Author Archives: María

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.

Chapter 26, Part 4 – María Assaulted

This is chapter 26, 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 26, Part 4 – María Assaulted

In one of these coffees with María and the Estrella, I noticed a man staring at me. After a few minutes he appeared at the table and asked if I was the Guy that had produced the system software for ‘XYZ’ company. He had seen my photos in some of the articles published by the company in engineering journals. He would love to talk with me, so I sort of annoyingly invited him to sit, and he called over his wife.

She looked warily at María and the Estrella and deduced quickly María was my wife. When I presented María as my ex, and the Estrella as my current companion, she relaxed–she didn’t want to compete with María, but the Estrella was within her range. They surely thought I was in a mid-life crisis, and I had grabbed a young woman to get my youth back.

The man was an engineer at my former company. He was on the team of system and software folks that maintained my software I had leased to the company. He was dying to talk shop but the women would have none of that. We were soon engaged in an animated discussion of arts, salsa dancing, political gossip, and crepe recipes, joking and laughing and toasting with Antiguan coffee–the beautiful musical prattle of women in their comfort zone.

But I felt uneasy, something was wrong. I realized this couple thought I was quite normal. Every since my castration, I thought of myself as a cripple, as horribly damaged, my defects obvious to the entire world. My usual companions, the Estrella, María, the med students, the Prof, all knew about my condition and it reflected in our relationship. This couple saw me fully clothed, sitting with two beautiful women in a café, knew I was a successful engineer, thought I was perfectly normal and treated me as a special person, meaningful in their lives. What a rush!

Another aspect of the tyranny of great beauty is it distorts all social relationships. María’s beauty and sensuality grabbed directly at the groins of men. It hurt them to see her, and their spouses could feel their men’s longing for her. The men resented I possessed her, at least nominally, and the women feared they could lose their partner to her in an instant. So even small talk with other folks was strained. I never realized this before, I thought it was normal.

The couple treated me strangely, with deference and respect–with reverence. I couldn’t make out what was going on when it struck me. They owed their upper middle-class life to me, to my software. When we were finally allowed to talk shop, he said he had never seen software designed as I had done. He was part of a team of three full-time engineers that maintained my system and adapted it to new hardware. None of the group had ever figured-out the overall architecture of my system. He said I was a genius. My vocabulary is inadequate to tell you how that made me feel, I was flooded with … something. I was valuable!

They invited us for dinner, María demurred, and we scheduled around the Estrella’s residency schedule. Several days later, the Estrella and I went to their house–it was a party with several couples, about half associated with the engineering company. The technical people hung on to me like leeches, listening to every word. The Estrella loved the gathering–she was respected for finishing her medical studies, and was quite pretty but not too much to be a threat. She was expertly made-up by me and dressed-up sensually. I thought she was beautiful and had trouble keeping my eyes off her. I even felt some jealousy as other men teased and flattered her. If these folks knew of our true relationship, they would be horrified.

* * *

The Estrella and I always went early to our café meetings and, hidden across the street, we’d observe María arrive. María’s appearance stopped my breathe for a moment, my body trembling from a shot of adrenaline. The Estrella tolerated my locura (madness) but changed the administration of my testosterone dose to after these meetings.

This day, we lurked behind a pile of construction debris to watch María approach the café. A small double-seat motorcycle passed close by María and the rear rider grabbed María’s shoulder bag as the driver gunned the cycle. The bag’s strap caught María’s shoulder diagonally and spun her around and over backwards, pulling the rear rider heavily off the motorcycle. The cycle wavered then struck a car head-on and dumped about 25 feet beyond. The rear rider, gasping to recover his wind, rolled to his knees and struck at María while tugging at the bag under María’s body. Women screamed and people ran frantically. Waves of nausea flooded me, I toppled with vertigo and went black.

A sharp blow to my head brought me back. The Estrella bent over me, pulling me to her and an out-of-focus María screamed and flailed at a policeman who dropped his nightstick. The Estrella embraced me and asked if I was OK – I felt nothing but the throbbing of my head. The cop wrestled with María and she kneed him in the groin. I was splattered with blood – so were the Estrella AND MARIA! I focused on a young man a few feet away – his face and head bloodied.

Two more police ran up, one pinning María, and I struggled up and towards her. Something spun me around onto the hood of a car and steel bit into my wrists. I heard someone screaming, “María, María, …”, maybe it was me, and I went black again.

I returned to consciousness laying on a gurney in some primitive clinic. Both my hands were handcuffed to the gurney rails and I heard María and the Estrella arguing with a male voice. I drifted in-and-out then realized my hands were released. The Estrella helped me up and lead me tottering out to the street into a taxi. I must have been sedated, I awoke when the morning sun hit my face. I checked myself for damage – I had been cleaned-up and wore the Estrella’s ridiculously undersized pyjama shorts.

The Estrella came in at lunch time and she told me what had happened. When María was assaulted, I clambered over the pile of construction debris, picking up a large rock, and charged across the street. I grabbed the helmet of María’s assailant and pulled him away from María, pulling off his helmet. I sat on his body and beat him with the rock. Both María and the Estrella struggled to restrain me without effect. I had destroyed the thief’s face before a policeman arrived and clubbed me in the head.

María assaulted the cop, and we were both arrested. The two thieves were also arrested. I remembered nothing.

The Estrella located PerfectPenis–he arrived from Antigua about two hours later carrying our marriage certificate. The witnesses at the scene had enthusiastically lied about the violence of the thieves and PP paid a big bribe. María and I were released without charges.

Both thieves remained in custody. My beating target was in critical condition, mouth, jaw, nose and eyes destroyed, and might not survive. My hands hurt–I saw they were clenched and trembling. I wasn’t finished with the thief–I would kill him. How dare he presume to survive after assaulting María! The Estrella saw my rage building, and she commanded me into her, “Mírame a mi, …” She washed me clean for the moment.

The motorcycle driver had a long rap sheet and was summarily sentenced to ninety days in the federal penitentiary. I called the hospital daily for news about María’s assailant. Yes, he would survive and I was relieved–no further legal repercussions. I relaxed and resolved to put the event behind me. Then I received a call from the scumbag brother of the thief demanding an enormous sum of money or else. He threatened he knew how to find María and I, and his entire family wouldn’t rest until I paid up.

I went to the market at the bus station and bought half-a-dozen stolen cell phones. I contacted the sicario (hitman) I had once contracted to castrate PP–US$500 each for the parents and siblings. The sicario called the next day after checking–seven hits for US$3,500 total. That was much cheaper than the extortion demanded and a definitively final solution to the problem. Perhaps the best investment I ever made–the thief would be left blind, without family, crippled, impoverished, a short life of misery. As an afterthought, I added US$100 for cutting off his penis. I wanted him to have no pleasure in his life ever again. The sicario gave me an approximate date, and I destroyed that cell phone.

I arranged a tour to see orchids in Cobán. I told the Estrella and María I needed to get away to de-stress from the incident and I went on the tour. I watched the papers every day, saw nothing, and had to stay a few extra days, so I took another tour from Cobán to the beautiful thermal pools at Semuc Champey. I finally received a phone call from the sicario–the deed was done. He crowed about the penis amputation–it was simple. The thief was handcuffed to his bed and heavily sedated. The sicario simply walked in, snipped off his penis without a flinch from the thief, ripped off the monitoring sensors, and walked out. He threw the penis into a gutter. I destroyed another cell phone.

The news of the discovery of the bodies was reported in the Prensa Libre by the same reporter that covered the assault on María. He astutely connected the penis amputation with the murder of the thief’s family, and wrote a soppy wail about the lack of social justice in Guatemala. After I returned to Guatemala City, I received a courtesy visit from a detective. He took my story about my trip to Cobán, commented the thief’s family all had criminal records, and I never heard back from him.

I began to mull about the motorcycle driver–he had participated in the attack on María. I arranged with the sicario to amputate his penis inside the penitentiary. Another hundred dollars plus a carton of cigarettes, a vial of meth, and a cell phone for an imprisoned friend of the sicario. Prison violence isn’t reported in Guatemala, so I had to take the word of the sicario the amputation was completed.

I later received a visit from the mother of the motorcycle driver. She was a humble and simple woman, honest and hardworking, trying to raise her children, educate them and keep them out of trouble. She had guessed I might have had something to do with the disappearance of the other boy’s family, and she wanted to assure me her family posed no risk to me or María. I learned from her that her son, the motorcycle driver, had been gang-raped and killed with a shiv to the liver. His genitals were stuffed in his mouth.

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 26 – Part 3, Mutual Treason

This is chapter 26, 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 26 – Part 3, Mutual Treason

The Estrella watched the videos of the San Francisco politician, the Pol, with me in her apartment and she was fascinated by María’s affair with the Pol. I explained everything as truthfully as I could, but the big hole in my story was the break-up of María and the Pol.

In our next café meeting with María, the Estrella asked what had happened on that last night. María replied,

“When I arrived at his condo, there was a lobbyist there from a big public employees’ union. He said I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he was going to fuck me. It wasn’t a question or a request, but a statement of fact. The Pol had already sold me.

“I didn’t mind at the moment, I was so happy the Pol still wanted me. But the lobbyist wanted a girl-on-girl show first. The Pol called for another girl, and we did coke and I stripped-teased for them while we waited. When the girl arrived … guess who it was? No? No guesses? The senate president’s wife, the 2nd lady! We stripped-teased each other very erotically. She had a great body for her age. We did the normal kissing, nipples, fingering, etc. And then a long 69.

“The lobbyist got so hot he fucked me right on the carpet. He shot faster than you, then we watched the Pol fuck the 2nd Lady. We coked-up some more and the Pol took her all the way into the Ride. She squealed when he ass-fucked her, probably her first time.

“The lobbyist got hard again and ass-fucked me, then went to sleep on the floor before he could fuck the 2nd Lady. The Pol took photos of everyone and told me I was the ‘million dollar baby’. Now I knew what the 2nd Lady meant when she said we were all prostitutes.

“The Pol showed me then what my new future with him would be like. We moved into a bedroom and did our normal ride stuff. I didn’t see the others again, but I heard noises that could have been fucking.”

The Estrella asked, “He sold you for a million dollars, then he dumped you?”

“He was going to dump me anyway after he found I had a child. The lobbyist probably demanded me for the donation, so he used me that last time, lied about marrying me, and disappeared. It almost killed me, but looking back now, I glad I didn’t go with him. He would have sold me again and again. I was willing to be his hooker, but he never would have married me. He would have dumped me for a younger woman after he wore me out.”

Coming clean is always a bad idea, I don’t know what possessed me to do it then. I said,

“I have something to confess to you. I setup the discovery of Brett by the Pol. I disabled the Nanny’s phone antenna so she wouldn’t get your messages or calls.”

“You swore you had nothing to do with that, and I believed you. How could you play with my emotions like that–I loved him and was going to marry him.”

“And I loved you and all’s fair in love and war. You always said you wanted a man who would fight for you. Well, I fought for you and kept you. There are many ways to fight for a woman.”

“Well, at least you fought for me that one time, usually you were willing to give me away…”

I couldn’t think of any rebuttal.

The Estrella turned the conversation to María’s gang rape–she simply didn’t believe my account of the story.

María said, “I’ve never told Guy or anyone this part of the story. At the convenience store before we went to Terri’s house, Larry came to talk to me at the car window and said, ‘I had no idea Guy had such a luscious wife–you look incredibly delicious-I’d sure like to see what’s below that skirt.’

María looked past me as she related the story, “I was in full prick-teasing heat, and I knew we’d drive away and never see him again, so I raised my skirt, opened my legs and I kept them open until I saw you come out of the store. I asked Larry if he saw anything he liked, and he said he could see everything and he liked everything he saw.

“I looked down and I saw I was wet, and my lace panty was almost transparent, I was practically nude. Even so, I didn’t close my legs until you came out. I was shocked when you invited Larry to come along and I felt guilty about provoking him so blatantly, so I never mentioned it to you. Actually, I was really mad at you because you had invited him to Terri’s after I had totally flashed him.

“At Terri’s party, I thought the young guy hitting on me was cute and I wanted him to fuck me, but he didn’t try hard enough. I let him get very close to my pussy, and all he had to do was push through. I had already let him uncover my boobs without fuss hoping he’d get excited. I only pushed his hand away when you were watching, when not, I opened my legs but he never moved-in. I would have taken him to a bedroom on the pretext of going out to the BBQ and fucked him silly. But the guy kept going for drinks every time I opened her legs–I wasn’t drinking mine, so he drank them instead. I was being risky with the guy because I thought Larry was telling you everything I did with him.

“Larry saw everything–I made sure he got good views of my pussy. I was mad at you for leaving me alone on the couch with the young guy while he stripped me nude, and you were just talking boring shop stuff with Larry.

“I waited for the guy to finger me for a while. I was going to take him to a back bedroom and fuck him. I guess I should add, without a condom.”

I said, “But you were in your fertile days.”


“You wanted him to make you pregnant? A complete stranger? What about me, your husband?”

“Hardly a stranger. He had his hands all over and in me that day. And he looked like he had good genes.”

I was shocked into silence.

María continued, “I knew I had been gang-fucked; a sharp pain brought me to half consciousness for a few moments and I saw you standing to my side while I felt another penis stroking me.

“I knew I was impregnated that day and always wondered who the father of our son might be. I thought maybe the young guy was part of the gang-fuck, and hoped he was the father, but I was afraid to find out for sure. I also thought Larry had been part of the gang but I didn’t know my cervix had been penetrated.

“Months after the party, I asked Terri about that evening and Terri broke down, cried, and told me all the details. Her boyfriend, Drew, was too different from our son, and the young guy hadn’t fucked me so I knew either Larry or you were the father. I felt guilty about provoking Larry so intensely and felt I had implicitly given him permission to fuck me. At the convenience store, as you came out to the car, I told Larry, ‘Well, maybe someday I’ll let you take me out for a ride.’ I wasn’t upset about the gang-fuck itself, I always thought I would eventually fuck all the men in the gang anyway.”

María didn’t say if she preferred Larry or me for the father, and I was certainly afraid to ask.

María continued, “Terri also told me how exposed I had been that day. Terri cried when she told me my pussy was mostly exposed, and everyone at the party, men and women, had seen everything. The exposure itself didn’t bother me–what upset me was it was in front of all those cold, frigid, sterile, repressed, moralizing, hypocritical, pale-skinned ‘gringa‘ women.”

