His friend seemed pretty cool, so we got together more often to drink or play pool. A few weeks after I met him he asked if I wanted to go to a show with him the next town over. I had heard of the band before and heard they were good, so I said sure - it sounded like fun.

Me, Rory, and two other guys went. They seemed pretty cool - way more punk rock than me, a nineteen year old kid still fresh to the city. We all rode up together in Rory's beat up old station wagon to a smallish club on the outskirts of downtown named Cutter's. I had heard of the place but never been there. The other guys said they went up there every so often and it was a pretty cool place.

It was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked from out front. There was a sizable floor, decent stage, and even a balcony - the floor was a level down from where you entered, so it was like a basement where the first floor opened onto the balcony.

The first opening act was already on - a pretty good oi band. It was the first of four (Punk Rock: the discount genre, four bands for ten bucks). I managed to get a beer out of one of the bartenders that Rory knew, and after that just brought my bottle back up and all the others assumed that since I had a beer already, somebody had checked my ID and kept serving me.

After two beers I was soaked in sweat, so peeled my shirt off and stuck it in my back pocket. Only a few minutes afterward I realized I had lost it but couldn't find it. Rory and the other kids had taken theirs off, too, but the other two - Rat and Arsenal - had torn theirs off. I was impressed, anyway.

There were a lot of good looking guys here, and I was enjoying the music, the eye candy, and my rapidly diminishing sobriety. After the third band came on I had to piss so started looking around for a bathroom. I had found the bathroom earlier and there had been a pretty long line, so this time had come when I didn't have to go too badly yet. There wasn't a line in front of the bathroom I had gone into this time, but instead a longish one in front of the unmarked door next to it. I figured the men's room must be out of order since these guys in line looked nervously excited. I got in line at the end. Rat got in line right behind me and said something like, "Finally!" I couldn't hear him too well, so just smiled and nodded.

The line seemed to take forever - these dudes must have been the slowest pissers ever. It seemed like forever before a guy who had gone in came back out, zipping up his pants with a big relieved smile on his face. Just as the fourth band was about to start, Rory came by and we made eye contact. He gave me a big smile and a conspiriatorial wink, like he knew something that only he and I knew. Maybe he is gay, I thought. I should try to find out.

The fourth band came on. I hadn't heard much about them, just a few tracks, but they startled me by coming on completely naked. They were all pretty good looking guys, tattoos, decently built - especially the lead singer, who was fucking buff. Not too well hung, though; while I couldn't see that well it looked like he was tiny. None of them had a hair on them - shaven heads, pubes, eyebrows, everything. I couldn't see them too well, but by that point was first in line.

"It's good to be back at the Meat Market!" the guy screamed into the mike. "Any of you motherfuckers who haven't been to the closet need to fucking go!" The door opened and I went in as the guy continued. "Anybody in this room who still gotta..." I went in and the door shut behind me; I coudn't hear the rest. Inside the room were two guys in front of me in line. There was another door into the bathroom, and after a few minutes a guy emerged and Rat came in behind me.

"Damn, I'm glad I'm finally doing this," he said.

"Yeah, me too," I said back.

"Seems like I've been waiting my whole life."

"Yah, I know what you mean."

"Me and Arsenal didn't think you'd be into it," he said to me. I stepped up in line, next to go in.

"Up to what?"

"Ah, c'mon, you know!" His face held a look of incredulity.

I smiled. All three of them must be queer, I thought. They must have thought I was straight...I smiled. "I never thought it was a big deal."

"It is for me," he said, "but I'm glad to finally get it over with. I need to be rid of this." He grabbed his crotch.

I was confused momentarily, but the next guy stepped out so I went on in. "Good luck," Rat called after me.

I wasn't in a bathroom, that was for sure. The room I was in was clean and brightly lit. There were two raised metal tables. One had the guy who went in before me on it lying naked with his legs up in the air in stirrups. The only other people in the room were two shirtless guys in tight black shorts. One was attending to the dude on the guy on the table, and the other was looking at me impatiently. "Get your pants off, then," he said.

