Author Archives: María

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.


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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.

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Chapter 23 – Part 4, Fuck Fodder

This is chapter 23, 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 23 – Part 4, Fuck Fodder

The Prof and I talked about his work and about the sexual exploitation of the students. He gave a long and interesting description of the medical training system at the university. As he stroked my anus gently, he described how the training system had become corrupted over time. Now, it supported the sexual desires of the teachers and resident doctors, the tenured staff, as much as it prepared new doctors.

Newly arriving students were discreetly sorted into four groups nicknamed estrellas (stars), mediocres (average), sonsos (dimwits) and mensos (ugly dimwits). The teaching assistants and junior doctors would evaluate the new students and classify them within the first semester. The sonsos and mensos would never graduate – but they would be given the opportunity to serve as fucking fodder for the tenured staff for as many years as they could pass the courses. This happened when these students realized they wouldn’t make it on their own, and begin to ask the staff for ‘sexual points’ added to their grades.

The difference between the sonsos and the mensos was the sonsos were attractive and had good sexual technique. The mensos were the unattractive students and those with poor sexual technique. The mensos seldom lasted for more than one year – once the staff lost sexual interest in them, they were flunked-out. The sonsos would be barely passed, earning just adequate grades through ‘sexual points’ to start the next semester. The sonsos could fuck their way into the residency internships and would be rejected at the last evaluation. The staff knew they’d never graduate, but they were kept going to serve the sexual wringer of the staff.

The mediocres could usually pass on their own effort, but they could improve their scores by ‘sexual points’. The estrellas were the brilliant students. They would easily pass, but they often participated in sexual favors because they competed for top honors.

This system did have some rules:

* The staff could never initiate the first sexual contact, not even with suggestive remarks. The decision to have sex with the staff had to be 100% initiated by the students.

* The staff maintained total discretion, the students could never know which other students participated in the ‘points’.

* The staff for the first year students sexually educated the students that chose to ask for ‘sexual points’. Sexual technique education was as important as medical education. Disease and pregnancy prevention were emphasized at this point.

* Once a student started sexual favors, he or she became open game for the rest of the staff for the duration of the student’s studies. It was OK for other staff to approach the student and suggest they could help them improve their chances. But no student was ever pressured into sex.

* Points added to the grades for sonsos and mensos could only help them get to the minimal passing score, no more. Grades were upgraded in the parts of the material that were most subjective.

* No incompetent student would ever be allowed to pass the final internship, however attractive or however polished their sexual technique. All sonsos and mensos must be flunked by the last year of the internship.

The entire administrative system of the university medical department was corrupted to support this sexual abuse of the students. Even the HR department would discourage the students from complaining, and complaints were useless because the students had always initiated the first sexual contact and agreed to subsequent contacts.

In recent years, the proportion of women to men students was overwhelmingly women, about 60%. Therefore most sexual activity was with the women students. Most of the staff was still male, but women were starting to move into positions of authority, and these women also participated in the ‘sexual points’ system. Some of these women also desired women students. Very few men asked for ‘sexual points’ from male staff; the ones that did were often homosexuals.

I asked the Prof. who would be the students that would come to see me. He had selected the first, a sonsa female. I got excited.

The next morning, the Prof came early as usual, and after he gave me the customary quick fuck, I left with him and he dropped me at the lawyer’s office. I had already dictated the divorce terms to the lawyer, so I walked in and signed, then took a taxi back to the Prof’s house. The first ‘sexual point’ girl was waiting for me at the front door.

The sonsa was very attractive, lithe, apprehensive, but sharp. As we talked about what she would see of me when I removed my clothes and why I was deformed, I realized how intelligent she was. She was easily as intelligent as me, and I considered myself to be very intelligent. That’s when I realized how difficult the medical program at the university must be. I thought how unfair it was the dreams and aspirations of these sharp, super, attractive girls were corrupted and used against them. They were destined to be fuck fodder for a few years, then dumped.

Seeing my crooked penis unnerved her, but she relaxed when she realized my deformity would not enter her body. We had an intense session together, she loved the idea I cleaned her vulva with my tongue before and after her climaxes, and she climaxed nicely with just my lips and tongue doing all the work. The fragrance of her vulva reminded me of María, not the same exactly, but nice. She hesitated to kiss and suck my A-cup breasts initially, but warmed up and did nicely once I re-warmed her vulva by fingering. She thanked me when she left and said the thought of that old Prof touching her was repugnant but she needed the points.

