Set Free Parts 4, 5 & 6

Set Free Part 4

I limped around the room,.....my left arm hanging beside me

...it was strangely

still but I could still feel it, it just would not move.

My left ankle was causing some discomfort....it was immobile in

the plaster

and at an odd angle....

My dad spent a few minutes sitting with me reassuring me

everything would be

all right.

My shoulder was sore where the doctor had made the incision and

my ankle

just ached. Dad sat looking at my distorted form still encased

in the braces with my

back and shoulders still stooped.

My left arm I realised had been permanently stilled.

Dr. Fuentes came in and spoke to dad in Spanish as they

examined my genitals.

I had no idea what they were saying but I knew the topic of

discussion was surgery.

After a few minutes dad wheeled me to the car. Dad and the

John, the male nurse

helped me into the car. Gently adjusting the seat to make me as

comfortable

as possible. The doctor and dad stood talking for sometime

before shaking hands warmly.

As we drove off I just knew that we would return to this

strange clinic.

We arrived home and I struggled through the door ...my ankle

was still in

plaster and twisted at a 45 degree angle inwards. The doctor

had released

the ligaments to create the twisted foot. Never again would I

be

able to walk properly... bit by bit I was becoming my dad's

crippled young son.

My arm hung limply at my side ....useless.

My dad was taking control of my destiny and we both knew I

wanted it ...

He tightened my lower teeth braces again, firmly pushing my jaw

back into an underbite.

My skin received another dose of the cream and it began to itch

and feel

hot almost immediately. The first steps towards my

re-fashioning were almost over.

But dad had more in mind and began to talk about was to come.

He explained that

genital revision surgery was next as he couldn't be happy in

the long term,

with a young son who was very obviously sexually mature and

precocious.

He needed a boy who was probably at the onset of puberty -

certainly not

showing any secondary sexual characteristics. I was scared but

knew it would happen.

A few weeks later my new dad removed the plaster cast as

directed by the

doctor. My foot seemed slightly pink and withered as well. The

boot went back

on and cliched on to the caliper as dad started getting me to

walk.

I could put my weight on without it hurting but walking

normally was not possible. The leg caliper immobilised my knee

but the

twisted ankle meant every step was a sort of shuffle.

And my useless arm made balance a bit difficult too.

Dad had taken to feeding me ...he said I needed to get used to

being fed.

At dinner times, I would sit at the table with a bib,while dad

would chop and mash up

the very small meal and spoon-feed me.My deformed bite made

things difficult.

It felt funny at first but it became natural after a while and

so much

easier than struggling with only one useful hand. I told him

that I was usually

hungry and could eat more. He reminded me that I was to be a

slender young lad.

When I had come to him I had weighed 63 kilos. Last night in

the bathroom,

after the usual wash, enema and the "genital hygiene"

routine he seemed to

enjoy, he had weighed me and told me I was down to 50 kilos and

there were

only five more to come off. Muscle wasting would take care of

the rest !

Every day saw a program of being washed, dressed and having the

braces

tightened and straps adjusted. Most evenings, following an

enema, dad entered my

anus and gave me his sperm. The experience had now become very

pleasantfor me.

He explained that any sexual pleasure, would in future, be

associated by me, only

with my dad's penis and my ability to please it.

Every few days the teeth braces were tightened and

the recession of my jaw increased a little more. Tightening of

the straps and

adjustment of the four chest rods were making my spinal

curvature more severe.

Dad had had my long straight hair trimmed short, with a boyish

fringe across

my forehead. My face had visibly changed as the skin cream

had completed its work.

My face was now a field of acne scars....red and ugly but dad

had enjoyed washing my

face and dabbing extra cream on and checking the progress as

the acne scarred

my face, ruining my skin permanently. One awful evening, he

crept quietly into

my bedroom and caught me stroking my exposed penis. I had been

torturing myself

increasingly often, by masturbating to the edge of ejaculation.

The next morning,

following a telephone discussion with Dr. Fuentes, he packed

the car again

and placed me in the front seat.

We headed south ....once more ...to visit the strange

doctor for Stage Two...

On arrrival, I was gown and put in the same bed by Nurse

John. Dad came

in and opened a small box saying "here is your special

present". He showed me

what looked like two small, somewhat wrinkled pink birds eggs.

"Do you know

what they are?" he asked. "No idea, I said"

"these are silicone rubber foam

testicle prostheses. Dr. Fuentes was brought a thirteen year

old boy last

week, whose father wanted him castrated before his puberty

really started.

Plaster casts were made and these were moulded from them. We

have an exact replica,

and you will be fitted with them in the morning."