I said, “Well, you did get pregnant that day, or the next morning when I fucked you awake.”

María said, “Well, when Terri told me about the rape, I hoped it had been the young guy. I wanted the young guy to fuck me right there on the couch in front of you. I pretended to be drunk and passed-out to make it easier for him. When I saw the stupid clod was going to pass out, I decided to go for Larry. I shifted my legs so Larry could see better, then I helped the guy get his hand in my panty. He wiggled his hand in and stretched my panty, that’s when he tore it. Larry saw everything.”

“You were conscious the whole time?”

“Yes, woozy but conscious. When you left to take the guy out, I pretended to come-to for a moment, and I slurred to Larry, ‘You’re going to ride me now, aren’t you?’ Then I ‘passed-out’ again. I thought Larry would just fuck me there laying on the couch. I wanted him to be between my legs when you returned. But he moved me around to the back. I never thought it’d be a gang-fuck. I was surprised when Drew and you joined in to fuck me, but I didn’t mind, I wanted to get pregnant. I could hardly jump up and say, ‘Surprise, I know what you’re doing.’ after Larry finished. You know the rest of the story.”

“I thought all these years we raped you. So did Terri and Drew. The rape really disturbed Terri, screwed-up her life for months. It twisted me up with guilt. I got a vasectomy…”

“You should have felt guilty, you did rape me, and you let those others rape me. What kind of husband is that! You should have felt guilty. I despised you for not telling me the truth. The gang-fuck changed our relationship forever.”

“You should have told me how much you wanted to get pregnant, by me. Or why didn’t you just lie to me, tell me you weren’t fertile and accidentally get pregnant by me?”

“You would have wanted an abortion. With the gang-fuck, I got my pregnancy and you couldn’t stop it.”

“I was changing by then, thinking about children. You could have convinced me to have a baby then.”

“Maybe so. When Brett was born, even before, when I was pregnant, I saw you change. You wanted me more. And when Brett was born, you wanted both of us badly and treated me better than I thought possible for any man. But I still hadn’t forgiven you completely, so when the Pol came along, I jumped at him for the promise of the Ride. He was so dangerous for me.”

“So aren’t you curious about who won the sperm lottery?”


“It was me.”

“Well, it all worked out perfectly, didn’t it!”

* * *

That night, on the fourth Level of Hades, by the stiffening of her abdominal muscles, I knew the Estrella would go all the way to Level Seven. Until among Josey’s whisperings, “… the rape was a setup…”, I bolted upright while the Estrella cried, “No te pares, no te pares…” (Don’t stop,…) I dived back into her vulva, but we never got beyond Level Four. Later I explained PP said the gang-rape was a setup, but I knew that couldn’t be true.

At our next meeting, I asked María. After a silent moment, she said, “The young guy had already passed-out. I forced his hand into my panty and pushed his finger into my vagina. That’s when I tore my panty. I made an obvious show of it.”


“I wanted Larry to see, I knew I could get him to fuck me. I wanted him to know I was faking so he’d know he could fuck me. When you went to get a camera, I asked him if he was going to ride me. He said we needed to get rid of you for a few minutes. When you left to take the young guy out to the car, Larry said he wanted me from the back, he had something special for me.

“He was so excited, I figured he wouldn’t last long, so I blew him first. I was right, he squirted within a few seconds. I pumped him up again for a longer fuck, I wanted him inside me when you returned. By the way, that’s when I saw his unusual penis, long and narrow. When I saw the same penis on Brett, I knew who actually won the sperm lottery.

Anyway, I walked around to the back of the couch and got in the position you saw me. You should have known, there’s no way he could’ve handled the dead weight of an unconscious person into that position. He fucked me thoroughly–I was sure I’d be pregnant after that. I had no idea the group-fuck would happen, but I was OK with that too. With three men, one of them was sure to hit the jackpot. You could have lined-up more men and I’d have taken them too.”

“You didn’t care who impregnated you, your own husband wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Afterward, I was glad you thought you won the sperm lottery. You really changed, you became a man to me. The years of my pregnancy and baby Brett were the best years of our lives. Until we fought about your vasectomy. You always managed to screw-up our best times.”

Now, I was silent. We looked deep into each other, me pleading for forgiveness and her rejecting it. I excused myself, went to the bathroom and vomited. When I returned, María had left.

* * *

At our next meeting, we intuitively decided to move on, to softer adventures in our history. María mentioned Brett’s wife, Rosa, “I suspected from the beginning the young woman in the bus station was Rosa. By her dress and attitude, I knew Rosa was a slut even before the other kid successfully hit on her.”

“Why did you encourage my relation with Rosa?”

“I wanted to protect our son from her, and make sure you knew how slutty she was. We would taint Rosa and force her away from our son. I thought you were bored and I could use your boredom as a trap for Rosa. I thought a cheating experience might help you realize the power in your penis–you just needed attitude to man-up. And after your various experiences with Drew, I was thinking Rosa might further addict you to the vulva and stay clear of penises.”

“You were just manipulating me…”

The Estrella laughed, “Men are so easy to manipulate, they always lead with their penis.”

María admitted, “Sure, I was using you, but I certainly didn’t hear any complaints then, you were fucking Rosa like a rabbit.”

“Yeah, I guess, but your plan failed. Rosa was also using me and her vulva was stronger than your scheming.”

“I also failed to keep you away from men. I hated what you did with the men at PerfectPenis’ parties. I threatened PP to make your sex with these men your choice, then finally, I stopped the parties. Even though you were crippled, I knew how you loved women, and I couldn’t understand how you could enjoy sex with men. I rationalized you did it under PP’s influence, and you didn’t really like it…”

I interjected, “Of course I was in PP’s control, every since our confrontation in San Pedro at lake Atitlán. At first, I did detest it but I deliberately immersed myself in sex with those men for the camera to please you, to free you from me. You clearly wanted PP more than me. Afterward, I came to enjoy it as that was all I had left.”

María still didn’t know PP had pimped me, and I didn’t tell her.

María replied, “I wish I had known sooner about San Pedro, I would have done things differently. Even before then, I tried to get you to fight for me. When we went to Antigua that time and you discovered my very used lingerie collection, I wanted you to take control. I argued for continuing with PP but I really wanted you to assert our rules about long-term lovers and forbid me to see him in spite of my arguments. You wimped-out.”

“I just wanted to please you…”

“I was afraid PP might overwhelm me so much I would decide to leave you, and I didn’t want that. But you wimped-out.”

“You let PP make videos of sex with him and PP used the videos to break me down. Then he trapped me with his damned penis and tried to crush my genitals at the lake.”

“And you helped him.”

“It was too late, he owned me and you too.”

María continued, “The other time I tried to turn you around was when we fucked close up right in your face. That was my idea–I wanted you to understand exactly what you were losing. I wanted you to see how PP was winning me away from you. I hoped the close-up fuck would inspire you to grow a penis, man-up, and reclaim me.”

“I always thought it was PP’s doing to humiliate and break me … you didn’t know the whole story between PP and me, so your scheme back-fired–it caused me to surrender you to PP as his perfect match. It also made me crave castration by PP more.”

“I had no idea PP intended to castrate you then and even less idea you wanted it also. I wanted and needed a husband, you, with a fully functional penis, and was shocked later when I realized PP had already mangled your genitals right in front of me.”

We stared at each other, this time her eyes pleaded for forgiveness, and I granted it. She left our meeting crying, and the Estrella looked at me like I was truly insane.

* * *

At our next meeting, the Estrella asked María about her lovers in Guanajuato, Mark and Jenny.

María replied, “Physically and attitudinally, Mark was no better than Guy. He had the advantage of youth in his prick size and energy levels. But he was another weak man and I wondered if the American culture had feminized all its men. But Mark’s semen was special, it gave me an intense hormone high with every shot.”

I commented, “You probably don’t know how Mark connected with you…”

“I knew you sent Mark to seduce me, Mark told me in a moment of heat when he was trying to persuade me to leave you. I thought you did that in revenge for PP, and I was proud you had finally taken a stand.

“And, the truth is I enjoyed him immensely. I deliberately held back from hooking him because of the age difference but I managed him for easy access to his prick, yet not so deeply to cause him to leave his fiancée. And he introduced me to Jenny.”

The Estrella asked, “Guy told me about Jenny, and she really surprised me, I had never imagined you so hooked on a woman. What was that all about?”

“I thought my vulva, actually all vulvae, were ordinary and unattractive even though Guy told me hundreds of times it was beautiful–husbands are expected to say these things. Many of my male lovers had refused to kiss my vulva, like it was dirty and undesirable.”

I cursed, “Puta madre, what fools they were…”

María continued, “Jenny told me I had the most beautiful vulva she had ever seen, and she’d seen dozens. As I kissed Jenny’s vulva, I desperately wished I had a penis, and then I realized my own power, the power of the vulva. Jenny pulled me emotionally through her vulva into her soul. Jenny’s strong desire for me astonished me–it was super sexy knowing I was wanted and loved, and I reciprocated, desiring and loving Jenny, if just for that intimate moment.”

The Estrella asked, “Have you had other women since then?”

“I have an occasional woman lover, not really a relationship, just the raw sex that satisfies my odd desires for immersion into a vulva. My lesbian experiences caused me to realize not every sexual activity between two women or two men break the natural affinity between man and woman, and my distaste of homosexuals is pretty much gone. The only act that still bothers me some is emotional bonding through male anal sex. But I guess I don’t care much about that anymore. Except it hurt me to see Guy change over so eagerly, like he was rejecting women, even me. Now I know why, and I feel guilty about that, about a lot of things.”

I lamented, “Yeah, we screwed-up a great relationship… can we get that back?”

“No, it can never happen again.”

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 26 – Part 2, Testosteronic Zombies

This is chapter 26, 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 26 – Part 2, Testosteronic Zombies

Our biweekly meetings became every week. They were therapeutic for me and I sensed both María and the Estrella found them soothing and relaxing. Seeing María was still painful for me, but I never made a scene or begged her, I was permanently damaged and I wanted María to be happy.

Rosa and my son had their first baby. From the photos, my granddaughter was as beautiful as a baby can be. I couldn’t tell if she resembled my son or Rosa most, so I thought our son might indeed be the father. María and I were stuck in Guatemala, so it would be awhile before we could visit them in Monterrey, Mexico. Rosa and Brett sent us photos of the baby almost daily. I was immediately fond of her, really quite in love with her. I resolved to help them care for her and protect her from the predator penises, like I had been, later in her life. One photo showed the baby’s tiny perfect vulva with the same proportions as María’s, and I was again taken by the beauty of the life creation force of Female.

* * *

María talked about the way men had abused me when they fucked her in our apartment after the dances, about how she had intuitively recognized the power and violence inherent within the penis. She said, “It’s natural for one man to dominate the other. The competition among the men produced more hormones and energy and made the prize, me, more valuable. Their testosterone increased my sexual drive as well as the desperation of the man to drive his penis into me.”

María confessed, “The violence of my lovers’ abuse of your genitals excited me to crazy orgasms. I couldn’t stand it. I told them to destroy your ‘huevos‘ (eggs/balls) and I’d stay with them forever.”

“I always suspected you were goading them…”

“But then I’d look at you sitting at the foot of the bed with the biggest hard-on, like it doubled in size, ready to explode from watching those guys fuck me, and I stopped them just in time because I’d be the target of your hard-on next. And of course, because you were my husband.”

“You didn’t stop DeepThroat, you helped him! You struck my testicles yourself.”

“That doesn’t count. I was in love with him and he promised me a family.”

I flashed back to Zihuatenejo, stiffened as I relived Flacucho’s long fingers crushing my testicles, my back and neck arched backwards in helpless agony, “Or Flacucho in Zihua…”

“You can’t blame that one on me, that was years later and you were stupid enough to play his game.”

The Estrella interjected, “What! What’s this in Zihua?”

I said, “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”

María replied, “What’s so long about it? It was a castration contest among testosteronic zombies–the winner got to fuck me. Eleven men lost their balls for a chance to fuck me, if you can imagine that! Another five or six lost for the other girls there.”

I said, “Well, they deserved it, there’s no end to the stupidity of testosterone. But you manipulated me into playing…”

“That was one time I really wanted you to lose, I enjoyed watching Flacucho crush your balls, my orgasm almost blew me apart!”

The Estrella stared at María, her mouth dropped, not believing what she’d heard. I stuttered, “But I was your husband…”

“I don’t expect you to understand what it means to a woman to have a man want you so badly he’ll even castrate your husband to get you.” María looked at the Estrella, “I’m sure Estrella knows the feeling.”

Silence. Minutes of silence.

The Estrella broke the ice. I had previously told the Estrella about the Castration Game and now she wanted María’s perspective, “What about the Castration Game? What Guy described was insane!”

I jumped-in, “That period was the hottest sex we ever experienced.”

Maria replied, “Those men jilted me after what I thought were fantastic sexual sessions. I thought my fucking techniques and desirability were slipping, so I worked hard to improve, to make each fuck earthshaking for the man. I practiced on Guy…”

“And how! It was earthshaking…”

María said, “You liked that? You were just the quick practice, a perfect dummy because you were an early shooter. I figured if I could control your ejaculations, I could control any man–my lovers got the real thing. But then they always disappeared…”

“Of course, I watched how serious you got with them, then I threatened them. I told them I’d expose the affairs to their wives and relatives.”

Maria glared at me and we squirmed in silence, “I didn’t think you had it in you to do something like that. How dare you mess with my relationships like that!”

I said, “But you were trying to replace me. All’s fair in love and war.”

The Estrella giggled and burst out laughing. I loved that girl. Maria softened then laughed, then started crying, leaning against me, “How could we have been so insane?”

How indeed! I said, “It was exciting, wasn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t understand how PP makes me crazy, but in truth, he’s boring. We’re boring compared to what I lived with you.” Her voice trailed off, she muttered in English, “I miss that, I miss you.”

This was the first sign of regret I ever heard from her. The first chink in her armor. My body practically cramped with hope–I would get her back, I knew it.

I wanted to steer María away from PP, point out his flaws, so I joked, “I guess the Pol was the only man that could actually do you an all-nighter.”

María corrected, “No, José did me all night the night he saved me at the club, and he didn’t need drugs. And if women count, the strip-tease artist at the Antigua club did me all night. The Photog almost counts too–he intermixed sex, photo shoots, and naps over 12-16 hours. And tattoo Pablo did a credible job, lasting until 5AM.”