The Prof returned at siesta time full of energy and carrying web printouts of bondage scenes and instructions. We tried a couple but actually spent far more time trying to figure out the logistics and tying and untying than we did on actual sex. The bondage stuff excited him and kept his penis erect while he tried to bind me to match the photos. We ran out of time and we barely managed an adequate penis suck before he headed back to school. After his classes, he popped in for a missionary-style anus fuck, and he left for the evening with the life-is-great look spread across his face. We decided to move the bondage activities to the evenings when we would have more time.

This became our new routine. He came in the morning before school for a quickie anus-fuck. Lunch time was for extended suck and fuck, and the late afternoons were mostly dedicated to trying out new bondage positions. As before, most of these were largely impractical. Tying me into these grotesque positions took much more time than the fucking or sucking that followed, and often didn’t satisfy him into an ejaculation.

We made a breakthrough when we started looking at women’s bondage sites instead of the male sites. The women’s positions were much more practical and had the advantage of emphasizing breasts. We discovered one effective position on a women’s site, where my legs would be suspended widely separated vertical to the ceiling, my body at 80 degrees to my legs, and I had my arms free to control the back-and-forth motion of my swing. The Prof. simply inserted his penis into my anus, and I did all the work, a slow buildup to his intense ejaculation.

I found several websites of sailor’s knots, and I began to build pre-formed harnesses for the best bondage positions we developed. It became much faster to slip on the harnesses, hang at the proper position and height, get fucked or suck him, and slip out of the harness, ready for the next position. These harnesses had the extra advantage they weren’t tight. They were more comfortable, and looked sexier as well since I adorned them once they were built.

The harnesses were practical for the Prof but not satisfying. He wanted to tie me personally from unbound to completely immobile, but it was slow and tedious. However, the texture of the rope on my skin was reassuring and the smell of hemp arousing. I heard the slow intake of his breath as the ropes slid over my skin. His face flushed as he made the final cinches.

So we alternated between pre-made harnesses and personal tie-ups. The Prof was pleased overall, he thought he got his considerable money’s worth of my body. And I felt less-and-less like a cheap prostitute.

The next day, my fuck-fodder was another girl – the Estrella stunned me by her intelligence and attractiveness. She immediately grasped my physical and mental condition and was unfazed. She had seen every possible physical and mental injury in the emergency rooms of the hospital, and she was jaded and clinical about the human condition. She examined my breasts, my penis, my fake testicles and the bangles, and we discussed the options for rebuilding the penis. The broken sections could be repaired so I looked normal, but I’d never have an erection. She was so smart she had to simplify her medical explanations so I could understand. She knew she wasn’t going to be fucked by me, so she relaxed and was perfectly willing to have my face buried in her vulva. She said she hadn’t had a decent orgasm in more than a year, the men around her were pigs, and her schedule was impossible.

The words ‘man’ and ‘boy’ didn’t exist in her vocabulary; she referred to all males as ‘penes‘ (penises), commenting the occasional loan of their pene was the only thing males were useful for. When I explained briefly my story with María, she asked at which club we danced, and she squealed when I gave her the name – it was her favorite hangout. The salsa club was now a very upscale, sophisticated hot-spot that still featured backroom sex activities. She promised to take me there the next evening, her one evening off per week.

When I put my tongue to her vulva, she dropped all pretense of toughness and let me clean her at my pace. But when I started stimulating her clitoris, she held my head, directed my lips and tongue, and told me where and what to do in micrometer measurements. Her orgasm flooded my mouth with her fluids, it was heaven to clean her again. On a hunch, I asked the Estrella to look at my pills for testosterone replacement, and she promptly identified them as estrogen! PP’s perfidy had no limits – my A-cup breasts and body feminization were just another of his intentional degradation tactics.

The Estrella was ghastly intelligent, but some quality in her penetrated me. She left a hook in me and I was anxious to see her again.

When the Prof arrived that evening, I realized all was not well in our paradise – the Prof seemed frustrated, incomplete. He wanted more from the bondage – humiliation of me wasn’t enough, maybe because I enjoyed it. No, he wanted control, to degrade me against my will, to debase me psychologically into true submission. He tied my hands and feet and ordered me through some drills he had read about in a Dom’s manual. I told him I thought it was infantile to have him leash my neck, or crawl to kiss his feet. He wanted to have power over me, but it was the opposite situation – he wanted me more than I wanted him.

