Organ Donor

I got down there and got in line behind about twenty people. I was jittery; I had to miss my workout for this and anytime that happened it always made me antsy. Every person in front of me seemed to have some problem with something; and I was getting increasingly annoyed that it was taking what felt like hours just to get my picture taken and a stupid laminated card made up.

When it finally came to be my turn, I turned in my old license and gave the DMV guy my current information - I'd grown about six inches since I was sixteen and put on about 80 pounds of muscle. It must have been pretty obvious that I was annoyed and in a hurry. "Slow up, sport," the guy told me. "This doesn't take too long."

"It's the hour I've spent in line already that's annoying me," I told him.

"Well, it's nearly over. Come over this way and we'll get your picture taken."

He led me over and told me to sit in a chair and look straight ahead. "Smile," he said, and the flash went off.

I guess it got me a little dazed; I'm sensitive to bright lights, and after the flash went off I was a little foggy. "Mr. Dent," I heard, but didn't respond; I was still blinking. "Mr. Dent," I heard again. "Over here, please."

"Uhh...sorry," I said, and stumbled over to the guy again. He handed me the license. "Would you like to enroll in the organ donor program?" he asked. "You can read right here..." he pointed at some text that still looked a bit blurry. "It's a very good cause."

"Um...sure." He handed me a pen, and he and another woman signed on as witnesses.

My head felt really funny, and I was having a hard time thinking straight. "Just go wait in the room beyond that door, sir, and we'll have you out of here right quick," the guy told me.

"Okay...thanks," I mumbled, and went past the door. It looked like I was in a waiting room for a doctor's office or something. I sat down on one of the chairs and tried to clear my head. It wasn't long at all before I heard voice call my name. I stood up and walked over to the nurse standing in a second doorway.

"Right this way, Mr. Dent," she told me. She led me to what looked like an exam room. "Undress in here and we'll be done shortly."

I was very confused at this point. My head was clearing up a bit but I had no idea what I was in here for; I thought once you had the license you were done...I didn't have to do any of this when I was sixteen, anyway. Maybe they had to do some exam for the organ donor thing or something...I didn't know and didn't really care; I just wanted to get out of there, so I stripped down and sat on the table.

There was a mirror in front of me, and I'm a sucker for narcissm, so started flexing a little bit, admiring myself. I've been working out since I was old enough to lift a dumbbell, and proud of my body - hard, defined. I keep myself shaved so I can see the delineation of my muscles better, including my groin area, and have been plucking it all out slowly so now even if I don't shave not much grows in. The guys on the wrestling team made fun of me for it at first but they got over it. When I first joined they shaved my head for initiation, and since then I've never let it grow back. I even thought about doing my eyebrows once just for the humor value but never did it.

The door opened mid-flex and a youngish looking guy in a white doctor's coat walked in. "Good afternoon, Mr. Dent. If you would just hop up on the table here..." he motioned toward the table. I got up on it. "Just lay back and spread your legs and arms out a little bit," he told me, so I did. He did all the usual stuff to start with - felt my throat, pits and groin. "Do you have alopecia?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"I'm guessing not then. It makes your hair fall out."

"No, I do it myself."

"Gotcha. Breathe deeply, please." He held a stethoscope up to my chest and listened to me breathing, then moved it around a bit. "Can you stand up please, and spread your legs?" Great...I hated hernia tests. I got a boner every single time, and it always embarrassed the hell out of me.

I stood up and spread my legs. The room was warm so they were hanging low. He fondled them a little, and lo and behold, here came the woody. "Turn and cough, please." I did. He continued to fondle my testicles for a bit. "I'm checking for any lumps on your testicles. Are they always this large?"

My nuts were huge, no doubt - the size of eggs. It's more a pain in the ass than anything; finding a cup that fit was a bitch. "Yeah, they're always that big."

"Wow," the doc said. "Looks like you lucked out in the endowment department." He whipped a ruler out of his pocket and measured how big they were. It was actually kind of a turn on - I liked being admired for my body in general, and having a doctor who must see loads of cocks and balls talk about how big mine were did it for me. He took some measurements and noted them on a form on his clipboard.

Next he grasped my cock and pumped it a few times, holding it pretty tight. The foreskin was already retracted since I was fully erect, and he ran the head around between his thumb and forefingers. "Everything looks pretty normal in here, except for the size. How big are you, anyway?" I guess it was a rhetorical question; he measure the length and girth of my cock too. "Wow," me muttered. "Okay...can turn around, put your hands on the table, and spread your legs, please?" I did so, hoping that the snap I just heard wasn't a latex glove going on his hand.

I felt the finger go in and wiggle around. I hated these, but...oh. Whoah. He hit something in there that sure felt...weird. Good, I guess. He kept hitting it, and it made me gasp every time. I was almost disappointed when he pulled his fingers back out. "Every seems good in there. Now just hold still a moment..." I felt a prick in my buttock and a quick injection of something. "Okay, just climb up on the table and the orderlies will be right in."

I felt really groggy all of a sudden, so just lay back on the table. I didn't want to move; that must have been some sedative. The doc left the room and a few moments later two hefty looking guys wheeled a stretcher in and moved me onto it. "Damn," one of them said, looking at my still rock-hard erection. "Almost a shame with this one." The other one grunted agreement.

They wheeled me down the hall and into a room with a whole lot of bright lights. I could feel them move me onto a cushioned cold chair and raise my legs way up in the air. They spread them wide and hung them at the knees from leather loops hanging from an armature that went over me, leaving my balls hanging down between my legs. My cock was losing its erection at this point and drooping down over my belly.

