BULL BALLS

Chapter 7

The scalpel entered his tightly-stretched flesh with almost no resistance.  I drew it in a circle around the little thing, being careful to not cut the tubing.  Almost before either of us had drawn a second breath, the flesh parted and his dick slid about an inch up the tubing as it responded to the pulling of the first cord.  The blood that had been trapped in his little erection spurted onto my hand, but luckily the rest of it fell on the towel.

Without a glance at him, I slid his severed pecker off the tubing, untied the lace, and dropped the useless tube of skin on the towel.  It was only then that I realized he was saying something, and as I looked at his face, could hear him whispering over and over, "Thank you.  I love you so much.  Thank you."  There were actually tears in his eyes, and I could tell from his expression they were tears of joy.  He was at last free of that part of his body that had caused him so much pain for so many years.

When the last drops of blood had drained from the remaining shaft of his penis, I used the towel to wipe it clean.  I carried the towel to the bathroom and dropped it on the countertop.  After washing my hands,  I returned to him the second time, carrying a wet washcloth that I used to further clean any traces of blood.

I open the tube of Derma-Gel and squeezed some of the contents onto the wound, then smoothed the stuff with one finger, making sure everything was covered in a thick coating.  The compound was another product my laboratory had developed recently, again at the request of a customer.  In this case, the customer was a surgical hospital that had a pressing need for something that would seal a wound, and at the same time function as artificial skin until healing took place.  Again, something I'd developed was the answer to a need my husband and I had.  That made me proud.

The Derma-Gel required about five minutes to set, and when it did it would be bonded securely to his flesh.  I knew I'd have to wait that long before releasing the second boot lace, so used the time to get a couple of sleeping pills and a glass of water from the bathroom.  Even though he protested, I made him swallow the pills, and then we both stared in fascination at the severed end of his shaft.  In my mind, I was seeing his bag without the little squirrel's nose marring its beauty, and was anxious to untie the cord and let the thing recede out of sight.

Finally the time was up, and I told him to raise up again and hold his thingie in place while I untied the cord.  He did so with slow movements, and I could tell the pills were beginning to take effect.  I very carefully released the lace, watching intently for the slightest sign of bleeding from the wound.  To my intense satisfaction, the Derma-Gel held just as it was designed to, and once again I felt an intense pride.

I had tried my best to cut his shaft at the place that would allow it to be about one inch beneath the surface of his bag when hard.  Since it was now beginning to soften as the sleeping pills took effect, it receded even farther than that.  As it slipped from sight, there is no way to tell you the overwhelming pleasure that swept through my body.  You see, as the remains of his pecker disappeared, the bag began to close around it.  In just a few seconds, there was almost no evidence of the hole, other than the tubing, and I gazed in joy at his almost-unblemished scrotum.

I quickly removed the pipe and the chairs, then covered Ted with the sheet and blankets.  He was by then just barely able to hold his eyes open, and as I leaned down to kiss him good night, he whispered emotionally, "I love you with all my heart.  Thank you."  Those were his last words that night, and he fell into a deep sleep.

I cleaned up the mess in the bathroom, letting the towel soak in cold water so the stain wouldn't set permanently in it.  As I left for the guest bedroom, where I would spend the night, I carried his penis in my hand.  With every step I took, the fire in my crotch seemed to grow by leaps and bounds.  By the time I had settled under the covers of the bed, I could no longer delay my orgasm, and dropped one hand to my pussy as the other held his severed cock in front of my eyes.

I can't say the orgasm I had then was the best ever, because it wasn't.  However, it was very, very good.  I just barely remember dropping the little tube of flesh on the nightstand and turning off the lamp before falling into a deep sleep of my own.
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As soon as I got out of bed the following morning, I hurried to our bedroom to check on my husband.  He was still sleeping soundly, and looked as if he had never moved.  I very carefully peeled back the covers to check his crotch, and was almost overcome with fresh arousal as I saw his bag.  There was almost no evidence of the hole where his cock had once been, except for the tiny plastic tube just barely sticking out.  Other than that, the entire sac was unblemished, laying displayed in all its glory.  It was almost more than I could do to not drop to my knees and kiss and caress the wonderful, beautiful thing, but I was at last able to control my urges.  After carefully covering him, I tiptoed out of the room, and went to prepare breakfast for myself, and a snack for him when he was ready.

I dressed in the guest bedroom to avoid disturbing Ted, all the while staring at the disgusting, shrunken thing laying on the nightstand.  It was almost more than I could do to at last pick it up and carry it to the bathroom.  As I flushed the toilet, watching as the little thing swirled around before disappearing forever, I whispered a final good-bye.  What I really should have said was, "Good riddance!"  That's more how I felt, and I'm sure my husband thought the same.

I had a leisurely breakfast while reading the morning newspaper, then checked once again on the sleeper.  He was still sound asleep, so I closed the bedroom door and returned to the kitchen to work on my next surprise for him.  It took almost half an hour to prepare it, but it was time well spent.
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The next time I looked in on my husband, he was stirring.  I walked to the bedside and waited until his eyes opened, and then focused on me.  I saw comprehension dawning in his eyes, and stood unspeaking as he collected his thoughts.