The following morning, I opened the door to see the next vulva the Prof. had chosen for me, and it was a man, probably a menso. He had fine feminine features that made him look quite young. He would be popular with the homosexual staff. The Prof had asked me about the previous female students at the end of each day, and he was likely disquieted by my enjoyment of the women. No doubt he sent this guy, wanting to speed my conversion from bisexual to full homosexual as soon as possible. “Why not?” I thought, this is likely my new life, and I made every sincere and unreserved attempt at male-to-male sex. I cleared my mind of female anatomy, tastes and smells, and the sex was actually quite pleasurable. From his mannerisms and talk, I was sure this menso was homosexual and didn’t know it yet. I asked him if he was homosexual, and he became upset, protesting he and his ‘novia’ (girlfriend) would be getting married as soon as he started his internship.

I decided to see if I could convert him over – he would be a prize to the Prof. I drove him to ecstasy, kissing, licking, sucking his testicles and penis. He whooped and gasped and walloped as I teased him towards climax, begging me for his finale – his ejaculation yielded young, fresh, delicious semen I savored in my mouth before swallowing.

I explained my preference for slow, exploratory anus fucking and he did me quite well considering he thought the entire idea of anus-fucking was disgusting. However, he became excited as he anus-fucked me, I felt his penis enlarging, but he was trying not to ejaculate. I began to coax him – I told him to pretend his girlfriend was fucking him, to imagine the feeling of her hard penis stroking inside his anus. That contradictory thought put him over the edge and he exploded again into my anus.

The Prof had made knowledge of his bondage room off-limits, so we used belts, strips of cloth and plastic, and whatever we found at hand to tie my upper arms together behind my back and tie around my A-cup breasts. The menso excelled at kissing and sucking my breasts and nipples, perhaps imagining I was his girlfriend. I felt the pressure building in my groin for an ejaculation, but it never came. Kissing his body was fine, purged of female thoughts, I enjoyed it, but when we started deep mouth kissing, I had to think of María’s mouth to make it bearable. Having sex with this fine young feminized man was much better than with the Prof. I saw that, given enough time and deprived of female touch, I could be converted to homosexual.

Maybe the boy was a menso, but he was smart enough to know at this point he was homosexual. We sat together on the bed for awhile and he anguished over what he’d tell his girlfriend, his friends, and family. He was so despondent I hugged him and stroked his hair – and soon we were kissing again, and fondling and caressing bodies and genitals. As I sticky-licked his penis head, his own tongue mimicked mine, and he cried as he anus-fucked me again. This was the closest I had ever come to making love to a man.

In the afternoon, I told the Prof about the conversion of the menso, and he became excited, so excited I realized I needed to be careful. If the Prof made one of these young men his permanent lover, why would he want me? I decided I needed to become more romantic and develop the bondage concept more for the Prof. I needed the money and access to vulvae the Prof provided. Even if the Prof had access to these young men, I could still help him seduce and convert them. I would become the expert on converting men to homosexuality, even straight men, I thought arrogantly, and an expert at bondage – the Prof would still keep me.

End of book content.


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

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

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

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

Chapter 23 – Part 3, The Swinging Fuck/Suck

This is chapter 23, 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 23 – Part 3, The Swinging Fuck/Suck

I needed to get back to Guatemala City as soon as I settled in the new apartment. I had to see my lawyer to get the writ of divorce. That would be easy: two days to write it, I’d send it to María for signing, and we’d bribe a judge to approve it immediately.

I also wanted to earn some quick cash. I emailed the medical Prof, and said I’d accept his offer. He immediately responded, full of enthusiasm and big plans for my visit. He had done extensive research on male bondage, and he sent me dozens of web links where I could see how I’d be tied-up and fucked. Some of the positions were outrageous, others interesting.

One of the positions showed a guy tightly bound, arms and legs, in a straight position, suspended horizontally from the ceiling, his partner rocked him back and forth a few inches while the bound guy slid his mouth over the other’s penis. I knew I’d have to kiss him and kiss his body, activities that were still repugnant, but I could bear it for the sum of money he offered – I was a prostitute. I replied with acceptance, same rules, and told him I’d be ready to pickup in a week. The Prof responded immediately again, pleased I hadn’t tried to renegotiate either money or activities. Maybe he thought I was crossing over completely.

He made me a better offer – I would stay permanently in his second house and be his submissive lover. I wouldn’t have to work or do anything other than suck and fuck him as he wished, bound up as he wanted. The Prof was an older guy (like me), not attractive (like me), and he offered a generous weekly payment, clothes budget, use of a car, etc.