"What good will they be for me"

I asked." Dad said "they are exactly right for the

thirteen year old boy I want.

Those oversized testicles of yours will be discarded. There

will then be no sperm,

no testosterone, no messy oozing and these will look beautiful

in a

reduced scrotum. They'll look and even feel exactly right"

"Each morning for the next week, there will be an

hour of electrolysis. Both

armpits, two sessions for the pubic hair and a final session to

clear the few

hairs on the perineum and anal area. Clean and totally smooth.

Back to boyhood.

Don't worry about tomorrow's surgery. We have decided to let

you have limited local

anaethesia. But you must watch. Now get some sleep" He

kissed me and left.

The familiar feelings of apprehension, anticipation and

excitement led to

another throbbing and oozing erection.

Early the next morning, John brought the trolley and took

me to the theatre.

I was placed on the table and my legs were placed on to two leg

boards which were

then swivelled widely apart to fully expose my genitals. For

the first time, my leg

caliper for gently unstrapped and removed. The thick padded

leather ring encircling the

top of my thigh would have been in the way.I couldn't believe

how pathetic my left

leg looked. The thigh and calf muscles had wasted and the knee

was still swollen.

They put light fibreglass splinting around the knee. I was told

to watch in the

large mirror attached to the operating light. They

swabbed the whole genital area with an antiseptic and Dr.

Fuentes drew a

stool up and sat between my legs.He injected a local into the

skin of my

scrotum,explaining that it was to be a limited subcutaneous

numbing as my Dad, who, masked, gowned and watching, had

requested that I experience

the sensation of severing the spermatic cords.

The doctor made a wide incision across the width of the the

scrotal skin and then,

with scissors, removed a generous elliptical section of tissue

from the lower border

of the incision, which he discarded. Within a few moments, I

saw a testicle slowly

drop down through the gaping opening. He held it firmly and

applied traction to the

cord which lengthened considerably as a terrible ache spread

right across my abdomen.

When he had exposed all the cord he could withdraw,

he clamped it high, near it's source, with artery forceps,

generating a new sharp pain.

I couldn't help it, I screamed. He tied it off, picked up the

scissors and severed it.

The stump of the cord immediately retracted up out of sight.

He placed the testicle in a kidney dish and proudly showed it

to my dad, who

picked it up and threw it into the refuse bin. There was

discussion about the inappropriate size. The whole cycle was

repeated with my

remaining gland and then I could see that my bleeding scrotum

was flat and empty.

He took the sterilised silcone foam rubber prostheses and

pushed them well up into

the top of the sac. Suturing the edges of the large incision,

drew the scrotum

snugly up and around it's now much reduced, contents. Despite

what I had been

told, I was surprised to see just how small, smooth and neat my

new testicles appeared.

Dad told the doctor, that appearance was just what he had

wanted and as anyone could

now see, I was well on the way to having the genitals of a

thirteen year-old.

My leg stayed splinted and I was sent back to bed in my

room. Dad came to visit

several times and made a point of pulling back the sheets and

staring at my little

scrotum. He told me that the Mexican lady electrolysist would

be spending an hout

with me each morning. He told me that electrolysis was painful

and that I should try

to enjoy it. I asked why it would be painful. Dad explained

that a fine needle was

pushed deep into the follicle at the base of each hair and then

a small electric current

was used to burn and permanently destroy it. That hair could

never grow again. This

would be dome on each armpit, then the pubic area treated in

two sessions. Finally, the

wispy few hairs on the anal area would be eradicated..

Well, she came and she spoke little English but she

certainly gave me pain. An

hour long session saw me finally in tears, begging for her to

stop. Needless to say,

Dad often watched. At the end of the week my armpits and pubes

were smooth and bald.

"More secondary sexual characteristics eliminated",

Dad said, "one major task still

remains. He was referring to my penis. He told me that I was to

have a very tight

circumcision, with a reduction of circumference and shaft

length. This would

complete the present major stage of my bodily modification.

The following Monday,John again wheeled me to the

theatre. This time I was

allowed to have a general anaesthetic. Dad told me during the

afternoon what had

been done. I couldn't see for myself as everthing was heavily

bandaged.

Dr. Fuentes started by fully retreacting my foreskin. He

fitted a plastic

circumcision shield over my glans. This was bell shaped, with a

deep groove surrounding

the mouth of the "bell'. A long plastic rod formed a

handle. Keeping firm pressure

on the glans, the foreskin was pulled up very tightly over the

bell and up the handle.

When the doctor was satisfied that maximum stretch had been

achieved, the tip of the

foreskin was secured to the handle with artery forceps. A

scalpel was than swiftly

run arounf the skin,through the full thickness, the tip

accurately guided by the

bell's groove. The severed foreskin came away with the

circumcision shield.

