Copyright © 2005 All Rights Reserved

Author can be contacted at maleslave@ya.com

This story might appear to be quite vanilla, and, indeed, to begin with it is simply about a wife swapping party. But like all my stories there's a twist at the end, and the twist in this one is decidedly Femdom. So have patience.

 End Game

‘I am not going to fuck in front of other people! You can forget that', Tracy pouted from the front seat of the car.

We were on our way to my first swinging party. This was something I'd been hoping to do for more than three years and I had finally persuaded Tracy to come with me. You could say I was excited, excited almost to the point of being terrified. I'd only been able to eat half the size of dinner I usually do, and I felt like I might throw it up at any moment. I was breathing a lot quicker than normal, so much so that talking for any length of time was a fight against breathlessness. And my mouth was so dry my words stuck to the roof. My whole being was on edge; every little thing irritated me: like Tracy's latest challenge, like the sweat in my groin that was making my balls feel tacky, like my shoes that seemed to be a little too tight. I was a mess. I wanted this party so badly, I wanted my fantasy of an orgy, but I was so wound up right now I knew I couldn't get it up right now. But I had to go on. But then it must be the same for everyone, mustn't it? I had to believe that I would eventually relax and be able to perform.

I'd been wanting to party ever since I'd read about such events in Forum magazine. The thought that there were parties where you could have access to many women and could swap partners, maybe several times in an evening, had been doing my head in for years. I'd researched the scene extensively and found out about parties organised on a commercial basis, with quite steep entrance fees. That would have been worth it, but as soon as I suggested it to my wife, she'd turned me down, made it clear she wasn't keen. She had some serious misconceptions about what happened at such functions. For three years I'd kept on, explaining how they work, putting the reasons why we should go, trying to persuade her, trying to convince her that it would be fun. Obviously, I hadn't been keen to buy tickets knowing she would probably not come with me. I kept on putting the positive side and she kept saying no, but every time with less conviction. Then I'd got an invitation to a private party with free entrance. It was too good to turn down. I knew she wasn't keen, but I was sure I could persuade Tracy if only I tried hard enough, and long enough. So one final huge effort and then she agreed, and here I was, in the car, Tracy beside me, and in just a few moments I would realise my dream.

Even now, Tracy wasn't as enthusiastic as I was, as you can tell from her language, but at least she'd agreed to accompany me. This was important because I couldn't go to the party on my own - like all such parties it was strictly couples only. She had liked the idea of the games and the flirting, and I think she even liked the idea of being able to choose some other man for a one-off. What she definitely hadn't been so keen on, was doing it in a room with lots of other people present, even if they were absorbed in the same activity. It seemed she didn't have an exhibitionist gene in her body. I had to keep her on-side, though. I couldn't let her back out. Not now. Yet she seemed to be back-pedalling. I stole a glance at her. She was sitting there with her arms aggressively folded - if folding your arms can be an act of aggression - and she looked like someone had just squeezed a nipple without permission. I had to reassure her, remind her of the attractive aspects of the enterprise, persuade her to keep her toys in the pram.

‘Of course not', I said, ‘you won't have to do anything you really don't want to. Look, I know you're a bit nervous about this party. We've neither of us been to one before so we don't really know what will happen, but I understand from Mike that, to begin with, we will be playing a few games, sexy games with the chance to flirt, but just games nevertheless, to get everyone in the mood. Nobody's going to ask you to put on a show of fucking, or anything like that.' I was running out of oxygen and paused to take a big breath, to let that sink in, and to prise my tongue from the roof of my mouth where it had stuck itself. I hoped she wouldn't take the opportunity to interrupt. ‘Mike says you can never be sure what will happen when the games are finished; some people may just want to talk or they may want to swap. Some may want to use the same room, so as to get turned on by watching the other couples at the same time as coupling themselves, but equally there are some who like privacy. It is a private house, after all. We can do exactly what we want. If at that point you don't want to do anything, we can just talk, or we can leave. If there's someone you fancy you can find a private room. There's absolutely no expectation or obligation for us to do anything, and nobody will worry if we choose to leave.' I had to stop again and catch my breath. I stole another glance at her as I was driving. She still had a face like sour cream. ‘Anyway,' I continued, ‘I thought we had agreed to see how it goes and to leave if we don't like the way it's going? I'm sure you'd enjoy it if you'd only gave it a chance.'

‘No! I didn't definitely agree to anything,' she replied a little too quickly for my liking. ‘OK, I thought it might be a bit of fun, but now I'm not so sure. I've read about these parties on the internet. Yes, I could be interested in having another man for a night, but I don't like the idea of people watching. Making love should be personal, between one man and one woman. I've read that at these parties you have to share rooms with other couples or at least let them watch from the doorway, if that's the way they get their rocks off.'

I was amused that she should use the phrase ‘making love,' for what she had acknowledged would be a one night stand, but I let that go. She didn't need any further aggravation. ‘Look, whatever you've read probably only applied to one particular party. Or maybe more than one. But as far as I can make out,' I said, and making out was definitely on my mind, ‘this party, the one we're going to, is completely private, and if you want to be private you can be. Nobody will force you to let others watch. So if you wanted to get together with one of the men, you could do that on your own, in your own room, with the door locked. And, if you don't want to take it that far on this occasion, that's fine too. We aren't under any pressure. We only have to do what we want to do. And the games sure sound like fun.'

I'd been having some drinks with my friend Mike one afternoon about two weeks earlier after a round of golf. Somehow he steered the conversation round to women and sex and I could see later, though not at the time, that he'd been sounding me out to gauge my attitude to what is commonly referred to as wife-swapping, or open marriages if you will. Well, if push came to shove, I'm bound to give the impression that I'd welcome some extra-curricular activities, aren't I? It's a man thing. Real men take what's on offer, if it's offered. They don't wimp out just because they're married. So I must have given the right answers because he invited me to a party ‘for uninhibited adults' that he and his wife hold each month at their house. I'd jumped at the chance. There was the small problem, however. Mike had made it clear that the invitation was for a couple. I was far from sure I could persuade Tracy in time for us to make use of the invitation.

I had started my campaign of gentle persuasion to develop in Tracy some, if not enthusiasm for, at least interest in the party, a campaign that had been decidedly uphill. I thought it had been successful, until now. I turned into a lay-by and stopped the car but kept the engine running. ‘Look, we're almost there now. Can we please call a truce and just go in with the intention of enjoying ourselves? Promise we'll leave if it just isn't our scene.' Half a smile dashed across her face and was gone in an instant, but it was half a smile more than I'd dared hope for.