I thought seriously about the situation for a while, wondering if male companionship could ever replace female companionship for me. It would be just sex, probably never affection on my side. Could the pleasure of male sex replace the desire for female affection? Would I be able to get used to that? Could I be an old queer? I remembered something María said to me many years back, she wanted a penis inside her, mouth or vagina, every day, that was her addiction. I remembered the Prof told me at the previous visit his students often offered him sex for grades, more often the girls than boys, and a little light bulb went off in my head. I had fantasies of fresh, tender vulvae and vaginae, one per day, and fresh, rock-solid penises.

I replied back we would start with the five days already agreed. If at the end of five days, everything went well, we would take a shot at being lovers. I suggested it would convenient if some of his students, boys and girls, came to participate. He replied with greater enthusiasm that student partners would be no problem. And if we became permanent lovers, he would come out of the closet, divorce his wife, and we would go to Mexico City to get married. I simply replied, “See you in seven days.” I now had a viable option for a future life, one that required no changes to my body. I was pleased.

I moved to the new apartment three days later, taking my few belongings, and some tools and supplies from the hobby room. I also brought the box with the snakes. I noticed the apartment had ‘smoke detectors’ in each room and an intercom. I never saw the main house again. I had my own separate entrance on a different street, and I started taking walks out in the country away from the town people. Stories about me had proliferated in the town, and I would be hounded if I went into the town.

Four days later, the Prof. came to get me in the afternoon. I carried only a small bag of clothes and my laptop. I left the zip-lock bag with María’s panty – it was sacred and could never touch that profane queer’s house. He was so excited to see me, and it did feel good to have someone that really seemed to like me, even if it was an old, leftist, closet homosexual. Once in the car, he asked me to open my zipper, he inserted his hand and found my bangles and testicles. He fondled me all the way to Guatemala City, and when we arrived, he took me to his newly installed bondage room. He had installed a system of rails across the ceiling, rings and hooks around the walls, and new ropes, cords, and chains stacked on a table. A large round bed dominated the room center, and there was a variety of other paraphernalia scattered around. It looked more like a chamber for an inquisition than a sexual playground. He installed all this since my last visit, and everything was unused.

Already installed in the room were three slings in-line at the height of his hips – the swinging penis suck position. He wanted to try it immediately, and I looked at it with engineer’s eyes. I told him I doubted it would work, but I undressed and climbed unbound into the slings with difficulty. I positioned my arms and legs as they would be when bound. The Prof stood in front of me, grabbed my head, and tried to swing me back and forth. As I suspected, it didn’t work. My weight and inertia were too great and my body swung where it wanted, not where he intended. Furthermore, my head was in the wrong position, my head was tilted back in an impossible position to maintain for more than a few seconds.

The Prof declined my suggestion that he sit, so I suggested several changes: my body would hang at an angle, my feet almost touching the floor with my head at his penis level. We would relocate the slings close to the wall, where I could use my feet to propel my forward motion; gravity and the hanging angle would bring me back. We made the adjustments, tried it out, and adjusted again several times. The Prof removed his clothes and we made a trial run – it would work!

The next problem was tying me up. If tied on the bed, I could never get into the slings – the Internet illustration of the position was bogus. So I had to lay in the slings and he bound me there. As expected, he tied me to protrude my breasts. He left my bangles and testicles hanging to swing freely and tied my penis up against my body. I was totally immobile except for my feet.

I started to swing back and forth, pushing with my feet. He stood in front of me with a decent erection, and I managed to capture his penis in my mouth. On the outward swing, my face bumped his abdomen, and I reduced the length of the swing so I wouldn’t lose his penis on the return swing. He guided my head, and I slid his penis in and out of my mouth, tonguing and sucking as I went. He got hard quickly. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensation of his penis sliding in my mouth. I imagined it was PP’s penis, I became aroused and I begin to suck him seriously. It worked, his penis engorged and began to pulsate. He grabbed my head, wanting to plunge his penis deep into my mouth for the ejaculation, and of course, my inertia pulled him with me as I swung. His body rocked back and forth for a moment and I stopped pushing with my feet He stayed deep in my mouth and ejaculated.

I tasted the semen in the back of my mouth and for some bizarre reason, I remembered María’s warning that sucking penis would be dangerous for me. She knew I’d like it too much, just as she did, and at this moment, I did like it very much, I loved it. I loved the taste and texture of the semen, I loved my A-cup breasts sticking out, I loved being naked, tied and immobile, I loved my fake testicles swinging below me. I loved the potential of my new life.

The Prof was shaken by the intensity of his climax, and he sat in the chair and watched me swinging gently in the sling. He wanted to fuck me, so he began to untie me. Half an hour or so later, I was laying on the bed, tied in a new position, my anus exposed waiting for his penis. I told him to fuck me slowly, to explore my groin, to make it last, and to talk to me as he stroked me. He still hadn’t tried to kiss me, so all was well up to that point. He lay down behind me, penetrated my anus, and we started to talk. His penis was smaller than PP’s, so I never got that fullness feeling I had with PP.

