So there I was, holding my dick and balls in one hand and the flush lever in the other. How do you react to something like that? At least I didn't drop 'em. But you gotta look, right? So I raised them to eye level, or maybe a little lower.

There was no blood. The back of my separated package was perfectly covered in matching skin. I was still erect. No, my cock was still erect. It wasn't part of me anymore. I couldn't feel what it was feeling. My hand felt warm from it but I had no sense of what my dick was feeling. A cold hand, I suppose.

"Dude, it happened to you too, huh," said my friend Cliff. His dick had been falling off for over a month.

"Yeah, well, shit. I wasn't exactly hoping for this. Stop smiling, eh? Shit, this is weird. Now what do I do?"

"You probably need to shake out your clothes and then go to the nurse," Cliff suggested.

"What's with my clothes?"

"Don't you itch?" Cliff asked. "Usually your body hair comes loose too. You probably want to get it out. If you don't do it here, the nurse will make you do it."

I did itch, and so I headed for a stall.

"You want me to hold that for you?" Cliff offered.

"No, I don't want you holding my dick," I fired back, and then I closed the stall door.

What to do with it, though? I didn't want to set it on the floor. I could step on it, or kick it, or somebody could grab it from the next stall. I didn't want to set it on the toilet. It could fall on the floor or worse yet, I could flush it. Eventually I wedged it into the toilet paper holder.

My pants, my shorts, and my t-shirt were full of loose hair. More loose hair was stuck to my skin. I tried to brush it off and when I did, I found that my skin was as smooth as a girl's, perhaps even more so. Not even peach fuzz on my arms, my chest, my legs, my� oh shit!

My crotch was hairless too: hairless, dickless, ballless, featureless! And again there was no blood, just smooth skin matching the surrounding area. I puked. There I was in a washroom stall, kneeling on my itchy hair-filled clothes, puking with my dick in the toilet paper holder. I puked again.

Once more I checked out my crotch. Still nothing. I touched it. There was almost no feeling, certainly no more than touching my waist or hips. No familiar tightness. No familiar warmth. No itchy balls. Nothing. I almost cried then told myself to suck it up. If Cliff could stand it, I could stand it.

Carefully, carefully I shook most of the hair out of my clothes. I was afraid I'd brush my dick off the toilet paper holder and onto the floor. My jockey shorts still had lots of hair sticking to them, so I put them on inside-out. The jockey shorts bulged but I didn't. Shit!

"Are you OK in there?" Cliff asked through the door.

"Yeah, give me a minute," I called back, and then somehow I managed to get the rest of my clothes back on.

"What do I do with this?" I asked, holding up my newly separated package.

"Uh, I dunno, you got a lunch bag or something with you?"

"No," I stated, and then I looked in my backpack to be sure. I found an old hamburger wrapper and decided that would have to do.

"You might want to start bringing a bag or a box," Cliff suggested, "assuming, of course, that you're bringing your bits to school at all."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, a lot of stuff can happen. Guys try to take it from you, and sometimes girls, too. You might leave it behind somewhere. Whatever. Uh, look, you better head over to the nurse. If you get there after the bell, they think you're up to something."

The idea of leaving the washroom terrified me. What if somebody noticed I didn't have my stuff? What if they noticed I was flat down there? What if the hamburger wrapper slipped open? What if my stuff fell out? What about stupid hot dog jokes?

"Dude, you can't spend the rest of your life in here. Put your stuff in your backpack, if that's what you're worried about. Just get to the nurse."

"What if I crush it, or if it falls out?" I stammered.

"Chance you gotta take. That's why most guys leave them home. Now go!" Cliff urged, and so I did.

* * * * *

"My dick and balls came loose," I told the nurse.

"When, this morning? And was it the first time?"

I admitted it was, and then she asked where they were.

"Uh, here, I wrapped 'em up and put 'em in my backpack," I explained.

"Take them out please. Oh yes, I see. Well, I can do better than that," the nurse promised.

I hoped desperately that she was talking about the wrapper. Presently, however, she unfolded a paper carton and stuffed the bottom with cotton. It reminded me of the cartons they use for Chinese carryout. Sheepishly, carefully I dropped in my package.

"My advice is to leave it here," the nurse told me. "You can pick it up before you go home. I'll make sure nothing happens to it. Of course, you'll have to sign a release."

"How can this be happening? I hear that eventually it'll stay back on. Is that true?" I pleaded.

"No one knows how or why this is happening. The scientists and doctors are stumped. It seems physically impossible, but it's happening more and more. And yes, after a few days, it'll stay on for an hour or two -- just long enough to flush the junk out of its blood. Whenever it's done, it'll get erect and detach."

"What about sex?" I dared to ask.

"Even when it's disconnected, it'll still be erect," the nurse explained. "Someone can use it as a dildo, or you can try oral sex with it, or whatever. There's not much discharge, though, because the prostate gland stays behind. When it needs a flush it'll attach to almost anyone.

"If you like, you can let someone else try it out. Blood types don't matter. You can even let girls try it. But if you do pass it around, be careful. Sometimes they're hard to find again or get back."

"So if I leave my stuff here, how do I walk around school?"

"Like normal," the nurse replied in surprise. "Right, left, right, left. How did you think?"

