Author Archives: María

Living with Marías

This is chapter 29, part 4 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Living with Marías

I walked back to my new apartment and walked around the neighborhood looking for stores. I bought flowers, candles, bubble bath and massage oil, special shampoos to fix the estrellitas mistreated hair, and some take-out Arab dishes.

When I returned back to my new home, one of the girls, estrellita-bubbly, the one of the fragrant panty, was already in the house. She was very excited, she had just received her residency assignment, starting that very night, the graveyard shift. She needed to cleanup, eat and prepare to go to the hospital. I told her that I had bought a special shampoo and conditioner for her hair, might I shampoo her hair? I had named her ‘bubbly’ for good reason, she accepted excitedly and squealed about the idea that we’d have a bubble bath celebration of her new assignment. I drew her bath, she began to undress somewhat timidly in front of me until she remembered that I had been in her vulva several times. I shampooed and massaged her hair, then washed her back.

I told her I had smelt and tasted her panty, that it was delicious. She said, “You really are a sicko pervert. You shouldn’t do that—the next time you do that … uhh … never mind, I’ll bring my panties to you, I want to watch! But you need to be punished for not asking me first. You probably think you know how nasty a whore can get. You have no idea–I’m going to be the world’s nastiest whore with you, and you have to take it and love it!”

Bubbly started suddenly and covered her breasts with her hands. The estrellita-blondie had come in and watched us from the doorway, her face a blank mask. Bubbly realized the absurdity of the situation, uncovered her breasts and started giggling, which provoked Blondie to laugh, and everyone relaxed. The sexual ice was broken between us, we would be OK.

When Bubbly finished her bath, she sat in a bathrobe, and I dried, brushed, and stroked her hair, then massaged her neck and shoulders. Her hair had been mistreated, didn’t shine, but I knew it would look great in a few days. She didn’t have whorepool eyes yet, but I knew I would be sane with these estrellitas. We heated the take-out dishes I had brought and talked about their work schedules–Blondie had the evening shift, Bubbly the graveyard shift. They had just one car, so I volunteered to take them and pick them up anytime it was dark, I would walk them in and out the door of the hospital. We would have a late brunch together each morning, I would be pleased to try out some new recipes on them.

The estrellitas were, like The Estrella, super smart, but just passably pretty. Well, just Bubbly. Bubbly had a smile that would light-up a football stadium, and her laughter was the effervescence sound of champagne. Her big, round eyes would someday become whorepools, the type that could rescue any man from himself. With me, she would have lots of practice.

Blondie’s hair was stressed by constant bleaching, it would never be soft and shiny, and always seemed to have dark roots showing at the scalp. Otherwise, she was pretty ordinary, like me. But her face was a window to her thoughts and emotions. If she liked you, you knew it. She did like me, or at least thought I was redeemable. Or at least worth the trade-off of those blissful moments when she guided my mouth around her vulva. My bliss, and hers.

Both these girls were erotically titillated by my eagerness to clean semen from their vulvae, a challenge to them to find a penis before coming to me, and to jerk and convulse afterward.

I sat with the estrellitas at the table, listening to their musical prattle about their new assignments, and then, young woman stuff. Just the sound of their voices was soothing and erotic. They efficiently cut-up a few of their colleagues and teachers, criticized the new uniforms for the ER staff, then moved smoothly into the penis size, curvature and erectile hardness of some of the interns they had recently tried-out. Then there was a moment of awkward silence as they realized I might be sensitive to talk about penises. I had been doodling, drawing pictures of the penises they described, and I showed them my doodles, and they took-off again. I felt sorry for the boys, they had no idea they were being so viciously dissected by these amazing women. Their Spanish rolled around my ears like music.

Living with a María-Spirit

As I doodled, I thought about what I’d say to my son about Rosa’s latest penis adventures. Rosa was a María-Spirit – living with her should be a simple process. Among the penis doodles I wrote:

The process of living a life of joy with a María-Spirit was so simple and guaranteed. Rosa is such a woman.

  • The woman chooses you, you accept, you dedicate your life to pleasing her.
  • At least once a week, you kneel before her, bury your face in her vulva, cry and beg her to forgive you for your inadequacies. This is not a confession, you don’t need to say the details, she already knows.
  • You work to please her, you play to please her, you give her children to please her, you provide her whatever she needs to please her.
  • How much is enough? When you please her just to compound her previous pleasure, you’re getting close. If she asks you for your life and you give it, it’s enough.
  • You love her as deep as death, and you make love to her accordingly.
  • If you find another man’s semen in her vulva, you honor him because he pleased her. You clean his semen with ‘cariño’; you don’t ask who or why – she’ll tell you if and when you deserve to know.
  • You learn to make love to her to please her. Don’t worry, she’ll teach you. You don’t ask for her throat or anus, she’ll give that and much more to you when you earn it. (Hint: she’ll give you everything, not just her body. You have no idea how ‘rico’ that will be!)
  • She’ll understand you far better than you know yourself. She’ll give you rules – don’t be a clever fool, obey her rules.
  • If you screw up, go immediately to the second rule, face in vulva. If you don’t, you’ll destroy yourself on the false detour.
  • In spite of her divinity, she’s still human, she’ll still make errors and mistakes, sometimes horrible ones. Forget them. If she begs for forgiveness, for your love again, grant it immediately, in advance if possible, before the words get out of her mouth otherwise. Don’t lose her over anything less than taking your life. If you lose her, take your own life–far preferable to the misery you’ll endure otherwise. Being saved by your María-Spirit surpasses all other joys: drugs, sex, religion, etc. They don’t even come close.
  • If you really screw-up and she doesn’t offer her vulva to your face, immediately begin kissing her feet. It usually, but not always, works. I recalled Jack Kerouac, who once wrote, “The world would never find peace until men fell at their women’s feet and asked for forgiveness.”
  • If you have to be told to never hit her or physically abuse her, you’re too stupid, too Penis, to be reading this. Please do yourself and humanity a favor by killing yourself. Don’t worry, no one except your mother will notice you’re gone, and even she will know it’s for the best.
  • Remember that many women are not María-spirits. They are Penis-women, full of spite and jealousy, and envy and violence. Especially the ‘world-savers’–if they can’t even save just you, imagine the havoc they’ll wreck on the rest of the world. Run the other direction–let the Penises have them, the perfect match made in hell.

Remember, the Marías and María-spirits will choose whose genes to propagate into the future. They may not be yours. And if she chooses not to send any man into the future, she can take her affection and body to another woman, she has an outstanding selection of women.

Living with a María

Those are the simple rules for María-spirits. For the true Marías, there’s some additional rules. How do you know if she’s a true María? That’s easy: however handsome, sexy, confident, refined, and educated you might be; even if you were just voted the world’s most handsome, sexy man–if you feel like a dirty dish rag in her presence, she’s a María.

  • If you get a shot at a María, take it, whatever the cost, however ordinary you may be. You’ll live the rest of your life on a roller coaster. And you’ll be the envy of every man that sees you.
  • Men will flock to her – if you haven’t fulfilled all of the above, you’re toast.
  • Men will attack her relentlessly, probe her for the smallest weakness. If they find the smallest opening, they will insert their penises there. Accept that, and learn to honor their semen. But if she wants you to fight for her, be fearless and fierce. You may be beaten, lose you genitals, lose your life, but if you desperately want her, you will win. It’s worth it, fight for her.

If you follow all of the above, she’ll keep you, save you, please you. Congratulations, you the luckiest, happiest man on the planet. You’re the .001 percent.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 29 – Part 3, The Measure of a Man

This is chapter 29, part 3 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 29 – Part 3, The Measure of a Man

I walked over to the med-school library and I noticed even more women–I counted, the ratio of women to men at the university must be about 65%-to-35%. The women wanted serious relationships at least by the end of their residencies. The men, really just immature testosterone sacks, wanted to poke around among all the women and get the quickest fuck possible. How many of these women would be shunted into fuck fodder?

Male had corrupted the true nature of humanity. Testosterone and penises corrupted everything–government, collectivism and war were the ultimate manifestation of the Male. I flashed back to a scene from the movie Apocalypse Now – Charlie Sheen, the obedient Male soldier, penis head emerging from beneath the surface of a sea of testosterone, murders Marlon Brando, the epitome of the Male. Brando, having previously said, “Horror and mortal terror are your friend, if they are not, then they are enemies to be feared,” dies as he moans, “the horror, the horror,” surely lamenting the world he destroyed.

The Female, to survive, is subtly rewriting the rules for the Male, a continuous battle–María was right for leaving me, I had lost my existential function of pleasing her. The dozens of men that fucked María in front of my face were right for fucking her simply because I allowed it. The men who punched my testicles while fucking María were right for punishing my stupidity. The street-gangs were right to castrate and remove the opposing gangs from existence. Larry was right to penetrate María’s cervix and impregnate her. PerfectPenis was right to castrate me–he could please María better than I. The Female, to survive under the oppressive Penis, pitted Male against Male.

I marveled at the strange, twisted life I had since I first saw María, but thought, No, I wouldn’t change anything at all about my life. And what a life! What a ride! Through love, sex, impotency, perversion, castration, bisexuality, prostitution, and madness, a life more exciting than even a fiction writer could invent. I re-lived the castration by PerfectPenis in my mind, from a distance of many months, it was no more significant, no more negative, than any other event in my life. I was happy to have experienced that. Would I endure the torture of castration again? YES. Could I endure it again? Probably not, it would likely kill me.

What is the measure of a man’s life? By what yardstick do you measure it? The yardstick of Male society: the personal accomplishments, the taxes paid, socially correct behavior, socially ethical living, great works?

By the Male yardstick, María is no better than the nastiest gutter slut, and I’m just a sicko pervert, my life wasted, a total failure by that yardstick, a yardstick that suppresses the natural sexuality of women. Imagine society sitting in judgment on my bisexuality, impotency, prostitution, castration, my thrill of watching multiple dozens of men fucking my wife!

What about a yardstick that allows a woman to express and realize her natural sexuality, a yardstick based on the vulva? Think how that society would be totally rearranged to accommodate that expression! And would the men that facilitated that expression be regarded as successful or failures?

Would all my perversions against Male ‘normality’ be regarded as a worthy contribution to a Female society? Is pleasing a woman a worthy yardstick for a man’s life? Not save the world, not rule a nation, not sculpt a Greek god in marble, not write the immemorial novel. Just please one woman. And she, in turn, would save the man. Every woman, every man. It’s the only yardstick for a man’s life. It had to be for me, it was all I could claim.

Except I had failed to adequately please María, I was still a failure. She selected me, I accepted my life duty to please her, but I had failed all along the way. A spectacular, unblemished history of failure. When I arrive at the pearly gates at my death, would my pleasing of the Estrella, of the estrellitas, of Marikarina, redeem part of my failure with María? It was my only chance left. I had to try harder with these exceptional women.

