his penis that is being wagered, and the lady is only being asked to wager her clitoris, nothing more. Also, this is strictly a private wager between the two participants. It is not a replacement for the roulette game. The lady will still be expected to participate in C & C Roulette."

"And he expects one of us will take him up on this wager," the woman next to me said.

"Actually, the wager is being offered specifically to the young lady in the red dress," he said, looking at me.

"What! Me!" I said.

"Yes madam," the man said. "He is only offering the wager to you. Now I may hasten to add that you are under absolutely no obligation to accept this wager. All you have to do is say no, and we will continue with a standard castration."

I was in shock. I didn't know what to think. My brain was screaming say "no", but my pussy was dripping wet. I felt everyone looking at me. I looked at John, trying to organize my thoughts.

John leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Ask for better odds."

I knew I should simply say I wasn't interested, the idea of betting my clit one on one against a guys cock made my pussy tingle. Of course, if I lost the wager, that tingle would be gone forever. What a wager!

"How about one hundred to one odds?" I said.

There was dead silence in the room for a second, then people began to whisper to each other.

"Am I to understand the lady is willing to accept the wager at one hundred to one odds," the man said.

"Yes," I said.

"I will tell the man, one moment please" he said.

John leaned over and whispered to me again.

"Hang tough," John said. "If he will do it at ten to one, he'll do it at one hundred to one."

"You think so," I said.

"I'm sure of it," John said. "He offered ten to one odds. In his mind he has already given up his cock. He just wants to see you naked. That or maybe he is just a gambling addict."

The well-dressed man walked back over towards us.

"The man is willing to offer the wager at twenty to one odds," the man said.

I looked at John.

"I said I would accept the wager at one hundred to one." I said. "That is my final offer. Take it or get on with it."

"I understand the lady completely, one moment please," the man said.

The man walked back over to the talk with the other men. In a moment he return.

"The man asked me to tell you that you are both very beautiful and a hard bargainer," the man said. "He accepts your offer at one hundred to one."

Chapter 6

What had I gotten myself into now? The room was buzzing with hushed conversations.

"See, I told you," John said to me.

My head was spinning. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself down.

"The equipment for this sort of wager will take a while to get setup," the man said. "We will carry out this wager at the conclusion of the party. Now we will proceed to C & C Roulette. Would everyone please follow these gentlemen."

We followed the servants towards the back of the huge house to another room. This room was smaller of course, but easily accommodated everyone. There was an inclined table in the center of the room. Next to it was a large wheel, which was not really like a roulette wheel at all. It was a large wheel that was mounted vertically, and sat on the floor next to the table where the occupant would have a good view. The numbers seemed to be randomly distributed around the wheel.

There where a number of long normal tables end to end across the middle of the room, except where the inclined table and wheel were in the center. One of the tables in the center had a big bowl containing plastic tabs.

"We all take our clothes off now," John said. "Leave your clothes on one of these tables. After you take your spin on the wheel, you go through to the other side and you can pick up your clothes for the rest of the party."

"Unless you leave something in the bucket," Jack said.

"In that case," John laughed. "Getting your clothes back will be the least of your problems."

Everyone was beginning to causally remove his or her clothes. John was laying his shirt on one of the tables. I kicked my shoes off and sat them on the table. I unzipped my dress, slipped it off my shoulders and stepped out of it. I left it on the table next to John's clothes. I looked around to see what everyone else was doing. Many were already naked. I peeled the pasties off my nipples. Then I pulled my panties off, and I was standing there completely naked in a room filled with naked people.

"Just to remind you all, this is a total nullification wager," the man said. "For men we use the guillotine around both the penis and the testicles, as well as the new nipple guillotines. For the ladies we use the clitoris guillotine and the nipple guillotines. The rest of the nullification will be performed surgically after the person is stabilized.

"Your odds will be one in a hundred, except for the unaccompanied gentlemen, who must wager at fifty to one. If your odds are one hundred to one, you pick one of these number tabs from this bowel. If your odds are fifty to one, you pick two of the tabs. You insert the tabs here on this box."

"Who wishes to go first?" he asked.

The mayor stepped forward and drew two tabs, and inserted them in the machine. The mayor was so fat, that his cock looked tiny below all the layers of fat on his belly. He leaned back and was strapped onto the table. The men fitted the guillotine around his cock and balls. They carefully position the bucket under the table in case, and then they gave the mayor the remote control. The mayor said something in his native language, and pushed the button to spin the wheel. His cock and balls hung limply from the guillotine. When the wheel stopped, there was a loud clunk, and then a green light came on below the wheel. I guessed that meant all clear.

