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Daddy made me wear a floppy hat and sunglasses when we left the hotel and got into the rental car. I was used to this. Fans were always hanging around our hotels or venues. We went through the checkpoints and into Tinajuna. The guards paid particular attention to us, and went through our suitcases. Daddy said it was because we were black and had a nice car. Daddy didn’t tell me where we were going, or what we were doing, but daddy was often like that. We drove through the touristy parts of the town and ended up in a residential neighborhood. Two boys about my age ran behind the car and a beautiful young Mexican woman greeted us as we entered the long driveway. They couldn’t speak any English, but the woman had a wonderful smile. Once we were inside, a handsome man with a thick mustache greeted us, introducing himself as Dr. Hernandez. “Ah, so you are my famous young patient!” “Yes, sir.” “This is my wife Anita, my son Juan, and who are you?” he repeated his question in Spanish, and got a quick answer. “This is my son’s friend, Simon.” “Nice to meet you,” I said and shook hands with everyone. “Well, let’s begin,” he gave a command in Spanish to the young woman. She directed me into a back room. Daddy, the doctor, and the boys followed us. “Take off your clothes, son,” the doctor ordered. I looked to daddy and his stern look in return made it clear that he expected me to obey the doctor’s commands. I pulled off my hat and T-shirt, then my shoes and socks, then my bell-bottoms, placing them all on the chair next to the door. I could feel my erection, so I hesitated to take off my underpants. I glanced at the young woman but I was just as embarrassed to be naked in front of the two Mexican boys. The doctor had his back towards us; he was working at a counter top. “Everything,” Daddy ordered, and knowing how daddy could be, I slipped out of my underpants, dropped them with the rest of my clothes and covered my erection by holding it against my tummy. I was fast and sure they only got a glimpse. Juan’s friend giggled. The doctor turned around. “OK, let’s see what we have here. Put your hands to your sides.” I glanced at the pretty woman, then to the doctor, but before he could respond I could hear daddy shuffling behind me and I quickly obeyed. My erection flipped out but I didn’t dare glance over to see if the others were looking. The doctor graciously ignored it and gently felt my testicles. “Good, good. This should present no problem.” The doctor said, glancing up at daddy. I finally got the courage to glance over to the pretty woman. She was working at the doctor’s examination table, laying a large piece of cardboard on the floor. The boys had already laid a large sheet over the table. It had a pale flower pattern. The doctor put his hand on my shoulder and guided me toward the woman and the table. She smiled at me and I smiled back. Daddy sat on top of my clothes on the chair next to the door. He looked bored and impatient. The doctor pushed me ahead of him toward the pretty lady and onto the cardboard and up against the covered table. I pressed my erection against the soft cloth, satisfied that my privacy was protected. I glanced over at the boys, and could see their shorts tenting out. The lady placed her hands-- palms up-- on the table and the doctor ordered me to hold them. They were warm and soft. She gave me a big, reassuring smile and I smiled back. She was so pretty. I could see the tops of her soft breasts. The doctor gently tapped my ankles with his shoes indicating that I should spread my legs. The pretty lady was squeezing and stroking my hands and looking into my eyes. My legs were spread almost as far as possible when the doctor stopped tapping at my ankles. “My wife is also my nurse. Isn’t she beautiful?” The doctor asked while he gently strapped my ankles to the legs of the table. “And my son is my assistant.” He didn’t explain Simon’s function. “Yes, sir,” I replied as the beautiful woman continued to stare into my eyes. The doctor stopped working around my ankles and stepped away for a moment. The boys whispered to each other. The lady glanced up over my head, then down at me again. She leaned closer, and I could see down between her breasts. It made me feel good, and the feeling was even better when I pressed my erection into the soft cushion. One of the boys climbed up on top of my back, and then grabbed my butt and spread my cheeks apart. She took a tight hold of my wrists and then leaned back slightly. We both continued to smile. Someone put their hand between my legs and took hold of my nuts. “Ohhhhh!” I shouted out, feeling a painful poke into the back of my ball sack, and into the root of my hard-on. I tried to look behind me, but the lady gripped my wrists and leaned farther back, her weight holding me down on the table. She started babbling in Spanish and tried to soothe me with her sympathetic expression. She leaned even closer to me, and I felt her breast brush against one of my hands. “Quiet Michael!” daddy ordered from his chair. But my fears only increased as the initial invasion of pain became a wave of numbness. It felt like what the dentists does, except it took over my lower body. With tears flooding my eyes I pleaded with the pretty woman to let go of my hands so I could begin my escape, the sympathy in her expression was countered by the strength with which she