d

(Picture Azar took of me on stage . . . fully clothed)

The Man Who Lost His Penis

It was a fairly normal day . . . well, for this place at least.

I was walking out front to fill my water bottle at the water fountain when the manager stopped me and asked if I would be interested in doing a show for a special customer. He went on to tell me that the customer was a cross-dresser. The manager had been helping the customer pick out some women's lingerie downstairs when the customer inquired about the shows upstairs. The manager said the customer was paying for his clothes right now, but would be up shortly.

I told the manager I would be happy to do the show and went back to the dressing room to wait for the customer. I picked up the Adbusters magazine I had been reading and tried to look relaxed. A couple minutes went by and the manager came around the corner with the customer in tow. They stopped in front of my booth, facing me. The manager turned to the customer and appeared to be giving him the run down on how the shows work. The customer smiled and nodded and the manager waved goodbye to me and left.

The customer put one finger up as to indicate that he would be right back. I smiled and mouthed, "O.k." He was carrying a large duffle style bag, in addition to a large plastic bag, containing his recent purchases.

A couple more minutes passed and the customer emerged from the bathroom, looking the same as he did before. I half expected him to come out with a lace teddy on . . . or something to that effect.

The customer walked into the booth, placed his things on the floor and picked up the phone. I asked him if he had been here before and he said, "No." I went over the different shows and the prices. He decided on the basic $20.00 show and proceeded to put his money into the bill acceptor. I closed the shade to the hallway, while his shade went up.

The customer was a 40-something year old male and he reminded me of a biker. He had a large round face and a husky build. His hair was salt and pepper in color and had a wiry texture. He had a matching beard and mustache, in addition to a tuft of hair that spilt over the top of his button-down shirt.

The customer greeted me with large brown eyes, framed with endless lashes. I was struck by how kind his eyes were compared to his otherwise, rugged appearance. They revealed a sensitivity that I rarely see around here . . . a sensitivity that women often reveal. I was immediately drawn to him . . . not sexually, but emotionally.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he responded, looking a little shy.

I started to undress slowly for him. A smile spread across his face.

"Do you mind if I get more comfortable?," he asked.

"Of course not," I said.

He started to undo his shirt, revealing a black lace bodysuit. He undid his pants, pulled them down to his ankles, and stepped out of them entirely. "Oh, you look beautiful," I said.

"Thank you," he said, coyly.

"You look beautiful too," he went on.

"Thank you," I said.

He went on to say that he bought the black lace bodysuit downstairs. I asked him if he wore women's clothing very often. "Yes, I wear womens underwear underneath my clothes everyday," he said. He went on to tell me that he is single, but has a lot of male friends. Once in a while, they all get together and dress up (like women) and go out on the town. I looked at him, trying to imagine him out in public dressed up like a woman. His eyes were the only feminine feature he had. He had a large round pie face covered in thick wiry hair and his body was short and thick. I just couldn't picture it.

I sat back with my legs underneath me . . . naked. He did not seem so interested in me being naked. He was very complimentary and told me that I had a nice figure, but it seemed like he was more interested in talking. He wanted to be seen and heard, and I was happy to admire and listen.

He reached down between his legs, searching for the snaps to the bodysuit. It took him a moment, but he was finally able to undo the snaps. He pulled the flap up and tucked it under the top portion of the bodysuit, so it now looked like a black lace tank top. My eyes followed his hands back down in front of his groin. He had a large mound of thick black hair between his legs, but something was terribly wrong. I searched and searched, but it was not there.

This customer, with the big brown sensitive eyes, had no penis.

I was not sure how to bring this up. It was obvious the customer knew I would notice, but how would I acknowledge this. My mind raced for possibilities: "So, where's your penis? Wow, that must have hurt. Did you have an accident?" I didn't know what to say. I finally decided on, "Did you have the operation?", meaning "Are you post-op?"

He smiled and said, "No, I lost it in an accident."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said.

"That's o.k., it happened a long time ago," he said.

I didn't ask him any more questions about it and he didn't offer any more info.

He went on to tell me that he just started taking womens hormones and has decided to go through the change. I didn't say anything, but I thought to myself that it didn't seem to be working very well. I mean this guy was as manly as they come. I guess it takes a while for the hormones to kick in.

I got the nerve up and asked the customer if he could still have an orgasm. He smiled and said, "Yes."

He bent down and started going through his duffle bag. He pulled out a butt plug and some lube. He opened the lube and sqeezed out a glob on his hand. He reached around and appeared to be rubbing the lube on his bottom. He then put some lube on the plug and reached around again, working the plug into his behind. He took his other hand and started rubbing his mound of thick dark hair. His eyes closed a little and his mouth opened. I could tell that he was feeling some sensation.

I laid back and watched in awe. This was something that I had never seen before. My hands lightly glided up and down the inside of my thighs, resting now and then between my legs. The customer seemed to be in his own world now and did not need me to perform for him to come. He just needed me to watch.

He continued to rub his mound in a rythmic motion just like a woman. He seemed so vulnerable and I felt special in a way . . . like he trusted me.

The rubbing became more feverish and his face began to tighten a little. His body hunched forward and then relaxed as he let out a long sigh. Wow, could that have been it?, I thought to myself. I looked to see if there was any cum. I wondered if cum came out, or if that was all sealed off now.

I finally asked, "Did you come?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Does it feel the same," I asked.

"No, but it still feels good," he said.

I wanted to ask him a ton of questions, but didn't. He did tell me that he is able to go to the bathroom out of his urethra . . . that he doesn't have a catheter, but that cum doesn't come out when he has an orgasm.

He started to dress himself and thanked me for the show. I thanked him for being so open and then he left.

As I dressed, I mulled over what I had just witnessed.

For some reason, I felt closer to humankind.

Who Links Here

. . .