I decided to drop that theme.

I lay awake all that night, remembering and reliving those trysts with María. Every touch, every look, her hair, her words, especially her words, how she cajoled and flattered me. With a shock I realized her words had all been ego-stroking–my ego. Can all men be so shallow, or is it just me?

I resolved to bring up our wild adventures in future meetings, simply reminding her of the excitement of our lives together. It was a dagger I could stick into her, not into her genitals but into her heart.

* * *

In our next meeting, the Estrella said, “The club owner said José had told him you worked his strip club in Guate City.”

They looked at each other warily, this must have been something María never wanted to reveal, and she didn’t know what the Estrella knew.

María said, “I lived with José in Antigua while José worked in Guatemala City in a different club. He sometimes took me there. I stripped, pole danced and lap danced.”

She continued to look at the Estrella who met her gaze, “The Antigua club was more interesting then, after I stripped at the pole, I fucked some of the men for money, sometimes on their laps, sometimes in my apartment. José was my pimp. He said he didn’t want me to do it, but he was no better at controlling me than you, so he pimped me to ‘protect’ me, he said. I was already treated like the town whore so I thought, why not act like it. My lap dances were very popular.”

I couldn’t breathe, I managed to squeak out, “José was supposed to protect you. You didn’t need to do that, I would have sent you all the money you needed, you knew that. Why?”

“It wasn’t for money, it was to punish them. I was the town whore, and I didn’t want to disappoint them. The men were the upright citizens of Antigua, the moral hypocrites. I did it to bring them down to my level. I was a stripper whore, just one step above a street whore. Even my brother came to watch me, hiding in the back. You should have seen his face when I danced. I sent José to bring him for a freebie lap dance.”

“You nude lap danced your brother?”

“More than that. I jerked him off right there in front of god and the town mayor. He was spurting almost before I got his prick out of his pants. He’s not my brother, he’s nothing to me, just another hypocritical john. I might have fucked him but he didn’t last long enough. It would have been worth it just to expose his hypocrisy.”

“The Estrella mumbled, “No wonder he hates you.”

I looked at María, this woman that had been my wife, the woman that I still loved, and wondered who she was. After a few moments of silence, I said, “I trusted José to take care of you.”

“Oh, he did. He fucked me every night, he was a great fuck.”

“You were my wife, you were supposed to be arranging our marriage here.”

She ignored that comment, “José disappeared when I gave him VD, and I never saw him again. I’d probably still be whoring in that club if he’d had stayed. Every man I’ve ever had has whored me out, including you, my Ex.”

María looked at the Estrella, “Is that what you wanted me to say?”

“No, I’m sorry I mentioned it. I didn’t know anything about that.”

There were a few more moments of silence, then the Estrella said, “Speaking of José, he did come back for you. The club owner said he was assaulted in Antigua. He was robbed and his genitals mutilated. He was in the hospital in Antigua, and someone from his family in Argentina came and got him.”

María turned pale, she asked, “Mutilated?”

“Yeah, his balls were crushed and had to be removed. His penis had been twisted and the top half was amputated.”

María turned green. She said, “I don’t feel well. Please excuse me now.”

After she left, I asked the Estrella, “Why didn’t you tell me this? You shouldn’t have told María, she’ll think it’s her fault. I hope she’s OK. Did they catch the guy that attacked José?”

“The club owner didn’t know. Don’t you wonder that his injuries sound like yours?”

“You mean PP assaulted him? Not likely, José was a big guy and a street brawler. PP could have never taken him. And he was robbed. Poor guy. But it worked out for me, I got María back to Mexico.”

“Yeah, but there was another man for a coupla’ months.”

“Well, she said he was a stripper, just an occasional fuck. I wonder if she kept working at the strip club. I’m not going to ask, please don’t ask her either. Let’s let that sleeping dog lie.”

“Guy, we need to talk. María is a whore, a gutter whore. Why do you want her so much?”

It’s my fault. It has to be my fault, I just don’t know why. Please help me get her back.”

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 26 – Part 1, Never Tell Your Woman…

This is chapter 26, 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 26 – Part 1, Never Tell Your Woman…

A few weeks after I visited PP, I received a phone call from María. She said PerfectPenis had told her about my visit, about my testicle sculpture and PP had given her permission to talk to me again–we still had a son and financial assets in common. She said I shouldn’t interpret her contact incorrectly, she didn’t love me now. I told her I loved her intensely, and I told her about the Estrella. We talked for two hours about PP, our son, the Estrella, and the changes I had made to our finances. At the end, I told her how sorry I was I had neglected to see all of her. It was too late, of course, but I wanted to say it once. Her voice cracked as she said goodbye, and I regretted apologizing, I never wanted to upset her or make her sad.

We began to exchange emails 2-3 times per week, to talk by phone every week, and within a month, we began to meet for coffee every two weeks in public places. Although I still loved her, our talk was only the talk of good friends. I would go early to the appointments to watch her approach the door of the café from a hidden spot across the street. The elegance, beauty, and sensuality of the older, mature María still stopped my breathing, and I need a few minutes to calm myself before sitting with her.

María surprised me by confessing she had a lover, a black man a few years her junior. She met him 2-3 times per week in the little apartment attached to PP’s house where I stayed before moving to live with the Estrella. She said she was very attached to him, his technique of making love to her reminded her of the first black man of decades ago–the man that had fucked her in the salsa club dressing room.

She surprised me again by revealing PerfectPenis was not perfect anymore, he would occasionally be unable to get an erection, the eventual demise of all aging men. She said his problems had begun on his last birthday. I remembered how he had examined my testicle sculpture in his office and smiled to myself. I asked her if PP knew of her affair. She said yes, of course, the housemaid told him, and they argued about it constantly, but he couldn’t stop her. María had indeed broken PP as she had broken me.

María was intensely curious about the Estrella, wanted to meet her, so I asked if I could bring her to our meetings. In their first meeting, Maria and the Estrella got along OK, but some hidden tension weighed between them. Of the two, Maria was the more transparent and I noted flickers of desire sometimes as María talked with the Estrella. The Estrella put on the inscrutable doctor persona when needed and she was much harder to read.

The Estrella knew many of my secrets with Maria; perhaps she blamed Maria for my condition. Nothing could be further from the truth. Of course, what they both initially knew of each other came through my distorted lens.

In subsequent meetings, they relaxed more and settled into a normal catty relationships between women – the Estrella envied Maria’s beauty and grace; Maria envied the Estrella’s native intelligence and perhaps her unconditional loyalty to me. The Estrella fiercely defended me against any slight, real or perceived, and she went ballistic if María praised PP or mentioned ‘hot sex.’

I also sensed a latent sexual attraction between them – eye bats, soft touches, mirroring of gestures. When Maria left our table, the Estrella’s face wore the hang face of an abandoned puppy while her eyes strip-teased Maria’s clothes away.

The Estrella became our facilitator, mediator, counselor and psychologist, and referee. She rarely said much, overcome by the intensity of our relationship and experiences. With the Estrella as our buffer, we began to meet every week.

And this is how I learned María’s perspective on many of the events of our life was vastly different than mine. We began to wander over these events as the Estrella listened with incredibility. I asked María if I could ask her anything, and she agreed. And so I did.

* * *

I had always been curious about María’s women clients and lovers in San Francisco during those months as a prostitute–in particular, the Hispanic woman, María (nick-named María-lover). I asked, “What was so special about María-lover?”

“María-lover was more a soul mate than a lover. We were the same race, language, and culture with the same frustrations in life. We spent as much time together talking and joking and cuddling, as in sex.

“She was married to an American, a real nice, ordinary guy, barely adequate for her sexual drives. Her husband knew he had married above his grade and was jealous, often provoking fights with her over imagined affairs at her work. Otherwise, he was a good man and gave her the life she wanted. They were stable financially and he promised her children whenever she wanted; he was ready.”

“Sound almost perfect, if a little dull….”

“Well, he also had a kinky edge. He fantasized about his wife fucking other men, and told her she was a free woman, free to have lovers as long as she told him and followed his control.”

It was just man fantasy, of course, but I laughed when I heard that. “No man should ever tell his woman that–he’s likely to get what he fantasizes about!”

“She was fascinated and tantalized by my lifestyle and sexual freedom. She wanted to talk about it all the time. She’d never considered cheating her husband with another man, in spite of her sexual ‘freedom’, and she felt her sexual relationship with me wasn’t cheating.”

“Yeah, from how you talked about here, I thought you two loved each other, not in the ‘in love’ sense, as closest friends maybe.

“Well, the stories of my adventures corrupted her loyalties. A few weeks before we left San Francisco, I met her husband. He recognized me as the politician´s slut he had seen on TV, knew I was married to a white American, thought I had to be an easy slut, and he aggressively hit on me when he thought his wife wasn’t watching. She was.

“The next day, she asked me to help her have an affair, and I set her up with Satyr, that’s the black man from my apartments, Estrella, in case Guy never told you the story. Satyr was our Nanny’s lover. They used our house for their trysts. María-lover succumbed quickly to his sexual prowess. Once María-lover got a taste, she had other men, often with my help, and her marriage broke up, just as we left San Francisco. Her husband never knew what hit him – when she fulfilled his fantasy, he was crushed.”

“Yeah, I felt sorry for him, I doubted he’d ever find another woman like her.”

We talked about some of María’s other female lovers.

María said, “All my women clients had been married. I thought I was ‘in love’ with some of them, but the sex toys we used for fucking never satisfied me like a real penis. However, in the right circumstances with the right woman, I might go mainly for a woman, with an occasional penis on the side.”

The Estrella said, “It’s hard for me to think of you without a great penis, although I had a serious relationship with a woman before I met Guy.”

María conceded, “I’m tempted sometimes but I try to avoid starting anything with a woman – women are too dangerous for me, and I promised Guy years ago I’d stay away from women. You won’t believe PP recently told me I was free to have women as long as he could watch. Maybe he thinks a woman can take me away from my black man. Not a chance, I’d have both of them.”

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 25 – Part 2, Death by Love

This is chapter 25, 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 25 – Part 2, Death by Love

About 2 months after I began living with the Estrella, I told her I was ready for the genital amputation. She tried to convince me otherwise but I was adamant. I had to close that part of my life with PP in order to get free again – if he would have called me to his perfect penis again, I would have gone immediately. The Estrella re-assumed her doctor persona, asserted her dark heavy Male blood, and she scheduled me for surgery at a private clinic attached to a plastic surgeon she trusted. I chose my marriage anniversary date for the amputation. We went shopping for the perfect display bottle, then went to a jeweler to have the plaque engraved.

She asked about my testicles, and we sorted through my small box of miscellaneous possessions. It contained several DVDs of María’s sex-club dance videos, a zip-lock baggie containing María’s lace panty, two small vials containing my testicles in some sort of preserving liquid, and PP’s gift to me, the thin piano-wire garrote with which I was expected to lop off my genitals when he commanded.

There’s no need to be melodramatic about the genital amputation, I was physically castrated months before. It would be one hour of surgery to remove the fake testicles and most of the penis – the Estrella would do this work. Then three hours to reconstruct the skin and penis stub, the work of the plastic surgeon. I would spend about three weeks in rest and recovery, mostly in the Estrella’s second bedroom after I left the clinic.

The Estrella lied. The plastic surgeon replaced the small fake testicles with larger ones, then attempted to rebuild the sacs within the penis that should engorge and produce an erection. I was outraged until I saw the disappointment and hurt in the Estrella’s eyes. She did it with love and I forgave her. I accepted I could bear to live with my genitals until PP commanded me to amputate them with the wire garrote.

Five days after the operation, the Estrella gave me a hand-blown glass sculpture in the shape of my genitals, broken penis, elongated scrotum, glass bangles, distinctly separated glass bulbs as the scrotum containers for my testicles. Inside the bulbs bobbed the remnants of my real testicles in a preservative liquid. It was beautiful, a real work of glass artistry. I was immensely pleased. I put the sculpture on a bookshelf in the bedroom so I could see it at all times. Ten days after the operation, I was up and walking around normally. The Estrella said my straightened penis was cute, and I joined the Estrella in her bed again each night.

The operation was not successful – my penis was thinner, longer and straighter than before, but now, not even the first segment of my penis closest to my body would engorge. I was totally and permanently flaccid.

* * *

I chose PP’s birthday to visit him, carrying my genital sculpture, gift-wrapped in a box. I walked into his office, stared at him – he was uglier than ever and my face must have shown my hate for him. If he would have dropped his pants at that moment, I would have knelt naked in front of his genitals and kissed and sucked his testicles and penis to orgasm, pledging myself once again to him. I still lusted for that perfect penis.

We said and did nothing, then I handed him the gift box. He opened the top of the box, pulled out the sculpture, read the inscription, examined my testicles, and finally spoke. “You didn’t need to do this, María is mine, keep your testicles to remind you that you were once a man, and how I destroyed you.”

He returned the sculpture to the box and handed it back to me. I tossed the wire garrote on his desk, “Let me suck your penis one more time and I’ll use this now.”

“Get outa here, I don’t want your bloody mess on my floor. What will I do with your body, I’d have to throw you in a dumpster. Get out, you are released, you are free. And stay away from me and María.”

He turned his attention back to his work and ignored me. I ceased to exist for him. I left still full of hate but floating now above the hate, and the desire for his penis was gone. By the time I arrived back at the apartment, the hate was gone. María needed his perfect penis, and it was a small sacrifice I made to please her, I was happily deranged.

* * *

I was feeling ratty, laying in bed after the Estrella got up and went to the hospital. We had spent half the night rolling her through the seven levels of Hades, something that can only be done with the tongue and lips – no apologies to the penis. If you’ve never seen a woman incoherently moaning as the orgasmic convulsions roll through her body, the seventh level … well, too bad.

When we woke up this morning, she was crying that my penis reconstruction had failed – she knew how badly I wanted to fuck her. She said the trophy sculpture with my testicles was creepy. I was proud of it, it represented my defeat by a superior man, nothing to be ashamed of, but I decided to store it away. Then I thought of the Prof and impulsively called him. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, since my operation. Maybe he had heard about it from students. He was happy to hear from me, and the pleasure in his voice erased the ratty-ness, replacing it with a black tension in my groin.

“I’d like to come see you tonight, I have a gift for you. Maybe I can interest you in that swingy thing we used to do.”

“Absolutely, 8:00 PM, don’t be late. I have a lover now, he comes in at 11:00.”