Everyone applauded politely, so I did too. The mayor was freed from the guillotines and the restraints removed from his hands and feet. Next was the man John had said was the head of organized crime. He took two tabs from the bowel and plugged them into the box. Then he leaned back and was strapped onto the table. He kissed a chain he had around his neck with a cross on it before his hands were strapped above his head. The nipple and genital guillotines were fastened on and adjusted. Then he was given the button. He immediately pushed and released it after a few seconds. This man also had a limp cock, but it looked very long even limp. I was watching the cock closely as the wheel stopped and I heard the clunk. The green light came on below the wheel. The man praised some god and the men began freeing him from the restraints.

John pulled at my hand.

"Let's get it over with," John said. "Don't want you sitting around getting all nervous."

I reluctantly followed John. John went first. He took just one tab from the bowl and plugged it in the box. John was strapped to the table, while I stood a few feet away waiting my turn next. I watched the guillotine fastened around his cock and balls, and the smaller ones connected to his nipples. Then they handed John the button. This was the moment of truth for John. His cock was not completely limp, but only partially erect. He pressed the button and watched the wheel spin, then released the button. The wheel slowly stopped. My eyes were glued to his cock. I heard the clunk, and his cock was still there. The green light appeared below the wheel. His cock was still firmly attached. They unfastened the guillotines and let him off the table.

I gave him a kiss on the cheek. I pulled one of the plastic tabs from the bowel and put it into the box. Then climbed up on the table myself. My stomach was in a knot and I could feel my pussy was dripping wet. The angle of the Y opening forced me to spread my legs very wide. They fastened my ankles to the table. Then they fastened my wrists above my head. One of the men gently parted my vaginal lips, obviously looking for my clit. Unlike some men, he knew right were to find it.

"This will hurt a little bit," he said.

He pushed back the hood and slid a large clip over the hood to hold it back. Then he fastened the guillotine to the clip and carefully adjusts it. Another man pinched my nipples and pulled them up and then clamped the nipple guillotine around each nipple. A man pulled the bucket out from under the table and instead slid a large low tray under it.

The man put the button into one of my hands above my head.

"Now madam, you may press the button when you are ready," he said.

This was it. This spin of the wheel would now decide if I remained a woman, if I would ever have an orgasm again. I looked down at my body. My clit was standing up in the middle of the silver ring. There was a very sharp looking blade at the top of the ring that was ready to slice my clit off, if the guillotine fired. My nipples were also standing erect in their own silver rings, with sharp blades ready to snipe them off too. I really didn't want to lose my clit. I looked at John, took a deep breath, and pressed the button. The wheel began to spin. My pussy was buzzing. I felt so wet. I was worried there might be juices dripping from it. I wanted to finger myself, but I couldn't with my clit under the blade of the guillotine. I swallowed and released the button. The wheel slowed and came to a stop. My eyes were fixed on the guillotine blade above my clit.

I heard the clunk of the relay. Nothing seemed to have happened. People started to applaud. I looked at the wheel and saw the green light below it. I was relieved, and I was still a woman.

The men began to gently disconnect the guillotines, and then unfastened me from the table. I walked up to John and hugged him.

"You did it like a real trooper," John said.

"Thanks," I said. "God pressing that button that could end my womanhood is a real head trip."

"You know it," said John. "There is nothing quite like it."

"Now that you have wagered your clit as the price of admission, and won" John said. "You can watch some men and women really lose theirs."

"Don't forget that the lady has agreed to another wager as well," one of the men running the wheel said.

"Ah, yes," John said. "Right you are."

I had forgotten about that already. Now I remembered I was going to have to go through this all again.

"Well, forget about that for now," John said.

Jack was now all strapped to the table and the guillotines were attached.

Let's watch this," John said. "You never know, what could happen."

Jack's cock looked tiny and limp. He pushed the button, and then released it a few seconds later. I watched his small cock, but nothing happened, and he was soon off the table.

It was now Anne's turn. They fastened her to the table, and began hooking up the guillotines. They changed the pail to the large tray again.

"Why do they use a tray for women and a pail for men," I asked.

