Tim's Last Orgasm 10: Sanchez Medical Clinic

Tim stood nervously on the sidewalk outside the Sanchez Medical Clinic, trying to see inside without making it obvious. It was exactly 7:02 AM, and it seemed to him that the entire population of Mexico was on the street, and all eyes were riveted on him! Morning had come, it seemed to Tim, about six minutes after he had finally closed his eyes. He had hopped out of bed and almost fallen flat on his face as his normally strong sturdy legs turned to rubber and buckled under him. That's when he noticed that he didn't have his usual morning erection, and he remembered the pill he'd taken the night before. Once he remembered he was able to stand and walk with little difficulty; but his penis remained as flaccid as he had ever seen it.

When he finally got up the nerve to enter the door of the clinic, Tim realized he'd been wrong. The whole of Mexico had not been outside watching him; they were all in the waiting room, and as he entered all eyes turned to inspect the newcomer. There were at least forty men and women, children of both genders as young as 2 or 3, and at least half a dozen teenagers. Tim wondered what in the world such a cross section of humanity was doing in this place, but then it struck him. Of course! This was a medical clinic! They were in the business of normal medical procedures as well! Tim was somehow comforted by this revelation, but that comfort was not to last very long.

"Oh, yes," the attractive Mexican receptionist said with a smile when Tim had identified himself. She spoke with a thick Spanish accent that Tim found strangely erotic. "You're the young man here for the penectomy. We've been expecting you." Tim could hear the chatter in the crowded waiting room grow silent, and he could feel forty pairs of eyes burning into his back. "Just go into change room number four down that hall and get undressed," the receptionist said. "Be sure to remove your underwear as well, and put everything in the bag you will find in the change room. You will find a hospital gown and robe. After you're ready, just come back to the waiting room and have a seat. We have some forms to fill out and a short interview before we get started, but it won't be long. Did you bring appropriate clothes for after your surgery?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Tim replied weakly. "I have them in this bag."
"That's fine. Just put the whole thing in the bag in the dressing room and bring it to me. It will be locked up until you are ready to get dressed this afternoon after the amputation of your penis."

Tim paid the lady the remainder of their fee, then did as he was told. He had been trying to scream mentally at the receptionist not to talk so loudly, but they had obviously not made a connection. He was convinced everyone in the waiting room could hear, and they were obviously listening because the din of their chatter had gone totally silent. As he turned to follow the young lady's directions down to the change room, it had taken every bit of resolve Tim could summon not to turn tail and run out the door.

After he was dressed in the flimsy hospital gown and the paper robe that had been provided, he nervously took a seat in the waiting room. He noticed two other men and one woman dressed the same, and busied his tormented mind with wondering what sort of surgery they were having. He didn't have to wait long to find out as the woman's name was called. The nurse was speaking Spanish, but Tim clearly heard the word ‘Hysterectomy.' She was directed to a small cubicle at one end of the room. Another woman, dressed in OR scrubs, joined her. He could hear their conversation clearly, but it was all in Spanish so he was none the wiser. Tim was evidently not the only curious one in the waiting room, because once more the busy chatter was hushed. Seconds later another nurse called one of the undressed men in Spanish, but again Tim clearly heard the word ‘castration.'

"Timothy Chandler, penectomy!" Tim heard a loud female voice call. Shit! he said to himself, why the fuck don't they just take out an ad on national TV? His face blushing profusely, Tim got up and followed the large woman dressed in a lab coat into another cubicle alongside the one where the woman was still talking with the scrub lady. He passed by a boy about 13 years old, and as he passed their eyes met. Tim immediately thought of his brother back in Chicago and none the wiser what his big brother was up to. The boy had a searching, questioning expression on his face as if demanding an explanation. Tim managed to move his eyes away from the young teen and kept walking. "Dr. Smith will be right in to see you," the woman said in a thick Spanish accent. "Please, just have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

It was only a few minutes before a larger, more mature version of Carlos entered the cubicle and held out his hand. "Good morning, Tim," the man said pleasantly, "I'm Dr. Smith." Tim was astonished at the likeness between the two, and he took an instant liking to Carlos' father. As Carlos had told him, the only evidence that the doctor was not pure Mexican was his name. He was strikingly handsome, especially in his OR scrubs, and he wore the same perpetual friendly grin that adorned Carlos' pretty face.
"Hi," Tim said as he rose and shook the doctor's hand. "I guess you already know I'm Tim Chandler.""We'll get under way as quickly as possible," Dr. Smith assured him. "I have a few medical things to go over, then there's the consent form to be completed and a few options to discuss, but we'll make it as brief as we can. First and foremost I am pleased to tell you that your blood tests have all come back negative. We have tested you for all sexually transmitted diseases including HIV, and they are all negative. We also tested you for anemia, diabetes, and a variety of other common ailments. It seems that you are a very healthy young man, Tim."

