'Madam, Me and It' - Part X - Its Story II

Its Story... as related by Madam - Part II

My client, having lost use of his testicles, was not heard from... a few weeks as best as I can remember. Then, as discussed, there came this need to bond. But the need was more then psychological. It seems the generous tribute offered, compensation for week after week of long double sessions, was not entirely his to give.

Yes, my client was both deviant and devious. A crook. A very successful crook for a while, embezzling many thousands. One can offer conjecture about his slip up. Would his ill gotten gains be discovered had he remained intact?

I am sure they’ve made you aware of potential emotional changes. And I shall forever wonder whether the loss of male self esteem led to diminished reasoning. Perhaps there came a need to be exposed... so to speak.

Well, if so, the need was transient, for he called here in desperation. To be succinct he was wanted by the authorities... still is wanted... and had no place to go. All those years of theft and no back up plan... no arrangements for going on the lam.

‘I have money,’ he cautiously whispered over the phone.

Well, that proved riveting... ‘lots of money’ he added... further piquing my interest.

So I invited him to stay, demanding that he must earn his keep... though I must say the satchel of cash he brought was impressive. Quite the thief. 

Well, obviously It cannot venture outside the home. And to assure his identity remained secret I forced him to agree to modifications. Not a very challenging decision for the neutered and the desperate. It had little choice... jail or my dominion. And with me holding his purloined cash, there was not much chance of hiring an accomplished attorney. Public defender’s are good at plea bargaining. It would serve much time but for my benevolence.

First thing, those useless gonads had to go. Though non functioning, they imbued a degree of male pride I deemed he should not have. An elastrator and a few days completed what my pulley and hoist had begun. Pitifully simple to remove.

Next I bought a tattoo machine. You’ve seen the results. I’m afraid I am not very skilled and probably should have begun learning the art somewhere other than his face and head. But so be it. And the tears... with the hormone imbalance It wept like a little girl... day after day. The verbal protests became annoying. So I had a doctor friend silence him... though It can still squeal like a little piglet.