I was really confused. Was this some sex thing? I felt pretty intimidated, and Rat said this was something he was looking forward to so it couldn't be bad, right? I undid my shoes and tried to get a look at what was going on with the guy on the table. I could see the guy in his shorts drop something into a jar full of some yellowish looking liquid with what looked like pickles floating in it. The other guy, the one who had told me to get my pants off, was putting on a new pair of latex gloves.

I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants, my dick partially hard from needing to piss. "If you need to piss, use the toilet in there," he pointed. The guy must have read my mind. I went over there butt ass naked and relieved myself, then went back in. The guy on the table was standing up having his groin wrapped up. He had a bulge but it looked really small.

"Alright. Up on the table," the other guy told me.

I hesitated. I wasn't sure what was going on here, but Rory saw me in line - he knew what the line was for, right? And Rat talking about waiting forever for this...I so badly wanted them to think I was cool; what would they think if I bitched out of this now? I had to do it. It can't be that bad if they had done it; it was probably just a piercing or tattoo or something, right?

"Well, come on, now!" He seemed cross that I was taking so long.

"Sorry," I muttered, and strode over to the table, hopping up on the disposable cover and helping the guy get my feet in the stirrups. I was flat on my back, legs elevated and spread. I put my hands under my head so I could at least see what was happening. I had a twinge of doubt when he shot my crotch up with anesthetic but suppressed it.

The other guy left and Rat sauntered in. He had his pants halfway off by the time he got in, and the other guy in shorts had to tell him to hold on while he changed gloves and put a new piece of paper on the table.

I was getting really nervous. Should I tell him to stop? I wondered. No, I couldn't now...not with Rat in the room; he'd know I pussed out. He was getting whatever it was done; I could do it. All I had to do was lay here and let the guy do whatever he was going to do..

He brought out a tool that looked like a styrofoam cutter - a handle, attached to a wide U-shaped piece of curved wire. The wire glowed orange-hot - a self cauterizer, I guessed. Maybe they were branding us. He lifted up my cock and positioned the wire about half an inch from the base.

The moment I realized what he was go to do, he glided it through the base of my penis like a hot knife through butter, leaving a tiny little rounded stub. I could smell the burning flesh but still felt nothing. He lay my cock, now sealed off at the end, on my chest. "You want to keep it?"

Rat broke in. "Keep it, dude, Rory knows this guy who'll mount it for you." He then grimaced as his own penis came off.

"I...I guess I'll keep it." I was trying not to hyperventilate or faint straight up.

He had me stand. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I feel fine." And I did. Weird, but I wasn't in pain. The guy knelt down and wrapped up my crotch, winding gauze around my waist and under my groin to hold it in place. "Take it easy out there."

"I'll see you back out there, man," Rat said. The guy was wrapping him up.

"Yah, see you in a bit." I pulled up my pants and headed back out past all the guys waiting in line.

Walking with a numb groin felt pretty weird. I made my way just outside the door and waited for Rat to come out. He smiled when he saw me.

"Man, I'm so glad I finally did that. None of us thought you would." He slapped me on the back. "Pretty cool, dude."

"Uh, yeah." I managed a weak smile.

"You feel okay?" He didn't wait for me to answer, but continued, "Here, let's go siddown over here." We walked slowly over to a ratty couch in a dark corner. "Let's just sit here for a while; I don't want to fuck up my wrapping." That was fine with me. I sat in the corner seat and Rat sat down right next to me. We talked a little bit, but it was so loud we had to get right up in each other's ear to hear anything.

After a lull in conversation, Rat leaned over. I cocked my head toward him to hear what he wanted to say, but instead of saying anything he put his arms around my head and pulled me into a long, deep kiss.

That was like a watershed. All my nervousness and general freakedoutness from the whole evening came out of me in a good half hour makeout session with Rat. I pushed him down on the couch and we lay there together kissing and playing with nipples, feeling up asses, but staying firmly away from the crotch area. People walked by but I don't even think they noticed us in the dark, or if they did, they didn't care.