I thought I’d give him an adrenalin hit. “Umm, not much time. If you still want to fuck me to death, tonight is the night, your last chance. Bring all your lefty colleagues, students, friends, neighbors – I’m a hard man to kill.”

A long silence, I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. Visualizing the body of his father rotting in a sewer. Surely calculating how many men it would take to burst my anus, to bleed the yanqui pig to death. I knew he was taking it seriously, so I added,

“Don’t forget my mouth, jam a big penis into my throat, I’ll choke and shake for 4-5 minutes, then it’s over.”

“Are you serious? You’ll fight, you’ll bite off the penis.”

The black tension in my groin ratcheted up a few notches. The conversation had become surreal, but he was serious. I was telling him how to kill me, we already had the time and place. Maybe I thought taking a woman into the seventh level of Hades was the apex of my life, nothing else left was worthwhile.

“You can tie me up, have your friends hold me down so everyone can see the convulsions. I swear I won’t bite. Or give me drugs or squeeze my neck arteries. This is real, it’s your fantasy made real. Revenge your father. Now or never.”

“Did you have an operation?”

“Yes.” Someone had already told him. He always liked playing with my broken penis. No more.

“What is my gift?”

“My testicles in a trophy sculpture. You can have your name engraved on the sculpture.”

“Come on over. We’ll do the swingy thing first. I’ll throat you alone, no witnesses. I wanted you to be my lover, you blew me off, I’ll enjoy killing you. What should I do with your body?”

“I won’t care. Make sure I can’t be identified, throw me in a sewer. Wait … no, my body has to be easily found and identified, and it can’t look like a suicide. That’s for the insurance for my family. The sewer part is OK if it makes you feel better.”

“You better be serious. If you come here, I’m going to kill you. Do you want some convulsive drugs? You’ll die squirming, but the convulsions will distract you from the choking. They add little pain but shake your whole body. How much pain do you want?”

“No, no extra pain, I want it to be my own pain, I have some debts to pay. Maybe you should bring some friends, some that hate gringos. The convulsions will excite them, they can ejaculate or urinate on me. I’m going to die, a little extra humiliation will be fun.” The black tension had spread from my groin over all my body. Now, I was dead serious and seriously excited. I wished I had someone I could tell, I was going to die in just a few hours, fucked to death by a perverted old man. There was no one. They would try to stop me, call the police, lock me up in a nut house.

“I’ll think about it. See you at eight, I’ll be ready.”

I spent the day pacing the apartment, visualizing my mouth skewered by his penis, my body flopping and shaking until I became completely still, completely at peace. I arrived at his place almost an hour early, bursting with excitement. The Prof was alone – he wanted no witnesses. He looked great – he had lost some weight and toned up, almost sexy for an old man.

The Prof handled my sculpture like it was fine crystal. He had already mounted a special mantle to display it in his bondage room. I disrobed and he examined my penis. He said it was beautiful and he wished he had done the operation. He sucked me to my last ejaculation.

It’s amazing what you’ll be willing to do in the last moments of your life. We had great sex. We deep kissed. I kissed his nipples, inside his ears and naval and armpits, reveling in the scents and tastes of the man. I licked the crack of his buttocks, then reamed his anus, my first time ever in the last moments of my life. In spite of the pain of his hemorrhoids he ejaculated fiercely. We did the swinging suck and swinging fuck, giddy as teenage boys when they’re about to pop their first cherry. I swung front to back, pushing against the walls with my hands, banging my anus against his torso, savoring the movement of his penis inside my body, and I felt the immense need to have that penis stroking in my throat. I said, “I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, …” repeatedly until he stilled my swinging.

This would be my finest moment. I was already bound, he swung me above the bed and dropped me. I was dead calm and still, but he trembled, his chest jumping as he repressed his sobs. He was a sloppy mess, I didn’t think he’d be able to do it, but I was wrong. He asked if I wanted him to knock me out, and I said no, I wanted to feel the agonies of my body as I died. I owed that much to María, for the pain I had caused her. The Prof said he’d push deep immediately and stay deep until the choking stopped. I’d be unconscious, then he’d stroke until he ejaculated – I’d be dead by then. I agreed but thought he should strap down my legs and trunk against violent movements. That done, I suggested a slippery lubricant. He lubricated his penis, the poured a small quantity into my mouth. I swished and gargled and swallowed.

We were ready. He asked if I had any last words. I said, “I’m sorry about your father, let’s do it.” He injected a small quantity of cloudy liquid into a vein, then pulled my head down over the edge of the bed, and pushed his penis into my mouth. I planned to savor this delicacy for a while – I began sucking and licking the head, the sweetest taste I had remaining in my life.

The Prof had other plans – he pushed in quickly, hit the back of my throat, and I started gagging but too late, he slid into my throat easily. His testicles buried my nose, but it didn’t matter, I couldn’t breathe through my throat. He wiggled and squirmed until he bottomed-out, pushing his penis a few more millimeters into my throat. He sat down fully on my face, embedding my chin in his abdomen – I couldn’t move my head at all. My neck hurt severely like it would break. Most of his body weight was on my neck bent across the edge of the bed. I thought I should give him one last fright – I’d give his penis a nip, but my jaw was trapped. I suddenly became frightened – there was no way to call this off, no safe word, no way to escape. I was dead minus four minutes. I took a mental deep breath and relaxed. I only had 1 or 2 minutes of lucidity left, I might as well enjoy them. Besides, there are far worse ways to die. This was erotic, passionate – this man had wanted me so badly he would kill me with his penis.

My mind drifted out of my body, and I watched myself gagging and choking. My body started shaking and jerking. The extra straps were a godsend, I would have easily thrown him off without them. My penis turned red from the blood seeking to engorge! I couldn’t see my face for his body, but I could still feel my eyes fluttering, my head was vibrating. He sat there, holding my arms down, watching me struggle, then lay down on my body. I was beautiful, proud, and at the moment of my death, I finally knew what love is – it’s what you’re willing to kill for, or to die for. María. My body flushed, burned and glowed with love. María.

I couldn’t see anything anymore, just felt movements, convulsions of my body, and yes, his stroking. I must be at the edge of unconsciousness, and he’s fucking my throat, fucking me to death for the crimes of the CIA. I didn’t care about his father or the CIA, this was my redemption for hurting María. I wished it was her penis killing me …

The Prof was on the floor screaming, my head turned to his side, and I coughed vomit on him, choked and coughed, and repeated. I could barely get a breath, and the convulsions made breathing almost impossible. He crawled to a phone, called for an ambulance, just as his lover came in the door. They disappeared, and I laid there, strapped to the bed, not fucked to death, but drowning in my own vomit. This was not the erotic death I had signed-up for. My body shook, my stomach heaved, I choked and coughed and gasped and passed out. When I came to, I was kneeling naked in the street behind an ambulance, shaking and coughing and choking. Someone threw a blanket over me. Minutes later, The Estrella was fussing over me in the ER. She said I would be fine, but she would keep me overnight because she didn’t understand my sporadic convulsions. She came in several times as I drifted in and out. She asked what had happened, I replied it was just oral sex gone wrong when whatever I ate for dinner came up, nothing at all, except I was strapped down when my dinner revolted. She said the Prof was also in the hospital, and had just come out of surgery. He had been assaulted in front of his house and his penis half-severed. His damage was repaired, he’d likely have normal erections again.

Some weeks later I called the Prof. He was pleased to hear from me. He was fully recovered and proudly hosted my genital trophy sculpture as the centerpiece in his bondage room. He said the killing debacle was his fault – he started stroking me too early and some air would have gotten to my lungs. And he was an idiot for thinking the drug-induced convulsions wouldn’t occur in my jaw muscles. He joked he had my teeth marks permanently scarred on his penis, of which he was very proud. No hard feelings, and if I was ready to try again, he’d use surgical jaw clamps to keep my mouth open. The process we used had been validated by the first attempt, and he promised he’d succeed in fucking me to death the second time around. I felt the black tension growing in my groin. I said I’d have to think about it. As an enticement, he offered to video the entire process, so he could watch it at his pleasure and show it to selected gringo-haters. Now the black tension was roaring inside me, and I hastily signed off. I was ready to go to him. I needed to cool off and think, so I called the Estrella, and let her voice sooth me.

* * *

I was feeling ratty, laying in bed as the Estrella twitched and moaned beside me. We had spent half the night rolling her through the levels of Hades, only to stall out at the fourth level when she seized my head between her thighs, rolled over and almost broke my neck by her convulsions. Now she lay on her back, one hand rubbing her clitoris energetically, the other hand pulling and twisting a nipple towards the heavens. It was beautiful, and I was content to watch. The spectacle did not dispel my ratty-ness, I missed my penis at that moment and she missed it too. Well, not my penis, a penis 30 years younger.

When she finished, we talked for a while. She said she noticed my genital trophy sculpture was missing from the mantel, and she apologized for calling it creepy. She had a surprise – she brought formaldehyde from the lab and said we should change the cloudy fluid. I had to confess I gave the sculpture to The Prof. She talked about him for a while. Shortly after the assault that almost claimed his penis, he came out of the closet, left his wife and now lived with his lover at his apartment. Since then, he had become more friendly to her and everyone else at the hospital and had actually become a favorite among the med students. He declined most, maybe all, requests for ‘sexual points,’ he seemed to be focused on his partner. She grew animated – let’s give him a surprise visit right now with the excuse of changing the sculpture liquid. I didn’t think that was a great idea, but I couldn’t say no to her. Like María before her, she had gradually replaced my volition with hers – just to go out in public with her twisted my guts with pure pleasure.

Of course, she already knew most of my story with The Prof, except for the last ‘accident’, and the Prof knew about my relationship with her. They had become friends in the ER – I thought the visit would be harmless. We knocked on his door, waited, thought no one was home when The Prof cracked the door and peeked out. He smiled when he saw us, opened the door and welcomed us in with a sweep of his arm. He was completely nude, semi-erect with some dark liquid slathered on his erection. We made somewhat awkward greetings, and he led us into his bondage room. He pointed the Estrella at the trophy sculpture, and without stopping, walked to the bed where his lover was strapped down.

His lover had his neck bent over the end of the bed with a thick neck cushion, and had some sort of hellish instrument of torture holding his mouth open; his body was shaking and contorting. After squirting some liquid into his lover’s mouth, the Prof straddled his lover’s head and plunged his penis to the hilt into his mouth in a single movement. The Prof hit a button on top of a clock on the end table, then leaned forward, rested his weight on his lover’s face, squirmed down until his lover’s face was buried, and we watched together as his chest heaved and his body shook.

I was mesmerized, reliving, and the Estrella squeezed my arm and hung on. I wanted to see better, to watch this man die of his own choice, and I moved to the side of the bed, pulling the Estrella with me. Amongst the convulsions, his impressive penis flopping from side-to-side, I saw the man’s penis was engorged and pulsating. I grabbed his penis and he immediately ejaculated, spraying The Prof’s neck and chest. I could feel the pulses of semen flowing through his penis.

The alarm sounded, The Prof hit the alarm button again and started stroking his lover’s throat. As his penis cleared his lover’s throat, we could hear the gasps and sucking sounds of desperate breathing. The Prof ejaculated almost immediately, seconds later, the alarm sounded and the Prof withdrew. The lover coughed several times, semen dribbled from his mouth, and he grinned ear-to-ear, “What a rush! Whew! Fantastic!” I looked at The Estrella, she was pale, sagging on my arm, face green. Now she knew what had happened to me the night of my ‘accident’, the night the Prof’s penis was almost severed.

While the Prof removed the torture device from his lover’s mouth, he asked me if I was ready. The black tension in my groin had turned to black flame consuming my body. I said YES, but with no clock, no stopping until I found peace. The Prof laughed, said he had found his peace. I was forgiven for the sins of the gringos, and NO, he would not kill me today. He unstrapped his lover, and laid on the bed for his turn of their game, ‘death by throating.’

The Estrella pulled me away to the trophy sculpture, and we changed the formaldehyde. I poked at my testicles, they were stiffer now, less rubbery, still firm. I felt removed from them like they had never belonged to me, they didn’t matter anymore. The Prof had put another plaque on the jar, inscribed, ‘Received in Penitence by Professor [Prof].’ with the date. As we turned to leave, we saw the Prof’s lover plunging his remarkably large penis deep into the Prof’s mouth. I wondered how it would ever fit.

As The Estrella drove us out, we decided to spoil ourselves with a first-class brunch. We were both unsettled by what we had seen and were mainly silent and reflective as she drove. Over an excellent salmon omelet, we talked. The Estrella explained they were doing a dangerous variation of oxygen deprivation for orgasm enhancement. I thought, “Why not?”

I remarked it was strange the Prof allowed us, especially the Estrella, in his door while nude and fucking his partner. She reminded me we first met and had oral sex in the same apartment. She confessed she had ‘pointed’ for grades several times with the Prof before she met me. This is why The Prof had chosen her for me. Even as an ardent homosexual, the Prof easily got an erection for her anus, and once he got excited, he’d take her vagina and mouth equally well. It wasn’t hetero sex, just a place to stick his penis and ejaculate. My admiration for this amazing woman ticked up several notches – the María-spirit was strong in her.

She asked me if I wanted to die. I told her sometimes my loss of María was unbearable, but no, I didn’t want to die.

We left the restaurant and decided to walk in the park across the street. The Estrella put her arm around my waist; I put my arm around her back and cupped her breast. I strutted like all those old gringos in the Zona Rosa in Mexico City, escorting whores younger than their daughters. The Estrella said,

“If you ever need to die, I’ll do it. Don’t go with some stranger who doesn’t love you.”

Te amo hasta la muerte mia. ” (I love you as deep as my death.)

I knew the meaning of love – it’s what you’re willing to kill or die for. She was willing to kill me for me. I was willing to die so she could kill me for me … The circular reasoning sounded the alarm in my head – people are willing to kill or die for every stupidity conceivable: their religion, their country, their race, penis cults of all descriptions, ugh! What a crock of mierda! I was wrong – love isn’t about killing or dying. I was lost again. I didn’t know what love is, but I knew I loved the Estrella.

The Estrella was not for me, she’d have her own young man and family soon. But until then, I would please her. Maybe that’s what love is.