Is that the measure of a man?

Or

What is the measure of a man? The length and girth of his penis? Or the profundity of his vagina? Phallic coercion and violence or vulvate liberty?

Maybe humanity lost its vulva as far back as the Garden of Eden, liberty was suppressed, and the Penis has ruled since then. The entire recorded history of the world has since been catastrophic, the Penis has destroyed everything – the prima facie, de facto, irrefutable evidence of millennia of violence, war, collectivism, socialism, communism and fascism, a spectacular, unblemished record of deadly mayhem. The Penis would have killed off the vulva too, but needed a convenient place to masturbate and propagate itself. Humanity has lost its vulva, but I had found mine in María, the Estrella, Marikarina, maybe the estrellitas.

Why do collectivists hate liberty, hate humanity, hate the Vulva so fiercely. Maybe it’s their own sense of personal inadequacy, that they are nothing if not submerged in something bigger, and there, they can inflict their inadequacy on everyone else. Or maybe they are psychopaths or sociopaths. And why not? It worked for Hitler’s SS, for Stalin’s NKVD, for Mao’s Red Guard, for all the other collectivist and sociopathic systems that use war, genocide, democide, slavery, poverty, starvation, and the degradation of women as their tools. And for the US and European welfare systems who, finding unhappily that killing and slavery are out-of-fashion, grudgingly resort to theft by taxation, confiscation, impoverishments, cultural destruction, bureaucracy and regulation, enslavement through property control, and violence and coercion of every type to make their Penes stiffer. And by each freebie promised by current left-wing-nuts progressively shackling you, your children and their children, to slavery even before they are born. Link after link of shackles, your progeny will be born enchained and will never know anything different.

And always, of course, the Penis-women are right in there, doing their part, and like the men, claim to sleep well at night. Sociopaths all.

And as the first step always, the woman has to be suppressed, the Vulva made dirty. Is that the measure of a man?

I ran out of the library and vomited in the bushes, now resolved to redeem myself through the estrellitas.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 29 – Part 2, Marikarina’s Revenge

This is chapter 29, part 2 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 29 – Part 2, Marikarina’s Revenge

The next day, an express delivery boy delivered a small box to my apartment. It was from María’s black guy. My gold wedding band with ‘M’ carved within the square gleamed up at me. I flashed back to that ring stroking up and down over PerfectPenis’s penis, to that same ring cutting up my penis and testicles as he castrated me. Now it was freshly polished. I slipped it on my ring finger–why had María sent it? Perhaps it’s María’s signal we’re forever divorced? Perhaps her acknowledgment we’re still married? There was also a DVD in the box, with a yellow stick-um note from María’s black guy, “Too bad he didn’t kill you.” Charming. Why would he say that now?

From the dining room window, we had a sliver view into the center of Guatemala City. I always hated this city. It was ugly, polluted and dangerous; how did I end up here? Neither María nor I could live in Antigua again for a long time–we were immoral outcasts in that society. Maybe María was right, I should return to Guanajuato. I could wait for her there since her black guy won’t let her see me here anyway.

I’d ask Marikarina if she’d move with me back to Guanajuato. We could leave at the end of the school year, just a few months away. Her heart wasn’t really in medicine. She would become one of the fuck-fodder students, a most popular one, but still fuck-fodder. I’d support her studies in Guanajuato, whatever they might be.

I’d ask María if Marikarina could use her lingerie collection. She had dozens, if not hundreds of pieces there dating back to when we first married. Marikarina was about the same size, maybe a little smaller. I’d promenade her through the plazas, scandalizing the old women busybodies. I had left with a stunningly beautiful woman, and returned with a stunningly beautiful child. Wife, daughter, lover or prostitute? The men that had whored María were the same predators of naive university students. They would lust for her, hustle her, masturbate for her in their bathrooms while neglecting their wives. We’d get revenge for how they treated María.

Marikarina had a good sense of people, she’d know who the women are that were sexually starved by their husbands and might be willing to tryout a woman. We’d befriend these couples, she’d prick-tease the men to desperation and seduce their wives. When Marikarina impaled them, the wives would scream in pleasure. She’d pound them like a horny teenage boy, they be ruined for their husbands–what revenge! Too bad the hormone treatment had kept her sterile, it’d be great to impregnate them too. Then we’d break up their marriages. Marikarina was a María; I was sure she’d be more than willing to do this. She’d enjoy it and had her own axes to grind. It’d be her revenge as well.

She wouldn’t be like a freak there, no one would know she had a penis until she found other sexual partners. Or until she resumed hooking. She’d be a great hit there among men, she would easily find clients among the politicians, lefty professors and all the other morally challenged, confused and reprobates. We’d have a good life while I waited for María and while Marikarina found the ‘one’ for her. I’ll ask Marikarina, but will only go if she wants it too. She’ll have to leave me someday, but I’ll never, never give her away. Maybe love is never giving away the one you love.

I’ll show Marikarina María’s dance club videos so she’ll understand my desperation for María. I’ll show her all the videos of María and PerfectPenis in Guatemala so she’ll see how I lost María. I’ll show her the castration video so she can understand María’s hate for me. There’ll be no secrets, no lies, no hidden agendas with Marikarina. I won’t make the same mistakes with her that I made with María.

And I’ll send María her dance club videos if the Estrella hasn’t already. Won’t the black guy get a kick out of seeing his first encounter with María so many years ago!

That night, my last night with the Estrella, we were both totally upset, making wild promises, crying. My best attempts to suck her clitoris to orgasm failed, we lay embraced, silent. I obsessed about this question until I had to ask, “Who will brush and stroke your hair?” The Estrella answered by crying anew. We finally managed to drift into sleep.

Until I jerked awake. I saw María’s children, my children, laying in white porcelain trays, discarded as hospital waste. I wondered if they … the question I’d never be able to ask, “Were they girls?” María had said they were, but…

My mind kept churning. The Estrella had a new lover that seemed perfect for her, and I still loved her as she still loved me. The estrellitas had me to please them provisionally. They might come to love me, and I would love them until they found their ‘one’. I had just pledged myself to Marikarina, she would be taken care of, and loved as deep as death until she traded me in on her ‘one’. And María had … no one. Many men is the same as none. I had destroyed myself, of no consequence, but I had destroyed María, my woman of a lifetime, the woman I had pledged myself to. She had no one, just an endless series of men she fucked to hate me. She didn’t love them, not even the black guy. She loved me and I destroyed her, left her with nothing but men fucking her, her opiate to ease the pain of what I had done. An epic failure, a failure of an entire lifetime, nullifying even my right to exist.

I had to fix this, I had to get her back. I would send the Estrella to talk to her, to ask her to give me another chance. I would never leave her side, never give her away on pain of death. I would ask Marikarina to seduce her, to bring her back. María knew I could be enough for her, we could work it out, I just needed one more chance. However long it took, I would get her back and be enough for her. In the meantime, I wanted her to be safe, to not get risky with those men.

I fired-up my laptop and wrote María a message, just two sentences, ‘Please be careful, be careful with those men. I love you and want you back.’ I stared at the message, then erased the last sentence. I had tormented her yesterday, why torment her more? I appended, ‘BTW, you are NOT a whore, you ARE a Magnificent Slut. And from my heart-of-hearts, I tell you NO.’ I stared at the message for a few moments, then replaced the last word, NO, with YES. I was still not quite sure of what I meant to say, but it didn’t feel wrong so I sent the message and went back to bed.

The next morning, The Estrella and I followed the same ritual as always, I brushed and stroked her hair, but this time with my parting gift, a beautiful tortoise shell brush engraved with her name. As I stroked her face, neck, shoulders, and breasts, she commented,

“You must always, every day, stroke the hair of the estrellitas.”

“Yes, I’d like that a lot. I wonder if they’ll let me, that’d be nice.”

“No, no, you must always, always, always do that, every day.”

What! Why had she said that! The answer slapped me sideways–it was not for her, it was for me! Stroking her hair and skin was for me, to keep me sane! I thought I was pleasing the Estrella–nothing of that, she was saving me. I hadn’t had a mental regression since I came to live with the Estrella, she knew why and she was worried about me, about me!

My mind slipped towards the edge, I broke again. Her whorepool eyes captured me and I returned into her. I stroked her hair and wondered why she had bothered to save me, what was this old broken man to her, and I couldn’t stop stroking her shiny, soft hair. The mornings were when she was most Female; stroking her hair was my surrender to Female, my promise, my life pledge to her, the slow equivalent of the all-at-once pledge I had made to PerfectPenis. I owed her my life.

She finally gently eased away from my hands, dressed and left quickly without breakfast, I just sat there numb until I heard the door close. I shook myself, I was still together. I dressed, went down to our local grocery store, bought supplies for her for the next two months–it took two taxis to carry them two blocks. I wrote her a check for her expenses, then packed my few belongings, just two medium-sized boxes.

Thirty-five minutes later I entered my new home, found the empty bedroom, and dumped my boxes. I explored the apartment, it was a luxury model with three bathrooms. My bedroom was smallest, no closets, just a dresser. The walls of the room were adorned with crosses and religious paraphernalia, remnants of a previous tenant. My bathroom contained a bathtub-shower combination. I thought I could bathe the girls in the tub, if they let me, wash their backs, their legs, their breasts, their vulvae, shampoo their hair.

Then I thought of massage, and I went to unpack my laptop and did research on the Internet about techniques and tables. I’d go buy a massage table tomorrow, put it in my bedroom, and learn to give them massages–anything to keep my hands on their bodies. I’d spoil these girls for any other man, all others would just be casual penises. I wandered into the girl’s bedrooms, one of them was disorderly with yesterday’s clothes thrown on a chair. I picked up the panty, held it to my face, breathed in the fragrance and tasted its essence–I knew immediately which girl had this bedroom. I thought about an expression I had read somewhere, to the ancient Greeks, wine was ‘the nectar of the gods’. The Greeks had it all wrong, what I savored in this panty was the true sacred nectar.

I retrieved my gifts for the girls, the engraved tortoise shell hairbrushes, and placed them in their respective rooms–I so desired to brush and stroke their hair each day. These estrellitas had three years of residency ahead of them and I wondered how long they’d keep me. I’d give them no reason to tire of me, I’d cook for them, do their library research, help them chose good penises, dress them slutty like María, and I’d give them screaming orgasms. Still, they might tire of me after awhile, I was an old, ugly, broken gringo competing with handsome, fresh, young, strong penises.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 29 – Part 1, She was María Karina

This is chapter 29, part 1 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 29 – Part 1, She was María Karina

A burning in my lower leg jolted me from my mental haze. My foot was covered with ants and I jumped up swatting, stomping and brushing them off. A handful of indigenous children watched and laughed at my antics, clapping at the show. I looked at my watch–an hour had passed since María told me she loved me.