One skin edge retracted over halfway back down the shaft of the

penis.

The other cut edge was immediately behind the glans. They were

then sutured

together with continuous fine tension sutures. My unhooded

penis apparently had

become much shorter. Laying it back up on my bare pubis,

the doctor then removed a strip of skin,from the length of the

penis, a

centimetre wide, parallel to the urethra and closely against it.

This produced a marked tightening of the circumference, as the

incised edges were sutured together, making for a totally

smmoth and more slender

penile shaft. Dr. Fuentes explained that he had made the skin

very tight, so that

the twenty percent of shrinkage in penis size, resulting over

three months after

the castration. To accelerate this process, the doctor told dad

that he had

milked the prostate dry and had slipped a small oestrogen

implant into the left

buttock. The slow release of the hormone over the next four

weeks, would totally

neutralise all residual testosterone. Penile shrinkage would

leave just the right

amount of skin flexibility found in the average prepubescent

penis.

Because of current skin stretching, and extra strain on

the stitching it would involve, penile erection was totally

contraindicated

until adequate healing meant that the sutures could be removed,

so he inserted the widest gauge Foley's catheter he could get

up into my

urethra. In practice, he explained, this will be so alien and

uncomfortable that the

last thing the boy will experience is sexual arousal and the

ostrogens will help.

We will let the father decide whether he would like the boy to

continually drain

urine into a plastic bag or whether he would prefer maintain

control by releasing

a clamp when the boy's bladder is considered to be sufficiently

painfully distended.

That catheter was so uncomfortable and I always had to

beg Dad to release the

clamp and drain me. After seven days, the doctor removed the

bandages carefully,

sponged my penis and removed the stitches. Then came pain, as

after deflating the

retaining balloon locking the catheter in my bladder he very

slowly slid

it out of me. They sat me up, so that I could join the doctor

and my dad in admiring

the handiwork. Well, I was in for a shock. A very pink glans

was permanently

bared and my penis was thinner and much shorter. It still

looked a little bruised

and the incisions were red and angry looking.Doctor said

"another three weeks and

no one will know you have had surgery. The clock has been well

and truly put back"!

Set Free. Part 6.

Four days later, John wheeled me to the x-ray room. My left knee

and ankle were

examined. Doctor Fuentes, with dad, came to inspect the films. It was

decided that there

was now sufficient calcification in the joints to prevent any

movement. They also discussed my

spinal curvature and my jaw. At present, dad said, the amount of

deformity was acceptable

and anyway, more work could always be done. The doctor suggested that

I be fitted with

a light fibreglass spinal jacket, for overnight maintenance of the

spine's curvature. Dad told

the doctor that his friend at home, was always ready to oblige.

The following morning, free of bracing, I was helped into my

school uniform, put into

the car and we set off on the long ride home. My only diversion was a

thick shake and a request

from dad that I show him how young boys peed down the raised leg of

their school shorts.

I couldn't believe how difficult it now was to find and pull down, my

very soft,smaller penis,

or "dickey" as my dad insisted it must now be called.

When we got home and I had been spoon-fed by dad, he gave me an

enema and being put to bed

was followed by him having prolonged anal sex with me.I must confess,

I had missed feeling his

big penis glide into me and the warm glow I felt, as he thrust

away,telling me what a very

special boy I was and how he loved me. He mentioned that my bottom

had become too tight

for his comfort, due to lack of practice, but that soon would no

longer be the case!

Afterwards, he commented on the "hospital pallor" of my

skin. "It's sunbathing on the

banana lounge, by the pool for you tomorrow. I'll make sure to rub

you with plenty of

oil first. Small boys are expected to be sufficiently harmless to

sunbathe nude, as they

don't find nudity to be sexually arousing. You will see that I am

right. So we will get

you a good tan. I will be joining you poolside, so there will be a

chance for me to

see how well you are managing to walk with your crippled leg, and

also so see that your

dickey behaves itself before I invite some of my friends to join

us"

Dad announced," We will take one day at a time. Your spinal

jacket will be fitted during the

afternoon and later in the week, you and I are going shopping. I have

some surprises

in store for my special boy"

The next morning, after dad had given me my meagre breakfast, I

was weighed. I was

now down to 43 kilograms and my dad expressed his pleasure. I limped

out to the

poolside, naked. I felt so humiliated, as he rubbed sun oil over my

whole body. The I had

to lie spreadeagled on the banana lounge and bake. Later, he helped

me into the pool for

"a swim". How I was supposed to swim with a useless left

arm and a stiffened left leg, I

don't know, but dad said, I would learn, in time. I couldn't believe

how shrivelled the

cold water had made my genitals. More like six, than thirteen years

old.

