Chapter 7

After the ceremony was completed, and the crowd had dispersed back into the mansion to work off the intense erotic tension generated by the elaborate rituals they had witness, the prisoner was slowly lowered the ground onto a stretcher, and toted to the recovery room. He may have been conscious, but the ordeal he had suffered had drained all resistance from his body, so restraints were unnecessary.

Dr. Orchimedes tended to his maimed scrotum. The experienced surgeon was surprised at how long the prisoner's drug-induced tumescence lasted. Even after he was all stitched up--a smooth, bruised patch of skin where his balls had once hung proudly--the man still had a thick meaty cock. Not stiff enough for penetration, but with a little more stimulation it might be able to produce a workable erection. The doctor toyed with the impressive phallus idly as he waited for the call from Pandora, considering what sorts of wonderful tortures lay in store for the sensitive, but reproductively useless, bit of male flesh.

Hours later, after most of the guests had dispersed; the doctor declared John fit enough to be presented to Pandora for assignment. Two burly consorts dragged the naked, wilted man by the arms from the recovery room to her private suite and launched him into the middle of her Persian carpet.

She was sitting behind her desk, naked, on the back of a similarly naked servant. John looked up from the floor, and could see the other man's naked form clearly below the open frame of the writing desk. His crotch was completely smooth, no cock, no balls. The man wore nothing but a blindfold.

On his back, he saw the now familiar sight of his tormentor's naked pussy. She sat with her legs spread, to give him the best view of that which he could never possess.

"Thank you for joining me." Her voice was sweet, caring almost. She stood and walked toward him. He could hardly roll over, much less carry out the drive he had to tackle her and choke the life out of her. He lay on his back and stared up at her, into her.

"You're not so different from the other men who have come through here, John. You think you are, but you are the same sort of scum we are all too familiar with here in the Sisterhood. There was a knock at the door. 'Come in," she called.

"Mark, good to see you again. I have to compliment you on your appetizer tonight. What don't you come join me here? Let John see how devoted you are to the Sisterhood. Let him see what a devoted servant is willing to do to impress us."

The servant was naked as he straddled the prone form of the exhausted prisoner. John didn't know it but the servants only wore their leather "humility" straps in the presence of men and women who would otherwise be shocked to see the mangled male parts that hung between their legs.

"Mark is one of the lucky ones," Pandora explained as she reached between his legs. "We allowed him to keep his testicles intact, mostly because he in turn agreed to serve us unconditionally, and proved his devotion by cutting the head off of his own erection, sautéing it, and serving it to me as a symbol of his love for our severe discipline. It was delicious, and even more so when he whipped up a frappe of his tasty semen as a topping."

Mark squatted down and showed John his cock, or what was left of it. It was a stump, the charred end tinged with black. Mark seemed proud of it. "Did you enjoy the flavor?" he asked of the writhing prisoner. I sliced paper thing pieces off for that Carpaccio you had tonight, made a nice glaze with my cum. Then burnt the end in the frying pan to make it stop bleeding." He had a manic look, and John didn't react ... he was in shock at the idea of having eaten a portion of another man, willingly offered.