The first conscious act he performed was to lift the covers and stare at his crotch.  He said in a husky whisper, "It's all true, isn't it?  It's really gone.  I was afraid it was just a dream.  Thank God it really happened."

I took the covers from his hands and peeled them all the way back, exposing his nearly-smooth bag to both our eyes.  I dropped to my knees beside the bed, unable to delay any longer the kisses and caresses that longed for release.  Over and over I gazed at the wonderful thing, seeing it almost intact, and knowing that as soon as he had healed more, I could remove the tubing and allow the hole to close completely.  That would be the culmination of all my hopes and dreams, and my husband would at last be the perfect man.  I tried to tell myself to be patient, but it was almost more than I could do to not jerk the tubing from his stump in order to satisfy my longing.

Ted said he needed to pee, and I helped him to get out of bed.  He didn't need my help to walk to the bathroom, but I went with him anyway.  He had obviously thought of the correct procedure, and simply bent the tubing downward to aim his stream into the toilet bowl.  I knew that when I removed the thing in a few days, he'd have to adopt a new technique, but I had already been planning for that, and was sure we could handle it.

He was still weak, and I made him get back in bed.  When I asked him if he wanted something to eat, he smiled and said, "I'd really like to eat you, honey.  Would you let me do that?"

I just smiled, then said, "You can eat me all you want when you're stronger, lover.  I was thinking of something a little more nutritious right now.  You just lie here quietly and I'll go get something special for you."  With that I left the room and walked to the kitchen to get what I'd prepared for him earlier.

I warmed his snack in the microwave and then put everything on a dinner plate.  I carried that and a glass of water back to the bedroom, and before entering the room, said, "Close your eyes.  I have a surprise for you.  Don't open them until I tell you to."

I looked around the edge of the door and saw he had clamped his eyes tightly closed.  After walking quietly to the bed, I placed the dish on his chest, then said, "Okay.  Open wide.  See what I have for you to eat."

His eyes opened, and he stared fixedly at the plate.  I heard him gasp, and then try to form the words to ask his question.  Finally he whispered, "Is that really it?"

What he saw on the plate was a piece of Vienna sausage about 3/4" in diameter and 4" long.  I had worked about half an hour on carving one end of it until it was almost identical in appearance to how his penis used to look.  It was laying on a leaf of lettuce, with a dollop of catsup beside it.  A steak knife had been placed on one side of the plate, and a fork on the other.  All-in-all, I thought it was very well done.  Judging by his stunned reaction, he seemed to share my opinion.

He finally tore his eyes away from that entrancing sight, and looked at my face for confirmation.  I said off-handedly, "Better eat it before it gets cold, sweetie.  Try the head first.  That's supposed to be the most tender part."

With trembling hands he picked up the knife and fork, then used them to cut the "head" free.  He stabbed it with the fork, dipped it lightly in the catsup, and brought it to his slowly-opening mouth.  At last the thing reached its target, and his lips closed around it.  He pulled the fork from his mouth, and began to very slowly and deliberately chew the morsel.

I saw his throat working as he swallowed, and then with no further prompting he sliced the next section off the sausage.  He repeated those simple actions until the entire thing had been eaten, and by that time the tears of joy were running down his cheeks.  At last he said, "I've dreamed of doing that for most of my life.  I can't believe I actually did it.  You did it for me, and I love you so much I can't think straight.  Thank you."

I took the plate from him, and handed him the glass of water so he could drink from it.  After returning it to the table, I hugged him closely before asking, "Did it taste as good as you'd hoped?"

With no hesitation, he answered, "It was the best thing I've ever eaten.  You gave me the best birthday present any man has ever had."

I knew then that I'd never tell him what it really was he'd eaten.  He seemed to need to believe that he'd actually eaten his own penis, and I would never do anything to change that belief.   For my part, it didn't make any difference.  I had eyes only for his marvelous bag, and knew it would be the center of our lives for years to come.  At last I had my perfect bull.
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It's been a couple of months since the above events took place.  Ted is completely healed, and the tubing has been removed from his little stub.  He's learned how to pee without making a horrible mess, but it's a pretty comical thing to watch.  He says when he does that at work, he always goes into one of the stalls in the restroom and locks the door.  I don't blame him, since it'd be pretty embarrassing for anyone to watch the gyrations he goes through to stretch the remains of his penis enough to get it outside his bag.

I have become even more in love with his scrotum than I ever thought possible.  Even when his little stump is hard, it's still below the surface of his bag, and doesn't mar its appearance.  I can't believe I ever had any second thoughts about cutting that worthless little tube off him, and wish I'd done it much sooner.  Oh, well.  We're young yet, so there'll be lots of years to enjoy our new lives.

My pride in my husband is greater than ever before, of course.  I just wish every other woman in the world could see him, so they'd know just what a perfect bull he is.  I've thought of just that for quite some time now, and have finally arrived at a partial solution.

When summer comes, we're going to drive up to Vancouver, Canada.  As you've probably already guessed, our destination will be Wreck Beach.  I can't wait to parade him around naked, watching the jealous glances of everyone there.  When the other women see him, they'll know my man is simply the best bull in the world.  They'll be green with envy, won't they?

The End