The first question I asked him was, “Why me?” He was totally candid – he loved my breasts, my bangles and hanging testicles, they were exotic. More importantly, his father had been ‘disappeared’ in the 1954 CIA overthrow of Guatemala’s leftist government. His father’s body was later found rotting in an open sewer at the bottom of a ravine, identifiable only by an inscription on the back of a crushed watch. The Prof hated Americans. He wanted to humiliate me and degrade me sexually. He would get a lot of points with his colleagues for having an American eunuch as his lover. He dreamed he’d be able to fuck me to death literally but thought that was just a fantasy. He was pleased a fellow Guatemalan had destroyed me sexually, stolen my wife, one of the outstandingly beautiful women in the country, and prostituted me. I was light skin, he was dark. He prattled through a long list of trivial (to me) reasons, none of which changed my mind about being there.

Then I asked him about my broken penis, I would never be able to fuck his anus or mouth. “Why me?” His answer was crisp and direct. He had hemorrhoids. He might suck my flaccid penis occasionally – the Prof was the only man to suck my penis at the parties, and I rewarded him with a feeble ejaculation. Maybe he liked the taste. He was otherwise indifferent to my crooked penis but thought together with my bangle’d testicles, it made an interesting decoration. I momentarily flashed on the image of my genitals stuffed and mounted on his wall, and wondered if that’s what he meant!

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 2, Last Taste of María

This is chapter 23, 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 23 – Part 2, Last Taste of María

The next day before PP returned late to the house, María came to see me in the hobby room. She was dressed up, in street clothes, stunningly beautiful and sexy. She sat on the couch, her skirt modestly below her knees, and I sat nude on the floor in front of her. She said they were going on a trip that evening for two weeks, to Rio de Janeiro, their celebration of a new life together. I would be moved on Monday to the new apartment that was physically isolated from the house. I would have my own patio, entrance on a side street, and the housemaid would come by twice a week to clean and leave food and money. María would never be allowed to communicate or see me again.

María said that PP had shown her the videos he made of sex with her, and the video of my initial castration. I expected a grimace when she said that and was surprised to see her expression of wry pleasure. I think she understood I accepted the castration to please her.

I began to cry. I told her of my loneliness, my desperation, and María said she had seen me fondling and feeding my penis to the snake. She had this strange look on her face, in her eyes, and the start of teardrops in her eyes. It wasn’t the look of pity, nor disgust, nor love, nor hate, nor …, it was regret, unrecoverable regret, the look of a great opportunity lost which would and could never return. The regret of many years of marriage and companionship now finished. Of adventures and experiences shared, of wild sexual abandon, of a son raised together, of all my indecisions, inadequacies, and failures to act, failures to channel her sexual energy to my benefit. I remembered something I cynically told a friend once back in the USA, “At the end of your life, you are just the sum total of all your bad decisions.” Now I sat naked, ridiculous, and broken in front of her, at the end of our relationship, the sum total of all my bad decisions.

I begged her for a touch, a kiss, to which she said simply, “Yes.” I sprang off the floor, straddled her body pushing her back against the couch and kissed her, first superficially, then open mouth, then deeply. She responded, not with passion, she didn’t love me anymore, but with the automatic familiarity of three decades years of life together. It was enough. After a few minutes, I climbed down to sit again on the floor. I must have been radiant – I was so happy for that female touch from my beautiful, sensual wife, María.

Clambering over her, I pulled her skirt up to mid-thigh, and I saw her legs were as beautiful as ever. She grabbed the hem, pulled the skirt down towards her knees, and simultaneously raised the skirt for a long instant – the INVITATION! I saw her pale blue, open-mesh panty and the outer lips of her closed vulva through the lace. I grabbed her legs, pulled her out to the edge of the couch, opened her legs and embedded my face in her panty. I was overcome by the scent of her and I breathed deeply for a few moments, her scent evoking years and years of memories, of fucking her, of licking and sucking her vulva, clitoris, and vagina, of watching other men ravish her, of salsa ‘dances’, of Larry discovering her innermost secrets and leaving her pregnant, of the perfect penis firmly filling her vagina.

I leaned back, grasped her panty on both sides, and pulled it off as she lifted her body, and I dropped it on the floor. PP’s name tattooed above her vulva again warned me he had marked her permanently against the claims of all other men, yet here I was once more.