I pulled up outside quite a large detached house about two miles outside the town in the rolling hills of Wiltshire. I guessed it used to be a farm house but that it had been sold off as a family house when it became necessary, in the seventies and eighties, for several farms to amalgamate into one to be economically viable. I didn't know, but it looked big enough to have five or six bedrooms. Or was I just being optimistic? There was a welcoming light in the porch. The door was opened by Mike, a middle-aged man wearing a grin and holding a gin. ‘Hello Derek', he said, ‘Come on in. Take your coats off - it's alright you can keep the rest of your clothes on for the moment, ho, ho - and chuck them in the study somewhere. You must be Tracy - I'm Mike, glad to meet you. Grab yourselves drinks from the kitchen then join the rest of us in the front room. You're the last to arrive so we'll be starting the fun and games fairly soon.'

Tracy and I found our way to the kitchen. I poured myself a very large gin and tonic. I was still nervous with a stomach like a butterfly nest and wondering how the evening would develop, but I knew the gin would help me relax in time. Tracy 's face now looked like cream that was beginning to curdle. She asked for a white wine.

‘Come on Trace, have something a bit stronger than that!' I said, trying to encourage her. ‘You're not really giving this party a proper chance if you don't have something to loosen up and get in the mood.'

Tracy settled for a sweet Martini and I poured a generous amount into a tumbler. I reckoned a cocktail glass wouldn't be enough to shake off her mood and I didn't imagine elegance of drinking receptacles was going to be crucial. Clasping our drinks, we moved in to the front room. There were about two dozen people standing around, talking and drinking, aged, I guessed, between mid twenties and late forties. I only knew Mike and his wife Helen. I assumed the others were couples but it was impossible to work out which were which, there seemed to be many men with their arms around two women and vice versa. This was looking very promising, I thought, if the guests were this friendly already. As yet I was still too anxious to introduce myself and my unaccustomed trepidation was making me even more alarmed, but before I could self-destruct in a pool of adrenaline, Mike called the party to order and announced the first game.

‘We're going to play Sex Shop so you'd all better get seated.'

Mike turned towards us and said, ‘We always play games to break the ice. It doesn't matter how well people know each other - and most of them are regulars - they always seem to be slightly inhibited at the start of an evening, but the games always get things moving. Don't worry if you don't know this game. You'll soon pick it up - it's very like another game which I'm sure you know, but I can't remember the name of.'

There weren't enough proper seats for everyone and we found ourselves on floor cushions next to each other. Tracy positioned herself close to me. I would have liked a little more space under the circumstances, a little more independence. I would have liked us to project an image of a couple that was cool about being apart, but right now she needed her insecurities to be dealt with so I played along. Some of the others were sitting on the coffee table and some of the women were on men's laps so I guessed it didn't matter too much at this stage.

‘Paula, you start us off please,' said Mike.

‘I went to a sex shop and bought a dildo,' said a woman in a far corner of the room who was, presumably, Paula.

The man next to her then repeated this statement before embellishing it. ‘I went to a sex shop and bought a dildo and a packet of strawberry flavoured condoms.' And so the game continued, each player adding more items to the list until it came round to me.

I was having some trouble remembering what everyone had bought but I gave it my best shot. ‘I went to a sex shop and bought a dildo, a packet of strawberry flavoured condoms, um, er, oh yes a nipple clamp, a pair of crotchless knickers, a bottle of Spanish Fly, an inflatable doll and, lets see, how about a pair of handcuffs.' It seemed I'd got it right because at this stage everyone looked at Tracy as it was her turn.

‘I went to a sex shop,' Tracy said hesitantly, ‘and bought a dildo, a packet of con... strawberry flavoured condoms, a nipple clamp, a pair of crotchless knickers, some Span... no a bottle of Spanish Fly, an inflatable doll, a pair of handcuffs aaannnnd a bottle of aspirins'.

‘CHALLENGE!', shouted the man next to Tracy .

‘What's the problem?' Tracy asked perplexed, giving him one of her affronted looks.

‘You must add something that you could expect to buy in a sex shop,' he explained. ‘You can't just pick anything. You wouldn't go to a sex shop to buy aspirins! I'm sorry but I believe that means you're out of the game and, since you are the first one out, you'll have to take a penalty.'

‘Well hold on, perhaps you might want the aspirins because your wife always gets headaches in bed', rejoined Tracy , not prepared to be intimidated.

This caused some amusement amongst the other guests and, after a short debate, it was agreed that Tracy 's justification was too good to merit a penalty, especially as the game had not been explained to us in advance. The man who had challenged Tracy, who we found out was called Jeff, gracefully accepted the penalty on her behalf. She looked more than a little grateful, I thought, and for the first time she began to look happy, almost as if she were enjoying herself.

‘He doesn't do a penalty immediately,' Mike explained to us. ‘I record penalties and prizes throughout the evening and we settle up later on when the games are finished.'

Tracy then started a new round. The game continued with one person being eliminated each round when they failed to correctly repeat the list of items, until only one person, the winner, was left in the game. She was awarded a prize which Mike simply wrote down on his score sheet.

‘Well unless anyone really wants to play that one again I think we'll move on to the next game.'

Mike paused and looked round the room to see if anyone really wanted a re-run of Sex Shop . I looked at Tracy . She seemed more relaxed and had moved slightly away from me. I didn't know when she had moved but she no longer looked like my Siamese twin. She kept stealing glances at Jeff, next to her, and he would smile back at her. I suppose he was good looking but I'm no judge. I got a sudden unexpected shock of jealousy, like a knife through my heart, when I saw him smiling. He clearly wasn't smiling at anything funny. I gulped some more G&T. When nobody spoke up for Sex Shop , Mike said, ‘OK lets play Get screwed . Who wants to go out the room first?'

Someone called Stewart volunteered and duly left the room. Mike looked at Tracy and me and said, ‘OK, this is quite simple really. We'll pick a word, in fact a verb to be precise, and Stewart has to guess the word after only 20 questions. He asks questions about the unknown word but he always substitutes the word ‘screw' for the unknown word. You'll soon see how it works.'

Then turning to the rest of the room, ‘Well what's the word?'

‘How about ‘study'?' said a woman who was on her own as was presumably Stewart's partner.

‘OK, that's a good one,' said Mike who proceeded to fetch Stewart back into the room. Stewart then began to ask his questions.

‘Have I screwed today?' he asked. They looked at his partner who said ‘No.'

‘Have I ever screwed?' ‘Yes,' they all replied.

‘Do I screw on my own?' This got a mixture of ‘yes', ‘probably' and ‘don't know'.

