Saving Matt

At first it was pure lust that attracted me to Nancy. Those big green eyes, beautiful red hair down to her shoulders, soft, yet perky b cup breasts with beautiful nipples poking out behind her blouse. Her ass was perfect too; that nice round bubble shape that looks so good in tight jeans. It didn't help that she had that soft southern accent, and seemed so deferential to men, replying yes sir or no sir to my questions.

We dated for almost a year before getting married at the ripe old age of 24. Nancy was five years older than me, which helped turn me on even more when she was so accommodating to my desires because, as she said, I was the man. In her world women did what the man wanted. Although I had grown up in a liberal NE town, it was still intoxicating to be treated that way. Needless to say our sex life was great for the beginning of our married years.

As we got older and settled down the other side of that endearment became more evident. The jealousy and suspicion and demands for showing how much I loved her became overwhelming at times. I think if I had not had a job that took me away from home for weeks and sometimes months at a time I would probably have gotten divorced before everything changed.

My job took me all over the world, with lots of time to my self. I spent a good deal of time looking for sex, and getting more wrapped up in deeper and darker fantasies over the years, as the previous ones became too tame. I seemed to settle into the fantasies of dominance and submission the deepest, wondering what it would be like to be a Master, and yes, even a slave.

By the time I was in my early thirties I was fascinated with S&M and dominance and submission. I had been to a few professional dominatrixes over the years, but had a craving for more. Eventually I had less and less fantasies of dominating a woman and more of just pure submission, to anyone. I realized I could get most of my thrill from being submissive to a Man, and never have to pay for it. It was hard for me to pay for sex services like domination and keep the costs hidden. I liked the idea of having a female slave as well, but realized that probably wasn't in my future, being married, and having a relatively small penis. All of the books and magazines about Masters showed men with huge penises, none had one as small as my thin five inches.

My fantasies eventually became real when I responded to ads from Dominant men. I started out scared, but once naked and on my knees in front of a strong man I easily opened my mouth and did what I was told. I kept copies of any chats on line with dominant men, and kept files of pictures of me from these "outings". The pictures were quite graphic, showing me sucking on big cocks, taking cock up the ass while on all fours, dressed in women's underwear, and many with the Man's cum all over my face.

I would frequently go to these photos and masturbate when I was unable to do it for real. I am sure this may have had some affect on my married sex life, as sex had become less and less over the years, the more I would get into these fantasies. During those years my wife Nancy became more and more religious, eventually joining a small church on the outskirts of the town we lived in. The church was very strict, almost cult like, but seemed to accept that we were not necessarily on the same page religiously. In fact I rarely went, only when harassed and cajoled into it by Nancy, usually as a sign I loved her.

The church was also kind of unusual because it was on a large estate, with many small houses and a huge barn, as well as numerous outbuildings. It was surrounded by wrought Iron fencing at least eight feet high, with two large gates at the entrance. A church member, who provided security, always manned the front gate. The houses were for the more devout members who lived on the "estate" It all started on the Sunday the week before my 35th birthday. My wife had been busier with the church than I could ever remember, Going back and forth to the church, several times that week, and usually in the evening. I would ask her what was up but she would just say they were getting prepared this week so they could do the right thing. While she was out at church I would be online masturbating to my fantasies, reading new ones, or looking for Dominant men to hook up with.

When Sunday finally came I went to church with her, partially out of a sense of guilt, partly because I was curious what all the excitement was about. As we drove in the gate I felt like the gatekeeper had sneered at me, and it seemed like others arriving were being polite to Nancy, but avoiding even looking at me, no less acknowledging me. After everyone had sat down in church, the women on the left and the men on the right, did I realize I was the only one in my row. The row behind me and ahead of me was filled with men, but I sat all alone.

Then the preacher started addressing the crowd, but looking straight at me, or at least that is how I felt. He started talking about the evils of adultery, the sins of homosexuality and how one would have to suffer if one was caught doing it. He said there was no greater sin against God then for a man to have sex with another man, and it made him no longer a man. When he had finished his tirade I was glad, until I noticed my wife heading to the altar, carrying something in her hand. While it was not unheard of for her, or others to go up and make comments about a sermon, it seemed odd for her after this one.

It wasn't until she was up there at the podium that I noticed she had my laptop with her, and was hooking it into their multimedia presentation. She looked down at me with what I thought was sadness, and then she spoke.