The orderlies wiped some orange nasty smelling crap all over my cock and balls and then wiped it off. I was way too out of it to protest any of this, and felt numb all over - I could barely feel anything at this point.

The doc walked in the room dressed in surgical garb, and here I started coming in and out of consciousness. I lost it for a few minutes, and came back when I felt something poking me in the scrotum. The doc was down there between my legs doing something, reaching over to a tray held by one of the orderlies every once in awhile. I felt my nuts being squeezed a bit, and then a coolness from the left one. The doc held something up to the orderly. "Whoever gets this one's a lucky guy," he commented, and they all laughed a little bit. When he held up another one, I realized they were my testicles.

They've just cut my balls out, I thought to myself. I had a hard time feeling anything about it, really, from whatever drug they'd given me. I sorta fuzzed out again after that for a bit. When I came back I saw the doc holding up a bloody flap of skin. "Does Phyllis still make those wallets?" he asked.

"Yeah," one of the orderlies said. "She made me one out of my own sac."

"Let's save this one for her then..." He handed it off to one of the orderlies, who stuck it somewhere out of view. "We're coming on down to the end, Mr. Dent," the doc told me. I couldn't really summon the energy to say anything back.

"Are we taking his penis off?" one of the orderlies asked.

"Oh, yeah," the doc answered. "No way we can let one this size pass us by. Besides, he responded well to prostate stimulation. I'm sure he'll be fine without it."

I sorta fuzzed out again, and came back just as he lifted my cock off my body, trailing a bloody root behind it. He laid it on a tray and the orderly walked off with it somewhere. "Okay, let's close up," the doc announced. I felt a lot of tugging and pulling from my groin, and then finally passed out for good.

I woke up back out in the waiting room, a plastic bag on my chest with some pamphlets and a prescription for testosterone gel inside. I stumbled out and went home, where I ate something, took a shower, and went to bed for a few hours. I awoke around midnight, hungry, thirsty, and feeling really weird.

I wondered at first if it was a dream but a glance under the covers made it clear that it wasn't. Bandages were taped to my groin and a catheter came out from between my legs. I pressed my hand onto the bandages and could definitely feel that it was all gone.

I went in the bathroom and sat on the toilet to inspect the contents of the baggie. There was the prescription, a pamphlet on aftercare, another on the organ donor program, and some rolls of bandages and medical tape. Apparently I was supposed to change the bandages every time I bathed, and gently wash the wound until it healed. The stitches would fall out on their own after a few weeks. I was still a little nauseated, probably from the sedative they'd given me.

In the shower I got a really good look at my crotch. There was a Y-shaped wound, the crotch of the Y being right where my cock had been. The lower tine ran down between my legs just past where the catheter came out. The pamphlet said they'd moved my pisshole down there; I could take the catheter out when the stitches came out. The cut looked clean, and the stitches were small and even.

I felt numb about it - I knew I should be pissed off or something, but my brain had just shut down. They were gone and I knew it, but I couldn't really bring myself to think about it. I got out of the shower and made some TV dinner, then just watched cable until I passed out.

The next morning I figured I'd have to make some phone calls. I told my wrestling coach that I pulled my groin muscle and needed to sit out for a bit, and he said that was fine. I filled the prescription for the gel stuff and started using that, and just took it easy for the two weeks it took the stitches and catheter to come out. By that point the scar was thin and pinkish, a little raised. I was still horny as hell, and remembered the prostate stimulation the doctor had given me. With no other recourse, I started pleasuring myself by putting fingers, then the plunger, and eventually, a dildo up my ass. I felt a little weird doing it, but it sure worked. It was at least as good as my old orgasms, if not better.

I started back at wrestling practice, and was worried at first that somebody would say something about my lack of bulge in my singlet. Especially for me, since had been so well-endowed, it was a big change. Nobody said anything to me, though, until we hit the showers.

I hadn't even thought about it, but when I was in there and I noticed most of the guys staring at me I suddenly remembered. Shit, I thought. Now what are they gonna do? Probably rag on me for it.

"Dude," this one guy, Jeremy, asked. "What happened to your dick?"

"Umm...I signed up for this organ donor thing. I didn't know they were gonna do it until it was too late."

Most of the muttered something like, "Damn, that sucks."

"How...umm...how do you piss?" I showed them the pisshole. I noticed Jeremy and some of the other guys were getting a little hard. "Can you fuck?"

"I have to...um...up my ass, you know..." I muttered and turned back to the stream of water.

I heard Jeremy's voice from right behind me. "Do you like it?" he asked, and I could feel something against my hip. I looked down to see his cock, hard as a rock, touching me. I looked back up at him, right in the face.

"Well, yeah."

Jeremy just smiled, and positioned himself behind me. I bent over, almost instinctively, and spread my legs a little bit. He took hold of my hips and slowly pushed himself in. I knew how to take it from the dildo, but this was the first time I'd done it with a real guy. I liked it...it was nice not having to push anything in myself; I could just sit there and roll with the experience. He went at it slowly at first, slowly speeding up until I felt the gush of warmth in me and he pulled out.

I started to stand, just to be pushed back into position by another pair of hands, and another. One pulled me up and pushed his cock in my mouth, and I took it, and sucked on it, rolling my tongue around and over it again while other guys did me from behind. I came three or four times, my asshole getting raw by the last guy who wanted to do me was done, and I was exhausted from my wrestling workout followed by all that.

All in all I can't say I totally regret signing that form. Sure, I miss fucking, as opposed to being fucked, but with my cock gone I've found ways to give me pleasure that I would have never found before. I've even mentioned it to some of the other guys on the team, and nowadays I'm not the only one on the team without a bulge in his singlet.