**********

"Honey, you promised!"

My wife reminded me again and again.

"You promised that when he turned 19 that you would go through with it. . ., Please let him go to college as a normal man."

I heard it over and over. Truthfully, I did not want to go through with it, but I knew I had to live up to my promise. I wish I had never made it, but my wife was persuasive. If only I had not insisted that my son be circumcised, we would not be at this point. But, would haves and could haves mean nothing now. My son, of course remembers nothing, but I remember it all too well. The man used the cauterizing tool, and rather than taking off my sons foreskin, burned his penis to a crisp. As long as he had been aware, he asked when he could become a boy. My wife prevailed upon me to make that request come true by agreeing to donate my penis to him when he turned 19. She had started the negotiations at 18, but I managed to push it back a year, until he left for college.

"I don't need sex," she said, and those words stung, because it hurts not to be needed. But she said it again and again.

**********

My son was almost 20 by the time I relented. The doctors of course were excited, because they had never done anything like it before. And, in the time between I signed the papers and the fateful day, my wife was actually affectionate. I thought at least we would have some great nights to remember.

On the day of the surgery, my wife and son were both elated. Things were awkward at best, my sone managed to say a "thanks dad," but it was strange. And my wife could barely contain herself. I told myself that it was because she loved our son, not because she wanted me to be penisless. I drove to the hospital, and carried the bags. Once we were inside, things changed, and the Doctors took over. It was all a blur.

Before long I was on a gurney, under lights, completely paralized and numb, but concious.

"It is so we can identify the nerve," a masked doctor said," you will feel what we are doing, but it won't hurt., at least not until later."

"Get a mirror, so he can see," my wife said, and I saw her soft shadow.

Then came the doctors voice: "Your son is right here, your wife is here, and the whole team is here. . . we are ready to begin. . .do you want a mirror?"

I am not sure why I said yes, but I did, and I could tell my wife was happy.

In another minute, my head was propped slightly, and my oxygen mask adjusted so I could see a reflecteion of my shaved groin, bathed in iodine. My penis hung there limply.

The doctor pinced my head, and I felt his fingers, and the tension as he pulled my penis away from my body.

"Not much to work with", my wife said, and I heard the nurses giggle.

"Not to worry, there is still a remnent in your sons body, we can leave your husband with enought of a stump for penetration while giving your son the glans." I was momentarily relieved at what the doctor said, until my wife chimed in.

"No, we have agreed that you take what you need to give my son the best outcome."

The doctor and my wife went back and forth, and they started to catheterize me. By the time they were done, the doctors fingers were pressing at the base of my penis.

"If we take much more than that, he won't be able to control his urine stream, that is, unless we relocate his urethra."

The last thing I remember from the surgery itself was wathcing the scalpel cut into my skin, and feeling it at the same time. I also remeber the sensation of not having a penis--although I thought it did not hurt at all during the operation, it certainly hurt the next day when I woke up.

********

"Honey, it went great!" my wife was elated--I had not seen her so happy since the day my son was born.

"Do I have anything left?, I asked".

"Don't worry, you will be able to pee fine, they relocated your urethra," she said.

"But we cant have sex, can we?" I asked.

"We will see."

**********

After half a year, I began to get used to not having a penis, I did not even think about it that much, except of course when the sexual frustration built up. But even then, I began to get used to a sexless life. My groin was bare. What did I have to worry about insecurities when I did not even have a penis, not even a stump? That is, until the day I walked in on my son masturbating.

"whoa, sorry dad, I should have closed the door,I am just practicing like the doctor said."

I just stood gape mouthed--I saw it, what was my penis, well, half of it was my penis, and half must have been what was left of his, because in his hand was at least nine or ten inches long.

"Dad, please, I need to do this. . "

"Sorry," I said as I sulked off. Well, at least he would have the confidence I never had, I thought.

************

I did not think about it again until I came home early from work one day. It seemed as though no one was home, but I heard my wife moaning. I thought she might be masturbating--heck, I did not have a penis, but maybe I could help. At least that is what I thought until I walked in and saw my wife with her legs in the air, and my sons bare ass between her legs.

I stood there.

"Go ahead and watch you pathetic fool. You don't think we were doing this before you were dickless? I would have rather fucked his stump than you, and now that he has what was yours, it is even better--That is one way around the small cocked genetics in this house."

I just watched.

"Go ahead and watch, you pathetic freak."

I reached between my legs, and just felt my balls, and an aching sensation, since I would never be able to cum.

*****************

End