‘Have I screwed with anyone else?' This got the same mixed response.

‘Does screwing need special equipment?' Some of the people laughed briefly at this question, and it was decided after discussion that the proper answer was ‘No.'

‘Would I go to a special room to screw?' Shouts of ‘Yes' and ‘Probably.'

‘Is screwing dangerous?' ‘No.'

‘Is screwing exciting?' ‘No.'

And so the questions went on. After his twenty questions, Stewart eventually opted for ‘sleep' and collected a penalty for being incorrect. Everyone got a chance to leave the room and most of us ended up with penalties. I managed to guess my word correctly and won a prize. I happened to ask if screwing would be dangerous for my health and one clever dick, foolishly trying to be funny, said ‘only according to the words on the packet.' This indiscreet comment was not popular with the others who had simply said ‘Yes' and a few more carefully aimed questions allowed me to confidently guess that the word was ‘smoke.'

It doesn't sound like a very exciting game - you had to be there, I guess. Listening to pretty women asking silly questions about screwing had a strange liberating effect on me and made me believe anything might be possible later on. None of them had exchanged serious eye contact with me yet but a couple had honoured me with friendly smiles, so I had to assume my face didn't look like the way I felt, and at last the butterflies were dispersing slowly.

At the end of the game, Mike announced that we were going to play Pass the Host and this raised an expectant buzz around the whole room. ‘But first, we'll all get another drink while I explain the game quickly to Derek and Tracy.' As the others went to the kitchen to refill their glasses, Jeff gave Tracy an I'll-be-back smile which still made me uncomfortable. Mike explained the game to us. ‘This is our version of pass the parcel. I'll go first which means that I stand in the middle of the room and I am playing with the ladies. Helen will control the music without looking at the room. The ladies have a vibrator in their hand which they keep passing to their left until the music stops. When the music stops, the lady with the vibrator in her hand has to ask me to take off one item of clothing. It must be possible to remove the item without taking anything else off first. I have two pieces of paper somewhere on my body one saying ‘penalty' and one ‘prize'. If one of them is attached to the item of clothing I take off then she gets either the penalty or the prize. When both pieces of paper have been revealed, the game is over and it's Helen's turn to stand in the middle, playing with the men, while I control the music.'

I dashed out to the kitchen and refilled my glass with another large gin and tonic and also put a large slug of Martini in Tracy 's glass. I was just beginning to feel a little light headed, I noticed that the floor wasn't always where my foot expected it to be and I certainly wanted Tracy to lose her inhibitions as soon as possible. So far she hadn't objected to anything, seemed to be enjoying the games and it seemed to me she was definitely flirting with Jeff, which filled me with unexpected jealousy and hope that this would work out, all rolled into one. Maybe the scene in the car had just been a storm in a D cup.

Before the game started, Mike handed the vibrator it to Tracy . It was one of those ultra-realistic ones, which looked like a cock from a well hung native African. She looked at it as if she'd never seen one before and then she pulled a wry grin at me. I hope she wasn't thinking that all blacks are equipped like that. It's a myth after all, isn't it? As the music started, she passed it to the woman on her left. When the music stopped the vibrator had got to a very randy looking blonde who, I guessed, would have been anybody's after two drinks, so I was not surprised to hear her nominate Mike's trousers.

‘Unfortunately, the legs on these trousers are quite narrow at the bottom,' said Mike, ‘and I cannot get them over my shoes. You'll have to nominate something else.'

She settled for his pullover, which Mike took off but it did not yield any paper. The music restarted, the vibrator resumed its travels until the music stopped and the woman holding it nominated Mike's left shoe. This again revealed nothing. Next time the music stopped he had to remove his right shoe, but again no paper. Then, not to anyone's surprise, the next item of clothing that Mike had to remove was his trousers. The woman with the vibrator was obviously disappointed that no paper fell to the floor along with Mike's trousers. ‘What about the pockets?' she asked. So Mike turned all the pockets out, but still no paper. I could not help noticing that Mike was sporting a significant bulge in his underpants, but it didn't look the right shape to have been caused by an erection and I guessed Mike must be quite well endowed. I wasn't sure I wanted to find out just how well.

The fourth time the music stopped, Tracy was holding the vibrator again. By now, Mike was standing in his shirt, underpants and socks and neither of the pieces of paper had been found. I thought it was time she escaped from any remaining inhibitions so I leant over and whispered in her ear, ‘I bet you wouldn't dare to go for his underpants and see what he's got there,' at which Tracy blushed and whispered back, ‘Oh no? And why not? I'd bet that you're the one who'd lose out if I got to compare his assets with yours! Anyway, I don't think that's where he would have put the prize, it's too obvious.'

Tracy opted for Mike's left sock and as Mike took it off he turned it upside down, shook it and out fell a piece of paper.

‘Well let's see what Tracy has got,' said Mike unfolding the paper for all to see that it had PRIZE written on it. Tracy turned to me and gave me an I-told-you-so grin.

The next woman after Tracy to be left holding the vibrator chose Mike's underpants. Mike treated her, and the rest of the guests, to a slow strip tease. First, he slid his underpants slowly over his hips but without revealing his family jewels. He turned round to show everyone that there was no sign of any paper yet. Then he slid the front down revealing a very good sized cock with supporting cast. So what? Lots of cocks look big when flaccid but don't deliver the goods when they're erect, I said to myself. I felt a little better, but only a little. Again he pivoted round to show that there was no paper to be seen. The women by this time were cat-calling and telling him to get them off. Finally, he slid the pants about halfway down his thighs and then reached into them to take out a piece of paper - the penalty. I'm sure Tracy was dying to give me an even more pointed grin, but I studiously avoided looking at her and giving her that satisfaction.

Helen walked into the centre of the room and Mike walked over to the hi-fi. Tracy noticed that Mike slipped his underpants right off. ‘You would have thought he would have put some of his clothes back on wouldn't you?' Tracy commented to me.

‘Maybe he will after the game is finished', I replied, but I suspected that this was the beginning of a general disrobing.

Helen was wearing a smart trouser suit and the men now had their turn to find the pieces of paper by getting her to strip. ‘Perhaps I'd better just confirm that I can't get my trousers off over my shoes either,' said Helen before the music started. The first two men chose Helen's shoes which did not reveal any paper. Whether this was deliberately done so as to allow the following selections to be from a wider choice or whether the men simply went for what they thought were low risk options was not clear. In any event the next man asked her to remove her trousers. Helen slipped them off and then did not wait to be asked but simply turned all the pockets out to show there was no paper. Underneath, she was wearing tights and through the tights could be seen a pair of lacy knickers. There was no obvious sign of any paper to be seen through the tights but I didn't know how cleverly it might have been hidden. All the same, when the music stopped, the man with the vibrator presumably also didn't think the tights were concealing any paper for he chose the jacket. Helen took off her jacket and once again showed all the pockets empty. Helen could now be seen to be wearing tights with knickers underneath, and a blouse. It looked as if she was not wearing a bra because the shape of her aroused nipples could be seen quite clearly underneath the blouse.