In the afternoon dad's friend came, with some sheets of a

thermoplastic which he

heated in the kitchen. Forcing me into a full stoop, he moulded a

sheet to my back and

another to my chest. He then trimmed them and fixed straps to ensure

they firmly

encased me during the night. Dad said if this didn't maintain my

curvature, it would be

back to the heavy bracing full-time.

The next day was again spent naked, sunbathing by the pool followed

by "swimming"

The following morning I was dressed in my school uniform and strapped

into the leg

caliper, because dad said he liked the effect for a public display,

while we shopped.

He insisted on holding my right hand as I limped slowly along the

shopping centre. We turned

into a body piercing studio. They started by fitting a small gold

ring through each

ear lobe. Then I was strapped down an a table and a leather headband

placed around my

forehead. Dad told me to open my mouth and helped the technician fit

a wedge

between my teeth, keeping my mouth wide open. Dad told the man I was

allowed a small local

anaesthetic, so my tongue was held in a clamp and pulled far forward,

so that the local

could be injected on both sides of the tip. A few minutes later, a

thick needle

was passed transversely through my tongue, about half an inch behind

the tip. This was

to allow a heavy gauge gold bar to be forced through the piercing.

Two balls were then

threaded to each end and locked with epoxy glue. I was glad that

everything was still

numb, as I tried to accommodate this awkward intrusion in my mouth.

Driving home, dad explained that the one thing spoiling my

transformation to

prepubescence, was my voice. It was a little too confident and deep

for a thirteen year-old.

The tongue piercing would alter my speech characteristics and be more

appropriate.

All I could do at that moment was to try not to drool saliva

down my school shirt.

I tried to reply, but the pain of the piercing, with some tongue

swelling, made my words quite

unintelligible. "It's just soup and fluids for you, for a few

days, my son" dad said,

but I'll have a special present for you, this evening"

Dad gave me the usual enema and slid his penis into me at

bedtime. It distracted me

from the soreness in my mouth. He slowly withdrew after giving me his

sperm and said,

"here's the present, I promised. You'll get to love it" He

produced a smooth silver

object shaped a bit like a tiny Christmas tree."This is a

special plug for you to keep

in your bottom. It goes in after sex and stays there until enema

time. It will keep

you from tightening up and it will massage your prostate gland and

increase it's

sensitivity. You will enjoy our sex even more, as your dad's penis

rubs against it.

I'll show you what I mean, before I plug you" Dad put some gel

on his fingers and slid

two of them up my bottom. Suddenly he found a sensitive place, that

shot tingles through

me. He rubbed against the spot as I found myself pushing back to gine

his more access

to the place.It was so nice. He withdrew his fingers and eased the

silver plug into me.

I could feel it pressing against that same exciting spot.I tightened

my bottom around

the flange at the bottom of the plug. "There. that's nice, isn't

it. When you walk you

will feel it gently massaging, inside your bottom. Let's look at your

dickey. Yes,

there's a little glob of clear fluid coming out. That's all a boy

like you ever gets to

ejaculate.Your pleasure will always be best, when you have your dad's

penis in your bottom"

The following morning I tried to talk to dad. It was

difficult and the gold

barbell transfixing my tongue caused me to have a decided

lisp."That's just the voice

I wanted to hear" said dad, "exactly right for a young

lad". I think I can start

inviting friends to visit. Don't worry, all my special friends really

love boys".

Next morning naked, oiled and plugged, I met two men of dad's age.

Dad explained that

I had only just been allowed to live at home after a long stay in

hospital. All treatment,

for the present had been completed. There were expressions of veiled

pity and my face

rash prompted a comment about the start of puberty! "as you can

see down there, nothing

else is happening" said my dad. Their stares at my anatomy were

ill-concealed. I fould myself

wondering what their response would be if I told them I was eighteen.

Disbelief, no doubt.

During the sfternoon, dad asked me why I was walking so slowly.

I told him that the

constant ache in my leg and the sudden pain when I bore my weight,

made it impossible

for me to move any faster. He said he thought I would do better in a

wheelchair when we

didn't have time to spare. We would go to town and buy one. A folding

version to keep in

the boot of the car. The next morning, we acquired a lightweight

folding wheelchair.

The man in the shop told dad he would need to buy a leg board for

my crippled, stiff

leg. We returned to the car at great speed, dad obviously well

pleased. He clumsily

bashed my sore leg into the wall twice and swiped a pedestrian with

it in the carpark.