Tim nodded, thinking to himself that he could have told the doctor that and saved him a lot of trouble, but then he had visited enough doctors to know he wouldn't have been believed anyway. "Before we get started, I have a favor to ask," Dr. Smith said in that same friendly voice. "We have a visiting psychologist from the States who would very much like to interview you. He will not try to influence you, but since your case is a little unusual and this is his field of expertise, he just wants to ask you a few questions. I would consider it a personal favor if you'd agree to see him, but I'll understand if you are not comfortable with the idea."
"I don't mind," Tim said. He did mind, he minded terribly! But he had taken an instant liking to this man as he'd done yesterday with his son, and there didn't seem to be any way he could say no to him.
"Great!" the doctor said. "Ok, let's get the gory details out of the way. This consent form states as simply as we can make it that you are here to have your penis, both internal and external, removed and your urethra relocated to just in front of your anus. There is to be no castration, and no attempt to deter the growth of any hair either now or in the future. Is that all correct, Tim?"

Tim wanted to shrink into the soft chair in which he was sitting and disappear into the soft cushion. His eyes darted this way and that, focusing on the two foot gap between the top of the cubicle wall and the ceiling. "I'm sorry," the doctor said when he noticed his patient's distress. "Don't worry about the people in the waiting room. Most of them don't understand English, and even those who do are too preoccupied with their own problems to know or care what's going on in here." Tim could tell by the total lack of sounds coming over the wall that separated him from the rest of the room that most of the occupants were certainly listening to something, but he was far too embarrassed to voice any further objections. He replied weakly that the doctor was correct, then signed the consent form after reading it.

"Great!" the doctor said. "Now for the medical stuff. You are a homosexual, is that correct, Tim?"
"Yes, sir," Tim replied. He almost choked on the admission, but he'd resolved to be totally out while he was in Cancun.
"Do you engage in anal sex?"
"No, sir. I have never done it and I don't ever intend to."
"I have to tell you, that concerns me a little, Tim. You are in the very prime of your sexual life, and you are about to deprive yourself of your only means of sexual relief unless you consider some form of prostate stimulation. This could get extremely frustrating for you!"
"I know," Tim said. He was still speaking very softly, but to his dismay the doctor was still using a very loud voice. He could picture the people in the waiting room hanging on every word. "I might consider castration at some later time, but right now I don't want it."
"That's fine," the doctor said. "I felt it necessary to point out the risks you are taking. Having got that out of the way, we will do it as you have requested."

The doctor then proceeded to go into a lot more detail on precisely what he was going to do than Tim wanted to hear. At the same time, he appreciated the man's determination that there would be no surprises. He had Tim stand and lift his gown so that he could examine him closely, then after satisfying himself that all was well he placed a finger directly between Tim's legs, approximately halfway between the top of his scrotum and his anus. "That's approximately where your urethra will exit," he said. "From this day forward, that is where your urine will exit your body. You will obviously have to sit or squat to urinate, and once that is done there will be no undoing it."

He told Tim that he would have to submit to one last enema, and then the catheter would be inserted and secured before he was put to sleep. Tim felt himself getting hard as the doctor explained in minute detail all the preparations for the surgery, the after care, and how Tim would look and feel after he was healed. To his utter surprise when his right hand roamed to his crotch, he discovered that his cock was still completely soft. "You're feeling an erection, am I right?" the doctor said when he noticed the surprised expression on Tim's face.
"Unhhh... Yes, sir," Tim responded, imagining all the faces in the waiting room now glued on the cubicle. "But..."
"The muscle relaxant won't allow you to get hard," the doctor explained. "You might very well have those same sensations after you have no penis. They will probably fade in time, but they could very well be very pronounced until your body gets used to not having what has become a very important part of you. There are more nerve endings per square inch in your penis than any other part of your body, you know. When your penis is severed, it will be like cutting off a bunch of electrical wires, and there could be a period while those wires get used to being disconnected that you will feel things that don't exist, just like you do now. It's going to take some time to adjust."