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 25 – Part 1, The Seven Levels of Hades

This is chapter 25, 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 25 – Part 1, The Seven Levels of Hades

I awoke, I stretched out over the bed soothed and relaxed. My hallucination was exactly what I needed, a blueprint for ending my life. I was one of the lucky few that knew exactly how and when I would die. My day was planned. I had no hurry, nothing else to do. Peace, absolute peace, for the first time in my life. I puttered around the kitchen. Who could imagine that coffee and toast could taste so good. I went to feed Hell, but remembered she would feast on something much sweeter in the early afternoon.

I made a list of items that I should attend to first. Most had been completed already. I already had a will that passed all my assets and income to María and Brett. They had all my account numbers and passwords for my bank, investment and insurance accounts. Only personal items remained. I’d need to write a few emails, a few letters. I didn’t care what happened to my body, María would decide how best to cover-up the disgrace I had made of my life. I started on the letters first.

The Estrella called, said she was anxious to see me and had already found a ‘pene’ for our first threesome – could she come over that afternoon? I was at peace, I felt no urgency to having Hell take my life, so I said ‘sure’, and kept working on the letters and emails.

The Estrella showed up perky and cheerful, dragging along a ‘pene‘ that seemed apprehensive about the situation. She brought my first container of testosterone replacement medication and gave the first dosage. I was dressed for their visit, and rather than wait for the ‘pene‘ to move on the Estrella, I told him curtly that I was impotent. I grabbed her and began kissing her neck, her ears, her shoulders, undressing her. I removed her blouse and bra and kissed her nipples. The ‘pene‘ heated up, pulled her panty off from under her mini-skirt and began to fondle her vulva. She was already wet, and he finger-fucked her for a moment, then dropped his pants. I moved away from her so he could mount her. he pulled her legs up into the air, slide between them and did not stop sliding until he was fully embedded into her. He stroked her furiously while I caressed her breasts, body and face. The ‘pene‘ ejaculated well before the Estrella had started her ascent into orgasm, and after he rolled off of her body, I put my mouth to her vulva and cleaned away the ‘pene’s‘ semen. The ‘pene‘ was grossed-out. He made several cutting remarks about both the Estrella and I, that we were perverts, and he walked away to watch the snakes. I sucked the Estrella to a moaning orgasm, just one, as she was perturbed by the ‘pene’s‘ presence in the room. I took the pleasure of dressing her slowly, admiring and commenting on the beauty of her body. I whispered, “I love you, slut,” and went for her hairbrush, brushing her shining hair and stroking it with my hands. The Estrella was glowing, I adored her, and the ‘pene‘ was bored and upset at this old man pawing a woman half his age.

The ‘pene‘ was poking at the snakes with a stick, taunting them, so I offered to show them a snake trick. The ‘pene‘ was all go; the Estrella looked at me with sharp eyes sticking like barbed hooks in my heart with every word and gesture. I gathered my string and the snake box, and undressed. The ‘pene‘ dropped his jaw to see my genitals: penis broken, bangles, and shrunken scrotum. I explained what I was going to do while I tied the rubber testicles properly in-line with the penis. I asked the ‘pene‘ to free the larger snake in front of my penis. He did so eagerly, and Hell immediately struck my penis and begin swallowing it. The Estrella watched with horror and the ‘pene‘ turned green. When Hell swallowed the testicles, the ‘pene‘ ran to the bathroom and I heard the grunts of vomiting. I allowed Hell to arrive almost to my abdomen, then I grabbed her mouth, opened her jaws, and began to work her off my genitals. The Estrella grabbed Hell’s body and helped control her squirming. I saw the doctor reappear in her face. I had to step over the ‘pene‘ in the bathroom to wash my genitals as he just sat there on the floor leaning green-faced against the toilet. I asked the Estrella if he was a ‘menso’ – he obviously wasn’t fit for being a doctor, and she affirmed.

The Estrella was both fascinated and deeply disturbed by the snake show. She ordered me to pack, she was taking me to Guatemala City without the snakes. She told me to take all my clothes – I couldn’t be nude in her apartment. We dumped the ‘pene‘ at his place along the way and when we arrived at her apartment, she cleaned out a drawer for my stuff in her bedroom closet – I was to sleep with her.

That night, we cuddled and spooned, and the barbed hooks she impaled in me were larger and sharper, they hurt so richly. The next day, I slept late and I rummaged around her apartment while she was at school. I discovered a big stack of unpaid bills and collection notices; the kitchen was almost bare. The Estrella was financially distressed; probably her scholarship and grants were inadequate for her expenses. I also found some notes and school papers from another girl. Evidently, the Estrella had a roommate for a long while. Then I found a stash of love notes and poems – the roommate had been the Estrella’s lover. Hmmm … the Estrella was not a lesbian type.

I had some cash, so I went out and paid the most urgent bills and bought a big load of groceries, as well as some candles and flowers. I cleaned the kitchen, and prepared one of the few dishes I knew how to cook, spaghetti (I bought the meat sauce), salad and garlic bread, and set the table with candles and flowers.

The Estrella came home exhausted and angry from the hospital. She cried when she saw the romantic setting, hugged me and cried and cried and cried. She was in full Female mode again, Isis, totally disarmed and vulnerable, the hard cold doctor was gone. I could have done anything I wanted with her at that moment – ravish her vulva, fuck her with a telephone pole, kill her. Her eyes became immense brown swirling Whorepools. I could have abused her, instead she destroyed me, purged me of the dark heavy Male blood, cleansed then consumed me. I did the worst thing possible, I embraced her and loved her, loved her, surrendered completely to her. We cried together, but I cried also for the loss of María.

As we ate dinner, she told me her sad story. Every ‘pene‘ that she had a relation with was a pig. They abused her, cheated on her, and she had two pregnancies and abortions. In desperation, she took a woman lover, initially the happiest months of her life. But her lover was insanely jealous, envious of her success at the hospital, and the Estrella missed having a penis. They broke up three months ago. Her disastrous personal life had driven her to study harder and she did well at the hospital, but the loss of her roommate lover left her financially strapped. We slept tightly embraced. I got up with her in the morning, dried, brushed, and stroked her shining hair, and made her breakfast while she dressed. We were two broken people propping each other upright.

After she left for the hospital, I called my financial planner and broker in the USA. I had him divide my paper financial assets in two equal parts, and put María as exclusive owner on one part, so I could never touch it again. I was lucid but I now recognized that I was unstable. The second half of my assets I divided evenly once again, and made my son the exclusive owner of half. Of the remaining 25%, I had him sell enough to pay for a year of adequate living expenses, and wire the proceeds to my Mexican bank. I also signed-up on-line for early Social Security benefits. I was financially OK for living expenses as long as I had no grave emergencies.

The day was shot so I went out, bought Chinese, lots of flowers, candles, liquor-filled chocolates, and made the table again. For as long as the Estrella would tolerate me in her life, she would know that at least one man wasn’t an abusive pig, however old, demented and deformed I might be.

The Estrella came home happy and bubbling that evening – she had saved a child’s life in the ER. We made love, in my limited fashion; as I kissed her nipples and sucked her clitoris, I thought of María, but I was happy. This pretty, intelligent ‘estrella‘ filled my being with the barbed hooks of Female; when she left me, she would break my heart and rip me apart, and I was happy. Life was good again.

I called the Prof. and told him I would be delayed another week. I was still interested in the bondage and was willing to suck and fuck him, but the Estrella was drawing me in. I eventually told him that I wouldn’t be his lover, but I’d visit him about once per week.

The Prof and I settled into a routine. We always did the exact same two bondage tricks together, the swinging suck and the swinging fuck, or the swinging suck and the ‘missionary fuck’ where he knocked me out with pressure on my neck arteries. I always insisted on the swinging suck because I enjoyed the bondage in sucking his penis and swallowing his semen. The sadism of the knock-out missionary fuck gave him explosive orgasms.

I told him that he could realize his fantasy to fuck me to death by squeezing my neck arteries and delaying his orgasm until the moment of my death. We discussed this dispassionately – the Prof. had no moral issues with killing me, and I realized that he didn’t have the slightest affection for me, I was simply an exciting sex toy. If I was willing to die, he was certainly willing to trade my life for a super orgasm. But there were multiple logistical problems: what if I remained alive but brain damaged? How to dispose of the body? How not to get caught? He was a coward.

I still refused to kiss him, the possibility of a fuck to the death did exist, so it was worth the visits. I didn’t charge him anything (although I accepted his gifts – I was still a hooker.) I was also grateful that he had brought me that fabulous slut, the Estrella.

So the Estrella and I began a routine that lasted over a year: in the mornings I brushed and stroked her hair, stroked her body if she had spare time, and made her breakfast. I cleaned the house (I quickly found a twice-weekly maid,) shopped, and made our dinner. I learned to cook some, spent hours buying and arranging flowers around the house to please her, but the flowers could never match her beauty. I paid all the utility bills, and kept the pantry full. It pleased me to please her in small and large ways, and everything I did for her I did also in honor of María whom I still loved intensely. I continued the hormone replacement therapy, I felt better and my breasts shrank back below A-cup size. We always slept together except when she brought a ‘pene‘ to the house, about 3-4 times per month. She told these ‘penes‘ that the strange man in her apartment was her uncle. I cleaned her vulva and sucked her to orgasm 2-3 times per week, including after the ‘penes‘ had ejaculated into her.

We went out often to cafés, restaurants and bars where the other customers assumed she was either my daughter or a paid-for whore. We talked about everything, our lives, our lovers, everything large and trivial. I told her every thing about María. The Estrella was sharp – she drilled into me, pulling out the details of my life. No detail was too small for her, and she soon understood me better than I.

And that didn’t frighten her away.

* * *

I got the idea for what we called the seven levels of Hades from a women’s magazine – I think it was Cosmopolitan. I read one of those articles that promised sexual heaven for the woman (and man) that followed its tips on cunnilingus. I determined I could compensate for my broken penis by developing outstanding use of my lips and tongue. I scoured magazines, books, and porno videos for techniques and tried them on the Estrella. This turned into a great game by which we tried different techniques, and altered their order to give her a long orgasmic experience that included sharp, fast orgasms mixed with prolonged, rolling orgasms. When she finally decided that it couldn’t get any better, we had seven techniques, applied in a specific order that satiated her physically, sexually, mentally and emotionally. We did this at least once a week, although we often didn’t make it through all seven levels – she would sometimes beg to stop at levels 4 – 6. Hades was all about her pleasure, and was all in her vulva using my lips and tongue and fingers. She was pre-warmed by deep kissing of the mouth and nipples.

An unfortunate side effect of Hades was she fell in love with me. I knew she missed having a strong penis, and I pressured her to have young men frequently, usually ‘sexual point’ volunteers. My love for the Estrella did not diminish my love for María, quite the opposite. I wanted María back more than ever, I wanted to give her Hades also, and perhaps win a permanent spot in her sexual calendar.

The Estrella’s grades and performance at the hospital improved as her home life unstressed and she was relieved of house duties. She never, ever once asked me for money or to do things for her. I volunteered and pried activities from her that I could help her with. I began doing medical research for her at the university library – she’d give me list a of search terms and I’d assemble the materials for her to read. I noticed in the library multitudes of young women, stressed and harassed, some as attractive and sharp as the Estrella, and I felt so sorry for them. I asked the Estrella about the ‘sexual point’ process – she said that nearly every female student she knew participated, only the indigenous girls never did it. She said that she had exchanged sex for grades, and at hard times, for money. She surprised me when she told me she had just ‘pointed’ two days before, with a woman staff doctor. I had somehow imagined that she didn’t need that any more.

I bought her small presents, mainly exotic lingerie, sexy clothes, perfumes and costume jewelry – I was unconsciously projecting María on the Estrella. The Estrella loved the gifts and started wearing them daily. The gifts made her feel sexy, more attractive, and combined with her general happiness, the men certainly noticed. She began to have better ‘pene‘ visitors more often, and I was very pleased to hear her screaming orgasms on occasion.

The Estrella and I discussed her ‘penes‘ extensively, trying to determine which, if any, would be good long-term candidates for her life. She said that most of the ‘penes‘ were good for fucking but little else, they were just sluts. I began to re-paint my mental images of men, they ceased being human, and became just huge sacks of testosterone enclosed in a human-shaped scrotum with a phallus protruding. They came to the Estrella swinging their penises just as I had done decades before in Europe – they were me, and I detested them. She occasionally brought home another woman; she told me she had to be careful with women, they still had the power to draw her into their vulvae.

I loved the Estrella, her gestures, her eyes, her mannerisms, her kindness, her hair, her generosity, every part of her body, soul, heart. María had overwhelmed me with her beauty and sensuality; she had many of the same qualities as the Estrella, but I didn’t see them as clearly in the deluge of her beauty and sexuality. I realized how much I had taken María for granted in the familiarity of three decades of marriage. How I regretted that waste, my obliviousness, my stupidity. This was another consequence of the tyranny of great beauty, that it obscured many of the small beauties within the same woman. I began to look at other women again, not just at their physical parts, not just from penis lust but also from Isis love. I looked at their faces, their eyes, how they carried their bodies, how they dressed to express their personalities, how they fended off predator men. I lusted after their thoughts, their emotions, their phobias, their joys, their ‘mañas’ (eccentricities), their fears, their hearts, their souls. What I would have given to have had my eyes opened to women when I was 18 years old!

* * *

I ran into the White Witch at the university library, and we went for a coffee. Just small talk, the weather, etc. She didn’t know I had left PerfectPenis and lived in Guatemala City by the med school. When I told her, she became agitated and blurted out,

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m deeply ashamed. I never hurt anyone before. I tortured you, watched as you screamed and twisted. Then I dumped you at the hospital, and drove away.”

“Forget it. I told you to do it. I deserved it, and you needed it. Besides, the testicle wasn’t functional anymore.”

“What do you mean, ‘I needed it’?”

“You had a lot of repressed sexual frustration and violence you needed to work out. I was pleased to give you that chance.”

“I’ve been disturbed since then, I’m not sleeping well either. I can’t get what you said and what I did out of my mind. I can’t believe I was capable of torture.”

“It was just a natural and inevitable outburst of your beliefs. You believe in a system based on violence. The violence is usually hidden away, sanitized inside bureaucracies and laundered through government police and militaries. But sometimes it pops out at the moment, impossible to miss, and it’s ugly.”

“Do you remember it, the pain?”

“No, not really, I watched you from above. You were crying hysterically, holding my throat with your other hand, talking to yourself. I couldn’t understand you, but I felt that maybe you were talking to and castrating someone else. Want to tell me about it?”