I called Marikarina,

“I just talked with María, she finally loves me. She’s fucking the black guy cause she loves me, but she doesn’t want me. Do you still love me? Can I come see you?”

“I love you more and I do want you, please come.”

“I should kill myself, will you help me?”

“I need you alive, please come now.”

I caught a taxi back to Guatemala City, and had it drop me off in the Zona 1. I went into one of the luxury oriental shops, bought four identical gifts, ordered them custom engraved, and left my address for delivery the next day.

Then I went to see Marikarina. Her housemate let me in, and I heard her talking on the phone, negotiating a price. For sex. When she signed off the phone, I walked into the room. And there she sat, astonishing, beautiful.

She was a María. María Karina. Marikarina.

And I was just an old, ugly, castrated, ordinary man.

After we made love, we talked about her life as I stroked her hair. She knew she was female from her first moments of consciousness. Her parents had initially tolerated her sense of femininity, mainly because she was strikingly pretty. As she grew older, they told her she was mistaken, God doesn’t make mistakes, her female fantasies would pass, and she could never truly be a girl.

As a teenager, her mother finally blew up, condemned her to hell, and refused to talk to her. Her father was more accepting–he agreed to pay for hormone treatments but said they couldn’t afford sex-change surgery. She took hormones that atrophied her testicles, enlarged her small breasts, and rounded her body. She became estranged from her family after fighting with her mother, and moved in with friends.

High school was worse–to her classmates, she was a beautiful, sexy freak. She was raped and sexually abused by her classmates, teachers and older men, and was ostracized by everyone. She found a transgender girlfriend, surgically converted to a woman, that called her a ‘him’, but he treated her nicely. When her father found out she lived with a queer, he cut her off, and forbade anyone in her family to communicate with her. She lived with her girlfriend for about two years, finished high school, started medical studies just a few months ago, and was reasonably content. Content until she met me at the Estrella’s party a few days ago, and miserable after I told her she was a beautiful woman when sucking her penis. Now she wanted me.

She wondered how she would have children, one day in some far future. I told her we’d ask the Estrella, but I thought if she changed her hormone treatment, her testicles and sperm production would return to normal, long enough to impregnate a surrogate mother.

I asked, “Why did you choose the medical field? Do you have a specialty in mind?”

“Because that’s where people treated me best, like a normal person. I’m not sure I want to continue though, it’s not what I expected. And you really have to love it or you won’t pass.”

“If your family isn’t helping you, how do you support yourself and your studies?”

“I do something unusual, I’m not going to tell you, you won’t like me if I tell you.”

“I’ll love you no matter what you do. Even if you’re a narco hitman.”

She joked, “Even if I’m a hooker?”

“Especially if you’re a hooker, I love whores and hookers. My María is both.”

She stared in disbelief and started crying. I thought, ‘Oh shit, I’ve found another María, and I’ve already screwed it up. If I lose this one, I die!’

Between sobs, she said, “I am, I am a hooker.”

When she stopped crying, she justified herself, explaining,

“A woman with a penis doesn’t get many job choices except with the weirdest of men and women. I have a small group of clients that treat me nicely and trust my discretion. They’re mostly homosexuals and lesbians. That’s how I pay my studies.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself. You’re doing nothing wrong. Do you like hooking?”

“Not at first, but yes, now I do. My clients, men and women, are great. They’re also rejects in society so we bond. They all think I’m a man, a transvestite, but that’s OK. You’re the only one that treats me like a true woman.”

“You are a woman. A penis is just an inverted vagina, your gender is in your head. Do you wish you had a vagina instead of a penis? Have you thought more about a gender change operation?”

“No, I like having a penis now. It’s me, what I was born with, and I like me. I sometimes wonder what I’m missing, what other women experience, but I’m OK with me.”

I had to be very careful with this next question. I didn’t want to lose this woman, and I always seemed to say and do the wrong thing,

“I’ve been thinking about an operation, to get a vulva and vagina, but I’d do it as a man. I’d stay a man. But I would never do it unless you wanted it. What do you…”

She cried again, “Would you really do that for me?”

“I’d be your man with a vulva if you want it. I’m not sure it’s still possible, I’d have to ask the Estrella, but yes, I’d love to do it for you. And for me, well, for us. I’d love for you to fuck me, in my own vagina.”

She cried full bore, with breathing spasms and coughing.

“Do you love me so much?”

Te amo hasta la muerte.” It was easy to say and I meant it. I had to, I was just one rejection away from killing myself.

Yo también te amo hasta la muerte. Now I belong to you.

“It doesn’t work that way. You’ll never be mine, you’re a free woman, and a free woman can never belong to anyone. She can chose to stay with a man, but she can always chose to leave. You have it all backwards. Here’s how it really works. Trust me on this, you’re still too young to know, but I’ve been there. Before you say anything, I want you to think seriously about this for a few days.

“It’s simple. A woman chooses a man. If the man accepts her, he gets on his knees, kisses her vulva, and pledges his life to pleasing her. He belongs to her, and she might keep him forever if he keeps his pledge, otherwise she discards him. That’s it, so simple.”

“Get on your knees.”

“Are you sure? I’m old and ugly and ordinary. I’m demented and I feel like dying every day. You should have a good talk with the Estrella, she knows me, she saved me, you don’t know how I am. And I’m still pledged to María.”

“Get on your knees and kiss my vulva.”

I did, crying and kissing and sucking.

“Guy ordinary, I choose you. Promise yourself to me forever.”

I was unable to talk, unable to pull my mouth from her inverted vagina, to stop crying. I merely stammered, “I do.”

It was enough. I had an owner again. I would be safe again. We made love again.

Marikarina went to shower, and I poked around her suitcases. Her clothes were old and worn. This was it, she had nothing. I guessed her clients didn’t pay much, and the schooling took it all. I now had three women to care for. I’d have to call my accountant tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to take them shopping, I’d have the sexiest, sluttiest harem in Guatemala. I checked Marikarina’s purse, she just had a few Quetzales. I took out all my money and put it in her purse. That would hold her until I asked the estrellitas if she could move-in with me. I was sure it’d be OK, I was sure they had planned this.

It was late and I needed to get back to my apartment, so I waited by the door for her to finish her shower. She came out nude, hair wrapped in a towel. She bent to one side, legs apart, in the most erotic pose of any woman. She shook her hair out, it dropped halfway to her hips. My groin cramped. She pointed to a hair dryer and said,”Well?” I ran to get it and dried and brushed her hair while she sat on the couch. I massaged her scalp and stroked her hair while she purred, drifting away to some never-never land where women were always pleased. She had an erection again, and I knelt before it to worship, sucking her to ejaculation. I was lost, she had won, I belonged to her.

I brought her purse and asked her to loan me some money for a taxi. She found my money and flared up,

“You’re not a client, I don’t want your money.”

“You’re my love, and that’s just the first gift of my pledge to you. Take it please, you need some money until we get situated. You’ll pay me back later.”

“Only as a loan, thanks. I haven’t taken any clients since I met you. Can I keep my clients?”

“You never have to ask me for permission ever for anything.”

“Will you feel OK if I keep my clients?”

“Yes, just a little jealous, but that will keep me burning for you.”

“You’re sure? I’ll be fucking other men and women–that won’t hurt you?

“Yes, it will hurt, and I’ll devour your soul and body to please you, to earn your love.”

“What happens to me if María comes back?”

“I’ll be busy. I’ll have two women to please.”

“Do you love her more than me?”

“Yes. She’s my wife, mother of my son, my woman for many years. I’ll love her until I die.”

“Can you love two women?”

“I already do.”

“She wouldn’t throw me out?”

“You don’t know María. When you meet, when she sees you, there’ll be an explosion. She’ll tear your clothes off and make love to you like nobody else. She’ll love your penis, she’ll have it deep into her throat. She’ll teach you something she calls the ‘ride’. You don’t know how powerful she is, she’ll capture you, you’ll be in love with her, you’ll crave her like I crave her. And I think she’ll be in love with you too. It will be the collision of two Magnificent Sluts. I’ll have to beg you both to let me stay.”

“Maybe we’ll throw you out. Maybe we’ll satisfy each other.”

“Fortunately, your penis is too slim, otherwise you just might. I’ll cry and grovel and kiss your vulvae, and you’ll have pity and let me stay.”

“Why did you call us ‘Magnificent Sluts’?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed to fit. It’s something María uses to describe herself.”

“It’s not a description, it’s a title. The title of ‘goddess’.”

“Of course, why didn’t I figure that out. The Sacred Whore Goddess I worship, Isis, was a Magnificent Slut and probably an Egyptian queen.”

“Would the ancient Egyptians consider a woman with a penis as a goddess? Am I a goddess?”

I knelt and touched my head to the floor, “Already, yes. I worship you. You’re my sacred whore goddess, Marikarina.”

She touched my back and I raised up. Her eyes were wet, but the tears didn’t obscure the most brilliant light in the universe, the glow in the eyes of a woman in love. I touched my head to the floor again and pledged myself to her, my master, her slave. I asked,

“How about a man with a vulva? Is he a god or goddess or just a freak to be played with by the gods?”

“I think … yes, a toy or a slave. Or a sacrifice. I’ll sacrifice you when your time comes. You know a man without balls is not really a man. The Estrella says María told her you weren’t even the real father of her son.”

“He’s my son as much as you’re a woman. Are you a woman?”

“The Estrella says María hates you, she’ll never come back to you.”

“If you knew how badly I treated her, you’d throw me out. I deserve her hate, but her hate is far deeper than hate can be. Her love for me hurts her so badly it feels better to hate.”

“Will you ever get her back?”

“Probably not for a long time, maybe never. She told me today she fucks other men to hate me, any man, and there are thousands of men out there. Maybe if she sees you, she’ll come back to me to get you. I think I know her well, she’ll be as in love with you as I am, she may come back to me for you.”

“Are you really in love with me, or am I just bait to get María back.”

“Whatever love means, I’m in love with you. You may not want me for long, I’m damaged, I’m not whole. I can’t live without a woman. María tore me apart and destroyed most of me. Without a woman to fill that hole, I can’t live. María is gone. The Estrella saved me for awhile, now she’s gone.” I wanted to cry, “Please, please be nice to me!”

“I do love you. I’ve already chosen you, and you accepted. We’ll be OK.”

“It hurts me she’s fucking all those other men. Her hate may never wear off. Please find her and seduce her and bring her back. I’ll give you my whole life for just another day with her.”

“You’ve pledged yourself to me – did you mean it?”

“Yes, for as long as you want me, for my whole life, I swear. Please just be nice to me.”

“I’ll bring her back to you.”

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

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If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 28 – Part 4, Love is Hate

This is chapter 28, part 4 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 28 – Part 4, Love is Hate

María clearly didn’t want to discuss fucking her brother, so I changed the subject,

“Why did you marry PP?”