The doctor went on to explain the condition knows as "blue balls," or "lovers' nuts." "Most young men are sexually active, either with someone else or through masturbation, so they never have the experience. Have you ever had pains in your testiscles?" he asked.
"No, sir," Tim replied as his face reddened even more. He knew by his answer that he was admitting to beating off regularly. "I have heard of blue balls, but I've never had them."
"You'd better prepare yourself, because it might very well happen once you have no sexual outlet," the doctor said. "If it does, please come back for a castration. The pains can be excruciating!"

The doctor shook Tim's hand again, saying that he'd see him in the OR, and he was gone. A nurse appeared and gave Tim a shot. "It's more antibiotic," she explained. "We have also added a very mild narcotic because Dr. Smith said you are very uptight. This will help you relax." Then she too was gone. Tim wanted to tell her that he would be a whole lot more relaxed if everyone wasn't talking loudly enough to inform all of Mexico what was going on, but he didn't. Another five minute wait, and a man walked into the cubicle that almost gave Tim a heart attack.

"R-Roy?" Tim gasped as the man offered his hand.
"We meet again, Tim," Roy said with a grin. "How are you doing?"
"Well, I... I'm not sure... I..." Tim stammered.
"Having some last minute doubts?" Roy suggested.
"It's not that," Tim replied. "I'm just kinda... I dunno.... I mean, meeting you on the plane, and then you show up here... and..."
"You're a bit overwhelmed," Roy said. "That's understandable. I'm sorry about that plane thing. I was pretty sure when I met you that you were the patient I was coming to see, but I couldn't invade your privacy, and I couldn't be sure so I just had to play it out and see where it went. But if you're uncomfortable talking with me..."
"No, it's ok," Tim said. Then in almost a whisper, "I just wish we couldn't be heard by the whole freakin' waiting room."
"No problem," Roy said. "I understand completely. I promise you they won't hear another word. I've got some pretty personal questions to ask you, but I'll keep my voice down. Any questions you feel uncomfortable about answering, just say so. But before we start I want to tell you the reason why I'm here. Dr. Smith contacts me whenever he thinks he has a case that is unusual and interesting because I'm on a crusade to make clinics like this one legal in the United States. I don't think it'll happen any time soon, but it will never happen if no one tries. So anything you tell me could be used in the future, without your name of course, in trying to promote such a facility for any who needs it without traveling so far. Fair enough?"
"Sounds good," Tim said. His fears relieved now about the motives of this man, he found himself warming to him.

"Ok, let's get started," Roy said. "As I understand it, you are having a radical penectomy but not a castration, is that correct?"
"Yes," Tim replied. He knew the next question out of Roy's mouth would be to ask why, but he was wrong. Roy was a professional and could determine information using far more oblique methods.
"In the previous year or so, have you been sexually active?"
"Well, yes, I guess you could say that," Tim replied, his face flushing again.
"Would you consider yourself promiscuous?"
"I'm... I'm not sure, but I don't think so," Tim answered.
"I understand," Roy said neutrally. "Why don't you tell me about some things you've done in the past month or so, like how many times per day you have masturbated, how many others you've been intimate with, whether they are your own sex or the opposite? That way I can get a better understanding of your sexuality." Tim did as he was asked. He was extremely nervous and embarrassed at first, but the combination of the narcotic he'd been given and Roy's disarming manner soon had him telling things about himself he'd never dreamed he would ever reveal.