“No, it was you. But I don’t know why. Maybe because you didn’t respect me like the others. You let me torment you in public, but then dug into my vulva and found all my desires and insecurities. You had the power to expose me, but you didn’t. How can you forgive what I did?”

“I’ll forgive you if you let me take you to dinner on Saturday?”

“You know, I’ve only had a handful of real dates in all my life, and I’ve never had what you’d call a boyfriend before. When I go out with a man, it’s always my idea and I just take them to fuck. It’s usually not too satisfying, well you were the best and you didn’t even have a penis…”

If it’s just sex you want, try PP. He has the most beautiful penis conceivable. That’s how he seduced María, how he seduced me. María and I call him PerfectPenis. But be careful, once he gets his penis into you, you may never get it out. And he’ll never love you – he doesn’t love anyone, he owns them. He owns María, he owns me, and he’ll own you. But it still might be worthwhile to experience his penis. He fucked me mouth and anus, and I cried and begged him for more. He hated me, but I still crave it, I’d kneel to him and beg him for his penis, I’d let him fuck me in front of the whole world. Be careful with him. And if you haven’t tried a woman, María will be perfect for you.

“No, I’d love to have normal romantic dates. But I certainly don’t want to be treated like a pampered princess, or a stupid trophy blond …”

“You probably wanted to be treated equally, like one of the boys. Well congratulations, you succeeded. But I want to be with you because you’re not one of the boys. I see you as a woman. I’m asking you because your presence honors me. You’re clearly more intelligent than me. You’re better educated, more cultivated, and quite interesting. And you’re damn attractive too. Your presence honors me, makes me look better than I am. I’d be honored to take you out, just like I’m honored to be with you now. But yes, I want to show you I see and appreciate your qualities. I want to open doors for you, escort you on my arm, stand for you and seat you at the table. Because whether or not we can ever be equal in achievements, you have the potential of a woman, and I’ll never have your potential in humanity. That’s biology, and in my opinion, is irrefutable.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been treated, never wanted to be treated like that before. I don’t want to be a treasured object on a pedestal. I just want to be treated like me, whatever that is.”

“But that’s how I see you, see all women like you. As the unique and irreplaceable piece that man is missing – not to save the world, but to save the man. I honor you because I’m selfish, because you can complete and save me.”

WhiteWitch floundered, “I don’t know. What will we do or talk about, we’re totally different?”

“We can discuss politics or religion or economics or sports or fashion or whatever you want. For me, liberty is my core belief and I’ll not give that up. Socialism and feminism is your religion, and you won’t change either. Let’s just agree to disagree, that we don’t insult each other, and if we get upset, I’ll kneel and kiss your vulva until we’re OK again. You can be a great woman, just how you’re looking at me, your voice caresses me, your hair soothes me. You can save me, and I’ll forgive you anything for that, even my castration.”

“Oh no, you’ll want to change me, to save me. You think I’m wrong and you can convert me …”

“No, I don’t want to change you. I don’t have the power to change you. If you ever change, it will come from within you. But you have the power of a woman, to save a man, to save me. And maybe you’ll rethink yourself in that process. I promise I won’t try to change you, we can completely avoid talking about those things. Let’s just talk about us, a woman and a broken man.”

“It’s not that easy for me, it’s complicated. Of course, word of the … of what I did to you spread quickly. My status as the Marxist queen, as you so crudely phrased it once, is completely cemented. I now give paid lectures and get huge grants for gender research now. What would they think if I’m seen socially with you, the eunuch.”

“You’ve replaced PP as the leader of the capitalistic pig castration squad. You can tell them I’m your eunuch houseboy, for all I care. Tell them I live in a doghouse in your garage on a leash, if you want. At the moment, what I’d really like to do is get another taste of you …”

“That’s not fair! You’re using my body against me. I don’t want to have just explosive orgasms, I want to be loved, I want to love too.”

“You did love me, when you castrated me. A woman can only castrate for love. PP castrated me with hate, but you did it for love. And I could easily love you, will love you the next time I taste you …”

“You’re wrong, I hated you. I wanted to kill you with pain. When you passed-out and stopped screaming, I hated you because I couldn’t hurt you more, because you wouldn’t die for me. That’s when I crushed your testicle against the bangle. I felt it break into pieces, and I hated you then.”

“No, you loved me. Now let me love you. You can absorb me into you, you can save me.”

“No, I don’t know. I’m not ready for this, for you. You’re not even a complete man. I would ruin my career for a half-man. I’m not ready for that.”

“Then let me taste you, just for the orgasm. Let me love you and I’ll love you forever. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.”

“Please don’t ask me again. I’ll say ‘yes’, and I don’t want it. I’m not ready for this.”

“Take my card, call me when you’re ready. When you want to be loved, unconditionally.”

She walked away crying. I noticed that she had changed her dress style. She wore a tight dress that painted her body. Her hips swayed like only a Latin woman can do. Yes, I would easily love her if she would choose me. I would drown in her.

But she never called.

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 24 – Part 2, Death by Hell

This is chapter 24, 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 24 – Part 2, Death by Hell

I decided to work on the snake show. I had come to enjoy giving the show and to enjoy the feel of Hilda enclosing my penis – it was the closest semblance to a vagina that I had available. I retrieved a box with tie-wraps and string from the closet, and the snake cage. I felt good, happy, so I took the zip-lock bag with María’s panty.

I went to my living room, sit in a heavy wood chair, and extracted María’s panty from the bag. I breathed deeply of her fragrance, I tasted the crotch of the panty, it was still delicious. I became exuberant, and I started working on the snake trick. PP always wanted the snake to swallow my testicles, real or fake, together with my penis. Since I had stretched my scrotum with the bangles, I thought I figured out how to manage it. I removed the bangles from my scrotum, tightened a tie-wrap around my scrotum just above the testicle, and tied string to the tie-wrap. I scrunched-up my penis and tied the other end of the string snugly just under my penis head. When I extended my penis, the string pulled the testicles up and against the penis still leaving some penis slack. The testicles met the penis about half way down the penis length. I could see that if both testicles were presented to the snake bunched together, the snake wouldn’t be able to swallow over them. I tried various tying techniques to put the testicles in line with the penis, one behind the other. I found that by removing the tie-wrap, separating the testicles within the scrotum, and tying them separately with string, I could present the testicles at least diagonally to the snake as she swallowed advancing down my penis.

I sit on the floor in front of the chair, coated my penis head with the anesthesia cream, and waited a few minutes for the penis head to become numb. I would be using the larger snake, Hell, because Hilda’s head was too small to swallow even the small, fake testicles.

I opened the snake cage in front of me, and Hell poked her head out of the box. Since my testicles were stretched under the penis, raising the penis about one inch, I jiggled my penis at Hell in the air instead of along the floor. Hell came out of the cage straight at me and struck my penis so fast I didn’t have time to anticipate the shock. I saw that my penis head had disappeared completely inside Hell’s mouth on the first bite, and it was less painful, as her teeth had passed over the penis head. I mentally noted this improvement for future shows.

Hell pulled back on my penis and my testicle pulled out and up tight against the penis. Hell worked her way down my penis, swallowing it a few millimeters at a time, appreciably faster than Hilda, and, as always, I found it fascinating to watch. It seemed magic, and I saw Hell’s body enlarge as my penis moved into its gullet. When Hell encountered the first testicle, she required multiple bites to pull it into her mouth – it was painful. The other testicle shifted diagonally, pulled more in line with my penis, and it also disappeared after several bites and pulls. Hell’s longer teeth penetrated the scrotum, pierced into the fake testicles, a new type of genital pain that I found pleasurable and I noted this for future shows.

Now I saw the much larger bulge in Hell’s body as the testicles passed into the gullet. I became very excited, I had finally achieved complete genital disappearance into the snake, and I became aroused, feeling the black tension building in my groin. My lower penis section engorged. I wished I had thought to get a video camera to show this to PP and María, but that could come later. There would be many more shows now that I had mastered this. Hell continued swallowing up my penis, and when she arrived at my abdomen, she didn’t stop like Hilda always did. Hell’s jaws opened wider, she got her upper jaw up on my abdomen, while her lower jaw extended to grab the lower scrotum and scrunch-up the loose scrotum skin inside her mouth. I grabbed and held her jaws until she quieted, then I waited to feel the burning sensation.

I was strongly aroused, I thought I might even reach climax, and I wanted to burn. I stood up and walked around, dragging Hell between my legs, feeling my desire, savoring the arousal in my groin, rolling my hips to shake Hell and find some stimulation in my genitals, wanting to ejaculate so I could remove Hell from my body. I wanted to burn, to climax. I would burn until I climaxed!

The bulge of my testicles had shifted within Hell’s gullet as I walked around. It had moved around on the side of Hell’s body. I felt my penis head begin to burn, Hell’s digestive acids were stronger than Hilda’s. The sensitive scrotum around the testicle burned stronger. I shook my hips and wiggled and waited and waited and burned. I checked my watch, this was twice the time that I had ever waited before removing the big snake. Still I waited, and I felt my entire genitals burning up and dissolving.

I thought about María, about Rosa, about the Estrella, imagining their richness, imagining my penis fucking them, the penises of dozens of men thrusting into their slutty vaginae. The tensions in my groin grew stronger, hurt me, burned me. I wanted and needed the relief of an ejaculation, but it wouldn’t come. I didn’t know how much longer I could stand the pain, still I waited.

I realized I was mutilating my genitals, they would be too damaged to display as a trophy for PerfectPenis. I felt I was arriving at my pain limit, I had to decide, to act before I started screaming, and I decided.

I would give my genitals to Hell. I took out the piano wire slicer, wrapped it around my genitals and waited. When the pain became unbearable, I would sever my genitals into Hell’s mouth. She would be pleased with her meal, and I would bleed to death.

I grabbed Hell with both hands behind her mouth and pulled her towards me to release her back-slanted teeth. But I didn’t stop, I pulled her mouth further onto my abdomen, as if thrusting my penis to the limit into María’s vagina, pushing another half inch of my penis into Hell´s gullet. Hell bit down again, and I felt her lower teeth penetrate close to my anus.

I heard a moaning scream and knew I wouldn’t endure the pain. I grabbed two large tie-wraps, joined them together in a loop, twisted them around several times to form a figure-eight, then stuck one hand through the arm rest of the chair and both hands though the tie-wraps. I used my teeth to tighten the tie-wrap, wiggling my hands to remove the slack while I pulled with my teeth. Finally, my hands were tightly bound around the arm rest.

Now there was no possible way to release my hands or to remove Hell from my genitals. I realized I hadn’t severed my genitals, now helpless to do so.

I nuzzled María’s panty with my face, transported by her fragrance above the pain. I sucked her panty crotch into my mouth, flooding it with saliva, then extracting and savoring her taste for the last time. Maybe there was a god – how else could such exquisite flavors be created? I pulled the rest of the panty into my mouth with my tongue and teeth, and bit down to stifle my impulse to scream.

An excruciating wave of pain roiled me as my scrotal sac gave way and the digestive acids flooded inside me, over the sperm and blood tubes and the nerves. I had no idea of the state of my penis, I felt nothing but burning pain. I twisted my arm to see my watch – Hell had been attached to my genitals for several hours, and no one would arrive at the house for three days.

I felt Hell squirming and saw my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I lowered and raised my legs, but I couldn’t stop the shaking. Hell squirmed and pulled at my genitals, Her body where my penis head had been was no longer enlarged, the soft tissues of my penis head must have dissolved away. I was happy to be free of the evil that my penis represented in the world.

I felt pressure in my bladder, I needed to urinate badly. I didn’t know what to do, so I just released my bladder. I feel nothing but burning, I don’t know if I urinated. Hell squirmed violently, pulling against me, my body began shaking like my legs, and rose-colored liquid leaked from Hell’s mouth. I realized I was making a mess on the floor, but saw the floor was varnished terracotta tile, it would clean easily.

How would I clean-up my blood and urine? What if my bowels released – it would be an embarrassing mess. I must clean-up my mess before anyone comes to the apartment.

Drops of blood leaked from Hell’s mouth – the dissolving blood vessels in my scrotum and penis would soon be spilling my blood into the snakes gullet. Whether the snake consumed the blood, or it spilled over into the floor, I would likely bleed to death within a few hours. If I did survive, the remains of my genitals would be unrecognizable. I didn’t want to make a mess on the floor, but I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed with pain.

I started drifting in and out of erotic visions that were framed within a rotating kaleidoscope of the mosaic patterns around the edge of the floor. I noticed that the room getting dusky, and wondered why – I could see from my wristwatch that it was barely 5:00 PM. I closed my eyes and re-entered the clarity and brightness of my mind.

How selfish I was to die in this manner – what about our son? How would María explain death by garden-snake-penis-feeding to him? Then I relaxed, María would force PP to cover-up my castration, bisexuality, snake penis feeding, everything. Perhaps they’d simply disappear my body. You can do that in Guatemala.

Our son was just weeks away from having his first child and the grandchild had already been identified as a girl by ultrasound. I had really anticipated seeing my granddaughter – but, well, my son was not really my seed, none of my genes resided in him, and the granddaughter would be nothing of me. My seed, my line died with me. But I still would have done anything for my son and his future daughter, simply because they carried María’s genes.

I had the perverse thought that I should have impregnated Rosa when I last fucked her, our son came back within a few days, and he wouldn’t have known it wasn’t his child. That would have continued my seed, and Rosa with my child would have united our blood lines. I hadn’t worn condoms when I fucked her because I told her I had a vasectomy – another stupid decision that prevented me from giving María another child, a girl, and from impregnating Rosa.

On further reflection, I thought maybe I shouldn’t ever know my granddaughter, she would surely break my heart. I thought of my granddaughter with the genes of María and Rosa. She would be a stunning beauty and a stunning slut. From her first menstrual period, if I lived that long, I would be terrified for her and how men would feed off her. She would break my heart.

I knew that Rosa would cheat serially on my son. I hoped she would be discreet and he would never find out. He had a strong character, he was not an ordinary guy, and Rosa wouldn’t break him like María broke me. He would break-up their family and my granddaughter would be cut adrift. I also knew that Rosa would get caught cheating, she was just too easy to score.

I thought of how quickly and easily I had lost María – just the time needed to twist and break a penis, no more than an eye bat in the scale of decades of marriage. PP was genius for castrating me. María would have pulled me back to her, was already pulling me back away from PP’s hypnotic power, from my perverted obsession with PP and his perfect penis. Crushing my testicles was recoverable; PP’s genius was in breaking my penis – María could not have a man with a broken penis, and his perfect penis became compelling for her.

