© Justin Cumberland 2007

Chapter Thirteen

During the ad break they took Jason and the other contestants out the back and sewed the device they had received concealed in the box into their scrotums. It was pointless, Jason figured, to go to all this trouble with his own sack, but he supposed it was only fair on the other guys, and particularly on Todd; because if they hadn’t gone to the trouble of at least sewing a dud into Jason’s sack, and making a show of fairness, then Todd, if he had found out about it, would have had reason to complain.

As Jason went into the surgery he met Todd coming out. The kid smiled at him as they passed in the hall and Jason smiled to himself, knowing full well that the kid had just had an explosive device sewed into his scrotum. From the way he smiled you would have thought he didn’t have a care in the world – as though he believed there was no possibility he had received the device.

The surgery was a blue room and, as Jason entered he met the surgeon who was wearing a pair of orange overalls and sitting on a circular stool. He had a dark beard, which was a little disconcerting, but had been watching the show on a monitor which was suspended from the ceiling in one corner of the room and, as Jason came in, the guy said to him, ‘Hey, that’s some friend you’ve got out there!’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Jason said, feeling proud of Garth and the way he was conducting himself, which was being noticed by other people, and not only by himself. ‘He had a pretty hard time,’ Jason added.

The guy frowned. ‘You need to take off the jocks and get up on the table. Here, give me the box,’ he said. ‘No, turn over, mate – face down. You need to get up on your knees but put your head down. No, no, get up on all fours and then put your head and your arms and your shoulders down on the table. Put your chest on the table.. Yeah, like that. Only – you need to stick your arse right up in the air so I can see what I’m doing. Yeah, but here, move your knees apart. Come on, a bit wider.’

Jason let his back sink while he rested his head on the table. He could tell, from the way the guy spoke, that he was from another country. ‘Are you a doctor?’ Jason said.

‘A doctor? I’m a fucking surgeon, mate. A fucking surgeon.’

Even though it was strange, the fact that the guy was smoking a cigarette reassured Jason, because he figured (particularly when he thought about it later) that the guy wouldn’t have done this if he’d thought it was possible for Jason to have the explosive device, which, as it ultimately turned out, he did.

The surgeon opened the box. ‘Have you seen it?’ he said.

Jason tried to shake his head but it was pressed into the table. He had some hair in his mouth. The guy moved around and held the device in front of Jason’s eyes. It was a shiny black disk and looked a bit like a watch without a band, except it was solid, with red letters and numbers where the face should have been. It looked pretty deadly.

‘And that’s a dud!’ Jason said.

‘A dud, eh? Well, it might be,’ he said. ‘And then again, it might not be.’

From the way he said this, Jason could tell that the surgeon was making a joke; and he never could blame the guy afterwards, because it was quite obvious that he had been as sure as Jason that the device really was a dud; and had even gone as far as to kid around with Jason about it which he never would have done if there had been any real danger to Jason’s gear, which, as it turned out, there was.

Jason began to feel quite comfortable. The surgeon was a nice guy; and, apart from having to keep his arse stuck up in the air, Jason didn’t mind being in the blue room for the few minutes that he was there.

‘Well, at least you keep yourself clean!’ the guy said, as he moved around behind Jason. ‘Have you bleached that?’

‘Bleached it?’

The guy didn’t answer. He was concentrating, obviously, and said to Jason, ‘I’m just gonna swab some antiseptic on this and then I’ll make an incision. You might feel something for a second or two. Just grit your teeth till the pain-blocker kicks in.

The guy bent down behind him and Jason could see his face, sideways, looking at him through his legs. ‘Holy shit!’ the guy said. ‘Look at that!’

‘What?’ Jason asked. His face was crushed sideways into the table.

‘The size of your fucking balls! That was quite a hit you took out there.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Jason said, realizing, at the same time, that he was mumbling because his face was pressed into the table.

‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ he said. ‘You’re fucking enormous. The size of your fucking boner!’

Jason went red with embarrassment. He could feel the blood in his head.

‘Hold still now,’ the surgeon said. ‘I’m gonna cut you.’