Roy asked Tim more questions than he'd ever thought possible. They both spoke in almost a whisper, and Tim was reassured by Roy's attempts at confidentiality and answered all the questions to the best of his ability. Roy asked if he'd ever experienced pain during sex, if he hated his sexuality, if he felt guilt feelings after sex, obviously trying to get a better understanding of why a healthy well adjusted teen would do such a thing. They sat in the cubicle for almost an hour, after which Roy said that he would like to keep in contact if at all possible. "I'd like that," Tim said truthfully.
"Great!" Roy said. "I might be emailing you from time to time to ask you more questions about how you're doing, if the results are anything like you expected. And please, feel free to contact me any time. If you need help, I want to be there for you. There is absolutely no predicting the outcome of what you're going into, and it might get to the point that it's too much to bear. If that happens, please contact me either by phone or email."
"I will," Tim promised. They shook hands again and Roy left. The drug he'd had was obviously having an effect because Tim was feeling much more relaxed, and he found that he really didn't care that all eyes were on him as he exited the cubicle. Before he had a chance to sit back down in the waiting room a nurse showed up and took him back to the prep room for his final enema.

Tim's final preparations proved to be far more unpleasant than he'd experienced the night before. The nozzle that invaded his anus was bigger and a lot longer than what Carlos had used, and the indifferent nurse, anxious to get the preparation over with, took far less time in shoving the cruel implement home. It wasn't that she was purposely causing pain or distress, she just didn't have the same empathy or caring that Carlos had displayed. When Tim began to complain of cramps, the nurse simply told him not to be a baby and to give it a few more minutes. By the time he was finally allowed to sit on the toilet, Tim was in so much agony that he could hardly propel himself across the floor without stumbling. The relief, on the other hand, was almost erotic it felt so good. "Ok," the nurse said pleasantly in broken English, "as soon as you're finished go ahead and have a quick shower, and then just get up on the table. There's no need to put your hospital gown back on, we will need you naked for the surgery anyway."

Feeling humiliated and violated, Tim dried himself after the shower and walked naked to the gurney. He tried to imagine himself a slave and having this entire procedure against his will, hoping that the fantasy would ease the embarrassment. It didn't; it actually made it worse so he abandoned the idea. This was what he had wanted and his mind refused to consider any other possibility. The nurse who had seemed so cruel to him covered him with a sheet, then wheeled him into the OR. "Just slide your butt onto the table," she instructed. "I'll help you by keeping the sheet over you as you move, and then I'll place your feet in the stirrups before the doctor comes in."

Stirrups?

That is a medical term that is very familiar to any female past the age of puberty, but one that Tim had never heard. He lay on his back, covered by a thin sheet, in total horror as his legs were lifted one at a time into the devices that held his feet and legs spread and elevated so that his entire crotch was exposed and available for all to see or whatever else anyone had in mind for him. Mercifully, the nurse then rearranged the sheet so that it fell between his legs, covering his exposed genitalia. "Thank you," he whispered, fighting the tears. If this was a neutral, completely clinical setting, Tim shuddered at the thought of what he might have gone through had he opted for Eric's proposal, where the expressed intent had been to humiliate and embarrass.

"Hello, Tim," a man said as he entered the OR completely gowned and masked so that only his eyes were showing. "I'm Dr. Sanchez. Dr. Smith and I are partners at this clinic. I will be administering your anaesthetic. I'm sorry I couldn't see you sooner but I assure you I have gone over your medical history thoroughly. Do you have any questions before I put you to sleep?" Tim shook his head. "Anything of a medical nature you need to tell me, like allergy to drugs, anything like that?" Tim shook his head again as he felt the nurse busying herself swabbing his crotch with betadine, then placing green draping cloths all over his lower body. "Very well," the doctor said. "I just need to get an IV going in your hand, and soon you will be floating high above Mexico. Just relax and give me your left hand."

Dr. Smith entered the room, attired the same as everyone else. It could have been anybody, but Tim knew somehow it was his doctor. There were two nurses in the room now, both scurrying around preparing trays of instruments and other surgical devices that Tim had never seen before. "Three more questions before we begin," Dr. Smith said as he approached the bed. "After having reviewed all we know about you, including your interview with Dr. Parrish... err... Roy, I really feel it would be best to castrate you while we're at it. If finances are an issue, I will waive the extra fee."
"No thanks, doctor," Tim said sleepily. Dr. Sanchez had obviously put something in the saline drip that was now flowing into the vein in his hand and Tim was having difficulty forcing his lips to form words. "Thish ish what I'se bee-e-en wa-a-anting for ash lo-o-ong ash I ca-a-an reeema-a-am-m-mber-r-r-r, an-n-n' I do-o-on't wa-a-a-anna messh ittt oopppp n-n-now-w-w-w."
"I understand, but I had to give you one last chance. Now, as I told you earlier, we're going to have to catheterize you. I realize that you have probably suffered more humiliation in the past 24 hours than you had ever thought possible. We can do the catheterization now or after you're asleep. Which would you prefer, Tim?"