The mental images of my entire life with María scrolled forward and backwards rapidly. I wondered what I should have done differently. I realized that the earliest years of our marriage had set the direction of our lives – those years of dancing in the salsa club. I certainly would hit the German guy; I would forbid her to be finger-fucked, disrobed, vagina-licked, and would forbid her from fucking the dozens and dozens and dozens of men that I watched and helped her fuck. I knew that none of these prohibitions would have made any difference; they would have only change the timing of when she broke me.

No, I wouldn’t change anything at all about my life, even up to this moment. And what a life! What a ride! Through sex, love, impotency, perversion, castration, homosexuality, prostitution, madness, and now death, a life more exciting than even a fiction writer could invent. I re-lived my 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. I realized my life’s negative events weren’t negative at all, simply important and necessary experiences in the trajectory of my life with María.

The years of my life began to appear in random sequence, the good and bad, important events, friends, love, and sex, sex, sex… all these fleeting memories revolved around the universe of María, how her sensuality and sexuality drove my entire life, defined my self-concept, thrilled me, broke me. María was the 99% of the 80%-20% rule. My whole life was wrapped around her, and then, she vanished from my life, and I couldn’t bear it.

I began searching through these memories, for a specific image that I remembered but couldn’t retrieve, until … there it was! The crystal clear image of María reclining on Terri’s couch, just before the gang-rape. Except for a see-through wisp of fabric, María’s genitals were fully exposed. Every part that mattered of her vulva was exposed through the cut-outs in the lace, the outer and inner lips, clitoris, even the entrance to her vagina was clearly visible. Laying there, she was extraordinarily beautiful, like a decorated party cake with the lace and the colors of her skirt, panty, hose, garter belt, the couch, even the rose of her exposed nipple. Her face was angelic, and her legs were a perfect sculpture in marble. The small wisp of lace that covered part of her vulva just accentuated what was exposed. I thought that I was looking at the most beautiful example of female genitalia ever displayed or even conceivable, it was the masterpiece of female sexuality, the PerfectVulva.

María’s vulva became moist, and wet the panty, which became transparent as I watched and then just dissolved to nothing. María’s labia peeled to the outside, replaced by another duet of labia, and another duet, and another, inner and outer labia appearing and peeling away like petals of a fresh flower opening for the first time, forever. I was astonished at the infinity of labia appearing and rolling to the sides, always framing the vagina and clitoris perfectly. I must have died and found my paradise. I thought of the pleasure that awaited me, an infinity of cleaning her labia, her vulva, I must get started or I’ll never finish. And I never did finish, forever.

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 24 – Part 1, The Estrella is María

This is chapter 24, 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 24 – Part 1, The Estrella is María

I thought about life with the Prof. He could supply me with a constant stream of young, fresh, vulvae and breasts I could luxuriate in, the wet dream of every dirty-old-man. I would become expert in giving oral orgasms to these girls, such that they would forgive my ridiculous appearance, my deformity and age, and be willing to visit me. And I´d have an occasional young, fresh, solid penis when I was in the right mood. I would become an expert in bondage, not only of myself but of the young men and women that would be served to the Prof and I.

* * *

The Estrella called me, talking so fast I could barely follow her. She wanted to see me, and her wish is my command.

I jumped on a bus to Guatemala City and met her at a coffee shop. She wore the skimpiest, shortest dress, so short I thought it should be illegal. Her hair and makeup were disheveled, she was pungent with sweat, hormones and pheromones. I commented, “There’s no question of the color and size of your nipples,” which engorged as I spoke. She reddened, but then spun around, raising her hemline above her waist to reveal her see-through lace panty. The pop of penises produced an audible air surge in the room. She sat, pulled on her hem attempting to cover everything and beamed at me.

“I have something for you and a great story. Last night, I went to the dance-club to pick up the DVDs of María’s dancing. This is the outfit I wore, I thought you’d like to see it.”

“I’m surprised you got out of the club alive in that outfit.”

“Well, the club was full as usual, and I went to see the owner at the stand-up bar. He was knocked over by my dress, and he had this box for you. We sat and talked for awhile. He could remember every time he had seen Maria all those years ago.

“He told me my mother, María, was the most beautiful and sexy woman he had ever seen, and he was truly sorry she was gone. He had been obsessed by her, he wanted desperately to own her, to dance with her, to make love to her. His obsession with María caused him to neglect his wife, destroyed his marriage, left him lonely and depressed. He said, “Me dolió hasta la alma echarla del club.” (it hurt me deep into my soul to eject her from the club.) Now that María was gone, he said he could finally be free again.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. He gave me a small gift for you – the small plaque inscribed with María’s name, it’s in the box.

“Then he got confused, he couldn’t remember his bartender’s name and he started calling me María, and gave me an idea. When a slow son started playing, I asked him to dance. I told the barman to keep the songs slow until we finished. We shuffled on the main floor for a few minutes, dancing close. I nuzzled his neck and face, and whispered to him to take me to the back room. He did, he was so excited he could hardly walk, he grabbed my ass under the dress, steered me into the back room, and I told him to take me to María’s corner.

“He was such a gentleman, I had to tell him to do everything. We kissed, I told him to rub my breasts and body while I had my arms around his neck. He called me María, and I said, ‘Yes, I’m your María.’ I dropped my shoulder straps, and my dress slid down to the floor, I had nothing on but these panties. I told him to kiss my nipples and finger me. He slid his hand inside the top of my panties, but they were tight and he had a hard time getting inside my pussy. I pulled the panties down to my ankles and off, opened my legs, and he fingered me nicely. It felt really good, I thought I might get to climax, so I told him I was taking him to the clients’ room.

“I remembered what María had done, I left my clothes on the floor and walked out, across the main room totally nude, pulling him by the hand. Some of the people applauded me, but I wasn’t embarrassed. We found an empty room, and I lay on the bed and told him, ‘I’m your María, I’ve waited years for this, please fuck me now.’ He pulled his clothes off and lay next to me. He fingered me again, sucked my nipples, and said, ‘I had a minor stroke a few years ago, and not all of me recovered. I haven’t had a hard-on since then.’ I said, ‘I want to feel your cock in my pussy, please rub me there.’ I was super wet, he rubbed me with his cock, it grew a little bit but not hard. It felt good and I knew I could climax. But I saw in his face he was going to climax, so I faked a climax so loudly it would be heard in the adjoining rooms, and he came, little spurts. It felt good, but he got too soft and I never came. We lay there talking for awhile. I told him he had been deep inside me, so deep it felt like he banged against my heart.

“He thought I really was María. He kept asking if I remembered things she had done or happened, and I agreed with everything. One of the bouncers knocked, opened the door and set my clothes inside – he got a good look at my pussy. He said the owner was needed at the bar. We dressed and went out. You won’t guess what happened next.”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Everyone in the club stood and applauded … him. The ancient guy had scored a hot, sexy young chick, that’s me, in case you’re slow, and they clapped and hooted and banged their glasses. I’d never seen a man so happy and proud. I think that’s the finest thing I have ever done in my life.”

I said, “Hot and sexy is a gross understatement. If you saw how many men are adjusting their pants in here …”

“Stop drooling, when we get to my place, you’ll get as much of me as you can take. Anyway, he gave me the box and told me he had always loved me.

“It was late and I was dressed like this, so he had a bouncer drive me home, it was the guy that checked out my pussy. I was so excited and horny, and the bouncer wanted to fuck me. He was ugly, ignorant, and had a troll face. I asked myself, ‘What would María do?’ I felt something of María in me and I didn’t want to lose it. I thought she would say ‘yes’, and I couldn’t help myself so I blew him in the car, and then he pounded me good in the apartment.”

She was beaming. I remembered my night at the rumba dance with María when she forgave me and loved me again. I said, “No, your finest thing was saving me, and I love you for that.”

She said, “We’ll discuss someday who saved whom. Anyway, the box contained an envelope and a copy of María’s nude dance video and many other DVDs as well, the entire videotaped collection of María. I stayed up all night watching the videos with the bouncer, María’s dancing burned him and he fucked me over and over all night. Then he brought me here, I didn’t even get a chance to shower. I didn’t open the envelope but I think it’s money. Well, here is the envelope.”

“You really are María’s daughter and a true María. I’d be proud to adopt you, except I’d feel guilty about what I’m going to do you now. Let’s go your apartment.”

The bouncer had left semen – ugly, ignorant, troll-face semen all over her body and I kissed and licked her clean before arriving at her clitoris. She exploded immediately into orgasm, and for the first time since PP broke my penis, she sucked me to a shaking, spurting orgasm.

I asked, “Are you going to fuck the bouncer again? That’s what María would do.”

“Hell, no! I wouldn’t let a troglodyte like that anywhere close to my body. And what for, I’ve got you.”

I opened the envelope. It contained María’s name plaque, a lot of money and a note. The money were old bills no longer circulated. I didn’t know if they were a still accepted currency. The barely legible note said only, “To my love, María, your share of the club’s success.” I counted the money, it would have been close to $100,000 dollars equivalent at that time.

* * *

The Estrella said she had found a good ‘pene’ for our threesome, and asked when she could bring him to Antigua for our first adventure. I was very pleased and began to plan for that adventure. I wanted to buy some basic bondage ropes, at least to get my A-cup breasts tied-up like I had learned to enjoy. As kind of an afterthought, the Estrella again asked me if I now realized how demented I had become – I thought, ‘she has no idea.’

I considered the idea and results of having PP castrated. With the extra money I had earned selling my body to the Prof, I could afford to have his penis chopped off a few millimeters at each whack. María would leave him even faster than she left me, and … and I still wouldn’t recover her. María could never be mine again, although I might be able to see her from time-to-time. Maybe she’d allow me to kiss her vulva again. Why not, nothing to lose, I would do it!

I made inquiries through the Prof. for these ‘sicarios‘ (hit men). It was easy, the Prof had a close friend that owned large rental properties, and he used ‘sicarios‘ to solve problems with squatters. I had the contact information within a day and a contract within two days. It would cost me $200 dollars because the hit-man would have to travel to Antigua to do surveillance. I left the $100 down-payment in the designated drop-off point, with a guarantee of PP’s penis in a box within one week of his return to Antigua.

But in a sane moment, the evil of what I planned revolted me. The PerfectPenis’ penis was a masterpiece, worthy of a sculpture in a museum. I could no more damage it than I could sledgehammer Michelangelo’s David. Furthermore, it was a perfect match for María’s perfect vulva. PP made her happy, fulfilled her, satiated her, pleased her – I would kill myself before I would take PP away from María.

I suppressed the revenge impulses of the dark heavy Male blood. I took down a bottle of ‘aguardiente La Indita‘ (raw sugarcane alcohol) and poured myself a stiff drink, then another and another, more than I had drank in 20 years. Listening to ‘Por Mujeres Como Tu’ through an alcoholic haze, I remembered all my years with María. No other man had ever been so privileged, why wasn’t I content with that? Why wasn’t that enough? Why was my life an immense void? I sat, and pondered, and remembered her, missing her, missing her, hurting. The club owner was hurt into his soul, “pero yo, ya no me quedaba ni madre de mi alma. ” I had no soul left.

I contacted the ‘sicario‘ and canceled the contract, it cost me $300 dollars – $100 to fulfill the original contract, and $200, for the cancellation. I sent an email to the Estrella telling her I had made, then canceled a contract to cut-off PP´s penis. I told her again she was a ‘puta,’ that I loved her.

I received another email from the Estrella, she thanked me profusely for not harming PP, and she said she was really excited to see me again, I was crazy but, “Me tocaste a mi corazón” (you have touched my heart.) The Estrella melted me, she was so different from María, half as pretty but twice as intelligent – what could such a special woman want with a physical and mental cripple like me?

She said she had watched all the videos of María on the club DVDs, and sent me the disk numbers and filenames of two videos she thought I’d want to see. I got out my laptop, and watched the first video – it was taken inside the women’s dressing room at the dance club. It was the video of the black man fucking María in a toilet stall.

The video starts when María enters the dressing room, naked except for high heels, pulling the black man behind her. They go to a stall, and the man goes in, closes the door, and undresses quickly, draping his suit across the side walls of the stall. Then María goes in and disappears from the camera. Suddenly, her upper body appears, as if she had climbed up on the toilet fixture. She turns to face the black man, her breasts visible, and the stall door closes completely. The video shows just the back of the neck and head of the black man next to the door. María’s face and shoulders are visible beyond and above his head.

María grabs the top of the door, leans into the man, presumably mounting his hips with her legs, and there are a few seconds of fidgeting and squirming while she settles her legs around his hips, and gets his penis inserted into her vagina. Now she is riding his hips, rhythmically bouncing as he fucks her. Her head bounces side-to-side, up-and-down, she quickly is moaning and crying out in the ecstasy of the moment, her face distorted by the pleasure flowing up her body. She has her hands around his neck and periodically buries her face in his hair, then she leans her upper body back, her breasts jiggling.

There is a surprising number of women milling around in the dressing room – I thought they were voyeurs, they had followed María in to watch. The expressions on their faces range from disgust to smiles and smirks to envy. The fucking goes on for several minutes, longer than I thought it would last given how excited they were in the backroom. I hear the black man ejaculate, then shortly thereafter, María reports her orgasm with a series of sharp moans. They embraced tightly for a few seconds, then she slides down his body and disappears.

María leaves the stall, carrying her heels in her hand, and puts them on while he dresses. When the black man comes out, María goes in and shuts the door. Seconds later, the black man reappears with María’s clothes and hands them over the door. María exits the stall, takes the black man by the hand, and exits the view of the camera.

I watched the video several times, upset at the first watchings. What most upset me was not she had fucked the black man, nor that she did it so publicly, but by her naked beauty, and especially by the anguished look on her face as she bounced on his penis. It revealed an intensity of pleasure and emotion I hadn’t seen elsewhere ever. I deeply regretted I had never fucked María like that, and I added another failure to my long list of failures with my slut wife. However, I began looking forward to seeing all the videos from the club.

The second video was of María’s encounter with the German guy, her first public fingering and humiliation of me that started our descent into the wild sex activities in the dance club. It was exactly as María had described to me, deep kissing followed by finger fucking.