"The clit is very small and light." John said. "The guillotines can throw it a long way. On the other hand, there is very little blood. A man's cock and balls are much heavier and tend to fall straight down. There can be a lot more blood too."

"Oh, I see," I said.

I wondered how many women had lost their womanhood to figure that out. I guessed this had been learned from all the prisoner castrations, and not from guests who lost it at roulette.

The woman was all fasten in now, and she pressed the button spinning the wheel. The wheel began to slow down and stopped. There was the loud clunk, and then the green light. Everyone applauded.

I wondered what everyone was applauding for. We were all here to see people castrated. Why were we applauding when people were not castrated? Didn't make sense.

"Congratulations," Jack said to me with a smile.

"I bet you wanted to see my clit snipped, didn't you," I said.

"I still have one more chance for that later tonight," Jack said. "Since you have agreed to an additional wager."

"Don't get your hopes up too high," I said. "I don't plan to lose anything there either."

"We will see," he said.

Another couple was now taking their turn at the wheel. The man was strapped in, and I watched his cock intently as he pushed the button. The green light came on and once again the cock remained firmly attached to the man.

I wondered how many people had actually lost at this game. I knew of two. The man at the High Tower Club and the woman John had told me about, but I guessed there had been others.

The woman was now taking her turn, and she escaped with all her body parts still in working order. The last were the two younger brothers, who had to draw two tabs for the fifty to one odds. This gave us better odds of seeing a guy lose his cock. These two young men were also in good shape, and they both had large cocks. There cocks got rock hard when they climbed on the table. The guillotine around the base made them look huge. I watched each guy's cock carefully as the wheel slowed down, but nothing happened and they made it through with all body parts in tack.

"Congratulations to everyone who pushed the button and risked their own nullification," one of the men said. "Now you can get dressed and we will see some nullifications."

Chapter 7

We all got dressed and followed the servants to another room. It had one of the inclined tables in the middle of the room. Everyone one stood around for a few minutes.

"Once again, everyone has escaped roulette, Anne said to me.

"I was glad to escape," I said. "Weren't you?"

"Of course," she said. "But is gets boring when no one ever loses."

"There have been ideas to make roulette more interesting," Jack said.

"Like what ideas?" I asked.

"More interesting here means more risky," John said.

"Well, one idea is progressive roulette," Jack said.

"What is that," I asked.

"You start as we did tonight with everyone talking one number on the wheel," Jack said. "If as happen tonight, everyone makes it through that round, we change the odds to fifty to one and everyone does another round. We keep reducing the odds, until not everyone makes it through a round."

"Wow," I said. "That would be risky."

"Not if you could get one hundred people to play," Jack said.

"Oh, now there is a fantasy," Anne said. "You couldn't get two people to play that."

"Well, ten would be the minimum number for me to play," Jack said.

"Will never happen," Anne said.

The door opened, and another naked Middle Eastern man was lead into the room.

"This should be good." Anne said. "It's really amazing to watch a guy drop his cock into the bucket."

"I'm looking forward to it," I said.

A Middle Eastern man came in and began to speak in some language I could not understand.

"I wonder what this guy did," I asked John.

"I don't understand Farsi either," John said.

"I understand a little," a man said.

I turned to see the speaker. It was one of the two young brothers who had come together.

"From the little I can make out, he is a serial adulterer," the young man said. "It is mostly a list of all the married women he has bedded. I think he father children by some of them too."

"Oh," I said.

"In this last part, I think he seduced some underage girls too," the young man added. "Well, virgins anyway."

"Yuck," I said.

"Sounds like a fitting punishment," John said. "After tonight he won't have the equipment anymore."

"That is for sure," the young man said. "By the way, I am Ken."

"I am Amy," I said. "Nice to meet you."

The naked man was lead forward and pushed down on the table. He looked to be middle age, but he was still in very good shape, with a lean body and a hansom face. He had dark hair and dark eyes. I could easily see what the women saw in him, at least physically.

He had stood with his head hung down the whole time the charges were read, and never had seemed to notice us. Now he watched the guards intently as they strapped him to the table. One of the men pulled his cock and balls away from his body, and then fastened the guillotine around the base of both. It was the same as had been done to all the male guests a few minutes before. The difference was there was no doubt that this guillotine was going to fire. One man carefully positioned the pail under the table.