Once again the music played for a short space of time and then Helen was asked to remove her blouse. Before removing it she reached into the turn-down collar and pulled out a piece of paper.

‘Well, Andrew,' she said, ‘you've certainly got something but I'll just slip out of my blouse before we look.'

As the blouse came off, Helen could be seen to be wearing a special bra with cut-outs for the nipples to poke through. Well, I thought, that certainly fooled me. Helen opened the paper to show that it had the word PENALTY written on it.

‘Sorry about that Andrew, rather a poor reward for being gentlemanly and choosing the most innocuous item. But as you know, we always randomise the locations before we start,' said Helen. Mike hadn't explained about the locations being randomised. I wondered about pointing out to Tracy the flaw in her reasoning as to why she hadn't chosen Mike's underpants, but decided that, since she'd ended up with a prize anyway, I'd be wasting my time.

Next it was the turn of Helen's tights but no paper had been hidden there. I found myself holding the vibrator when the music next stopped and I looked at Helen wearing only her bra and knickers. Now it was Tracy 's turn to taunt me but I quickly decided that I was going to make sure of a reward, one way or other and announced that I wanted Helen to take off her knickers. Even if the paper wasn't there, I reasoned, I would at least catch a glimpse of her pussy. Helen too decided to provide a bit of a strip show with her knickers, slowly easing them over her hips, then moving the elastic at the back right down to crotch level and slowly turning round giving a beautiful view to all the guests of her shapely buttocks. Then she lowered the elastic at the front revealing that her hair had been partially shaved leaving just a small heart shaped patch. Finally she turned her back to me and bent forwards so that as she slid the knickers down her legs, she gave me, in particular, a wonderful view of her shaved cunt. While bent down to step out of them, she took the second piece of paper from the gusset of the knickers as they lay on the floor.

Immediately, all the other guests got up and started removing their own clothes, except Tracy and I who watched rather puzzled. Mike hurried over, ‘Oh look, I'm sorry, I obviously forgot to explain that when this game finishes, all the guests have to get undressed until they're in the same state of dress or undress as Helen and I, so that means, Derek, that you take everything off except your right sock and shirt and Tracy takes everything off except her bra. Assuming you're wearing one, of course,' he said turning to Tracy . ‘Don't worry though, it won't be long before you have them all off .'

‘I think we'd better go', Tracy said sotto voce.

‘Oh come on! It's just getting undressed that's all. It's not so much different from going to the golf club sauna after all,' I whispered back.

‘That's what you think, is it? Well I think this is bound just to be the start of it and I'd rather leave before it goes too far. Before long it's just going to be one big orgy.'

‘Come on! We agreed to give it a try and it hasn't gone too far yet, you just said so yourself that it's only the start. We're still playing games.'

‘Get real! They want everyone undressed so they can ogle each other and then it will be touching up and then it will be fucking.'

‘How can you know that?' God, I thought, I hope she's right! ‘It's just a bit of harmless fun. It's just like being on the beach in the south of France ! Anyway, ogling is not groping.'

‘Well, OK. But I'm not completely happy about this and I'm not letting anyone maul me just because I don't have anything on'. I noticed, though, that she had a good stare at Jeff. He looked as if he had the wherewithal to more than satisfy Tracy later on. This was like walking a tightrope though. We were slowly inching our way to the promised land but one false move and Tracy would fall off and lose her cool. I had to keep her balanced and going forward. I was happy if she saw a goal to aim for - Jeff - even if at this stage I hadn't found anyone. For once, I had to be patient.

‘How about musical chairs?' asked Mike. This was greeted by general approval from the guests who immediately started collecting chairs and lining them up in the middle of the room. ‘This is just like real musical chairs', Mike explained to Derek and Tracy. ‘The men go one way round the chairs in the middle and the women go round the other way on the outside of the men. When the music stops, the men have to try to sit down on a chair and the ladies have to find a lap to sit on. One man and one woman is eliminated each time the music stops. Ladies have to sit on the lap facing the gentleman.'

Tracy looked around the room. The guests were obviously quite excited at the prospect of the next game and nearly all the men were now sporting erections. I guess it suddenly occurred to her what sitting on a strange lap might be like. It had certainly occurred to me what it would be like from the lap's point of view and I was already three quarters of the way to sporting a huge erection. But Tracy picked up her clothes and made for the door. I hurried after her. ‘What are you doing?' I asked.

‘Were going home. Like I was saying just a moment ago, this is just an excuse for the men to grope the women and I don't want any part of it.' We stopped in the hallway.

‘Don't be silly, Nobody is going to grope you. You just sit on a lap, that's all. What's wrong with that for Christ's sake? Please don't get dressed.'

‘I'm not going to argue about it, Derek. I don't like it. You said we could leave if it was over the top and it is, so we're leaving and that's all there is to it.' She had sour cream all over her face again.

‘No it's not all there is to it. I don't agree that it's over the top. It's just a bit of harmless fun. We said we would stay and see what happened. We said we'd play the games and if it progressed to fucking we would leave if we didn't want to join in. Well that hasn't happened yet. We're still only playing games. Nobody has asked you to fuck in front of them and that's the only thing you said you wouldn't do. I'm just getting into this party. It's just warming up. If we leave now we'll never know what it was like.' I was actually thinking that I'd never know, but I wanted to make Tracy feel she'd be missing out too. ‘We'll leave if it really does get out of hand but not before.' I was losing her. Even as we argued she was getting her clothes back on. I tried one last desperate gamble. ‘Who knows, maybe you'll get to sit on Jeff's lap.'

‘It's not just harmless body contact! Did you see all those men with their stiff cocks. It's obvious that the aim is to press their cocks against the women's bodies when they sit down on their laps and as far as I'm concerned that is over the top. It's practically fucking. It's not something I'm prepared to do in public with everyone looking. And as for your suggestion about Jeff, that just shows you also know that this is not about harmless body contact. Yes, I quite fancy him, but as I keep saying I'm not doing it in public. Now will you take me home?'

‘Hang on, They've obviously played this game before. It's pure chance - the result of the previous game - that everyone is practically undressed. They must have played this on other occasions when wearing more clothes, so it's not just an excuse to grope!'