I began to lick her vulva, cleaning it from bottom to top. As I inserted my tongue into her vagina, she knew what was coming and she became aroused, her natural lubrication began to flow out where I licked it up. I started tonguing and sucking on her clitoris, which engorged and she began the rhythmic rocking of her pelvis. Her orgasm came much sooner than I expected, and when she stopped shaking, I cleaned her vulva again with my tongue. When I finally sit back on the floor, she remained as she was, legs open, skirt thrown up on her body. She looked at me, a ridiculous spectacle, A-cup breasts, golden bangles over fake testicles, broken penis, naked on the floor at her feet. I, in return, only looked at her vulva, with the same adoration I felt many years ago when she lay exposed on a couch before I gang-raped her – the most beautiful genitalia that had ever existed. She had the perfect vulva.

And at that moment, my perspective shifted drastically once again – the PerfectPenis and the PerfectVulva were joined together. PerfectPenis had destroyed me to claim his birthright, his exact complement among all the women in the world. She had always belonged to him, and I was free to see what I should have known when I first saw the videos of them together.

I let her go …

I let her go.

I acknowledged she had never been mine even though I desired her fiercely. Legally, she was still my wife, my beautiful, sensual wife María, but I would give her an uncontested divorce immediately. And I flushed with gratitude to María and PerfectPenis for the many years of extraordinary adventure and happiness that I, an ordinary guy, was granted at her side.

I wondered what would become of me. No man, much less an ordinary guy, ever gets a chance for two Marías in a lifetime. She ruined me for any other woman, what would become of me.

I heard a car door shut outside, the house door opened, then PP calling to María. She didn’t answer, and moments later, PP appeared in the doorway of the hobby room. María had not closed her legs nor lowered her skirt and PP saw her panty on the floor. The shock on his face was replaced by anger, then by rage. His slut, still my beautiful wife, had betrayed him.

I wanted him to hit me, to beat me, to stomp my genitals, to show her he would be the sole owner of her sexuality, but he just stood there shaking with rage. I remembered the German guy in the club so many years ago, and I provoked him more – I picked up her panty, held it to my face, and breathed in her fragrance deeply. All he had to do was hit or kick me, I was defenseless on the floor. But he just stood there, looking more at me than at María. I swiveled my body to face him, laid back on the floor, opened and raised my legs to him, an unconditional surrender, my genitals exposed to his attack. I spoke boldly, “Termíneme, aplásteme, máteme, tú la has ganado, llévesela.” (finish what you started, crush me, kill me, you have won her, take her).

PP charged at me, glanced at María, and came-up short. He turned to María and extended his hand. She took his hand, he pulled her from the couch, and they walked from the room, embraced. I wondered if he made the same mistake I made those many years ago. I also wondered who won over whom – his affection for her was unmistakable, and maybe she would break him also. Yes, she would break him. He was old-school traditional and she was free, he wouldn’t be able to control her.

I heard the doors lock behind them and I knew I’d never see either of them again. I felt blessed by her company for so many years, and that I had played a small part in reuniting the PerfectPenis with the PerfectVulva. I picked up her panty again, held it to my face for a moment, then sealed the panty inside two zip-lock bags to preserve her scent and taste. It was not a trophy, but a fragment of María I could use on special occasions to remind me of the beauty of women, of her. I wandered around the room aimlessly, reflecting on my past and future, and finally started sorting and packing my few belongings in a box to distract me.

Then I sat down at my laptop and started assembling this story. I wrote and organized in a continuous frenzy. It was easy, I simply ordered all the fragments of the story of my life with María, not the entire lifetime, only the significant events that changed my life. I added thoughts and emotions. Her sensuality and sexuality had broken me since she gave me that first INVITATION decades ago, and I consistently failed to channel her passion for life and for sex. On my watch, she fucked dozens and dozens of men, many in front of my own eyes, and she bore another man’s son. Now, I had lost her and had been sexually destroyed for my failures, yet I still felt redeemed at this moment. And I was proud that I had unequivocally pleased María.

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 1, The Prof’s Prostitute

This is chapter 23, 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 23 – Part 1, The Prof’s Prostitute

After the conversation with María, concerned PP might indeed arrange for my death, I thought about how to protect my property for my son when PP succeeded. I wasn’t alarmed about dying really, I knew it would happen because PP wanted it.