He drove home deep in thought." Yes, the wheelchair is better

than me dawdling beside

you, but that straight leg is a problem. I'll have a chat with Doctor

Fuentes about a

remedy.Now let's fed and clean you out. I'm looking forward to giving

you some hard penis

tonight. I missed the plug when he removed it, but had cause to

concentrate on new feelings

from my prostate, as it got plenty of stimulation from dad. Again,

there was a large

globule of stickyness oozing from my dickey when he finished. As I

was falling asleep, I

realised that he was having his chat with Dr. Fuentes.

"We are off to the clinic again this afternoon" dad

announced at breakfast. "We

have agreed on the complete solution to your remaining modification

problems"

Jon, the male nurse was waiting as we arrived. He helped to to bed

and into the usual

gown. Dad came to say goodnight and I asked him what was to happen.

"I want you to get

a night of sound sleep, let's talk about it tomorrow afternoon."

By nine o'clock the next morning I had been heavily

premedicated and cheerfully

and naively was wheeled off to the theatre. It was mid-afternoon when

I started to

emerge from the anaesthetic. I was back in my room and Dad was

sitting beside the

bed holding my right hand. As I became more sensible, I looked down

and saw that my

legs were covered by a cradle under the blanket."Thats to stop

the bedclothes pressing

on the bandages. We will tell you about it tomorrow when the

dressings are changed.

Here's John with your injection. Get a good night's sleep, love you

son"

I awoke at daybreak to an awful ache around my knees. John

gave me a couple of

pills and a glass of milk. A little later, Dr. Fuentes and Dad

appeared. They took off the

bedclothes and the cradle. "Look at your new little legs,

son", dad said. I nearly died of

shock. The had amputated both my lower legs, through the knee joints.

The stumps were

tightly encased in white bandages. "Why did you do this?" I

lisped. Dad said "For two

reasons. Firstly, that stiffened leg idea was a mistake and proved

useless for walking. Secondly.

you were a bit too tall for your age, anyway. It's also much more

exciting for me to have

you permanently wheelchair-bound. More of the crippled young son I

really wanted,

a boy who is totally dependent on his father and therefore devoted to

him."

He leaned towrds me closely and whispered "much easier now to

get it into you, my love

and you'll be able to sit on your dad's lap". That familiar

feeling of sorrow,apprehension

and excitement swept over me as I weighed the consequences. I knew

that two months ago I

would have experienced a large throbbing, oozing erection. Nothing

like that now, with my

hairless, permanently flaccid, neat young boy's genitals. Yes, there

I was, with a a schoolboy

haircut, the pockmarks of acne rosacea on my face, a receding chin,

marked curvature of

the upper spine, a wasted, useless left arm and no lower legs. Never

mind, in a few days, dad

would be letting me feel his beautiful big penis in me again. Perhaps

he could plug my bottom

meanwhile. I would ask. I realised then, that my anus had become my

centre of sexual pleasure.

Dad said he would plug me for the journey home, when the stitches

had been removed from my

stumps. He told me that he had been planning things for me on our

return. His special friend

was to be summoned to make some special gear in black leather for me

to wear in the house.

Then he startled me, by telling me that it was high time I realised

that there was more

than one way for a boy to give a man sexual pleasure. There wasn't

just one useful orifice.

He said he wanted to feel the gold barbell in my tongue tickling the

tip of his penis.

It was essential that a boy should get used to swallowing his dad's

sperm. Yes indeed, oral

sex training was to be my new hobby! I told my dad that I couldn't

wait to be taken home.

It surprised me that he understood everything I said as I could

hardly recognise the lisping,

quite different and childlike speech that was coming from my lips.

Dad had another long look

at my two stumps stroked them and told me how very satisfactory

everything was becoming.

He said he was proud of his son and grateful for having such a

special and unique

crippled lad to love and care for.

Set Free Part 5.

The next morning dad slipped the plug back up into my bottom,

dressed me in my school

uniform short-sleeved shirt and little shorts. With my stumps now

bare, he carried me

into the car and strapped me to the car while I clung to his neck

with my good arm. This

time, when we stopped for the break in our journey home,he took me in

the folding wheelchair

to get the usual thickshake. The people stared at me and quickly

looked away. Dad

carried me into the toilet while I pulled my dickey down my shorts

leg and had a pee. Now

that I was down to 36 kilograms, dad said that lifting and carrying

me was no problem..

When we got home and had supper, Dad gave me an enema and put

me, for the

first time, in his big double bed. We would, dad said, from now on

always sleep together,

so that I would be available immediately to accommodate his sexual

needs. I gave him a

one-armed hug and a kiss.

He was a very ardent lover that evening and I was learning to

properly savour and

appreciate his lovely penis as it slid in and out of my eager bottom.