John pushed me ahead of him so I was standing right in front of the table. The man had an uncut cock. It looked long and thin, and I could just barely see the head though the small opening at the end of the foreskin. I adjusted the front of my dress again to slightly increase the cleavage that showed. The man had been looking around wildly, as if searching for something that would save him, or more to the point, save his cock. Now his eyes stopped on me. His eyes seem to see right into me. When I stood there in front of him, I felt like I was completely naked before a stranger. I began to get that tingling in my pussy.

The room was silent. All I could see was his eyes and his cock hanging out of the shiny metal clamped at its base. Then there was a click, a flash of reflected light as the guillotine sliced down. Slowly the cock and balls tumbled forward away from the man's body, and then dropped towards the bucket as the knife completed its cut. The man let out a horrible scream, and his face was contorted in pain. There was a small stream of blood that followed the penis down into the bucket, but one of the men quickly applied some gauze pads to stop the bleeding, and the table was pushed out of the room.

I was speechless. I had never seen or experienced anything like that before.

With the man out of the room, people began to applaud. Earlier we had applauded each other for not losing our manhood or womanhood. Were we now applauding the man to thank him for giving up his manhood? I decided it must be to thank Carl Levitt for letting us watch, but he extracted a price to let us watch.

A man with gloves pulled the cock and balls out of the bucket and showed it to everyone, then dropped it into a bottle with some liquid.

"Well, it looks like this guy will not be seducing the ladies anymore," Jack said. "His equipment is in a bottle on the table."

I hadn't noticed the table before. There were three jars setting on the table, two with a pair of balls, and the one with a cock and balls.

"That isn't the equipment he used," I said. "Not to seduce all those women."

"Oh, really," Ken said. "What equipment did he use."

"A women is never seduced by a man's cock," I said. "With this man it was his eyes. He had dark, mysterious eyes that could look into a woman's soul and see her erotic desires. That was the tool he used to seduce all those women."

"Ah, that is what happened there," John said. "He was really panicky until he looked into your soul and saw your erotic desire to see his cock cut off. Then he fulfilled your desire by having it cut off just for you."

Everyone laughed.

"Could be," I said.

"She is a real cock charmer," Ken said.

"That she is," John agreed. "She can charm them up or charm them right off."

Everyone laughed while I blushed.

"After she has seen this," Ken said. "You better make sure she hasn't hidden a knife under the pillow."

That got another laugh.

"I would never do that," I protested. "I really love them."

"Yes," Ken said. "But do you love them in a bottle on the shelf or still attached?"

"Attached to a charming man, of course," I said. "One in a bottle isn't good for anything."

That got a good laugh from everyone.

Another table had now been pushed into the room.

"I think now you get to see a woman lose her clit," John said.

"I bet you will enjoy this," I said.

"You won't?" John asked.

"I'm not sure," I said. "We will see."

In a few minutes the woman was lead into the room. She looked to be Middle Eastern or North African. She was probably about 30, with a good figure. Her breasts were medium size, clearly larger than mine. She had long black hair and an extremely full bush that had not been trimmed. She was standing quietly with her head bowed.

A man now started apparently reading the charges against her in Arabic.

"I suspect this is adultery," John said.

When the man finished, the woman was lead to the table, still with her head bowed like she was afraid to look up and see what was going on around her. The men leaned her back on the table and fastened her ankles and writs to the table.

One of the men carefully parted her vaginal lips and pushed all the hair out of the way. He pushed the hood back, as they had on me a few minutes ago, to reveal the clit. Then he slipped the clip on to hold the hood back. The woman cried out, but then went silent. They attached the clit guillotine to the clip. One of the men aligned and adjusted it. He then stood back to admire the clit standing up in the middle of the silver ring. Now they were ready.

The woman was lying on the inclined table with her eyes closed. Apparently she did not want to see what was going to happen.

"Now watch this carefully," John said. "It is very small, and it will come off in a blink of an eye."

I knew the clit was small. I had my eyes fixed on that clit in the center of the ring. My clit had been in the center of that ring not long ago, but my guillotine had not fired. This guillotine would fire for sure. I began to feel the same tingly in my clit that I had felt when mine was under that knife. There was a click, and the knife sliced across the ring too quickly for the eye to see. The small fragment flesh, rich with nerve endings that had undoubtedly brought this woman great pleasure, was cleanly slice off and was now flying through the air away from her body.

The woman screamed loudly, and a man pushed a small pad where the clit had been, although I had seen very little blood. The table was unlocked an