“You know I never married him legally. When he brought the divorce papers, I was going to sign them and I asked PP if he would marry me. He laughed at me. He said he would never marry a whore like me, never marry a whore who had the initials of other men tattooed on her body. He said I was dirty, I had fucked too many men, more than one, more than just him, was too many. He said I had been perforated by so many men, I should look like Swiss cheese. He said Brett is a bastard and he could never accept him. His wife, nagging witch that she is, was a decent woman who had never known any other man.

“PP wanted me as a fucking toy, but mainly to destroy you. This is when our problems started, when I contacted my black guy. I never signed the divorce papers, we’re still legally married, although I’m married to PP through his tribe.”

“Why did you stay with him after what he said?”

“I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have you or anyone else. And he still had the perfect penis. He could take me to heaven better than anyone else. So I decided I would be his whore, the basest, nastiest whore in the world, just for him. And I was, until black guy showed-up. Look at him watching us. He’s a martial arts expert and he’s afraid of you. He saw the castration video and he thinks you should be dead.”

“So how did you feel when you saw the video? Did it make you excited?”

Silence.

“It did excite you, didn’t it?”

Her face exploded in fury, “I hated he hurt you. I hated it excited me, so much I wanted to fuck him to death. We watched it many times. I climaxed just watching, when he choked you, when he twisted up your prick, when he tortured you again and again crushing your huevos (eggs, balls). You twisted and jerked on the floor, screaming into your underwear, and I hated you for that and I wished he had killed you. I hated him and I hated you and I hated myself and I fucked him until the hate didn’t hurt so much.”

“You hated me? Why me?”

“Because you loved me, because you let him destroy you because you loved me. I knew then how much you loved me, that you were enough for me. You were the only one that ever loved me as deep as death. None of the other men ever came close. They wanted my body, they wanted to fuck me inside-out, they loved me, but not like you, not as deep as death. I wanted you then more than ever, but your genitals were destroyed and he owned you, and I hated you for that. When you were finally enough for me, it was too late. How dare you do that! You took away my one chance in life for a man that was enough for me. I hated you so I fucked him for destroying you and fucked him and fucked him and didn’t stop….”

Her black lover jumped up and ran towards us as she started crying, but she waved him off. She continued,

“See how he watches us? He’s afraid of you. He wants to hurt you. He said you shouldn’t have survived the castration, you lived because you loved me. He thinks you’ll take me away.”

I hugged her and we rocked gently together.

I said, “All I ever wanted was to be enough for you. But it’s over a long time ago, nothing can change it now, it’s OK, it has to be OK.”

But she wasn’t finished,

“And in Guanajuato, I begged you to stay, we were enough for each other finally, but you wanted him more than me. Then you brought me back to PP. You gave me away again. I hated you even more for that; I scorned you in his house, I fucked him in your face to hurt you. I hated you because you loved me that much, but we could never be the same as before. You cheated me out of what I had wanted my whole life. I still hate you, and now I fuck this black man because I hate you. I watch the video with him too so I can fuck him with rage for you. I cheat the black guy now so I can hate you more. Every man I’ve fucked since then has had your face, and I hate them. The hate burns me and I fuck them madly to relieve the pain for a moment, the orgasms make the hurt go away for a while. I can’t make love to any man, they all have your face, your ugly ordinary face, so I just fuck them. I cry when I fuck them. I let any man who has a hard-on fuck me because you can’t. You’ve made me the world’s biggest whore. And I’ll keep fucking other men forever because I hate you, and I’ll never, never have what I most wanted, and it hurts. You could have saved me. Why did you give me away? Why?”

She cried and gasped in huge spasms. I couldn’t answer that question, I’d have to kill myself, and I had no right to do that–Marikarina wants me. So I had nothing to say. We rocked on that concrete bench in the plaza beside the church in Ciudad Vieja. I thought, “This must be getting close, this is raw, this must be close to what love is–love is hating the one that loves you most–love is hate.”

She finally stopped crying, and sat there leaning into me. I said,

“If you ever wake-up one morning and realize you don’t hate me anymore, I’ll be still waiting for you. Marikarina will stay with me only for a while. She’s too young. She’ll meet a young, handsome man that craves a woman with a penis, and she’ll want him more. She’ll be afraid to tell me, but I’ll know, and I’ll kick her out to be with him. She’s not for me. You’re for me. I’m waiting for you now, and I’ll still be waiting for you until the last moment of my life.”

María started crying again. I continued,

“Since we’re confessing and apologizing, it’s my turn. I hurt and mistreated you in a thousand ways. It’s too late now, but I want to say that I know I did you wrong, and I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never be alone. No matter what or when, however long it takes or however old we are, you always have a place to go–to me. I’ll always take you back, even until the end of my life.”

She continued crying, and I said,

“I shouldn’t have said that, I had no right, I didn’t mean to upset you more.”

She cried harder, and said, “You don’t understand, you’ve never understood anything about me.”

Maybe she had loved me, maybe that’s what love is – enduring even the lack of understanding. I said,

“I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.”

And she said, “But you didn’t know it.”

“I know it now, can I have another chance?”

“No, never. Why do you stay here? Why don’t you go home to Guanajuato?”

“Come back with me. We can work it out, like you said before. We’ll go to the orphanage in León, choose some girls, some have been abused and they need our help. My mouth is better than ever, and the Estrella has given me lots of kissing practice. Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean…”

“Stop it, stop, it’s not the penises, it’s never been about penises. It’s not because you don’t have a penis. I can never go back to you because you gave me away one time too many. And I’ll never give you the chance to give me away again, never.”

“Now you don’t get it. How can I go back without you? My existence depends on you. My life flows from you. I can’t leave–what if something happens to you? You choose the wrong man?”

Silence. She would never come back.

I was desperate to hold on to any thread of hope, to break through her shell. I decided to lighten up the conversation,

“If we knew then what we now know, what would we have done differently?”

Silence.

I started, “First, I’d fuck you every day, just for the sheer pleasure of you, because I love and want you as deep as death. Brett would be my true son, and we’d have lots of daughters of every race and color, at least one of them mine. I’d clean other men’s semen from your vulva not because it humiliated me, but because they honored you, so I should honor them. And I’d brush and stroke your hair every day.”

María started crying hysterically, then screaming at me, a scream I had never heard before, primal, from her soul. I could barely make out the words,

“I killed them, the aborted babies, they were both yours, they were beautiful girls, I wanted them, but I killed them. I thought you didn’t want them, I was afraid you’d leave me…”

She choked-off, glaring at me through hate-filled eyes. She didn’t even have the decency to hit me.

I hugged her tightly, and the black guy came at us, mayhem in his eyes.

There was nothing left to say.

I looked up, the black man stood over us. I held on to her like it was my last day on earth. I thought she’d never release me, but when he took María under the arm, she rose up for him. He walked her to their car. And drove away.

Why had I said that? I upset her again, I always said the wrong thing to her, ripping scabs from old wounds I never realized existed. And for what? For some things, you never get a second chance, there is no ‘do it over’ for a failed lifetime, so why say it?

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 28 – Part 3, Confessions

This is chapter 28, part 3 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 28 – Part 3, Confessions

María hugged and comforted me. She said,

“I guess since we’re confessing again, this is a good time for me to say I’m sorry for destroying your life. Please just listen and don’t argue. It’s my fault you were castrated by PP. I knew he was dangerous and I knew he’d eventually try to castrate you. He’d done it before. Do you remember I told you about my first boyfriend, he was castrated by another man? That man was PP. When I met you, he had just castrated the kid and left the country. That’s why he didn’t come after you too. I guess you got me on the rebound.”

She continued, “I should have never put you two close together, but I wanted PP, and I thought I could control him. I balanced the danger to you against the sexual excitement. But I wanted you to control me too.”

I said, “You mean it was another game, a game of sexual manipulation of the men. After U&P, I didn’t want to play any more games, I just wanted you.”

She said, “I didn’t see it as a game, but I guess it was. PP was my lover in Antigua, long before U&P, even before the Pol, and it was just natural we fell back together after U&P. I was with him in Antigua every time I went to see my parents, every time I took a tour there.”

“So he was the missing mistress lover. That one was certainly not obvious. I don’t see how I could have known. I would have tried to stop it.”

“I hid him from you. It was easy since he was here. I shouldn’t have, but he was special, I couldn’t give him up. I didn’t see the harm–when I went back to Guanajuato, I was all yours. Almost.”

“Well, once PP poisoned me, I felt the same way. He was special. It wasn’t your fault. He played us both and he won.”

“No, it was my fault. I put you together with him. I wanted you to stop me, but, of course, you didn’t. I could have easily stopped it but I wanted to play. It excited me to watch how you reacted with him. I put you right on the very edge, to see who would tip over. I always thought it would be you, your love for me would win. But he was smarter, with the videos and the castration attempt at the lake, he provoked your humiliation weakness.”

“He had me figured out, he pressed all my buttons, hit all my weaknesses. He was my master.”

“It was my fault, I told him all about you. He knew exactly what to do. I even told him you were back in Guatemala at the lake. I told him you had a weakness for penises, you would love his penis like I do. I told him everything he needed to know to entrap you. He planned it out step-by-step. He’s relentless, once he decided, your castration was inevitable. It was my fault.”

“You knew he’d look for me at the lake? You knew he’d try to castrate me then?”

“I suspected … well, yes, I was pretty sure he’d go for you. I was so excited, waiting to hear from either of you, but I heard nothing and thought he hadn’t gone for you, or you had won.”

“I would have done anything for him to get him to leave you alone. Almost anything–he wanted to anus-fuck me on video tape so he could show it to the whole world, and I couldn’t, so I agreed to suck his penis instead. I think he knew I’d do that, and his beautiful penis enraptured me. Then he anus-fucked me anyway. But when he put his boot on my testicles, I felt like I had gone to heaven. He tried to crush my testicles and almost succeeded. I should say ‘we almost succeeded’. I wanted it as bad as he did. You don’t need to feel guilty. He drowned me in his penis and I gave my testicles to him until he finally crushed me.”

“Did you know he video’d what you did at the lake? No? You should have seen the desperation on your face, in your body, when he was grinding your genitals. He showed me the video months after your castration in the apartment. If I’d have seen that earlier, I would have given you to him much earlier. When you sucked his penis, you abandoned me. That’s why I always forbid you to have penises, not because I thought you were gay, but because I knew you wanted to be destroyed by a penis. For all the years of our marriage, you used me as bait to find the man that would destroy you.”

“And at the apartment?”

“I knew he intended to castrate you at the apartment because you wanted it too–he told me you asked for it. You were already finished by then, fallen way over the edge into his power, willing to be kicked to the gutter like you did to JerkFace. I guess I should confess everything now–I knew he would do it because I told him to do it, but only if you begged for it. You remember you asked me why I wore Jungle Gardenia? That was to celebrate his victory over you but also your victory over yourself.”