When he had ejaculated,

he firmly replaced my plug and told me that tomorrow, his friend

would be coming to measure me

for my leather gear. Surpringly, he carefully felt and gently

squeezed my testicle prostheses

and then fingered my dickey. I think he was testing something.

"Yes, my son, it's all very,

very satisfactory and the thing is, you're never going to change. My

young boy - for ever"

The following morning, dad's talented friend came. They

stripped me and put me on

the bed and took out a measuring tape. The length and circumference

of my stumps were

recorded, then the diameter of my neck and wrists. The lifted my

stumps and folded them

down on my abdomen for more measurements, which I didn't understand.

Dad said he would

explain everything tomorrow, when the new gear arrived.

That evening, Dad sat me back in a comfortable low chair and

removed his clothes.

"Let's start your training in oral sex right now", he

said."One thing to always remember,

if you ever bite or allow your teeth to harm my penis, they will be

extracted.

I hope that will never become necessary. It would mean you have been

careless and uncaring.

Now, use you good hand to gently pull my foreskin right back and

then to hold it there

until we have finished". He approached, erect and eager. I did

as he had told me and

thought how smooth and moist his glans was. As I looked, a large bead

of seminal fluid

oozed from the tip. "Start by licking that off and savouring the

taste" Dad said. It was

slightly salty but not unpleasant.

"Now open your mouth as wide as you can, cover those teeth

carefully with your lips and

gently suck my glans into the back of you mouth." I took it in

and remembering what he had

said at the hospital, tried to tickle the frenum underneath with my

barbell beads. Dad

gave a little moan of pleasure and said."lovely, that's so nice,

keep it up and remember that

during the next few weeks, you are going to train your throat to take

the whole length down".

I couldn't image how, but I knew he would have his way. He carefully

thrust in and out for

a while and said "you're about to get your first taste of your

dad's sperm. Swallow it all down.

Nothing must ever be spilled or wasted. His glans seemed to throb and

swell even more and the

back of my mouth filled, as he spurted his semen into me. It was

difficult, but I managed to

take it all down and was pleased at the pleasant sweet saltiness of

the flavour.I loved the

rich creamy texture.

When he chose to withdraw, he told me to lick his glans clean,

Then he told me that

I had done well for a raw beginner. Much more patient training and

serious effort on my

part would be needed to make me really competent at fellatio and able

to really deep throat him.

He said that I would need to practice each day. If I was too slow to

learn, he had several

friends who would be only too willing to help out with the training

of a young crippled lad .

I enjoyed both the experience and my dad's praise!

The next morning dad explained more about oral sex and his

requirements. "Last

night was interesting and a good start but I must tell you, there's a

long way to go for you.

The biggest problem for all boys training to take a man's penis in

their throat is what's

called the "gag reflex". This is a natural reaction when an

object reaches the very back of

the mouth. The reflex action is to automatically gag or retch. A boy

with training and a lot

of practice can learn to completely overcome and control this. The

head of the penis is only

then able to side on down the throat and be fully accommodated. This

gives the man a great

deal of pleasure. He will then ejaculate his sperm right down the

boy's throat.

I have brought you a semi-solid rubber imitation penis,usually

called a dildo.

You hold this by the base and slid it back in your mouth until you

gag. It's only five

inches long and slender. It may take you some days of practice, but

you will show me when

you can take it without gagging. Then you can enjoy my penis as a

reward. As you would

expect, that's just the first phase of your training. Larger organs

tend to prevent normal

breathing, even through the nose. So you need to develop a cycle of

deep sucking, partial

withdrawal for a quick breath followed by full reinsertion. So a six

inch dildo is then

used to gradually condition your throat for the thick seven and a

half inch version,

which approximates to the full length of my own penis. I don't want

to use force son,

but by fair means or foul, within a month, I require you to be able

to deep throat me. I'll

leave you to start serious practice, as my friend is bringing you the

gear this afternnon.

I became quite excited as they unwrapped the black leather

gear. First there were

a pair of sheaths for my stumps, which dad said would be known as my

"bootees" They came

just halfway up my thighs and closed with laces. Dad said that as Dr.

Fuentes had managed

a good soft tissue pad to cover the bones of the knee joints and as

our friend here had

arranged a pad of foam rubber for the bottom of my stumps, I would be

walking on them

around the house. There would never be mention of artifial limbs.

They next fitted me with a

soft but wide leather collar complete with several D-rings. A padded

leather wristband

was strapped around each wrist.A demonstration of the D-ring system

followed. First my

paralysed arm was secured, folded across my chest by clipping the

wristband to a D-ring

in the collar. Dad then mentioned that my two arms could now be

fastened at any time behind my back, should a need arise. My stumps

were raised by their

new leather coverings

and folded wide apart across my chest.Metal rings with short straps

in the front of each

"bootee" were attached to my neck collar. This raised and

totally exposed my buttocks and anus.