"What if somebody notices I don't have a bulge?"

"Then they know you're like a lot of other guys. Some people like it and wear flat-fronted jeans or bicycle shorts. Some are even wearing kilts. Don't worry about it."

"How do I go to the bathroom?"

"Sitting down, and be sure to wipe. Do you want me to show you?"

"No, that's OK," I replied, and then the nurse wrote my name on the top of my little carton and set it on a table full of others. Finally, she gave me a note for returning to class.

"Oh, and Troy?" she called as I was leaving.

"Yes?"

"I realize there's no reason to zip up your fly anymore, but it's still customary to do it."

* * * * *

"Dude, did you get squared away?" Cliff asked between periods.

"Yeah, but I still feel weird walking around without my stuff. How do you stand it?"

"You get used to it," he replied. "After a while, it seems more comfortable. You forget how sensitive it is, and how much it flops around."

"Do people notice?"

"Yeah, sure, but they also notice your height, your weight, your hair, your eyes, lots of stuff. It's pretty common, you know."

True, I suppose it was, but I never really noticed it. I mean, what guy walks around looking at other guys' crotches? And although I'd known guys' packages were falling off, I'd been happier not thinking about it.

That day, however, dickless guys seemed to be everywhere. Some were dressed normally and some in flat-front jeans or shorts. One guy seemed to be wearing a tight little pair of white lycra short shorts. A few guys did have kilts on, although at least one looked more like a plaid skirt from the girls' department. I wondered how many guys had been dressing that way, and for how long, and how I'd missed them. It's funny how you zero in on people like yourself.

* * * * *

"Hi, Troy, did you have a good day at school?" my mom greeted me at home.

"Yeah, except my dick fell off," I glumly reported.

"Oh my, can I see?" she responded, and that was kind of weird.

"OK, it's right here. I've got it in� Oh shit! I left it at school!" I nearly screamed.

"Why don't you call and see if you can still pick it up?" she suggested.

I did, but by then the nurse had gone home and her office was locked. Shit!

"Well, I guess it'll be a couple of days before you can reattach it anyway. I'm sure it'll be safe in the nurse's office."

"Yeah, but Mom, I don't have my stuff!" I complained.

"According to my talk shows it's happening to a lot of boys. It happens to Cliff, right? I'm sure you'll be OK. Do you want some new clothes that won't be so, um, empty?"

"No. Mom, I'm not into that," I stated, and then I went to my room to drown my sorrows and jerk off. Unfortunately, that didn't work out so well.

* * * * *

My dad was travelling on business so Mom was free to cook spicy Italian. Dinner, therefore, was Italian sausage and meatballs. I really wasn't in the mood but ate it anyway. After dinner Mom went out shopping and then, at about eight o'clock, a girl named Noreen called me. I knew her vaguely from a youth group we'd been in together.

"Hi, Troy! How's it going? It seems like ages since we talked," she began melodiously.

"Uh, yeah, I guess it has been," I admitted. Frankly, I'd never liked her that much. She looked OK but she'd always been snooty with me and her parents were very strict.

"So what's new?" she inquired sweetly.

"Not that much," I lied, and then she paused.

"I heard your dick fell off today," she stated flatly.

"Who told you that?" I knew she hadn't noticed my new flatness herself. We went to different schools.

"I heard it from a friend of mine, whose sister heard it from someone at her school, who might've heard it from Cliff, or not. That's your friend, right? Cliff? I seem to remember you guys."

"Uh, yeah," I admitted. Cliff the blabbermouth. "So what?"

"Well, can I borrow it?"

I didn't feel like telling her I'd left it at school, so instead I asked, "Why would you want it?"

"My friend Mandy is here and we want to fool around. So could we borrow it? We'll give it back tomorrow, promise."

"Why didn't you make this offer last year, when we knew each other better?"

"My dad won't let me fool around with boys," Noreen explained.

"But loose dicks are OK?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, since when do parents make sense, huh? Anyway, they only spurt a little bit and we always put condoms on them. So can we borrow it?"

"Look, Noreen, this is all new to me. I'd rather keep my stuff where I know what's happening to it."

"You could stay and watch," she offered.

"I thought your dad doesn't let you fool around with boys."

"It's OK if they don't have their dicks on," she explained.

"Naw, I gotta wash my hair tonight," I improvised, and then she hung up.

* * * * *

Shortly after nine my mom came home with two pairs of flat-fronted blue jeans and a six-pack of cotton low-rise no-fly briefs. There were no back pockets, the front pockets were clearly for show, and the zipper was conspicuously on the side. I worried about taking them off to pee, but then remembered I'd have to anyway.

"I dunno, Mom. What if my stuff sticks on tomorrow?"

"The man at the store said it takes two or three days," she responded a bit too brightly, "and even then, it's only for a few hours. Why spend those hours sitting in English class or whatever?"

"Mom, you're always telling me not to do anything," I objected.

"Did you ever listen?" she replied.

* * * * *

Later I brushed my teeth, went to pee, went into shock, remembered, and grimly sat down. Usually I slept in boxers but the useless fly was kind of sad. After a while I took them off. The covers felt strange against my newly hairless skin. I missed jerking off. Eventually, though, I did get to sleep. Being on my stomach was remarkably comfortable.

* * * * *

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