“That’s about all for today, gentlemen,” I said, checking my watch.  My audience consisted of twenty Hoffine law students.  It was an invitational lecture and I’d invited the twenty most marginal male students, those in the cellar, and offered them some badly needed extra credit points for their Torts class.  The last lecture on Friday afternoon is always a killer so I’d purposely cut this one short.  “For next week I’d like you t to ponder this question:  What are your balls worth?  I mean, really.  If you had to put a value on them just how much would your testicles be worth?”

            “Think about it,” I continued.  “Just two small lumps of tissue that all males are born with and that many would be better off without.  What are they worth?  I don’t mean to an old man who has already fulfilled his parental desires or obligations, or to a horny young adolescent, new to the game and trying to prove himself. The old man might say that they are now useless and have little value, while the teenager would no doubt regard them as being priceless.”  There were a few titters from the group of men, all aged twenty to thirty, and a few had reflexively covered their crotches with their hands or notebooks, but at least I had their full attention.  “I mean, ordinary people like yourselves,” I said, slowly scanning the group.  “Some married, some single, probably even some gay.”  More titters.  “What kind of monetary value would you assign to your ability to reproduce or to validate yourself as a man?

            “It’s not exactly like a hand or a finger or a foot or a leg or an eye is it?”  I postulated.  “I mean, those limbs have functions and are no less important, but they can be directly related to a person’s lifetime earning potential and therefore have a value that can be reasonable quantified.  Insurance companies and compensation agencies have set sums that they pay for the loss of those appendages and functions and juries can easily be shown the financial relevance of their loss, but a guy’s balls are different.”

            “Sooner or later you may have a client who has suffered just such a loss.  Perhaps it was a vehicular mishap, or an industrial accident, or possible even a deliberate act of malice.  Assume he hasn’t been injured in any other way.  He doesn’t have visible scars that scare children, nor does he have an apparent disability.  He isn’t a porn star nor is he a gigolo so there is no loss of income involved, nor is he in the habit of running around naked so there are no public humiliation issues.   How much are his testicles really worth?”

            “ Think about it and prepare a brief that states and defends the monetary value that you would wish a jury to award you in case you had suffered such a loss,” I challenged.   “Please provide all supporting evidence of your claim, and don’t bother rushing to the law library to research precedent: There isn’t any.  You must support your claim with arguments based on realistic expectations, not fantasies.  Disregard any pain and suffering that may have been incurred during their loss; that trauma will be a separate line item claim should such a situation ever come to trial, and assume that all medical costs to stabilize your condition have already been paid.  Focus only on the permanent aspects posed by the loss of your testicles themselves.  Please drop your briefs off in my office no later than 8 AM Wednesday, and we’ll meet again next Friday to discuss these claims.  Have a nice weekend.”  I gathered my notes and strode from the auditorium before any of the boneheads could challenge me. 

           It was Friday afternoon and I knew that most would forego their weekend parties and work through the weekend on the assignment.  The extra points were crucial to most for graduation.   A few of the marginal students would eventually make fine lawyers, but most wouldn’t stand a chance of passing the bar examinations needed to become practicing attorneys and would wind up in low paying dead end jobs working for insurance companies or as research aides to real lawyers.  Such is life in law school.

            Wednesday is an office day for me and I spent all day reading the twenty briefs.  About half dealt only with the loss of sexual ability, and these guys all put a dollar value on screwing.   Most were similar to that of a kid named Winsor who claimed that his current activity amounted to five times a week.  He assigned a value of fifty dollars to each of these copulations, and determined that he would maintain that activity for at least the next five years, for a sub total of sixty five thousand dollars.  Once married he expected he would taper off to three times a week and that he would be able to maintain that level of activity for the next thirty years, bringing the total to two hundred and ninety-nine thousand dollars, which he thoughtfully adjusted for inflation, determining that his balls had a value of six hundred and eleven grand.  Five times a week?  No wonder he was in the cellar.  Any guy that’s been married for thirty years could tell this kid a thing or two.

            The guy farthest out in left field claimed to be engaged to the daughter of a wealthy Greek shipping tycoon.  His future father-in-law had so much as promised him two million dollars for each kid they produced, and he and his future wife were practically guaranteed that they would inherit the entire empire upon the old man’s demise.  Without his balls the marriage would not happen and he estimated that his total loss would be in excess of fourteen billion dollars.  His high hopes didn’t earn him many extra credit points.

            Mr. Martin carefully itemized all expenses.  He had estimates for surgery to rebuild his scrotum and install prosthetic testicles, which he claimed was necessary for his mental well being, and he also listed psychiatric treatments to deal with his loss.  He was planning on obtaining regular hormone treatments to restore any loss of function and he listed the estimated long-term cost of these and other treatments specific to his castration.  He planned on remaining sexually active so he didn’t place a value on lost ability, and he even subtracted an amount from his total for contraceptives that he would no longer require.  His brief was so well thought out and logical that I wondered why he wasn’t ranked higher in the class.  Maybe the hundred extra credit points I gave him would help.

            There were others that focused only on emotional issues and listed some astronomical sums that were impossible to justify, but the last one in the pile, submitted by Mr. Thorton, was the one that really got my attention and I had to read it through a couple of times before I was finished.

            “Well, gentlemen, I see that quite a few of you place a high value on your ability to copulate,” I said as soon as the class was seated and had quieted down.  “That’s okay, but you may be in for some disappointments a little bit later in life.  Now, let’s take these briefs one by one.”  I proceeded to list the salient points of each, pointing out both the strong points as well as the fallacies of their arguments, and after two hours time we had dissected each of the briefs except for the last one submitted.  I dismissed the class, except for Mr. Thorton, and as soon as the others had left the room I asked him to take a seat.

          “Quite an impressive brief, Mr. Thorton,” I told the blushing young man.  “I hope you don’t mind me not sharing it with the rest of the class.” Mr. Thorton was a slender, rather effeminate young man who had always seemed a little strange to me, if you know what I mean.

            “Thank you, Professor,” the young man responded.

            “Then this brief is factual?”  I asked.  “You would really pay someone to castrate you?”

            “Yes sir.  It’s just as I stated.  I have just been diagnosed with a cancer in both of my testicles and the only way to save my life is to have them surgically removed.  I know it isn’t typical of the situation you wanted us to evaluate, but it is indeed my own situation.”

            “I’m not totally clear on just how you calculated the amount of your proposed settlement,” I said.

            “The doctors have told me the cost of the surgery would be approximately three thousand dollars, and that the follow up treatments would be another two thousand.  My insurance won’t cover either as elective surgery, even to save my life, but if were to become castrated as a result of mishap they would cover all of the treatment, so I figure that if I paid someone a thousand dollars that I could save money in the long run.”

            I felt my dick beginning to get a little stiff, and the tent in his trousers was also apparent.  “Wouldn’t the pain be a factor?”  I asked.

            “Pain doesn’t bother me as much as it does some people,” he responded, “ particularly when my career is at stake. The cost of the surgery would force me to quit school.”

            “What would you say if someone offered to do the job for free?”  I asked, barely able to contain my erection in my trousers.

            “I would be the happiest guy on campus,” he replied.  By now it looked like his tent pole was ready to bust through the tent.

            “Please come by my home tonight after seven,” I said, writing down my address for him. 

            “I don’t know how to thank you, Professor,” the young man said earnestly, as he rose to leave.  “Maybe I can do something nice for you some day.  Oh by the way, how many extra credit points am I getting?”

            “I haven’t decided yet but I’m sure you won’t be disappointed,” I said, leading him to the door.