I was helpless and totally vulnerable. Dad said that it made a very

fine spectacle of an eager lad just waiting to be mounted ! He lifted

me onto his bed and

left me like that, as his friend departed. He couldn't wait for our

usual enema routine

as he wrenched out my plug and roughly thrust his engorged penis into

me. I had never been

penetrated so deeply or so remorselessly. He moaned loadly upon his

final great thrust.

and I clearly felt the spurts of his sperm deep within my rectum. He

undid my stumps and

I fell asleep in his arms. Next morning he told me that I would be

wearing my leather

gear with a black T shirt and matching tiny boy's briefs whenever I

was plugged and

indoors. All outings would be in school uniform. A new set had been

made to fit my

lighter body rather more snugly. We wanted to watch me learn to walk.

As I stood, I

realised that my stumps were still tender but I tried. I steadied

myself with my right

fingertips and started to make some progress, feeling unsure and very

silly. Dad was

pleased. The plumber came to replace the toilet bowl in my bathroom.

He had located a

small, low unit manufactured for kindergartens! Whe he had gone, dad

made me show him

how I could pull the leg of my briefs aside, pull out my dickey and

pee without any mess.

"Now you can learn to get around the house by yourself and

attend to your needs."

That afternoon I was told to get on with my oral practice. After a

while dad came to watch.

I was still gagging the minute the tip of the dildo reached the back

of my tongue. Dad

said that I must learn to tip my chin up as high as possible, to

partly straighten the

path of access. He held my head right back and took control of the

artificial penis.

He went slowly and gently and I was able to take more length and

sometimes delay gagging.

"That's enough for now. I think I'll ring my nephew David to see

if he would like to help."

I must have looked puzzled, so he explained. "David is eighteen

and recently told me that

he is gay. He is a rather small built lad and loves getting his penis

sucked. Maybe he

would be just right for you. He's a nice lad and told me he would

love to meet you."

The evening, David arrived for dinner. He was very affable and I

liked him, although

he couldn't seem to stop staring at me. He appeared to be a little

smaller than I had been

before my body modification - jockey size. Dad and he left me alone

for a while. I

could just hear their earnest conversation. When the returned, dad

said,"I have agreed to

David's request and you are going back with him to his flat for the

weekend. I have

explained how you are to be cared for and what your needs are. But

you will always

remember that you are a young boy and David is an adult. You will do

exactly what he says.

I'll take you for your enema before you leave. Take just the black

outfit and the leather"

David carried me to his car and off we drove. He told me that

he has always had

fantasies about having a young crippled friend, never realising that

it would be a cousin!

Later that evening as we relaxed on his big sofa, David who

had furtively been

feeling himself, pulled out his penis and said,"what do you

think about this? Fancy looking

after it for me?" His penis was neatly circumcised and about

five and a half inches long

and rather slender. Very erect and glistening at the tip. "you

are going to suck me off,

young Tim, but I'll be gentle. Your dad says you're a novice".

He straddled my chest and

I took as much of it as I could. "Don't play hard to get, take

it down. I dont care if it

makes you gag all evening, but you're getting it all". I choked

as he thrust into my throat

roughly. "we can do it the hard way or we can enjoy ourselves,

make up your mind" I told

him I would try. He was patient and somehow, I learnt to take him

until his pubis was

pressing against my nose.

He ejaculated in my mouth telling me to save it. The he kissed

me and told me to open

my lips and give him some of his sperm back.His tongue entered deep

into my mouth and I

sensed that he was fascinated with the barbell though my tongue.

"you aren't into kissing

much, are you Tim" I told him I had never given it thought. For

the next half hour there

was much tongue play and exchange of saliva. The he pulled off all

my gear and the briefs

a T shirt. "I love your boy's dickey and balls," David

said,"I'll tell you my secret, I love

to suck the dickeys of young boys" and proceed to suck my penis

and both balls into his mouth.

This I hadn't expected. After lengthy stimulation, I not

only experienced a lovely tingling pleasure in my dickey but it

became semi-erect. I later

realised that the oestrogen implant was well exhausted.I told David

that I couldn't ejaculate.

Little knowing, he said "I look forward to the next year or

two, then"

The weekend fled by with much kissing, cuddling and oral sex.