held my wrists. But nothing additional happened, and soon I relaxed again. The boys started chatting and giggling in Spanish until the lady “shushed” them. I could hear daddy and the doctor from the other side of the room, quietly discussing his fee, and then the hot weather. I could feel Juan shifting around on my naked back. “Tell me if you feel this.” The doctor ordered. “I don’t feel anything.” “Let’s begin, then.” The doctor stopped for just long enough for me suck in a breath. I could barely feel Juan spreading my behind again, and the soft clinks and scratches of the doctor picking up his instruments. I squirmed as a faint, distant pain violated my sack. “I feel something now.” I complained, but no one acknowledged me. Then another throb of pain rolled out from somewhere deep within me, this time not from my sack, but from its contents, also from deep inside me. I began to panic. I only wanted to know what was happening. I could feel myself pissing onto the table, but I had no will to stop. I forced my face into the sheet and moaned into it, so embarrassed. I heard a thump on the cardboard under my feet, and felt in my toes the vibration. The pain ebbed somewhat and I looked again into the sympathetic eyes and soft breasts of the woman holding my wrists. She smiled reassuringly, her head cocked to one side. A hand patted my behind gently. I heard Juan ask something, and the doctor’s terse reply. The lady again tried to soothe me with her soft Spanish words. Then the doctor began again and another wave of pain rolled out from somewhere far away. “OK, amigo. the worst is over. Just a few stitches now,” the doctor announced behind me. But the pain kept flowing back to me in waves as he worked. Finally the woman loosened her grip and bent over to kiss my forehead. The hand again patted my bare behind. “She says you have been a very brave boy!” The doctor interpreted. “Ohhhhh, it hurts!” I moaned out as I tried to move. I pulled my arms away from the woman and tried to straighten up, but the pain was bad, even cutting through the numbness. Juan untied my ankles as the doctor washed his hands. I didn’t dare move my legs together for the pain, but I slowly pushed myself up off the table and looked down to see the sheet wet with blood, sweat and urine. I could see my penis, now a little nub shrunken into my tummy. But I couldn’t see the source of the pain. The boys gently took my arms and turned me away from the table. And the lady wet a cloth and gently cleaned the blood off my thighs. The boys continued to stare at what I was unable, or unwilling to examine. The adults looked on sympathetically—even daddy—as the boys lead me out of the examination room and into a small bedroom. I waddled along with my legs as far apart as possible, but still the pain attacked. Finally we all got to the bed and boys helped me sit and then lie back. The woman put a rolled up pillow under each of my knees so that I could keep my legs in a comfortable position. She gave me some pills and a glass of Coke. I must have gone to sleep, I woke up and remembered what had happened, not sure if it wasn’t all a dream. But the screaming pain in my balls wasn’t a dream at all. I got up the courage to lean forward enough to push my penis into my tummy and see what was underneath. All I could see was my sack, swollen, and black and blue. Soon after that the adults appeared again, led by the doctor. The nice lady again kissed my forehead. “It is looking very good, Mr. Jackson. No bleeding. It is actually a very simple operation. We will give him antibiotics to protect against infection and he should be ready to travel in a few days.” The doctor spread my thighs with his hands and they all inspected the area. “You need to thank the doctor, Michael. If he hadn’t been willing to do this operation, we would have lost your voice in a few months. Just like Jerome lost his.” “Thank you, Doctor. But it hurts.” I wasn’t happy about what I just went through, but just the thought of having Jerome’s voice made me shudder. “It is quite all right,” he patted my thigh. My family and I are happy to be of service. We will get you something for your pain.” Later Juan, Simon and another boy came into the room, chasing a soccer ball. At first they just ignored me and searched the drawers of the dresser. I decide it must usually be Juan’s bedroom. They came over to the bed with a pad and pencil stub. I was so used to this that I gave them my autograph without a second thought. Juan left the room and returned with a hand held mirror and only then could I see the stitches in the base of my scrotum, almost hidden within my crotch. The other boys took a look as Juan patted my hip. Again I could see the bulge of their erections. Mine even began to stir awake, but as it stiffened the pain increased, and I tried to think of my music, or anything other than the boys staring at my wound and chatting. Then Juan reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out a plastic bag with two small giblets in it. He pointed at my crotch and then at the bag and I finally put it all together. “Poco castrato!” the new boy whispered excitedly. They all giggled, then kicked the soccer ball out of the room and ran after it. Juan went last, stuffing the plastic bag back into his pocket and singing one of my most popular songs in English: A, B, esC Easy as 1, 2, tree…”
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