"My name is Nancy, and that sinner sitting by himself is my husband Matthew. I have proof that he is a sinner, has engaged in homosexual acts with men, has dressed in women's underwear, and has very sick and perverted fantasies. I am showing all this today as requested so we can all see the facts before praying for the right thing to do." As I started to slither out of my row several strong hands gripped my shoulders and in no uncertain term the men in front of me and behind me told me to stay where I was. Nancy then requested anyone under 18 or who did not wish to view my filth to leave. A few children and a couple of older women left the church, but there were still a good six rows on each side filled with men and women.

I couldn't believe how sick to my stomach I felt when faced with true humiliation. This wasn't some sick fantasy, this was going to happen right here, right now. And then it did. Picture after picture of me sucking men's cocks, big cocks, swallowing sperm, having a face full of sperm, being bent over and taking it up the ass. There were pictures of me in bras and panties, with the word sissy across my body. I could hear the chuckles from the men and women when the pictures of my little dick popped up on the screen. As I sat there my wife read some of those intimate chats I had with dominant men, her face getting angrier by the minute as she spoke, filled with disgust. I on the other hand was sweating buckets literally, wanting to disappear, but knowing I couldn't.

When she was finally finished the preacher came back up and told the men in the row behind me to take me to the barn while we pray for his soul. I was literally dragged out of the church and brought to the barn, in broad daylight, with no one seeming to think there was anything wrong with this. I was handcuffed and tied to a post and left for about an hour. The men eventually came back and brought me into the church. I then learned I would hear the decision of the church members on how best to save my soul.

Still handcuffed and led by a rope around my neck I was brought up to the front of the congregation and made to kneel in front of my wife. Nancy looked down at me and told me that everyone had prayed and had come to a unanimous decision, which we will carry out today. Something about the way she said that made me scared and feeling totally helpless. I had barely started to ask what she meant when she said, " Matthew, because of your perversions and sickness and the amount of time you have been involved with this sick lifestyle, we have made the decision that the only choice to save your soul is your complete and utter emasculation. Luckily Dr Michael is an urologist and has prepared a small exam room in one of the houses for your procedure" My head was spinning, what did she mean complete and utter emasculation. Where they actually talking about castrating me, or worse?

Before I could even speak my wife continued. "You will be taken out to the barn and prepared for your procedure by the women of the congregation. Once you are ready the Men will come get you and take you to Dr. Michael. Don't worry, I am sure it will be relatively harmless." I tried to speak but all I could do was shiver and cry uncontrollably, throwing up as I shook. I didn't want to believe this was happening, it was so weird to think that the woman I married, who had been so polite and feminine with me, was now telling me I was to be utterly emasculated. Not once during this complete humiliation did I get any sexual excitement. This was real and complete and terrifying. As I knelt at her feet I could feel the warmth in my pants spread, and the humiliation of realizing I had just peed myself.

Nancy looked down and turned to the Man with the rope and said " Sir, please get him to the barn before he makes a worse mess". Before I knew it I was being dragged, led out of the church by the men. As I looked back I could see the members of the congregation coming up to comfort my wife. No one even looked at me. When we got to the barn the men placed me between two posts, and tied my wrists and ankles to the posts so I was accessible for the preparations, or so I heard one of them say.

A few minutes later the women of the congregation came in, led by my wife Nancy who was holding a pair of sewing scissors. While some of the women were dragging a hose out, another was getting a bucket to bring to where I stood. Another couple of women where setting up a table with razors and shaving cream. As I looked around in total fear Nancy walked up to me, slapped me across the face, and then told me it was for my own good. She then took the scissors to my jacket and started to cut it off my body. Next went my shirt, undershirt, pants and underpants without even stopping to take a break. When I was naked before her she looked down at my crotch and said "it will sure look funny to see it gone" Then chuckled at her little joke. Next she picked up the electric haircutters and immediately went to work on my head, cutting all my hair off. While she was doing this I was being lathered up all over with shaving cream, and then I could feel razors all over my body shaving the hair off my legs and back and chest and all around my ass and crotch until I was completely hairless, even my scalp. Of course the entire time I was begging her to let me go, begging her to tell me what they were going to do, telling her I was sorry, promising to never do anything bad again.

When the women were done with the shaving they all came around the front of me while one of them hosed me down with cold water. The fear and the cold water shrunk my small dick to almost nothing, to which the women snickered at. Nancy then said, "as you can see ladies there won't be any great loss here" and they all chuckled as they left.