Jason gritted his teeth and felt a sharp pain at the back of his sack. He saw some blood run along the insides of his thighs; and there were some drips falling onto the table from the space between his legs. He held his breath and waited for the pain-blocker. Within a matter of moments the pain disappeared and, once again, annoyingly, he felt the sensation of pleasure. It coursed along the insides of his thighs where the surgeon had rested one hand and suddenly, without being able to stop himself, Jason jetted a pile of come onto the table. Some of it hit him under the chin.

‘Holy shit!’ the guy said. ‘I’ve never seen that before! What the hell did they give you?’

Jason couldn’t answer. He went red in the face again and felt like he was a little boy who had wet himself accidentally. The surgeon, however, didn’t seem concerned about it. He went on with what he was doing and managed to make Jason feel comfortable with his professional manner as he maneuvered his hands around Jason’s groin, forcing the device into position. As he pushed and worked at Jason’s sack he told him how the base of the device had to sit flat against Jason’s body so that all the explosive power would be directed outward, if the thing ever went off, blowing his balls away but, hopefully, keeping everything else intact.

‘Right. That’s it,’ the guy said. ‘Not that there’s a whole lot of room in there. It’s like a sports sock bursting with tennis balls – and I’ve really had to cram it in. Just hang on and I’ll see if I can close the gap.’

He had a needle and thread. Jason could see the guy working between his legs but he decided not to watch, closing his eyes and thinking about Garth, who must have been feeling bad about what had happened in the saddle round; which had led to his balls being swollen, and which now, as it turned out, was making things difficult for the surgeon who was having trouble closing the incision in his sack, as everything, the guy said, kept wanting to burst out of there.

‘Hang on. Hang on. Oh yeah. That’s gonna come together nicely. Had to use a bit more thread, but yeah, that’s got it.’

The guy stopped speaking and Jason remained motionless – careful not to move until he was told. ‘I’m just gonna clean you up,’ the surgeon said. He walked to the sink and wet a cloth with warm water before coming back and cleaning Jason’s sack, the insides of his thighs, his dick and even the crack of his arse, which, although Jason hadn’t felt it, must have been splattered with blood. The warm cloth felt good and Jason began to feel sleepy, calmed by the atmosphere in the room and the feel of the warm cloth in his crack. He began to drift off and was startled when the guy suddenly said, ‘You know mate, you can put your arse down.’

The surgeon was sitting on a chair beside Jason. He was checking something on a clipboard.

Jason let his arse drop, only to feel, as he did so, a sudden jolt of pain as his sack squashed underneath him. The device made things uncomfortable.

‘Here. Get up and sit on the edge,’ the guy said. ‘I’ve gotta give you an injection.’

‘Another one?’

‘Yeah, well, that’s what it says here. How many did they give you?’

‘Seven.’

‘Seven? Are you fucking serious?’

Jason nodded.

‘Did they put one in your dick?’

‘Two,’ Jason said.

‘Two? Oh, fuck! This can’t be right.’ He left the room and came back again only to give Jason the injection anyway.

‘Is it right?’ Jason asked.

‘Yeah. It’ll be fine, mate.’ He emptied the syringe into Jason’s cock and, as he did so, Jason felt his cock trying to rear up in the surgeon’s hand. Fortunately the surgeon had been able to get one hand around most of it and he was gripping it firmly while he emptied the syringe into the eye with his other hand. He pulled the needle out and stood up. ‘Fucking hell,’ he said, looking down at Jason. ‘They’re gonna love you.’

Jason looked down and realized now that his cock was swelling to a ridiculous size. He could see it growing. It had never been this big before. He watched the skin stretch till it was shiny and smooth. It looked like it was going to burst; and there was no way, he realized, that he was going to get it to go down again any time soon, and certainly not before it was time to go back onstage. His sack seemed to be getting larger also, larger than it should have been even with the device inside it, which seemed strange, until he remembered that it had been only ten or twenty minutes since he had received the hit, which meant that his balls were still swelling, and, as they had when Garth had hit him with the baseball bat, they would be for some time yet.

Jason touched his sack gingerly. ‘Does it look stupid?’ he said.

‘Stupid? Mate, it looks like it’s gonna explode – without any help.’