I found the cell phone of the professor and called him – his excitement at my call zinged through the wires. He suggested a try-out period of five days in his second house in Guatemala City and I gave him what I thought was an exorbitant price. He asked me what he’d get for that price, and we began to negotiate: as many mouth- and anus-fucks as he wanted in whatever position he wanted, as many penis sucks as he wanted, deep mouth kissing, nipple sucking, body kissing and licking, reasonable S&M such as bondage, spanking and belting, unlimited photos and videos, condoms for anal penetration. I needed quick money and wanted to get out of PP’s house, so I agreed. And anus reaming – his anus! I absolutely refused the last, and we negotiated money again. Finally, two snake shows for his friends, for an additional cost.

The next day, I left a note for PP, the maid let me out, and the professor came for me. I collected the money up-front and left half of it at PP’s house, my first experience at willful prostitution. I thought about what I had charged him for five days, and realized I was a very cheap prostitute.

The Prof was tall, thin and light-skinned for a Guatemalan with distinguished salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He dressed well, drove a new car, and nothing in his demeanor gave him away as a homosexual. He drove me first to the medical school campus. He seemed to want to impress me, proudly touring me around the campus. In his well-appointed private office, he dropped his pants, and I gave him the first of many quickie penis sucks.

In the medical library, I was overwhelmed by the number of female students, many were stunningly guapa (pretty), including the indigenous girls. Most were dressed in white med smocks, but many wore skin-tight pants or short skirts. The indigenous girls wore traditional colorful hand-woven wrap-around skirts with modern blouses embroidered with indigenous motifs. Most of the ladina girls looked worried and stressed, but the indigenous girls bore a serene appearance.

As we walked through the stacks and study rooms, passing the occasional male student, the Prof confided smugly to me he had tried out this one… that one… that one at the desk… My raised eyebrows elicited his matter-of-fact comment, “sex for grades.” Some of the male students were shocked to see me – they were the ones that had their penises in my anus or mouth at the parties. All the students regarded me with open curiosity – an old gringo, probably the one they’d heard rumors about.

The Prof drove me back to his apartment, I undressed – I was to be nude always in his house. We had our first session, he started by trying to kiss me, and I turned away my head. He said that was part of what he was paying for, he pulled my head around and started deep kissing me. I felt sick to my stomach, but responded as best I could without gagging. He taught me how to kiss him and I did it. He stripped, had me kiss and lick his body down to his crotch, stopping to do lots of mutual nipple sucking along the way, and I spent time rolling his testicles around in my mouth. Finally, I sucked his penis, tongued his penis head, and he mouth-fucked me until he ejaculated. I sucked out his sperm to the last drop, the only part of the activity I really enjoyed. He had me kiss and lick his flaccid genitals while he recovered his erection.

While doing this, I reflected on why I could lick and suck a penis and testicles, or get anus-fucked casually, even enjoying it immensely with PP, but why body licking, nipple sucking, or any other activity on another man, especially mouth kissing, turned my stomach. I thought about doing these same activities with PP and decided I wouldn’t like that either, but I’d do it, and for free, if he ever wanted it. While I fucked the Prof, I had only images of the pretty girls from the medical library in mind, and it was these girls I imagined I fucked. I began to question my homosexual credentials, wondering if I was really homosexual, or if it was just PP’s penis power over me.

When the Prof regained his erection, he fucked me from behind, crudely, in a mad frenzy, and as he ejaculated, he grabbed my genitals and squeezed hard while he cursed me as a yanqui slut exploiting the Guatemalan homeland. He was exhausted and left to go home to his wife.

The following weekdays were a pattern of a quick fuck in the morning, extensive sex at siesta time and again in the early evening after his classes, and he went home in the evening. Besides what I’ve already described, there was some variation of bondage – he tied me to the bed legs to anus-fuck me or affix me in new fucking positions. He tied a cord around my fake testicles and hung them up as high as he could stretch them from a ceiling hook, he spanked and belted my butt until it burned red, he slapped my testicles around as they dangled beneath the gold bangles, and he took lots of photos and videos. He had two cameras on tripods, lights, and timers. We remade shots many times – his favorite photo was a contrived setting where he appeared to swing across the bed by holding my testicles with both hands!

None of these activities were part of why I was with him. When he went to the university each morning after the quick fuck, I dressed and went out, first to my lawyer, and dictated a new Will and Testament. I changed the beneficiary of all my property rights from María to our son. The same lawyer made a similar Will and Testament for my Mexican property. I took it by the Mexican consulate for authentication and over-nighted it to our Mexican lawyer. This process, all I needed to do, took three mornings, and I still had two days with the Prof.