I had learned to accept

his penis and he complimented me on my rapid improvement. When he

took me home, dad led him

away for a lengthy report, then David left. "I told David the he

had no business doing what

he did with your genitals. I'm even more perturbed to hear that you

enjoyed his illconsidered

ministrations. You know very well that your role in life is solely to

gratify your dad. Your

only remaining sensual organs are your mouth and your bottom. I'll

need to have a talk to

Dr. Fuentes on our next trip. Meanwhile, you still have another three

weeks to fully

develop your oral abilities. That's all you are required to

concentrate upon. Get yourself

into the bathroom. It' back to normal for you son, I'll give you

something to think about"

Dad had never been so aroused but he was determined to retain his

sperm as long as

possible. When he finally impregnated me, my bottom was very sore.

Next day, he gave me the big seven and a half inch dildo.

"After your nights with David,

we are skipping the six incher. So get going, I want to hear soon

that your throat can

take a fully grown penis. I'm giving you two weeks and then I promise

you will be getting

it, all the way. Seems I have been pampering you" During the

next ten days, our evening sex

continued and dad not only took me with my stumps strapped up, but

also with me sitting down

on his lap as his penis slowly slid up into me, but also face down on

my right elbow and stumps

while he knelt behind me and thrust into me as if he were a dog. I

must confess, I looked

forward to our evening sessions and whenever I was alone, recaptured

those evening with David

by stroking my dickey. The sensations were very pleasant and

eventually I was sometimes able

to proudly produce a partial brief erection. The afternoons were

spent with me attempting to

take down my throat all seven and a half inches of dildo. I had

finally learn to stop gagging

but could only get six inches down and then it seemed to be stuck.

This was beginning to

worry me. Then the afternoon came when dad demanded a demonstration.

I did my best. He told me

that he now could see the problem. He lay me on the bed on my back,

with my head hanging way

over the edge. He explained that this straightened access to the

throat. He held the dildo and

told me he was going to get it all in, providing I did just what he

told me. When the head of

the artificial penis was pushing hard against the back of my throat,

he first told me to take

a few deep breaths, then I was to forget the word "suck"

and obey the command to "swallow".

I took several breaths and dad said swallow hard now, and he pushed.

Suddenly I had taken the

whole dildo down my throat. I was briefly thrilled until I realised I

could no longer breathe.

As soon as dad noted my growing distress, he withdrew the dildo then

repeated the "breathe"

and "swallow" cycle. It became easier. When he decided I

understood, he left me saying

"I'm glad we sorted that out son. You have three days of

practice ahead, to get yourself

really opened up and then you are going to take down all your dad can

give and you'll be

swallowing all my sperm. Well done son, we can now share a morning

hobby!"

Three nights later, it happened and I was launched as a

"deep throat" achiever.

From these experinces, a routine evolved . When dad wanted pleasure

but not orgasm he would

sit back in his chair and say "suck me, son" I would hobble

across to him as he bared his

penis and suck away until he told me to stop. Sometimes, this became

a preliminary to our

anal sessions. At other times, he would say, "I need it

swallowing, son" I would make my

way to the bed, wriggle up and lie on my back, with my head readied,

over the edge. The deep

throating would alwys result in him depositing his sperm straight

down my throat.

One weekend, dressed in my school clothes,stumps displayed, dad

carried me to the

wheelchair, loaded me into the car and off we went shopping. He

seemed to take a delight in

entering a shop, leaving me on the pavement outside - subject to the

obvious curiosity and

abject looks of pity from the passers-by. If they spoke to me, dad

had given firm orders that

I was to say "an accident, two years ago, but I just can't talk

about it"

Back home, going from the car to the house, the wheelchair bumped

over a rock, shaking my

paralysed left arm from my lap. I screamed as it became entangled in

the wheel. When Dad

had freed it and rushed me indoors, it seemed that the bones of the

forearm were broken

with some displacement and there were extensive lacerations to the

fingers. I felt much pain.

Dad explained that he had a "understanding" doctor friend

who would be summoned.

The doctor came with Kim,his eighteen year old eunuch son, who

served as both nurse and

housekeeper. I screamed again, as my broken bones were pushed back

into approximate

alignment and my wounds dressed. They gave me an analgesic injection.

The son was most

interested in me but it wasn't the time to become aquainted, I sensed

a mutal attraction.

Apparently his father had removed his testicles at the start of

puberty and kept him at home.

As I drifted off to an uneasy sleep, I could hear dad on the phone,

chatting to Doctor Fuentes.

The next morning we were driving yet again, back to the clinic.

Dad said "The doctor has agreed to fix up your left arm properly

and there is a little

fine tuning needed to finalise your body modification program. That

same evening, drowsy

with premedication, my old nurse friend John, was again pushing me on

the trolley for

another session in the operating theate.