‘You can't know that,' Tracy said. ‘Maybe they always arrange for everyone to be practically naked by their choice of where to hide those silly bits of paper. Now take me home.'

‘No I won't take you home. I want to stay. We agreed we'd stay.'

‘Derek, I am telling you for the last time I am not going to stay. Now please take me home like we agreed.' By now she was fully clothed.

‘No. Find yourself a taxi if you really must go. You're the one who's breaking the agreement.'

‘Oh very funny, there isn't a taxi rank for miles.'

‘Well then just hitch a lift. I'm sure if you lift your thumb nicely, or better still give a quick flash of your fanny, some sex starved madman will stop and let you into his car. Then you'll wish you had stayed here for some safe, controlled fun.'

‘Fuck you, you bastard', she said as she walked out the front door, ‘and don't think you can sweet-talk me in a couple of days and everything will be forgotten because you can't. We're finished.' The door closed.

I was stunned. How had this got out of hand so quickly? Was it really over between us or was it just her big mouth, again? Had I really been so unreasonable as to justify her breaking off our relationship? I wondered if I should rush after her, but it didn't seem logical. If she was in earnest, then nothing I could say now would have any effect, whereas if it was just Tracy 's big mouth again, then we'd make up in a few days anyway. It didn't seem there was any point in leaving the party just because she was having one of her emotional sulks. Mike came out to the hall, ‘What's going on, we're all ready to start?'

‘ Tracy 's gone,' I explained. ‘She didn't fancy the next game. I think she got a sudden and acute attack of prudishness.' Then I remembered that this was a couples only party. My heart sank. I'd possibly lost Tracy , and I'd have to leave the party anyway. ‘Sorry Mike, perhaps I'd better go too. This will have upset your numbers.'

‘No, no problem Derek. Come back into the room. I'll simply get one of the men to sit out the game. Someone with a penalty from an earlier game. Come on, I think you'll like this game. It's one of my favourites.'

I was still in a state of shock by Tracy 's sudden and venomous departure, but I'd looked forward to this evening too much to just abandon it. I didn't really believe Tracy . We'd had arguments before and the more I thought about it the more I believed we'd make up in a couple of days and it would all be history. I determined to put it out of my mind and to enjoy what was left of the evening.

It turned out that Tracy 's premonition about the game had been rather accurate. Musical chairs turned out to be one of the raunchiest games we played that evening. The music played and I went round the chairs while the women were circulating in the opposite direction then, when it stopped, I grabbed a chair and some woman would land on my lap. I had no choice in who this was, which was part of the excitement, I guess. I'd never had women thrust themselves at me before, I'd always chased them - chosen someone I fancied and made a play for them. But in this game, virtually naked women, some I fancied and some I was only mildly turned on by, landed on my lap looking hot and flushed. I don't remember why there was such a long pause while the women sat on the men, my recollection of musical chair as a child was that someone would be eliminated from the game and it would restart almost immediately. I guess it was just to give the players some fun time.

At one point the randy looking blonde plopped down on my lap neatly impaling herself on my stiff cock. This took me by surprise - a pleasant surprise I have to admit - but nevertheless a surprise. I didn't actually think it could have been done without using hands to guide the entrance, but she must have practiced, was all I could think. I tried to look around at the other players to see if any of them had gone this far, or if anyone had noticed her manoeuvre and was looking at us, but the blonde grabbed my chin with her hand and turned my head back to look at her. She had sexy eyes, so deep, so devouring and she demanded my full attention. Once she had it, she started squeezing and relaxing her muscles, sending my cock towards nirvana. So I kept looking at her, our eyes locked, our mouths just an inch apart defying the necessity to kiss until, regretfully, the music restarted. Then she gave me a quick peck on the lips before she rose and we went our separate ways.

Quite apart from the obvious sexual stimulation, I liked the game for its amusement value. The sight of all those men running round the chairs wearing just one sock and a shirt with their erections flapping in front of them was one of the funniest sights I had ever witnessed. As the game progressed, the alcohol began to make serious inroads into my brain. I found I was suddenly completely and utterly unconcerned by my own nakedness and the display of my own sexual excitement to the assembled party goers. I no longer cared that some of the men were clearly bigger than me. Round and round the chairs I went until the music stopped and I always just had time to plant my arse on a chair before some new woman landed on top of me. Whether they wanted to be shy or not, they had no option but to spread their legs and jump onto my lap. This was the best ice-breaker yet. I would always make some complimentary comment to put them at ease - nice legs, nice tits, great body - well you have to say something. Unless that is your cock has become buried deep within her, when words no longer matter. But that only happened the once.

The music would start again and it'd be back to the old rotation. Before I really realised, I found I was the only man sitting on a chair with the randy blonde once again on top of me. This time thankfully, since all eyes were on us, she refrained from engaging me in another close encounter, so to speak. We had won the game and I had picked up my second prize. Mike suggested that we all get a drinks refill before the next game. I was vaguely aware that somewhere a phone rang and was answered. I returned to the room with a full glass and looked around for the sexy blonde, but I couldn't see her. I wanted to reserve my place for later, though I wasn't sure about the etiquette. I definitely wanted more of her. She must have still been in the kitchen, though, which was packed with naked bodies searching for new supplies of alcohol. Well, I think that's what they were doing. Maybe I shouldn't be so task focussed - go in, get drink, come out. Perhaps I should have lingered more.

Events were now becoming a blur. I no longer felt the bruises when I bumped into furniture. The floor of Mike's house developed unexplainable irregularities that made it impossible to walk normally or to stand still. Instead, to have a conversation with someone each of us had to keep moving backwards and forwards like acrobats on stilts. Everyone was completely naked but I had no recollection of how or when we'd shed our remaining articles. The women's bodies became irresistibly attracted to my body, like magnets, so that we'd crash into each other, whereupon the momentum of our hands would cause them to land on each other's private parts and then we'd fall about laughing.

Still, I can just remember the next game. It was called Blind Buff Man or something like that. It began with the blonde in the middle of a circle formed by all the men. All the men had their hands behind their backs. She was blindfolded and turned round and round until she was thoroughly disorientated. She was then told to choose a man by walking slowly in some direction with her hands behind her back until she made contact. I was disappointed that she was not walking in my direction. I was already beginning to feel jealous of any other man who got her attention. When she arrived at the edge of the circle of men, she made contact with a definite but soft bump as a result of the combined effects of intoxication and of her soft curves. She moved herself up and down over his body but was not allowed to use her hands. She kissed him lightly on the lips then used her mouth to feel his whole body. After two minutes of this exploration, she had to guess who it was. She was unsuccessful. The man she had blindly chosen then went into a circle formed by all the women and he similarly had to choose a woman and guess who it was. I remember that, at some point, Mike's wife Helen, correctly guessed the man she was rubbing against and not only was she awarded a prize, as noted on Mike's list, but a second turn in the middle.

