My Balls

At first I attributed this to my job. I am a Third Engineer, or basic engine room flunky on a sea-going towboat. We leave port, work sixteen hours a day for two weeks and then have the next two weeks off. I am sexually active, and like to have sex or at least masturbate daily, and this new job prevented that.

Most of you aren't familiar with tugboats and don't know how little room there is in one. They have huge engines, and the rest of the boat is mostly fuel tanks. There are seven men on the crew, and only the Skipper and Chief Engineer have their own staterooms. The rest of us bunk together in the crew's berthing compartment. It isn't polite to masturbate in a common sleeping area, and asking the Skipper or Chief to use his cabin for a while to beat your meat is something that a guy shouldn't do. The restroom, or what we call the head is small and cramped, and we don't pack enough fresh water for long showers. Even the young unmarried men like myself are expected to hold it untill we get back to port, where we can fuck all we want to or beat our meats into a pulp if we choose.

I figured that two weeks of abstinance followed by two weeks of debauchery might be causing a problem. I was aware of things like testicular cancer, so when they got to be USDA Jumbo I went to the doctor. He checked me out, gave me a prostate finger check, and more or less just brushed me off, saying that he didn't think there was a problem and that I was just well endowed.

They were the size of lemons a couple of months later and started to be a problem, as they bulged out in my pants and made it awkward for me to work. I also din't like the way that guys looked at me as if I was a fag who stuffed my pants to impress people. It was also getting hard to sleep, as they pulled all of the time unless I wore tight underwear to bed.

The lady that I had been living with split, saying that I was some kind of freak or something. Sex was starting to get difficult anyway, as my balls kept getting bruised and kept me from getting full penetration. It was extremely uncomfortable to walk around my apartment nude, as they would bounce so much, so I finally made an appointment with a specialist.

"I've seen pictures of Elephantitus victims," I told the urologist,"could this be something like that?"

"No. Elephantiasis is the correct term. and it is caused by a mosquito-spread filaria that is only found in the tropics, and can't be a problem here. We'll do a needle biopsy. That should tell us what we are dealing with."

He then gave me a finger wave in the ass (you young guys laugh, but take my advice and select your doctor based on his finger size) and sent me off to the lab for a sperm sample before doing the biopsy.

"Well," The doctor said, "there is nothing wrong with the tissue sample, no abnormalities in the cell structure, and no sign of fluids or parasites. Your testicles are all normal testicle tissue and nothing else. The only thing odd is your sperm count, as it is about four times what a normal man should have, although there is no harm in that."

"What options do I have, Doctor?" I asked.

"We can wait and see what happens. They may return to normal without treatment. We can also get you in to see the super-specialists at the medical school if you have the time for that."

I needed to work, and he didn't seem to enthusiastic about the medical school, so I made up a supporter with an oversized pouch and suspenders and tried to tough it out. I did all right for another month, but then they got so big that I just couldn't handle it and had to report myself as being disabled and go on worker's comp. It was embarrassing as hell to have to tell the Skipper that I couldn't work because my nuts werethe size of a boar hog's.

By now I couldn't even walk naked without supporting them with my hands, and they were so heavy that I was afraid that I would injure myself, so I agreed to go the the medical school. That was a huge disappointment. All they did was run every student in the place by to give me a digital prostate check. There are a lot of women training to be doctors now, and most of them couldn't even keep a straight face as they felt me up, and the men were all laughing behind my back at my condidtion. They all treated me like a circus freak and didn't seem to have a clue or a care as to what was wrong with my nuts, so I left and came back home.

A month after that they got so big that I couldn't even sit on the toilet to shit, so I went back to the urologist.

"The only option left is surgery." He said.

They should have suggested that in the first place, I thought. Just go in there and reduce the size of them, and do it again if they keep growing.

"Not quite." He said. Testicles aren't like a figer that you can cut part off of and have the rest work. If you remove any part of a testicle the whole gland will die. Surgery will involve complete removal of both gonads. We can insert silicone prostheses of any size you desire and give you hormone supplements that will let you function as a normal man. A wife or girlfriend wouldn't know the difference unless you told her. Fatherhood won't be possible of course. You could preserve your semen for future use, but I wouldn't recommend it, as your condition may be hereditary."

The operation was a success, and I am back at work. My silicone falsies look perfectly natural, and no one but the doctor and his staff know that I am a eunuch. My sex life, thanks to the patches that I wear, is as good as it ever was. My balls were each the size of a football when they cut them out, and they are probably still on display somewhere.