Friday was a repeat of the sexual activities of the previous days, and Saturday, we sucked and fucked all day, interspersed with a snake show, filmed with some other male profs and students. He tried variations of bondage and fucking positions, most of them uncomfortable for me and impractical for fucking. We tried unsuccessfully to hang me horizontally from a ceiling beam so I could swing back-and-forth with my mouth sucking his penis. We decided we would need better slings to hold my body weight and he said he’d be prepared next time. He tied my upper arms together behind my back to protrude my A-cup breasts in front, tied ropes around and between my breasts, and licked and kissed them for half an hour. Within minutes through this trick, I was fully aroused and had a tiny erection in the unbroken base stub of my penis. This bondage stuff was growing on me!

The Prof was fascinated by my gold bangles and fake testicles; sometimes his hands would shake as he handled them. He tried many variations on tying them, stretching them, attaching them to objects, etc. He put a headband around my forehead, tied a cord around my testicles, passed the cord through my buttocks crack, and to the headband, pulling it tight which pulled back my head and arched my back. Then he sat and watched as I tired and tried to straighten my head and back, pulling against the testicles, then arching again to relieve the pressure on the testicles, a seesaw back and forth. I knew what he really wanted was to tear off my testicles, but he hadn’t paid me for that! He didn’t care my testicles were fake, and I protested with groans of fake pain when he abused them.

He liked most the ‘missionary’ position where I lay on my back, legs in the air, my crotch elevated with a pillow, and he stroked me while laying between my legs. He maintained this position for about an hour, delaying his orgasm, kissing my A-cup breasts or deep kissing my mouth while he calmed his orgasmic impulse. I liked this position and the nipple sucking of my A-cup breasts, but I hated the kissing.

While he ‘missionary’ fucked me, I got an idea about how I might end my life. I thought about it dispassionately, detached, as if it were just another casual activity like feeding my penis to the snake. I forced my hands beneath my body as best I could, and I asked him to choke me as he stroked me. He became excited by the idea, I could feel his penis grow larger and harder. I tilted my head so he could get a good grip. Being a doctor, he knew exactly where to squeeze, and he began to choke me while banging my anus harder. Of course, once I became short of breath, my survival instinct took over, I jerked my hands free and pulled his hands from my throat. He had almost ejaculated, and we lay there for a moment while he calmed down.

Then I asked him about a big artery in the neck I remembered went to the brain. He said it was the carotid artery that fed the blood to the brain. He said if he squeezed shut these arteries, I would simply black out without the choking reaction. I asked him if he shut the arteries for enough time if I would die, and he said yes. I immediately said let’s try it, without any thought at all I might die right then and there while being fucked by this pervert. He began to stroke me again, reached up and found the arteries, and squeezed them. I felt no impulse to remove his hands, and after a few seconds, I felt nothing at all.

When I returned to consciousness and my head cleared, he had ejaculated. I asked why he had dropped the grip on my neck. He said he lost the grip in the lunging of the ejaculation, the best climax he had ever experienced. He didn’t retake the grip because once he lost the orgasmic surge, he couldn’t think of any sane reason to be squeezing my neck. Furthermore, he didn’t know how to get rid of my body if I died. I had bruises on my neck, and he was sure he could never get away with snuffing me.

Sunday, I gave him a nice, freebie, thank-you fuck and suck in the morning. The thank-you was for the money, and for the smooth and mostly pleasant introduction into voluntary prostitution. Now, I could add ‘prostituto‘ to ‘puto, joto, perra y castrado‘, the list of adjectives to describe my perverted life. I wondered about taking female hormones to increase my breast size to a B-cup, but I’d need to wear a bra, too strange! I doubted PP would be interested in these new activities – he mainly touched me to mouth- or anus-fuck, and to fondle my genitals when he wanted to convince me to do something again against my interests.

The Prof drove me back to Antigua and we stopped to eat in a fancy bohemian restaurant] in San Lucas. The Prof was happy, chirping away about some new bondage positions he had seen on the Internet. Some of the positions sound intriguing, and I was tempted to accept his offer of another round, but I couldn’t get the distaste of the kissing out of my mind. Nor the images of the med-school girls.

When I arrived in Antigua, María was in the house alone, she came early to look through my stuff for indications of why I had disappeared. She wondered why Hilda was missing – PP had told her nothing. I told her I had been sucked and fucked to within an inch of my life, but I had modified my Wills in both countries. María was pleased about the latter, she wasn’t interested in grabbing my assets, and she hated the idea PP might take my life over property, even though she was obsessed and in love with him. I explained I had charged the Prof. a lot of money, now I was a prostitute. I told her about the choking and artery experiment. María was quiet. Perhaps she realized then I was willing to give up my life so she could be happy with PerfectPenis.

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.