“But you knew I would beg him.”

“Yes.”

“He was even smarter than that. You and I could have survived the castration, but breaking my penis was genius. That was the end of us.”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. I had forbidden him to touch your penis. But it really didn’t matter, it was still the end of us. I wouldn’t keep a castrated man. You were castrated mentally and I had already left you. I only took you back to Mexico because he disobeyed me and ruined your penis. The irony was all that could have been avoided.”

“I don’t see how…”

“When we went to Antigua and you saw all my lingerie, and you found out about PP? That was intentional. I unpacked in front of you so you would find out and stop me. I wanted PP, I craved his penis, I was afraid that if I went just once with PP, he’d overwhelm me again. I wanted him but I wanted you to stop me more. We argued, I gave you all the reasons you should let me fuck PP, but I wanted you to say ‘no.’ All you had to do was say ‘no,’ and mean it in your heart-of-hearts. I would have known and you would have been enough for me. You would have saved me, the castration would never have happened, and we’d still be tightly together, enough for each other. But you were weak again, you let me have him again. He captured me again and I turned on you. It became a game.When we went to Lake Atitlán, I told him where we were. I wanted to get you as close to him as possible, right up to edge, knowing he might try to castrate you. I thought I could control him. But he made me crazy. We made the videos and photos, I was out of control with him. And he was smarter than me, he attacked you in a different way, through his penis, and he trapped you too.”

“I never knew he was the same guy from before. You could have told me he was dangerous. But you’re right, he hooked me with his penis. He was smarter than both of us. You needn’t apologize for the castration. After lake Atitlán, I knew he wanted to castrate me. I tried to help him do it then and I knew I’d help him again. He wanted to castrate me so I wanted it too. He also said he wanted to make you the world’s cheapest whore.”

“Did you want that too?”

“Yes, whatever he wanted.”

“Didn’t you ever think he manipulated you? That he wanted you to abuse me to break us up?”

“Ay, diós mio, is it possible? Ay, diós, I’m so sorry.”

“You succeeded. Were you happy?”

“I hated you for marrying him. Then I hated myself. He should have castrated me at the lake, then I wouldn’t have whored you out. But he finally got me. He video’d that, did you see it?”

“Yes, he showed me. He tortured you for a long time. He almost killed you. Just like he did with José.”

I lied, “What! He killed José?”

“No, he crushed his testicles, and broke his penis, like you. I found out later José was in the hospital when I came back to the apartment. His brother came from Buenos Aires and took him back there.”

“I told PP to destroy me and kill me. I thought I did it for you, so you’d be free of me forever. Your strong husband destroying your weak husband.”

“Yes, you were always weak. I guess I never could stay with a weak man. I didn’t like to be around them.”

“I’ve heard rumors you destroyed men’s genitals in the clubs when José pimped you?”

“I stepped on their pricks with red heels, like you always wanted me to do with you.”

“Because they paid you or you liked it?”

“I always regretted it afterward, but I loved it at the moment–it was always your prick I was grinding away. Some of them never told me when to stop, I don’t know why I went so far. They paid me…”

“I also heard your fucked your brother.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. And he wasn’t…urr…isn’t my brother, he’s nothing to me.”

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 28 – Part 2, What Love Is

This is chapter 28, part 2 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 28 – Part 2, What Love Is

I dumped PP’s genitals into a jar and added alcohol. The alcohol clouded with blood and PP’s testicles floated out of the sac when I swirled the jar around. I sent a message to the Estrella asking how to contact a taxidermist. I’d display his genitals proudly in my room, with his name in big letters on the plaque.

* * *

I received a message from Rosa. Brett had caught her cheating, he had moved out, and she wants my help. I reply I’ll try, in exchange for a fuck. Of course, I don’t really mean that, at least I don’t think I do. In any case, I can’t fuck, but I’d love to put my face in her vulva again. But I don’t really mean it, I don’t want to fuck my son’s wife, I just want to see what she says. When she says “yes” in her return message, I’m saddened but not surprised.

I will help her, I’ll talk with my son, try to convince him there are much worse fates than living with a slut. Rosa is an amazing woman, a truly great slut, he should keep her. If I were him, I would die to keep her. I won’t tell him to give her just one more chance, because she’ll need an infinity of new chances. I’ll tell him to get used to it, to learn to enjoy it. Neither our son nor Rosa know María left me for PP, that PP castrated me to take her–this will be a difficult conversation with my son. He should keep Rosa, she’s an incredible slut. I decided to ask María for advice.

I called María and we decided to meet that afternoon in Ciudad Vieja. I caught the buses to Ciudad Vieja, and met María and her black lover beside the Temple. We sat on the concrete planters around the trees in the courtyard. Copulating beetles scurried by, mocking me with what María and I should have been doing. The Temple’s crosses threw shadows on the ground that advanced towards us like pitchforks. María still wore our engagement ring and wedding band. At least the black guy didn’t wear my wedding band.

I started the conversation by threatening her lover–I told him I was still her husband and I’m bound by law and by love to protect María. He can fuck her all she wants, but if he ever mistreats María, I’ll have him killed. If he wants to leave her some day, he should do it nicely and cleanly, but never mistreat her.

The black guy and María looked at each other and smiled and he graciously accepted the opportunity to step away when I asked for privacy with María. María was unperturbed by my threats to her lover – she said he was an international martial arts competitor, and he’d easily tear me to pieces if I provoked him.

We discussed our son’s and Rosa’s situation. We decided I must convince our son it’s a woman’s very nature to have multiple lovers, it’s normal, and it won’t diminish Rosa’s love for him, or my granddaughter. María gave me permission to progressively reveal aspects of our own marriage–that she was a hot, sexy dancer that fucked her dance partners, she had multiple casual lovers that I knew about and helped her control these affairs, and so on.

As a last resort, I could reveal I wasn’t his true father. Our son surely knew María had cheated me on occasion. In San Francisco, she came in late some nights, clothes, makeup and hair totally messed-up and he saw that. After those nights, he was upset for a few days and would argue with and disrespect her.

I shouldn’t ever tell him María left me, I had been castrated, or any other outcome that reflected a bad ending to slutty behavior. We wanted them to stay together, and for our son to give Rosa the same freedom I had given María. Of course, the truth was María had forcefully taken her freedom from me. I wanted to tell our son Rosa was a special slut and he should grovel at her vulva, but I didn’t know how to say it.

* * *

María said, “The Estrella told me you have a woman with something very special.”

“Yes, she’s staggeringly cute, what you must have looked like before I met you. She makes men’s groins twist-up inside just like you do. She looks like she’s 16, she provokes the latent pedophile in all men, but she’s in first-year med school, so I guess she’s legal age. She won’t tell me her age, and I can’t imagine what she wants with an old, crippled man like me. And she has a penis–I guess that’s the special thing the Estrella mentioned.”

“He’s a transvestite.”

“No, she’s a woman”

“Urr, ok, does she love you?”

“She says she loves me. I’m the only man that has ever understood her.”

“But she doesn’t have a vulva, and you don’t have a penis. How will you fuck her?”

“She said she loves me. Maybe a woman with a penis needs a man with a vagina. I’ll ask the Estrella if I can still do that.”

María joked, “If you have a vulva, and can kiss like a woman, wow, that’s a temptation. Let me know–as long as you let me have as many penises as I want.”

“I always have.”

“Do you love her?”

La amo hasta la muerte.” (I love her as deep as death).

“More than you loved me?”

I laughed, “You mean more than I love you now. No, not even close. No other woman could ever get close to you. But she’ll do just fine until I get you back.”

“Well, you need to choose carefully, you may get stuck with her because I’ll never come back to you. But the Estrella said she was beautiful and simpática. I’m not surprised she has a penis. I always thought a penis would finally get you. I knew from the start you would be weak for penises, that’s why I forbade you to touch them.”

“Just like you are weak for vulvas? I bet you have woman lovers now. Wait till you meet her – she’ll twist up your groin like she does mine. You’ll fight me for her, then you may get lost in her vulva, urr, her penis. Weak for penises? I wasn’t homosexual, if that’s what you meant. Marikarina is like you. Only a penis attached to a woman like you could ever knock me over. Her penis is really a confused vulva, and I’m the one who’s confused. But I’d trade that for you in an eye-blink, even if you don’t love me anymore. Did you ever love me?”

“I wanted you since the first moment I saw you. Why do you think I tormented you continuously? I flashed my body at you, teased you, tempted you every way I could. But you were so slow, unsure, you could have had me long before–how could you not have known I wanted you?

“That’s called prick teasing, and I was the prick. But that’s not what I asked. You wanted me, but did you ever love me?”

“What’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference! I don’t know. I thought you’d know. Women always know, have to know. You have to tell me, I’ve wanted to know this my whole life. You have to tell me!”

“I don’t know, I thought you would tell me someday.”

I still didn’t know what love is and she didn’t know so she couldn’t save me. Maybe it wasn’t our fault, maybe it was that holy-roller’s penis in my mouth when I was six, or maybe her father’s finger in her vagina when she was three. But no–we could have, should have, gotten beyond that. It was us, there was no one else to blame.

* * *

We sat in depressing silence for a few moments. I asked, “So how did you find this black guy?”

“You sent me to him.”

“What?”

“You remember the first black man that seduced me at the salsa dance club right after we got married? We talked about him before PP and I went to Rio de Janeiro.”

“Yes, of course, how would I ever forget him, he was my first penis suck. He almost converted me to joto!”

“Well, in Rio, the beach was full of muscular black guys in speedos, and I fucked a couple before PP caught me.”

“Once a whore, always a…”

“Don’t you dare say that!” she laughed, “When we returned from Rio, I contacted the dance club black guy, and we started again.”

“But how did you find him?”

“You gave him to me. While you were in France, I went through our old photos and memories. Do you know you have hundreds of photos of me and us from when we were first married? Well anyway, I found your favorite books from that time, and his phone was on a note you used as a bookmark in the book you always wanted me to read…”

“The Magus.”

“No the other one, something about Zen…”

“Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.”

“Yes. I recognized his name on the bookmark and kept the note. When we returned from Rio, I called the number, got his sister, who gave me his phone. When I called him, he immediately remembered me, and he came here to see me.”

“After all these years, just like that?”

“He left his wife and kids and never returned. We put him here in Ciudad Vieja, close by but out of PP’s sight.”

“We?”

“Me. I took money from PP to support him. I spent my afternoons with him while PP worked in Guate city, it was heaven.”

“Once and always a slut.”

“Yes, always a slut. PP discovered us, of course, and hit me. And I moved here with him.”

“I´m sure PP won’t bother you again. Was the black guy worth it? Is he that good?”

“Better in some ways. He’s not as energetic as the first time, but has a smoothness and softness now that’s delicious. The funny thing is we’re not really in love, at least I’m not in love. We just love to fuck each other, and he makes me forget my hurt. He remembers you, your first penis suck. He thought you were totally insane, letting him fuck me, then sucking his penis. You were … we were, insane then.”