But there was something new in this video. The video cut between two cameras – the view I always saw in person was of the backs of the men pawing at María. Now there was also a side view I had never seen, in which, while the German guy kissed María, she opened his pants and fondled his penis. It was María that had instigated the finger-fucking, not the German guy.

Later, watching the other videos, I saw María did this with many men. María often fondled the men’s penises from outside their pants, causing them to paw and finger her even more frantically. I had never seen this because María had their backs to me, but most of the back-room audience could see. Everyone in the club except me knew how directly María provoked these men. She was such a beautiful, total slut, I never had a chance.

* * *

I had three days before my encounter with the Estrella and her ‘pene‘, and four days before the Prof would come to claim me as his lover. The housemaid came by early, left some prepared food and money, and pretended to clean the house for 30 minutes, oddly distracted by my nakedness. She said she’d be back in five days, the same day as PP and María would arrive back from Rio de Janeiro. I wandered the little apartment aimlessly, fixed myself a couple of drinks, and sat to watch TV, wondering how I ended up here and afraid to confront my situation.

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 23 – Part 5, The Raging Inferno

This is chapter 23, part 5 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 23 – Part 5, The Raging Inferno

That night, the Estrella picked me up after the Prof had finished his bondage, sucking and fucking of me and went home to his wife. When we arrived at the club, I saw it still had the same owner, but of course, the owner didn’t recognize me after so many years and thousands of customers.

I asked him if he still had the videos from our epoch there, specifically, the video of a hot Guatemalan woman named María dancing nude with a black guy. He said yes, he had it and still played it from time-to-time; he looked at me closely. The video was stored on his entertainment computer as he had digitalized all the VHS tapes years ago. I unthinkingly led the Estrella to the same table María and I had always occupied.

The owner watched me as the video played, I think recognition returned, and when María appeared on the screen, he gave me a thumbs-up – he knew! Even in the darkened room through the poor quality of the security cameras, María’s distinctive body, dance, beauty, and sexuality were evident. I was again impressed by the style and ease by which the black man had disrobed María. I was flooded by memories and I couldn’t help but cry. I wandered into the back room and looked at the corner where María had encountered so many, many men – where she had been kissed, stroked, danced, undressed, finger-fucked, vulva-kissed, even penis-fucked once. There was now a table and chairs in that corner and I sat down alone. I saw a tiny plaque on the wall, inscribed with just her name – María, and I began to cry again. The video looped several times, and I finally calmed down enough to watch without crying. The video ended when she left the backroom nude, pulling the black man behind her. I was shocked to see my younger self standing in the doorway as she walked by.

The owner brought us free drinks, and patted my shoulder – I’m sure he thought María had died and the Estrella was our daughter. He told her,

“María was the best dancer I ever had, the sexiest, and the biggest … uh”

“Slut?” I offered.

“Well, yes, slut. I’m a rich man now with the most famous sex club in Central America, and I owe it all to María. She created the up-scale sex club market here. I’m rich now, but I still prefer those first years when you and María were here. Damn, we could tell some stories, couldn’t we? But I guess no daughter wants to hear the details of how slutty her mother was – sorry señorita.”

The Estrella was taken by the 5-to-6 minute segment of María’s dance, and she empathized quietly afterward, “I understand.”

I had the Estrella accompany me into the women’s dressing room – I looked around, somewhere in here, the black man had first fucked María. I wondered how many women had been fucked in this room by strangers; how many married women. I had the absurd and perverse thought the black man should have impregnated María that night. He would have given us a chocolate-skin curly-haired girl, as beautiful as she and he, a magnificent slut I would have been proud to raise, that would have broken my heart.

As we left the club, the owner ask if I’d like to have the video, I told him, no, but I was proud he still played it. He said it was special to him and he’d make me a copy of the video, I could come by any time the next day or after to pick up the DVD.

As an afterthought, I asked him,

“Whatever happened to José, the security manager back then?”

“José was María’s lover after you were kicked out of the club.”

He paused and watched my face,

“I guess you knew, he said you knew. Then years later, he was María’s lover in Antigua for a short while. He left her for a while and when he returned to Antigua to look for her, he was assaulted in her house. She wasn’t there, and some guy invited him in, knocked him out, and injured him badly. He returned to Argentina and I never saw him again.”

We went from the club back to the Estrella’s apartment, and the Estrella became my new confidante. We talked for hours into the night and I told her almost everything. She seemed to anticipate my story and would fill-in words when I got stuck – she could see into my soul. She peppered me with questions as I told her about: the salsa dancing; the finger-fucking, vulva kissing and nude dancing; the black man, his black penis in my mouth; the dozens of men fucking María so I could lick their semen from her vulva; the gang-rape and María’s pregnancy; her casual lovers; her black American lover at the apartments; her recent Mexican and Guatemalan lovers; PerfectPenis; the videos and my impotency; my conversion to bisexuality and my first attempt at castration; María’s American lover in Mexico; PP’s systematic destruction of my sense of self; my castration by PP and White Witch; my houseboy life, and PP’s selling of my body to men. And finally, the Prof.

I started to tell her about the snake show, but I decided to preface the story with a demo. We walked over to the snake box and I wiggled my middle finger in front of Hilda. Hilda struck, quickly advanced up the finger to dead-end on my hand. Then I removed her and spilled the story of the snake and bangles to the Estrella. It was the only event that shocked her.

When we were exhausted from words, she eyed me coldly and clinically, with certainty, “You want complete genital amputation, don’t you? I can do that for you”. She said it dispassionately as only a doctor could do. In my mind’s eye, I looked at my genitals and saw nothing, absolutely nothing there. I told her, yes, she might do it, but before I gave up my genitals to her, PP had the first claim.

And just genital amputation wasn’t enough – I wanted my genitals displayed hanging in a jar of crystal clear solution, broken penis, bangles and testicles in plain view in total detail. The jar should be on the trophy shelf of my master, labeled, ‘Genitalia of homo-sapien, Guy Ordinary, taken in battle for María by PerfectPenis.’ I wanted my genitals prominently displayed to the world, especially to María. I told the Estrella I found no shame, no dishonor in this. I had been bested, defeated by a better man, and since the prize was one of the most desirable women in the world, PP deserved to take my genitals. And to have me as a houseboy, a eunuch in his house, displaying my genitals and my naked castrated body to the wives and children of his friends. Even fucking my wife in front of me.

The Estrella responded, “You know you are quite demented.” I was shocked and outraged by the thought. Demented indeed – I was as rational and clear-headed as any other person!

But then I felt a slippage of my mind, my mind drifted off into a swirling kaleidoscope of thoughts and images. The events of my life began flowing down over me like a collapsing pyramid of sand. My follies and stupidities cascaded one against the others:

Each grain of sand was a droplet of another man’s semen I had licked from María’s vulva;

The first small horizontal ripples were those foreign penises thrusting into her vagina;

then ripples turned into rivulets, the stroke of strange penises sliding over her lips into her throat;

the rivulets became a wavelet, the gang-rape and impregnation of María provoked new wavelets;

and then, the first cascade, PerfectPenis’s boot crushing my genitals;

then multiple cascades, PP’s torture and abuse of my genitals, until my whole life devolved into an avalanche, the destruction of my penis and testicles;

my entire being reduced to … nothing. There was nothing left, nothing at all.

The entire pyramid of my existence built over three decades of marriage with María collapsed, leveled to a flat mound, smaller than my A-cup breasts, an indistinguishable mound of nothing. My mind rejoined my genitals inside the void.

I heard the Estrella calling to me, came back into the present and saw she was apprehensive, so I smiled and thanked her for hearing my sad story. I pushed her back on the couch, raised her skirt, and placed a single kiss on the small triangle of the tanga that covered her vulva. I led her to her bed, undressed her, then cleaned her vulva thoroughly before sucking her clitoris into the first of many orgasms. Between each orgasm, I licked her vulva clean of her fluids and returned to kiss her clitoris, over and over, drinking in the richness flowing from her vulva, wishing to submerge myself completely in her richness, until, satiated, she finally pushed my head away and said, “Ya no puedo más.” (Please stop. I’m exhausted.) She was asleep before the last word left her mouth, and I returned to her vulva for the last cleaning.

I thought about my history classes of decades past, about Isis, the great Egyptian Whore Goddess of mythology. I looked over the Estrella’s body, it was too angular, with the occasional birthmark or mole, her breasts were asymmetrical, she would never compare to María. I realized again María’s great beauty was a tyranny, it had blinded me to the smaller beauties of other women. I looked again at the Estrella, she was certainly ‘rica‘, but she was much more than that. I stroked my fingertips up and down her body, under her arms, behind her ears, between her legs; I kissed her nipples, her eyes, her vulva, the crease of her butt, her moles; I breathed deeply from her vulva, her underarms, her hair; I gave her my ‘cariño‘ of deepest affection, and I awarded her the highest praise my mind could conceive – I snuggled into her, enfolded her in my arms and legs as completely as I could, held her, embraced her, loved her unconditionally, and whispered my praise softly into her ear, “Puta” (Slut). For the first time in months, I fell into the deep, undisturbed slumber of a newborn baby, of a pure, innocent virgin, of a madman.

The next morning early, I awakened to the sound of the Estrella’s hair dryer. She had already showered for work and was brushing and drying her hair, nude before a mirror. I took over those duties, smoothing her hair with my hands as it dried, marveling at its softness, scent, color and shine; it shined so brightly. I stroked her face, her shoulders, her breasts, her whoreness flowed into me. She thanked me for the previous night, told me I had the perfect mouth, the best of any man.

I melted. I wanted to fuck her … I wanted my penis head to explore every fold and crease in her vagina … I wanted to fuck her… I wanted to feel the rejuvenating life of the Whore Goddess Isis flow from her vagina into my penis, throughout my body … I wanted desperately to fuck her.

And at that moment, the haze cleared from my mind and I finally recognized the horror, the magnitude of what PP had done to me in those few minutes of twisting my penis. PP had not only destroyed me to reclaim María, a legitimate victory, he had destroyed me for every woman in the world. I would never, ever fuck a woman again, not the Estrella, not the Sonsa, not Rosa, not the White Witch, not María, not one woman ever again, forever. That forever stretched out in front of me to unbearable infinity, and my mind slipped away again – I would deliver my genitals to PP in a jar; I would be a garbage collector of other men’s semen, cleaning the vulvae of beautiful women after the men did what I could not – fuck a woman; I would help the Prof to fulfill his fantasy to fuck me to death, a death I deserved.

I stroked the Estrella’s hair and cried. She watched me in the mirror and she commanded me, “¡Míreme a mí, míreme a mí!” (Look into me, look into me.) I saw my own face in the mirror, my eyes burned not with the brilliant light of love but the raging inferno of madness. I looked into her eyes, giant brown swirling whorepools, of Isis, and she pulled me deeply into her eyes, into her heart, back away from the abyss of my own mind.

We dressed and we headed in her car towards the Prof’s house. As she drove, she became colder, more clinical, less feminine, and she astutely observed if my genitals were removed as I had described, I would not have a stub of penis for urinating. She said if PP cut-off my genitals, I would bleed to death in a few minutes. We discussed the techniques she could use to leave a functional penis stub for urination while still maintaining the appearance of total removal of the genitals for display. I didn’t understand all the details, but I was satisfied – we agreed she would do the operation when I had accumulated the money for several days of hospital stay, she wouldn’t charge me for her work. And she would deliver my genitals properly packaged for the trophy display I envisioned. She asked me if María and PP would want such a macabre trophy in their house, and I thought María would not. I would deliver my genitals personally to PP at his office.

Then she argued I shouldn’t just leave a penis stub, I should have complete sex change operation, a realistic female vulva and vagina. The idea shocked, then excited me – I would become a woman! The longer I considered the idea, the better it sounded. The Estrella argued my desire for castration was probably the manifestation of a woman inside me trying to emerge, I was really a woman, a lesbian woman because I loved to kiss the vulvae of women. Her most compelling argument was that, with a vagina, I could submit my body to be fucked by PP, the ultimate surrender to his supremacy.

Her mention of PerfectPenis dampened my excitement – what would PP want? He wanted to destroy me sexually, to remove sexual pleasure from my existence. I decided that, no, I would do what he wanted at least for the moment. I would have just a penis stub.

She also said we could have sex outside the university ‘sexual point’ process, but she would also need a good penis – she didn’t think I would object to threesomes. She joked she could assemble ‘one real man’ by combining my perfect mouth with another man’s adequate penis. She thought this threesome idea would be a good solution to satisfy her sexual needs while she studied without the complications of a serious relationship.

She dictated all her phone numbers and I keyed them into my cell phone. As we pulled up in front of the Prof’s place, she said she had worked the emergency room for over a year, she saw several penis and testicle mutilations every week. These were the favorite revenge of cuckolded husbands on their wives’ lovers. She looked away from me, out the side window and said in Guatemala City, she thought I could get PP’s penis delivered to me in a bag for about $50 dollars; I could get revenge. I looked for her face, she was turned away, she knew exactly what she was doing and saying – physician, ‘Primum non nocere’ (first, do no harm!)

The dark heavy Mayan male blood had emerged in this special woman. I leaned over and kissed her hair – she flinched. I breathed in the scent of her, kissed her hair again, and said, “te quiero mucho, Puta” (I love you, Slut). She jerked around to face me, eyes in narrow slits, face full of guilt and anger, and I commanded her, “¡Míreme a mí, míreme a mí! ” She looked at me for a moment, closed her eyes, and when she re-opened them, the doctor was gone, she was Female again, her eyes were giant brown swirling whorepools, of Isis. She said, “Yo tambien te quiero mucho, demente. ” (I love you too, madman), and I left the car.

After the Estrella dropped me off, I still had more than an hour before the arrival of the Prof, so I showered, picked a rose from the back yard, and put the rose and an unwrapped condom on a silver platter on a small table. Then I managed to suspend myself in the new position, anus at the ready before the Prof came in. He was so excited at this romantic gesture he tripped on his briefs trying to get his clothes off. He stepped up, mounted me, and fucked me in a frenzy, lasting just a couple of minutes before he ejaculated. He sat on the floor, thanked me profusely, and asked if I would become his live-in lover.

I thought about my access to the vulvae that he could supply, pondered the complete immorality of that system, and said yes, I’d be his lover as long as I had access to the ‘sexual points’. I told him I needed a week back in Antigua to pack and settle my affairs, and he cheerfully agreed. As he left for work, he was singing ‘Por Mujeres Como Tú.’ (For Women Like You.) I left that afternoon by bus to Antigua.

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.