We were so busy getting it on that we didn't even notice the show end. The band played an encore and the lights came on. We stood up, still sticky with sweat and spit, and caught sight of Rory and Arsenal. "C'mon, there they are," Rat told me, and I followed him over to them.

"What did you think?" Rory asked us.

"Fuckin' awesome," Rat blurted out.

"Good show," I replied.

General assent all around. "Let's get you two out to the car before the shot wears off," Arsenal commented. I could already feel a dull ache in my groin, and when I walked it hurt a little more.

We headed off to the car. Rory told us along the way, "You two will be a lot more comfy if you lie in the back with your pants off, so they don't rub against the gauze." He and Arsenal sat in the front, and neither of us had a problem lying mostly naked together in the back of the car. We just lay there mostly, talking and cuddling and making out a little bit. The way the gauze was wrapped, our balls were hanging out, so we sort of played with them some too.

About halfway home, Arsenal yelled from the front, "You guys did keep your dicks, right?"

"Yeah," we replied.

"Can I see 'em?"

"Sure..." we dug our cocks out of the pockets of our pants and handed them up.

"I'm gonna stick them in this thermos; it'll preserve 'em better."

"What are you going to do with them?" I asked him.

"I know this guy who'll pump 'em full of fluid and then preserve them. Most everybody that goes to Dooley's keeps them on the wall o' dicks there for when we have parties upstairs."

"They have parties upstairs? Wall of dicks?"

"You never knew about it because nobody's allowed up there who has a penis. Most of the guys in town who've had the cut hang at Dooley's. Every few weeks we all go up there, take our dicks off the wall, and fuck around. Otherwise we usually leave them all there for safekeeping. You should see the hallway, man, there's almost three hundred cocks up there now from the last twenty years."

Wow, I thought. "That's a lot of guys in town without cocks."

"Yeah. There's about forty still in town."

"They all hang at Dooley's?"

"Pretty much. The bartenders and owner are all cut, pretty much all the regulars. A few other guys."

I imagined all the guys I'd seen down there naked with little stubs. I had to admit, I was a pretty hot idea. "Man, I gotta ask, though. How do I fuck like this?"

Everybody laughed. Rory answered this one. "You don't."

"So what do you do?"

"Once it heals up you can rub it, but you won't feel much through it. You can get fucked up the ass or play with your balls if you're desperate, but if you keep having orgasms then you're kinda missing the point."

"I think I'm already missing the point," I said, my confusion evident.

Arsenal broke in. "You mean you got your dick cut off and you don't know why?" He let out a deep throaty laugh. "You're one crazy motherfucker, Conan." My dad had been really into Arnold movies when I was born. I never use that name, but after I told them what my middle name was I couldn't get Arsenal to stop calling me by it.

Rat explained it to me as he lay on my shoulder. "The idea is that you have all this energy you devote to sex all the time, right? You think about it or you have it or whatever. The thing is, without a useful penis the only real way to use that energy sexually is through anal sex. The problem there is that the only people you wouldn't feel embarrassed showing your stub to are people who can't really fuck you. So, instead you put all that energy into something else - music, work, exercise, art, school, whatever. Everybody I know who's had it done says that after a few months you don't think about sex anymore. That's why when they do have those sex parties at Dooley's the only people who go are people who got cut recently."

That made it sound downright positive. Rat continued, "Some people end up having their balls out , too, but..."

Arsenal and Rory interrupted him and shouted, "Fucking sellouts!" in unison.

"Without yer nuts the tension goes away. Cuttin' them off is like fuckin' giving up!" Arsenal lectured.

"The trick," Rory said, "Is to make sure you have something to devote that energy to, or you just turn into a frustrated asshole. Of course, some people are assholes anyway." He lightly punched Arsenal in the shoulder.

"Fuck you." He punched him back.