Tim thought about the prospect for a moment. The process of slipping a tube up his penis had never been something he had looked forward to, but on the other hand he thought about what he'd like to be the last memory he would have as he went to sleep. He wanted that memory to be something to do with his cock. Ideally it would be the memory of one last ejaculation, but he knew that simply wasn't going to happen. His dick had remained eerily flaccid through all that he'd been through this morning, and he knew any efforts to induce an ejaculation now would be frowned upon by the professionals present, to say nothing of the embarrassment. "D-dooo it-t-t n-n-naow-w-w, p-p-pl-l-leash," he heard himself trying to say. He also noticed that his speech was becoming so slurred he could hardly even understand himself.

The sight, the feel, the thought of that incredibly long looking plastic tube sliding up the inside of his penis was an experience Tim knew he would never forget. Mercifully he was heavily sedated so that he no longer cared about humiliation, could no longer feel pain or, perhaps more accurately, the odd uncomfortable feeling of being catheterized. But this, the insertion of a pee tube inside his dick; the substitution if you will of a body part soon to be retired, would become a memory that Tim would remember for many years to come. This experience, he thought in his semi-conscious state, may very well be the experience that would later influence his attitude, his sense of well-being after he awoke with no penis.

"Carlos asked me to tell you good luck this morning," Dr. Smith said as he prepared his instruments. "He told me that you two had got along very well last night and he wanted you to know that he really enjoyed spending the evening with you." Tim felt his face flame in spite of his drug induced state. What had Carlos told him? Did the good doctor know everything? And if so, what had been his reaction? Now Tim was indeed nervous! The man whose son he had seduced last night was about to go at him with a scalpel, while Tim lay unconscious and helpless on the table.

"Last question," the doctor said as he made various marks on Tim's crotch with a standard magic marker. "We can preserve the external portion of your penis in a bottle if you like. Would you like that, Tim?"
"N-no-o-o!" Tim fairly screamed. The thought of looking at his beautiful penis, that part of his body he loved more than any other, now dead and useless and standing in a bottle, was enough to make Tim almost puke. Had he not been so heavily sedated, read that DRUNK, he probably would have puked!

"Are you all right, Tim?" the nurse asked when she noticed his face. "You look rather flushed."
"I'm-m-m-m o-o-o-oka-a-a-ay," Tim said nervously.
"I'll take his blood pressure once more before he goes to sleep," Dr. Sanchez said. "He does seem pretty uptight."
"Jus-s-sh n-n-n-ner-r-r-rv-v-v-vous-s-s-sh," Tim said defensively. "Thi-i-is-s-sh i-i-is-s-sh m-m-my-y-y f-f-ffir-r-r-rs-s-sht s-s-s-sur-r-r-rg-g-g'ry-y-y-y."

"It's in!" the nurse announced as she plunged the syringe home to secure the catheter in place. Tim didn't have to be told as he felt his bladder empty. He hadn't realized it in his dazed state, but he had evidently had to pee rather badly in spite of his toilet activities not that long ago. Tim could not believe the feeling of relief and well being he had felt as the tube did its job. His bladder collapsed inside him, giving him the strangest sensation he had ever experienced. He realized suddenly that he had peed through his dick for the last time!

"Ok, I guess we're ready," Dr. Smith said after Tim's blood pressure was measured again. The sound of the doctor's voice was muffled and unclear by the time it reached Tim's brain. "Last chance, Tim. Any second thoughts, reversals or changes?"
"No, sir," Tim mumbled only to himself as he shook his groggy head. "Thanks, Dr. Smith, Dr. Sanchez," he added, but what came out was absolutely unintelligible. Tim saw Dr. Smith, positioned between his legs, give a quick nod. Almost immediately he felt an odd numbing feeling flow from his hand up his arm and into his body. The sensation was not unlike that of an orgasm, he thought. And that was the last thought he had as the anaesthetic completely engulfed him and rendered him comatose.

Next: XI Awakenings And Rude Awakenings