I don't remember how it worked but I know it was arranged so that everyone eventually got a turn in the middle. When it was my turn to be in the middle, I must have got very lucky. He found myself pressed up against a warm soft body, my cock pressed against the rough texture of pubic hair. I was so drunk I no longer cared what anybody saw me doing - I would have positioned it somewhere more exciting except that without the use of my hands I knew it would have been quite impossible. I kissed the mystery woman and moved down to suck her nipples. Then further down to crotch level to smell her there. I love the smell of a woman's pussy especially when it is aroused as this one was. I wondered if I could lick her, but she had her legs firmly together and the hair was abrasive on my tongue, like wire wool. I wondered how I was supposed to identify a strange woman while blindfolded, especially since the one woman I might have been expected to recognise had stomped off in a sulk. But there was something that seemed familiar about this woman. I stood up again. Perhaps it was the perfume, or her lips. Something stirred a recent memory. My time was up and I had to guess. There was only one other woman I'd become faintly familiar with.

‘I'm sorry, I don't know people's names,' I said, ‘but I think it is the lady with blonde hair,' I said. It was indeed her, and I was awarded a prize and a second go.

More drink. I don't understand how that's possible but after a certain point drink no longer seems to have any effect. It passes the lips but I don't feel it land in my stomach and I don't seem to get any more drunk. Bodies were now pressing very close together in the kitchen. Stiff cocks colliding with bodies. I no longer freaked out if I contacted someone's erection. Back to the front room for another game where we formed into couples. Mike described various strange postures that the couples had to adopt. The postures started off quite simple, like giving each other a bear hug, then became more complex. I particularly remembered one of these poses. She and I had to face each other while I had to put my left arm through her legs and hold her right hand behind her back while she had her left arm through my legs and holding my right hand behind my back. I remembered it not only because it was very erotic with all that close groin contact but also because it was bloody difficult, after so much booze, first to get into the posture and second not to fall over. After each round we had to form new couples. Only a hazy recollection of other poses survived my inebriation; my cock held by warm thighs, faces pressed into sweaty buttocks, toes getting wet in hot groins. Anyway, the game was that, having first rehearsed the position under Mike's expert guidance, the men and women separated and moved round in contra-rotating circles with yet more music playing waiting for it to stop. Then, not only did you have to find your partner, who might be anywhere, but you had to get back into the rehearsed position. I found very quickly that the best technique was to drag my partner to the edge of the room and out of the confusion that everyone else was creating in the middle. We then had space to get into whatever pose Mike had dreamt up. Meanwhile, all the other players were in a tangled mess of bodies, unable to adopt the simplest of poses. I confess that towards the end of the game, I wondered if it would have been more fun to stay with the writhing bodies. Perhaps I was too competitive? It had always been a problem of mine and it was true that I were nearly always winning the prize, but was I also winning from the point of view of having fun? I'd had too much drink to be able to work it out.

Suddenly the games were over. Mike went to look at the prize and penalty scores and to my surprise it turned out that I was the man who had won most prizes.

‘This means you get the special prize,' said Mike. ‘You'll really like this, just follow Helen.' I was beyond hesitation then. There was nothing I could do but follow. I would have liked to know what my special prize would be, but I was very happy to be led away by Helen, the naked, sexy Helen who had given me a special, private view of her shaved cunt when we were playing Pass the Vibrator or whatever the game was called, for that was the way to discover my prize. My special prize, whatever it was, and I did want to find out what it was. Helen took my hand and lead me away into a bedroom. There was a four poster bed in the room. I wondered if she was the special prize and whether I should take her now in a manly way, showing her who was boss. But I was instructed to lie down on the bed, so I did.

‘Don't be alarmed,' Helen said to me sweetly, ‘I'm going to tie you to the bed and you'll find out why in a moment. This is going to be very exciting for you.'

I'd never been tied to a bed before. Within no time at all, it seemed, I was tied spread-eagled to the bed, one wrist firmly tied to each of the posts at the head of the bed and one ankle firmly tied to each of the posts at the foot of the bed. I hadn't struggled. Helen had somehow made it all seem innocuous and I couldn't have struggled in my inebriated state even if I'd wanted to. I'd just lain on the bed enjoying the touch of her hands as she took my limbs and moved them into position then gently tied them there. She'd been almost professional, detached. I felt a tremendous mixture of anticipation, excitement, fear, vulnerability and puzzlement. Perhaps everyone does, the first time they are tied up naked like that. Her face swam in front of mine one last time.

‘Now I'm going to blindfold you,' she continued, ‘and I have to make sure you cannot see because in a moment you will be visited by some of the ladies and it is essential for your enjoyment that you don't know who they are. That is all part of the fun of this prize as I'm sure you'll find out very soon.' Everything went dark as the blindfold covered my eyes. ‘Mike will be sorting out those ladies with the most penalties and they will be coming in here to pleasure you for four minutes each. It is essential that you do not talk to them and they do not talk to you otherwise you recognise who they are and, believe me, that would spoil the treat. The only sound you should hear will be the knock on the door when the four minutes are up.'

By now, I could not see anything nor could I move at all. I was lying there spread wide, immobilized, at the mercy of anyone who was in the same room. The last image of Helen's face was still impressed on my brain. She looked kind but also something else. What? Sad? Apologetic? Regretful? I heard Helen leave the room. Perhaps she knew she wouldn't be one of the ladies that would be treating me and having seen me on the bed at her mercy she wished she could have been. I didn't know why else she might feel depressed. I heard somebody come in. I listened hard for any clues as to what was happening but the thick pile carpet meant that there was no noise. The next thing I was aware of was somebody joining me on the bed - the mattress moved down with the added weight. I felt warm smooth skin next to the side of my body, waist high. Then I felt warm skin on the other side of my body as if someone was straddling me. My cock was picked up by a warm hand and without further ado I recognised the unmistakable sensation of a sexually excited cunt enveloping my cock. It was incredible, some woman, and I had absolutely no idea who, was screwing me. My mind raced with the possibilities. My cock throbbed with the sensual stimulation of the anonymous body sliding slowly up and down its length. There was no sound except the occasional, characteristic, wet sound of sex. Now I thought I realised what Helen had meant - this would not have been anything like as exciting if I'd known the identity of the lady who was screwing me; her very anonymity assured an added frisson, the ultimate male fantasy of a ‘no commitment' fuck. Too soon I heard a knock on the door and a second later my cock flopped wetly onto my abdomen as my phantom lover retreated from the room.