Now I was crying.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 28 – Part 1, Double Revenge

This is chapter 28, part 1 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 28 – Part 1, Double Revenge

The next morning, I got the Estrella ready for her shift at the hospital, I brushed and stroked her hair and skin interminably until she said I would make her late. I had her drop me in the Zona 6, made a call and waited for my ride. While I waited, I reviewed my plan over and over. Risky, but I saw no flaws. Minutes later, two sicarios (hitmen) picked me up and we headed towards PerfectPenis’ office.

There was another plan afoot—the sicarios stopped outside our old sex dance club and another man climbed in. I was shocked to see José again, the former chief bouncer and María’s lover. I wasn’t entirely pleased. I asked, “What are you doing back in Guatemala?”

“I heard from the club owner María had died and you and her daughter had returned to the club asking about María. He had her daughter’s phone and I called her. She told me the whole story, and now I’m here to kill PerfectPenis.”

“The Estrella is not her daughter, she’s my lover …”

“Yes, yes, I know and María is not dead. I just got into town last night, called in a few old favors and discovered your contract on PP. Now I’m here to help you get your revenge. Then I’m going to get María and take her back with me to Buenos Aires.”

“That won’t be as easy as you think, What’s your beef with PP?”

“When I went back to get María years ago, he sucker punched me, said he was María’s brother, invited me in and black-jacked me from behind. When I woke up, he had cut-off my balls and broke my penis, just like you.”

“You had no right to be with María. You were supposed to protect her when I asked you to rescue her. For that matter, in the club, you were fucking her behind my back, you were supposed to be her protector.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Guy. She seduced me. She was the biggest slut in Guatemala. And the best. I think all the bouncers were doing her and who knows who else. She said you knew and you liked it. You could have stopped it at any time, but you let her do it, so we just took advantage. Why not?”

“Why did your leave her?”

“Her stripper girlfriend had stolen your wedding rings. She called and asked Maria for money. When Maria went, she wanted money second and Maria first. She gave Maria gonorrhea, who gave it to me. I freaked out and left for a couple of days. When I came back to get her, that’s when this guy castrated me. I never knew who he was, now I’m here to kill him.”

“Still you betrayed me, you were supposed to rescue her, not make her the town whore.”

“You’re lucky PP broke me. I was going to keep her, take her to Argentina. You would have never seen her again.”

“Well, there are two of us that want to kill him. I guess I’m glad you’re here. I can use your help. I have an idea. If my plan works out today, you can have the coup de grâce.”

* * *

Just like María had told PerfectPenis about me, she had told me all about him. I knew his greatest weakness, his granddaughter that he loved more than his own life. From the stationary and correspondence I stole from his house, I had forged a letter from PP’s son to his granddaughter’s child care.

I checked my watch – just a few minutes before, a well-dressed woman accompanied by a private security guard should have picked up his granddaughter. I looked at my watch again, just as my phone rang–the sicarios reported they had her.

We arrived at PP’s office and parked half a block away, hidden beyond some trash cans. I told the sicarios to come in exactly five minutes, and I went and rang. PP was surprised to see me, but let me in. I sat and he said,

“You’re really not welcome here, what do you want? You want to suck my dick again?”

I squelched my desire to do just that, steadied myself, and calmly explained, “From this moment, you belong to me. I’m still María’s husband, bound by law and by love to protect her. Here, take a look through this folder.”

I passed him the list I had compiled of all his direct-line descendants, his entire seed, children and grandchildren with addresses, schools and places of employment.

“I intend to kill you and your entire seed. This won’t be the first time I’ve killed, I’m sure you know what I mean. If you ever hit María or bother her again, you and all your descendants will die, your dear beloved wife Hilda will get everything. This is a promise. You’re proud and stupid, so I know you’ll try something stupid, and you will all be killed.”

He reached into a drawer and extracted a revolver, laying it on the desk.

He said, “I could kill you right now…”

“And you and all your descendants will die. The contract is already out and paid for, and if I don’t stop it, you’ll be slaughtered. If anything happens to me or Maria or any of my friends or family, your family will be wiped out. Now, I need you to make me believe you believe I’ll do it.”

He smirked, “Maria has left me, you can get her back, if you can…”

“You’re a fool. I let you pervert me, castrate me so you could make María happy with your ‘perfect penis’. You destroyed me for nothing, I kept my promise, my pledge to you, all the way through to bringing you my testicles in a trophy sculpture. I did all that for nothing, you threw her away again by your jealousy. Look at me, look in my eyes. I’m mad, I’m your angel of death!”

I saw the first flickers of fear in his face, I meant the threat and I think he believed me. He seemed to shrink and age as I watched. How our positions had changed! Just a few months ago, I was naked on my knees in front of him, kissing his genitals as if he were a god. Now, he was growing small, ugly, old, afraid and insignificant. He wasn’t perfect anymore, I felt powerful in front of him. I felt a presence in my groin–I had got my penis back.

He said, “Is that it? I don’t care about you or Maria anymore, get your money back, no one will bother you. Now if you’re done, I have work to do.”

“No, I actually have one more request for you. Before I tell you, I want you to call your son, ask him where his daughter is, if she’s safe.”

PP picked-up the revolver, “If you ever touch her, I’ll tear you to…”

“Make the call!”

PP made the call, told his son he’d wait for the answer, waited a few minutes, then hung up.

“What do you want?”

“We need to even the score. Now listen carefully, if you don’t do exactly as I say, we will kill her, and not nicely. She will be raped in every orifice until she dies, then we’ll throw her body in a sewer. I’ll join the rape with a broomstick or baseball bat. We’ll video tape the rape and send it to her parents.”

“I’ll hunt you down and…”

“You and all your family will be dead first.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m going to leave here in a few minutes. As I leave, I’ll make a call, and you’ll have exactly five minutes to complete what I tell you. After five minutes, the rape begins. I hope they don’t kill her before I get there. If you do what I say, she’ll be safe at home within 15 minutes.”

“I’m listening.”

“When I leave, you’ll call one of your employees in here, and have him sit over there. He’ll be the witness for what you do. You’ll tell him to call an ambulance and report a serious injury. Now hand me my folder and remove the item from this bag.”

He opened the bag and took out a white hand towel, his face registering confusion.

I continued, “After he calls the ambulance, you’ll swivel facing him, Stand, drop your pants, and sit. Then you’ll use this.”

I threw the item on the desk, the same thin wire garrote he had given me months ago to amputate my genitals. I said,

“You know what to do. Cut off all of it in a single motion. You only have a few seconds before you go into shock. Immediately pick-up your genitals and put them in the bag. Cover your wound with the towel. Then order your employee to immediately throw the bag in the trash on the corner, then return to wait for the ambulance. That’s the most important part, to throw the bag in the trash can, but that has to be done within five minutes. When that’s done, and I have the bag in my hand, your granddaughter will be immediately released, completely unharmed. Otherwise, the first penis will be bursting open her vagina.”

“You are crazy, I’ll never do that. I can kill you right here, you’ll never make that call. And we’ll ransom her back.”

I went to the door and opened it. The sicarios came in pointing shotguns at PP. Behind them entered José with a pistol. PP turned green when he recognized José.

“You’ll do nothing–we’ll kill all of you with pleasure. Now put down the gun, stand up and move over there … Good. The first blast will rip off your groin. You’ll be castrated anyway. The next blast is for your face. Where they shoot you afterward is up to them, I don’t care. You stupid idiot, you could have saved your granddaughter’s life and yours.”

I picked up the revolver, and moved to the door, “Give me a few seconds then kill him.”

PP dropped to knees, “Wait, stop, I’ll do it, anything you want, please, just don’t hurt her.”

“Ok, you know what to do, you have five minutes, your genitals in the bag in the trash outside. Now, don’t think, just act.”

I faked a cell call and said only, “Five minutes”, then walked out the door followed by the sicarios and José.

We walked down the street to our car. Barely 15 meters away, we heard yelling in the office. By the time we got to the car, several men and women were yelling, and moments later, a young guy came flying out of the office, ran towards our car and threw a bag at the trash. He missed, the bag scooted along the sidewalk almost even to our car. José got out, retrieved the bag, and handed it to me. I looked in, and said, “Let’s go.”

As we drove, I called and said, “Take her home.” It had been mostly a bluff. The girl would have never been touched, and there was no contract beyond killing PP. I had to kidnap the girl to make the bluff believable, PP was the only one to be hurt. If he didn’t fall for the bluff, we would have killed him, otherwise he would have killed me and my family and maybe even María. Now I had his genitals, and he believed the bluff was real. He would live in fear the rest of his life, and would never dare to seek revenge. And he would never fuck another woman again, forever. An appropriate punishment for hitting María.

One of the sicarios commented to no one, “Too bad, the little girl is cute, I’d have liked to poke at her.”

José asked me, “When can I kill PP?”

“Wait till he’s released from the hospital. He’ll be at his ex-wife’s place. He’ll be an easy target. Take our friends here with you, they’re welcome to PP’s ex-wife. She’s sexy but evil. Give it to her hard, front and back, but otherwise don’t mess her up too bad. I think my contract adequately covers that. The girl is just for me.”

The girl was a bluff, I could never touch her in spite of her genes. I saw her at the child care, beautiful long wavy hair, big brown eyes, she would be a María-spirit, maybe even a María. If she were my granddaughter, I would worship her.

* * *

Back in the Zona 6, I paid-off the sicarios, and José and I walked to a bar for a celebratory drink. We sat at the bar, tossing down shots of rum Zacapa Centenario, admiring PP’s bloody genitals in the bag. He said, “I understand why you get so crazy about María. I think about her all the time. I know she’ll never come back with me and you shouldn’t count on it either. She gets crazy with sex, she craves pricks, wants one inside her all the time, and does loco stuff when she’s hot.”

loco stuff?”

“Men paid her big bucks to step on their genitals. Some got more than they bargained for, she destroyed their penises, grinding them under red heels. I even saw her fuck her brother once.”

“What?!?”

“Yeah, she nude lap-danced him until he was burning up, she put his hands on her breasts and butt and between her legs. I watched all this. He fingered her, he was panting and crazy and desperate. She opened his pants, pulled out his prick and pumped him up, then she bent over. He jumped up, smacked into her, and banged her just three or four times before he blew. I barely had time to open the doors. He was screaming, ‘devil bitch, evil whore’, and she was crying.”

“Open the doors?”

“Yeah, they were in the little lap dance cube in the private lounge, and the town mayor and a bunch of political hot-shots were in the lounge, watching him screw his own whore sister. She wanted to ruin him with his own hypocrisy.”

“Oh, jeez. She was my wife, you should have taken care of her.”

“Yeah, whatever. Your wife was Guatemala’s biggest and best whore. I should have kept her but she was too out-of-control for me. You want her – I hope you get her back.”

My penis stub was pulsing and José’s face oozed raw sexual desire. I asked him, “Can you be sucked-off?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Let’s go to your hotel.”

José’s penis was broken much like mine, twisted into crooked sections. He tried his best on me first, it was just passable. Then I gave him the best penis suck of his life–until he jerked back with the first spasm of ejaculation and I nipped him with my front teeth. He reflexively punched my penis and I punched his back in anger. We took turns punching each other’s penis. He was much stronger than I and mauled my penis with exquisite pain. I wanted it all over and I begged him to kill me. He went loco and beat my body and penis with the rage of a man whose penis once commanded the respect of any woman, including my María. Our once virile, now useless, appendages were a gift from PP for which he would die.

The pain of José’s blows was delicious. I quit fighting and told him to never stop. He beat me until until he collapsed crying, calling out for deliverance by María. I called out for the deliverance of death. We both suspected if María had to choose between these two cripples, she would chose José. José had beaten me not for what PP had done to him but for the far greater crime I had done—I kept María from him for several years.

That’s when I finally understood—PerfectPenis was PoisonPenis but María was an addictive poison too. Once she gets in your system, you’re never free again. I watched José blubbering on the floor. He was just the medicine I needed at that moment, but he would never give me the deliverance I wanted. Only María could legitimately do that, and I existed only to please her.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Chapter 27 – Part 2, Woman with a Penis

This is chapter 27, part 2 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 27 – Part 2, Woman with a Penis

As promised, by 9:00 PM the next evening, about 25 girls crowded into our apartment. They were all from the med school, ranging in appearance from super ‘guapa’ to pretty plain. The Estrella was among the top three in attractiveness. All, except for two indigenous girls, were dressed in sexy costume-party attire, complete with garter belts and thigh-high hosiery, and since we didn’t have but a few chairs, many sat cross-legged on the floor, legs and lingerie in full view everywhere. They didn’t seem to care that I looked and mentally drooled over them–they knew I had a broken penis and no testicles. I figured that was why many of them were there, to see what a broken man looked like. I already knew a few of the girls, including the ‘estrellitas’—they smiled knowingly at me as they remembered my mouth in their vulvae.

This was a girl-on-girl costume party and I had heard the med students gave the wildest parties. I was not disappointed. In spite of the rum punchbowl, loud Latin music and energetic salsa dancing, I quickly realized I was the prime attraction. Several girls joked I was overdressed, even though I wore only shorts and a T-shirt. In short, they expected me to get nude, and the more they drank, the higher their expectations.

The girls began dancing seductively, flirting with each other. Of course, the Estrella had chosen only lesbians, bisexuals and wannabes for guests and they were already deep kissing and fondling. The Estrella watched me circulate among the girls, serving drinks and finger foods. She twinkled and laughed, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort at being the object of curiosity. Our relationship had progressed such that we could do that and love each other for it. I adored her.

But I was most intrigued by another girl–she was the most attractive, the super-’guapa’. Every time I looked at here, I had a deja-vu flash I couldn’t identify. She wore a short plaid, pleated skirt, a thin, off the shoulders blouse with elastic neckline, thigh-high white hosiery with a frilly black garter belt and lace straps supporting the hose. A large plaid bow in her wavy, shiny hair and five-inch heels completed her outfit. The skirt barely covered the top of the hose, and every movement of her body danced her skirt above the garter straps below.

The flash became a flash-back. She was the mirror image of María on some occasion in our early years, with that fierce cuteness that had overturned my world and changed my life completely. But this girl looked even younger, too young to be in medical school, not really old enough to be of legal age. And her eyes followed me wherever I went. Her name was María Karina, nicknamed Marikarina, and her gaze lit that old fire in my groin, what was left of it. I judged her to be a full María.

As the evening progressed, the dancing grew crazier, and some of the girls were getting antsy, and I wondered just what type of show the Estrella had planned for me. Someone called out, “Guy, the Estrella said you have a fantastic mouth – let’s see what you can do with these.” It was Marikarina talking. She had removed her blouse and was unhooking her bra. Her bra was purely for decoration. Her breasts were too small to need a bra, not even an A-cup, and she had small, pale nipples and areolas. This just reinforced my impression she was underage, and I looked over at the Estrella. She smiled and gave me the thumbs-up.

I walked to Marikarina – her breasts were small but well-shaped and symmetrical–I loved them. I reached for her, but she said, “You’ll have to undress first.” That took all of 8 seconds, and I ignored the collective gasp when my mutilated genitals were exposed. A fierce tittering broke out among the girls, none of which I really heard–I was on my knees attempting to capture Marikarina’s nipples with my tongue. Marikarina watched my mouth for a few seconds, then closed her eyes and drifted away. I ignored the buzz around me and concentrated on those beautiful small breasts, licking and sucking. I was as hot as a man with damaged genitals could ever hope to be. Marikarina held my head and steered me from side-to-side between her breasts. Her small nipples engorged, reddened, and she pressed her body against me.

Marikarina finally pushed back my head, and said, “The Estrella was right, you have a great mouth. Let’s see what you can do with this.” She unzipped her skirt, hooked her skirt and panty with her thumbs, and dropped them both in a single movement. Her body had a magnificent hourglass shape, smooth curves, and flawless skin. My eyes moved down to her smallish but well-formed erection, a beautiful erection. The chatter in the room stopped instantly, I heard Marikarina’s rapid breathing.

It took me a moment to realize something was amiss, yet it still felt right. Her penis was feminine, beautiful, long, dark and slender. The scrotum had pulled up tight so the testicles and sac were hardly visible. I looked at the Estrella, then at the girls around the room. Everyone there knew about this except me–this was the show. I looked back at the Estrella, she smiled and relaxed. I reached forward and held Marikarina’s hips in both hands, leaned in and kissed her penis lightly, then began licking her penis. The noise exploded again in the room. I pulled Marikarina to the floor on her back and began to devour her penis. Exactly how a great mouth should do. As I licked and sucked, I remembered María’s prohibition and my oath to her. But she was not a man, she was Marikarina, a María, and I was bewitched.

Marikarina was definitely a María for the man who wanted a woman with a penis – she easily passed the dirty dish rag test with me.

Marikarina shuddered and ejaculated, and I sucked every drop out of her penis as she became flaccid, pulling and stretching on her penis. Then I lay half on top of her, and put my mouth to work kissing her. She kissed me back like she loved me. I knew she loved me, and great waves of joy washed over my body. Maybe that’s what love is: sucking the penis of the sexiest girl at the party. I told her between kisses she was the most amazing woman I had met in many years.

After awhile, Marikarina wriggled out from under me and sat up. I looked around and saw most of the girls had paired-up and retreated into corners to kiss and caress. I saw bare breasts, buttocks, lingerie, and the occasional vulva everywhere. This had become a real sex party. The Estrella and the ‘estrellitas’ were a threesome, shifting hands, mouths and vulvae as they squirmed together.

Marikarina said, “That was fantastic, the best I’ve ever had. Now it’s my turn. She was erect again, rolled me over, spread my legs, magically produced a condom and lubricant, and penetrated me. I didn’t feel any pain, just the sensation of movement in my groin. I sniffled, suppressed the urge to cry, letting those waves of joy flood over me again. I was delirious, crazy–I had found a María once again. Life would be good again.

The Estrella appeared, caressing my back, and kissing my neck while Marikarina stroked into me. When Marikarina ejaculated and withdrew, I lay there basking in love. The Estrella rolled me over and caressed my chest. Marikarina lay besides me. Several girls came over to examine and fondle my genitals. I asked Marikarina if she could throat me, her penis was a perfect size for that. She said she had never tried—she would ask her boyfriend to practice with her, and when she could escape again, we would do it.

The Estrella wanted to talk, “The guy that’s been coming to see me every week? He told me yesterday he loves me, he asked me for a commitment. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, but I won’t commit to him without your OK.”

“Do you love him? Does he burn you inside?”

“Yes, more than that, I think he’s the one for me, finally.”

“What would he think of you at this party?”

“He knows. He knows about my ‘points’ and my lovers, men and women. He knows about you, that we sleep together and what your mouth does to me. He says he can live with that as long as all pregnancies are his. He says I’m a free woman, and he hopes I’ll choose him.”

¨That seems very reasonable.”

“Was that your deal with María? Pregnancies had to be yours?”

“No, we had no deal other than her rules: she would do whatever she wanted and I would accept it. I don’t think Brett is my natural son, but he’s still mine.”

“Would it have mattered if she had other children by other men?”

“No, men’s genes don’t matter. If it comes from her womb, it’s mine. Do you believe your boyfriend?”

“I told him I’d get fucked tonight, and he said, ‘Enjoy yourself, but remember who really loves you.’”

“You don’t need my approval, I exist to please you. I’ll support you whatever you do.”

I looked around again. Most of the girls were nude except for their garter belts and hosiery. The two indigenous girls had lost all their clothing. One was on all fours, her derriere in the air, face buried in her skirt on the floor. A Ladino girl swirled two fingers around in her vagina, alternately stroking and rotating. The other indigenous girl lay on her back, breasts beacons to the sky, while a Ladino girl worked her vulva with her mouth. The look on her face was as much anguish as ecstasy–she violated an ancient Mayan taboo, divorcing herself from her culture, and she knew she’d never fit in again.

I turned to the Estrella, told her I adored her, and asked her to ditch the guy and marry me. She said, “Of course, but first you have to do something with that great mouth for me. And several other girls are waiting for you too.” I did as I was told, and when her thighs released my head, Marikarina’s penis took the next turn in the Estrella’s vulva. Life was good again.

I feasted on a succession of vulvae, each a different flavor, like a kid in a candy store. I noticed Marikarina was as popular as I, pleasing the girls as I no longer could. She passed a lot of time stroking into and deep kissing the Estrella. Later she did the same with an indigenous girl, but the girl insisted Marikarina should not wear a condom. I’ll never understand women. I took the indigenous girl next, and gave her my whole semen-cleaning ritual. As I finally drifted off to sleep, Marikarina was mounting estrellita-blondie, power-fucking her with the energy of only the young.

I swirled in bizarre dreams, re-lived the gang-rape of María with Larry and Drew and Terri, and jerked awake with a yell. I reached for the Estrella, but I was alone on the floor. Marikarina was dressed exactly like María the day we gang-raped her. The Estrella had dressed Marikarina like that just for me. But why? One of the girls opened her legs, called to me and I crawled over to please her.

The next morning, I awoke on the floor reeking of vulvae and rum, and my head was splitting. The Estrella had already left for work, and I sat at the table drinking coffee, watched several nude girls on the floor sleeping, and wondering what had happened. The very thought of kissing a man’s mouth or body was repugnant. Yet I felt happy about Marikarina. She was not a man, just a great woman with whom nature had made a cruel mistake. I started cleaning up, cups, plates, food fragments, lots of clothes. I kept all the panties for my personal collection. I drained the punchbowl in the sink, and discovered gel-cap residue in the bottom. They had spiked the punch with some drug–you should never trust anyone at a med-school party.