Five more times this scenario was repeated. Six times in total an anonymous lady sank my cock to the hilt in her warm moistness. Six times I wondered at the subtle differences of texture I enjoyed as the intimate embrace rode up and down my shaft. And then, just as I was going to reach my climax with my sixth encounter, there came the knock at the door and my sixth anonymous lover left me alone. There seemed to be a longer pause this time and I began to wonder if the prize was now finished, but then I heard the door open and, for a seventh time, somebody entered the room. ‘How many more?' I wondered. I realised that the next four minutes of screwing would finish me off and I would not be able to avoid coming, whether there were further women queuing up or not. I began to think it would be rather a shame if I couldn't manage all the women that Mike had lined up for me.

‘Hello Derek. Well you do look a sight.'

My blood ran cold. I seemed to sober up in a millisecond. I recognised the voice immediately. It was Jenny. What the fucking hell was she doing here?

I am so sorry. I think I owe you an apology. You've probably been reading the story thus far under a misapprehension, a false premise, an unsafe assumption. You see, Jenny is my wife. Tracy ? She's just some fun on the side. I really hadn't thought for a minute that Jenny would turn up at the party so it didn't seem necessary to explain to you exactly who Tracy is. It seemed a harmless subterfuge to allow you to assume she was my wife because it avoided what I expected to be an unnecessary explanation. But Jenny's sudden appearance has not only caused me considerable consternation but has also made it necessary to come clean with you about Tracy's status, and, well, the poor state of my marriage. How embarrassing!

The fact is I've been married to Jenny for fourteen years and inevitably over those fourteen years we've become completely familiar with each other, and our sex life has become mediocre. We still have sex but not very often and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to surprise or excite her, and vice versa. So when we do have sex it isn't particularly satisfying. I did try my best to add some excitement to our bedroom but it didn't seem to work. I even suggested to Jenny attending a swinging party, like the one I was now at, but she had no inclination to participate. I've realised for a long time that Jenny is not one of those women who have the imagination or interest to make that special effort to find ways of making sex interesting; maybe it is because she's usually tired out by her long hours of surgery at the hospital, or maybe it's because, deep down, she simply isn't that interested in sex. Whatever the reason, I  gave up trying, and I found a mistress, Tracy, five months ago.

When I first started having sex with Tracy , it was incredibly exciting. There was not only the excitement of a new conquest but also the excitement of knowing that I was misbehaving and getting away with it. It was like the excitement of having sex when I was a teenager and believing that if my parents found out I'd be in deep, deep trouble. Jenny seemed to have been grateful for the decreased attention from me since I no longer pestered her for sex on a regular basis, so there wasn't even any challenge in keeping the affair secret from her. She hardly seemed to notice that I happily went to sleep, apparently unsatisfied, and most nights she still got home from the hospital so late that I was home before her. On the odd occasion that she was home first, she accepted my explanation of working late at the office. I sometimes wondered if Jenny would have noticed, or even cared, if I had come home one evening with lipstick on my cock. But, of course, it didn't take long for the newness of the relationship with Tracy to pale. That was when the old yearning to experience an orgy returned. I needed that something extra to satisfy my craving for sexual excitement which was why I'd persuaded her to go to the party with me. But back to the party proper.

There was no mistaking Jenny's voice. I couldn't imagine what she was doing here. How long had she been here? I hadn't seen her downstairs and I couldn't imagine her being there under any circumstances and especially not in an elaborate disguise. How much did she know? I was instantaneously afflicted by limpness.

‘Wha..' I couldn't think what to say, what to ask.

‘I must say you look remarkably harmless on that bed, laid out like a dissection specimen. What's happened to your cock all of a sudden, darling? Have you lost the desire to screw? I don't imagine you'd normally do that when there's pussy around. No matter, are you comfortable?' Jenny removed my blindfold. I found my tongue at last.

‘What are you doing here?' I croaked in a squeaky voice that surprised even me.

‘Ah, yes, I thought you'd be wondering about that. Well, I received a most interesting phone call from your friend, Tracy. She told me all about your little liaison, which didn't please me, and about this party here and what she thought was going to happen, which pleased me even less. But she also told me how you'd broken your promise to leave with her and how you made her to get a taxi on her own. She told me all this because she thought I ought to know what sort of bastard I'm married to.'

What a traitor, I thought to myself. Well I'm glad I won't be seeing Tracy again. I might be tempted to strangle her. I could see now, in hindsight, that she'd obviously been much more upset than I'd realised. Obviously we wouldn't be patching things up again after this. I had to think fast. I decided to deny it all. ‘Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know what that bitch said to you but it was obviously all lies. This is not what you think. I thought this was an ordinary party And Mike asked me to bring his friend along, Tracy , to make the numbers balance. We were all having some harmless fun but they suddenly they tied me up and took my clothes off. I couldn't stop them. I can explain it all but not tied up like this; I feel ridiculous. Would you untie me please?'

‘You'll have to do better than that, Derek. You see, I've been here quite a while and I even saw you playing some of the games downstairs but you were too absorbed in your fun to notice me. Anyway, what you said was illogical. How could they remove your clothes after tying you up? It's not possible.' Far from untying me she was actually moving round the bed, tightening my restraints so that I couldn't move at all. Not a fraction of an inch was available to my hands or legs. ‘But I don't have to apply logic because I know exactly how much resistance you showed to being tied up on this bed. None, to be precise. And I know just how many clothes you were wearing when you were tied up. None, to be precise. And I saw exactly how much objection you raised to the treatment you've been receiving from the ladies for the last half hour. None, to be precise.'

This was really bad news. ‘You mean you've been in the room watching?' I couldn't believe it but I had to ask. I was beginning to seriously worry. Jenny had this calm, almost friendly, voice with which she was talking to me, but I was sure deep down she must be very angry. Especially if she'd seen what had happened in the room. Her face wasn't friendly, for sure. I couldn't sort out in my mind what was going on.

‘Oh, yes,' she confirmed. ‘But that is not the whole picture. You see, I've done better than that, my darling. I was one of the six ladies who pampered your cock while you've been tied to the bed.'

At this point I saw Jenny open her medical bag and take out what looked like black thread. Jenny walked over and started to wrap the thread very tightly around the top of my scrotum where it emerged from my groin. It was fucking painful, let me tell you.