Marikarina was a María-spirit. She would have been an authentic María except for her genital mismatch. Like María, she could free me from other prisons if I followed her. Conventional morality could not contain these women. I was blessed.

* * *

The next day my cell phone rang – I immediately recognized Marikarina’s voice and my groin contracted in pleasure. She said,

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Can we get together and try out the deep-throat you wanted?”

The tension in my groin began doing somersaults, and I felt the volcano warming my body.

“Yes, absolutely, I’m in the ‘Zona 7’, is your place nearby? I’ll come right over.”

“Well, I don’t have a place anymore. My boyfriend heard about the party, and he threw me out last night after a brutal fuck this morning. I’m at a friend’s house for the moment. I thought maybe I could move-in with you.”

Now my whole body shook and burned with desire. But this could never work.

“But you’re so young, I could easily be your father. How old are you?”

“Old enough to be in a residency in med school. Old enough to make my own choices, to choose the right man for me.”

“Yes, but why me? I’m old, ugly and deformed. There are dozens or hundreds of young men at the school.”

“Because I felt your love for me. That you understood me. Do you love me?”

“I did love you, I do love you. I don’t know if I understand you or any other woman, I always get stuff mixed up, yes, I love you.”

I had told Marikarina I loved her. I said those treacherous words without hesitation, meaning be damned. I doubt if anyone knows what love means. It’s much easier to say if you don’t know the meaning or if it means nothing at all. I should have realized that decades ago, when I really needed to say it to María.

Marikarina replied, “You’re the only man that understands truly I’m a woman. Will you take me to live with you? I promise I’ll make you happy.”

“Yes, I want you. I’ll make you happy too, at least try my best. It’s not fair, you’re so young. Can I caress your hair anytime I want? Will you save me? You have no idea how demented I am!”

“The Estrella and the estrellitas told me all about you. Yes, I can save you. I promise.”

I explained to her I had to check with the estrellitas. I would move to their apartment in a day or two and they had to approve her presence with me in the house. This might take a couple of days since I hadn’t seen them yet. And I owed them so much. Marikarina said she could stay with her friend for awhile. She gave me her address and I called a taxi immediately. I could already feel her mini nipples under my tongue, her penis sliding into my throat. I was bewitched, out-of-control.

We had to go out for lubricants when I arrived. Marikarina kissed me all over my body, my nipples and spent extra time time sucking my broken penis. She throated me so expertly I suspected she had done it often. She was the perfect woman with a penis.

Returned from Marikarina’s place, reclining back in the taxi seat, I re-lived what I had just experienced. This second time was much better than the first. I leaned my head back, formed my mouth into an ‘O’ and began sucking as her imagined penis slid smoothly into my throat. The taxi driver watched me in the mirror, pulled off the road and politely pleaded for a blow-job. I was still buzzing with the pleasure of Marikarina, and felt generous. He slid into the backseat and I popped his penis out, imagining it was Marikarina’s. He wanted more and his hand snaked into my pants. His penis pulsed but I slowed down to give him a chance to grasp my penis, then quickly sticky-licked around his penis head to a thrusting explosion. It pleased me to please him and I was happy with his shot of testosterone. The taxi ride was free.

The estrellitas already seemed to know about Marikarina. Maybe she’s part of the conspiracy to shift me from the Estrella to them. And they’ve already tried out her penis. Maybe Marikarina loves women, maybe she thinks I’m a woman with a man’s facade. She pounded estrellita-blondie at the party like a horny teenage boy. I’ll be a woman for her if that’s what she wants, or a man with a vulva if that’s what she wants. I´ll learn how to kiss like a woman, maybe get a vulva and vagina. I won’t blow my chance with this María, it’s my last chance in life, until I get María back.

I told the estrellitas about Marikarina’s penis in my throat, her penis in my anus, two sheaths for her penis. I described our kisses, my mouth on her nipples, sucking her penis, teasing out her tiny testicles. I asked them what else could I do to please her? Yes, yes, another sheath for her penis, a vagina. I needed a vulva and a vagina. I’d ask the Estrella if it could be done. It’d just be a fleshy appendage, of course, the real vulva is in the mind. I’d be a man with a vulva, perfectly paired to a woman with a penis. I got excited.

I was also excited about something else. I had a special surprise for PerfectPenis the next morning.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

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Chapter 27, Part 1 – Little Stars

This is chapter 27, part 1 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 27, Part 1 – Little Stars

Life with the Estrella continued to improve. She was now in her last semester of residency, supervising other students, with shorter hours and was happy all the time. Her goal was within sight, her personal life was in order, except for the lack of her own perfect penis. Her casual ‘penes’ and my mouth kept her sexual impulses well satisfied.

I noticed a change in her behavior – she seemed more serious about men than she had ever been, and she brought ‘sexual points’ to the house, most of them for me! I always remained partially clothed as I enjoyed these young women, and they certainly received a partial sexual education from my perfect mouth. I never tried to kiss the ‘points’, unless, of course they initiated the kiss, which happened occasionally in the heat of their orgasms. I thought they would find it repugnant to kiss an old man, just as I found it repugnant to kiss the Prof.

I made sure that not one vulva left my mouth un-satiated, and two of them began to reappear frequently and stay longer beyond the cleaning and kissing of their vulvae. They were magnificent sluts, attractive, intelligent, personable, and I called them the ‘estrellitas’ (little stars). They both asked to see my broken penis and empty scrotum. I had a clean, flat abdomen, which I kept completely free of pubic hair.

The estrellitas asked about my life with the Estrella, my marriage with María, they looked at my testicles in the jar; they talked about their lives, their studies, their men, everything. I began to get attached to them, to sense their Female, their Isis, beneath the doctor persona.

Then I understood what was happening–the Estrella was preparing to launch her normal life as a doctor, with a normal family, and she was prepping her replacement for me. These women were looking for the help, stability, financial support, and no-commitment orgasms that I had provided for the Estrella. It was inevitable that I would lose the Estrella someday, but now was too soon. My heart began breaking while she was still with me, and I began to dwell on María again.

But eventually, acceptance found me, and I began to think about, to chose between these new women, comparing their personalities, facial and body features, sexiness. I thought how lucky I was to be an old, ugly castrated man and still have the option of these young beautiful women. I realized my broken penis was a primary point in my favor–there’s a big difference between accepting the penis or accepting the mouth of an old man in the vulva and vagina. If I could get an erection, I’d have to pay dearly for the company of women like these, I couldn’t afford it.

My next café meeting with María was a shocker – she wore heavy makeup, attempting to conceal a bruise on her cheek. PP hit her after he demanded again that she stop fucking the Black Guy, and she had reminded him that he was flaccid the night before. She had moved to the little attached house and she refused to see PP. I joked, in poor taste, that the last time that a man hit her, she went out of circulation for over three decades. María looked at me strangely, curiously, and asked, “You didn’t know it was the same man?” I laughed and thought about my impulse to find and punch him back then – how might that have changed our future?

I pleaded with her to return to me–she could divorce PP and return with me to Guanajuato. We would start by going to Antigua, to the Tanque de la Unión where we’d swear our marriage vows anew and annul her indigenous marriage to PP. We would return to GTO and marry there in the church. If not there, we’ll go to the US and marry. It’d be like it always had been before–she’d have lovers and she’d have my mouth to please her.

She said I didn’t understand, it was too late. All I had to do was stay with her in Guanajuato the last time and work it out. I had given her away again. She would never let that happen again, never.

She shocked me further by telling me she had never legally married PP that she had never divorced me! She never signed the divorce decree–we were still married! Now she had something very important to tell me. My entire being leaped into pure joy–we were still married, she wanted me back! I held my breath, waiting for her to say those magic words that would return my wife to me. And then she spoke, “My black lover stays with me nearly every night and I love him deeply. I’m going to move in with him in Ciudad Vieja.”

I laughed out loud and María thought I was laughing at her. For a moment, I wished I still had my testicles, so I could cut them off right there in front of her. Of course, she could never have a man without a great penis, what was I thinking? María’s desire seemed to follow the largest hormone donor of the moment.

I told her congratulations, that I would do anything possible to help her, to please her. I told her I had greatly developed my abilities to please the vulva with my lips and tongue–if she ever wanted to supplement the Black Guy’s penis with a perfect mouth, she could call me immediately to her vulva. I knew this black man wouldn’t last more than a few years with María, he was much younger and there were 2-3 generations of beautiful Guatemalan girls coming up behind María. Eventually, even her elegant, mature beauty would turn with age. Maybe I could be the perfect mouth to complement another man’s penis for María sometime before we died.

When I got back to the apartment, I called some friends in Antigua and did some research on PP. I decided to give him a special gift for hitting María. He opened up the possibility that I’d get her back again.

But María’s new man, Black Guy, crushed my hopes. I knew then I’d never get her back. I believed, and accepted my destiny. I felt nothing, no pain, no joy, no dark volcano, nothing. The black void had won, swallowed me entirely. Blissfully numb, too numb even to take my life, the effort was too great, and the Estrella propped me up unknowingly. Had she known, she would have been kind, she would have taken my life as she promised, she loved me.

A week later, the two new estrellitas showed up together at our apartment. The Estrella and the estrellitas sat down together with me for a serious discussion. The estrellitas had decided to become roommates. They had rented a three bedroom apartment, and they invited me to join them. I told the Estrella that I loved her deeply, so deeply that I would let her go to her new life without a fuss, as long as she’d let me pay the expenses of her last months of residency.

It wasn’t going to be too hard for me really. The lecher, the dirty old man in me was already scheming about the two new, fresh vulvae. The shocker was that all three women wanted me to move within a week, and they gave me the keys. They had already planned a moving-on party for me for the next night. In my honor, all of the invited guests would be women, some would be women that the Estrella had brought over the months to ‘point’ with me. And they had a very special surprise for me.

And I needed to move-up PP’s surprise gift before I moved.

End of book content.


I welcome all constructive criticism and commentary of any aspect of the story, from grammar and spelling errors to coherency problems within the narrative. If you’d like to comment on the story, use the (moderated) comments form. For all other communication with the author, send a message via the contact link at the top of the page. Please don’t spam or troll, your comments will never become visible.

If you’d like an email notice of the posting of each section of the book, please sign-up on the upper right side of this page. I promise you will never be spammed nor will I ever pass your contact information to anyone else.

If you enjoyed reading this piece of the Pleasing María novel, please share it with your friends.

All the contents of this web site are Copyright © 2015, 2016, 2017 by Guy Ordinary, all rights reserved. The contents have been registered as a published work with the U.S. Copyright Office.