‘Ow, what the bloody hell are you doing. That hurts!' I was in real agony, let me assure you.

‘Well, I'm not very bothered that it hurts Derek,' came that worryingly calm voice again, ‘and I'm not at all surprised. It's just a bit of surgical ligature. I'm tying off your balls in order to stop the blood circulation, so it has to be tight. I hate unnecessary loss of blood. All surgeons do.' I wondered through the pain what she was babbling on about. Cutting off the blood? Was she mad? ‘You see, we're going to play a little game once, I've got this secure.'

Jenny tied the loose ends of the ligature and stepped back. My balls hurt like hell. It felt like she'd tied the ligature so tight it would cut my balls right off, not just the blood flow. Now I understood the voice. This was the calm professional doctor showing through, detached, unemotional. But I didn't need a doctor. Every bit of me had been working fine.

‘There,' she said with satisfaction. ‘Now it's a bit like Russian Roulette, this game we're going to play, except that in Russian Roulette you have a one in six chance of an unhappy ending while, in this game, if you were to play it by pure chance and not by skill, that is, you only have a one in six chance of avoiding an unhappy ending. As I said, I was one of the six ladies who came to you and gave you a four minute screw. All you have to do is identify which one of those six was me. I'm sure you should have been able to recognise your own wife, so this ought to be a very simple and easy! However, like all the other games you've been playing, if you lose, you get a penalty. In this game, if by any chance you should fail to correctly work out which one of the six ladies was me, I shall be so deeply insulted, so mortally offended, that I'll have no option but to castrate you.' She walked back to her medical bag while she continued to talk. ‘It's the only revenge I can think of that's severe enough to restore my self esteem.' I think my eyes stuck out on stalks and I noticed an evil grin appear for the first time on Jenny's face. ‘That's right, I'll use this scalpel,' by now she was holding a small shiny implement in her hand, ‘to remove your balls and then there will be no more screwing around for you, ever. Now you see why I wanted to stop the blood flow. So, you'd better think hard before you give me your answer.'

She was mad, of course. ‘You're mad,' I screamed at the top of my voice. ‘You wouldn't do that. HELP! HELP ME SOMEBODY! HELP!'

‘You're wasting your breath, Derek. They've all gone. You see, it was a simple matter to persuade them, when I rang, that I could inform the police about their sordid party and that if I told the police what was going on here then the house would certainly be raided. So they agreed to let me join the party and devise a fitting punishment for you in return for my silence. Then, when I worked out my punishment, I gave them a broad outline of what I was going to do, omitting the distasteful details about your final penalty of course, and they agreed they would all leave the house after your six screws. I think they went off to some motel or other to finish their evening activities. So there is absolutely no point in shouting. No point at all. There's nobody in the house, except you and me, and the nearest neighbour is too far away to hear you even if the house didn't have double glazing.' She looked at me with a malevolence I'd never seen before. The eyes bore into me while a thin smile emerged from her lips. The emotional detachment I'd noticed earlier had now disappeared. She was actually relishing the prospect of mutilating my body. I could see clearly that the implement she was now tossing from hand to hand was a steel scalpel. She was probably already rehearsing in her mind a swift slicing movement to detach my balls from my body. But this was lunacy. This couldn't be happening.

‘I don't understand,' I said. ‘Why are you taking this so personally, You haven't shown any interest in sex for the last two years. Why is it such a big deal to you that I've come here to this party?'

‘You're so right, and yet so wrong. I've had little interest in having sex with you, that's true, but I've been having sex with one of the doctors at the hospital, someone who really knows how to use sex to give a woman pleasure. I got thoroughly fed up with that selfish way you fuck that always leaves me frustrated. No wonder I preferred not to have sex at all than be left like that each night. Imagine my surprise when I found out it didn't have to be like that, that women can have wonderful orgasms too, provided the man knows what he's doing and is sensitive and caring. All these nights you thought I'd been working late at the hospital have been the happiest, most fulfilling and satisfying of my life.'

I was stunned. Jenny had been having an affair! What a bitch! ‘So if you're happily having an affair with some doctor, what's the big deal with me?' I asked. ‘Why are you contemplating castrating me?'

‘As you've obviously worked out it isn't really to do with hurt pride. I couldn't give a toss about you having sex with another woman. No, I suppose some of it is revenge for Tracy . But mostly I want to protect the other women in this town from you and your inept love making. Tracy 's never going to see you again, but I know that, given the chance, you'll just find some other poor woman and disappoint her like you disappoint all the women in your life. I'm being socially responsible, you could say. Improving the environment. Working for the common good. But I'm not completely heartless. I am giving you every opportunity to avoid this unfortunate fate. All you have to do is correctly identify my cunt, as it were. If you hadn't been playing away and if you'd treated me properly and given me good regular service, you would still remember clearly what I felt like. You'd have no problem. It would be the one you know so well. On the other hand, your sexual conduct has left you a little at a disadvantage. So, my little Casanova, have you thought it over? Are you ready to tell me which one of the ladies who visited you was me? You've had a little time to think it over while I've been nattering on.'

She had come to stand close to my groin and was now studying my genitals with a disconcerting concentration. ‘Hang on,' I said, ‘you said that if I get this wrong I get a penalty. Does that mean that, if I get it right, I get a prize?' I have no idea why I asked the question as there seemed so little chance I would get the question right. I was like a condemned man asking for a final cigarette. Anything to put off that awful moment.

‘Yes, of course, how thoughtless of me not to explain. If you guess correctly, Derek dear, then your prize is that I don't cut off your balls.' A malicious smile landed on her face and she fought like crazy not to let it develop into full blown laughter. She was unable to speak for about ten seconds. ‘Now, have you decided on your answer because I really must press you for it now? I don't have all night. Oh, just one last little point you ought to consider before you tell me. As I'm sure you're aware, I'm not qualified to administer any anaesthetics. Only to perform surgical procedures. So if you force me to proceed with the operation by refusing to identify me correctly, you will sadly have to suffer the full pain of the operation without any analgesic. That should be interesting, don't you think? Oh, and I've never done this operation before but it can't be that complicated, can it? I'm sure I'll work it out in under, oh, two hours? I'm quite looking forward to it in fact. I've often wondered what those little objects have in them to make them so precious to a man, and so exquisitely sensitive. So I thought I'd do a little exploratory dissection on them first, before actually removing them. It wouldn't be the same to dissect them after removal. Tissue reacts to dissection quite differently when it is still enervated, did you know that? It's so much more fascinating. Now, what's your answer? Just give me a number between one and six and I'll do the rest.'