Infrequently Asked Questions Part II

Andrew returns to the scene of his penectomy.

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Infrequently Asked Questions
Part II


Q. Hi.  Bet you didn't expect to see me again, did you?

A. As a matter of fact, I didn't.  You're the young man 
named Andrew who had his penis removed here three months 
ago.  I never forget the faces of the very ugly or very 
good-looking customers.  You fit into the latter category.  
Welcome back, though I can't imagine why you're here unless 
it's to complain.  You must realize that all surgery is 
final.  If it was botched in some way, you can't sue us or 
get us to make repairs.  You signed a contract with lots of 
fine print.

Q. It's not that.  Your surgeon did good work, and I got 
what I paid for, I guess.  I'm here to talk to the guy I 
met who's my age.  Can I see him?

A. You must mean Barry, my son. I'll try paging him on the 
intercom.  Barry, would you come to my office?  There's 
someone here to see you. (To Andrew) If he's not busy, I'm 
sure he'll be here in just a moment.

Q.(Barry appears at the doorway) What's up, Dad?

A. Young Andrew here wants to see you.  Perhaps you 
remember him; had his cock chopped a few months ago.

Q. Sure, man.  You're the guy with the cool uncut prick 
that we trimmed about five inches off of, if I remember 
right.  What can I do for you, pal?

A. I'd like to talk to you in private, if you don't mind.

Q. Sure.  Walk with me down to the operating room.  We were 
just cleaning up after an operation.  A guy wanted the big 
toe of his left foot taken off so he could have it mounted 
like a rabbit's foot on a key chain for his girlfriend. 
It's the longest damned toe I've ever seen, and there's no 
nail on it; he says he used to fuck her with it before she 
broke off their relationship.  The key chain is his attempt 
to get her back, I guess.  I've seen just about everything 
now.  Well, here we are.  Remember that operating table 
over there?

A. I'll never forget it.

Q. How's your new stump?

A. I'll show you. (He drops his pants and pulls down his 
shorts.)

Q. Excellent! Looks just like a small cock with no head on 
it.  Can you piss through it okay?

A. No problem.  It just barely clears the zipper of my 
pants, but it works fine for that.  It's sex that's now the 
challenge.

Q. In what way?

A. Duh! If you want me to spell it out for you, it gets an 
erection, if you can call it that, and I can actually 
penetrate my girlfriend with it.  What's left of it is 
still wide enough to give her some satisfaction, but I 
don't feel a fuckin' thing - too much scar tissue, I guess.  
I can finally cum, but only after I've nearly worked my ass 
off with a lot of pelvic strokes. The one time I've been 
with my girlfriend since the operation she seemed patient 
enough at first, but after it was over she just laughed and 
called me a freak with no dick. She won't see me anymore - 
says she wants a guy with normal equipment who can give her 
deep pleasure.

Q. So you regret getting your cock pruned?

A. Not as much I feel betrayed by my girlfriend. (He pulls 
his pants back on and sits down on the edge of the 
operating table.)

Q. Betrayed?

A. Yeah. If anything, she encouraged me to have my cock 
amputated. When I actually went through with it, she didn't 
want me anymore. It's made me bitter enough to try sex with 
a guy for a change.

Q. Did you and this woman have good sex together?

A. It was awesome. Before I had the operation, we had this 
great sex fantasy we played out together in bed. It all 
started when she asked me what would really turn me on. I 
thought about it for a while, laughed and said my biggest 
turn-on would be for her to cut off my cock while it was 
inside her. Our love-making was fantastic for a while 
because I thought she really was going to do it.  She would 
take a sharp kitchen knife and hold the blade to my cock 
and even make little cuts.  But after a while I knew 
subconsciously that she wasn't really going to cut it off, 
and things changed.  The fantasy wasn't all that exciting 
to me anymore until she told me she had heard of a social 
club with people who were into amputations.  I found out 
where the club met and joined. We had a great time watching 
videos of amputations and talking about our fantasies.  To 
keep your membership, you have to get some body part cut 
off within six months or you get kicked out. My position 
was great because I could have kept my membership just by 
getting circumcised.  That's what I intended to do until 
one of the guys came down here and had his whole dick cut 
off.  When he was healed up enough, he came to a club 
meeting and showed off his crotch. It made a sensation. I 
got this huge boner and jerked off three times in the car 
before I could get home. That's when I realized I had 
really wanted to lose my cock ever since I was a small kid. 
I also realized I was probably bisexual. A month later I 
came here.  

Q. So, why are you here again?

A. To find out what happened to my cock.

Q. Why? What good would that do?

A. I'm not sure.  Maybe it's just morbid curiosity.  Maybe 
I miss it or something. I remembered you saying that you 
were about to sell it to a guy who did organ transplants. 
I've thought about it a lot lately.  I guess I'd really 
like to know whether or not some other dude is now wearing 
my cock.  If so, I'd like to know who he is. 

Q. All I know is that I delivered the cock to my doctor 
friend and got paid.  I have no idea what he did with it.  
He does experiments with transplants.  As far as I know, no 
one has ever made a successful transplant of a penis.  
There are just too many nerves and blood vessels besides 
all the trouble with tissue rejection.  Your cock has 
probably been washed down a toilet by now. What's more, it 
was never part of our deal that you should come around here 
asking questions.  Dad's going to get suspicious.  What am 
I going to tell him to explain your second visit just to 
see me?

A. Tell him I wanted you to fuck me.

Q. He sure as hell won't believe that.  He knows I'm 
straight, and he expects me to produce his grandchildren 
some day.  Can't you think of a better story?

A. Let's stop pretending, Barry. Your dad already knows 
about your little deal, since it really originated with 
him.  The three thousand dollars came from him, and it was 
paid to me for my silence.  Not only that, three months ago 
you couldn't have made babies very easily.

Q. What the hell are you trying to say?

A. While I was getting over my operation I had time to do 
some research on my computer.  For the hell of it I looked 
up all the news stories I could find on penis amputations.  
By accident I stumbled onto a story from three years ago 
about a kid in San Diego named Barry Morales, the only 
child of a widower named Hernando Morales. The handsome 
teenager had been abducted by persons unknown at a local 
beach and dragged under a pier; there he was sexually 
assaulted, mutilated and left for dead.  They cut his cock 
off. Bells began to go off inside my head. That Barry 
Morales was you, buckaroo!

Q. That's bullshit. How can you believe that?

A. You could say that I put two and two together.  It was 
really a no-brainer, especially after I found out that one 
of the employees of Hernando's Hideaway Beds, Inc., was a 
Doctor Hugo von Augensburger, a surgeon who specialized in 
human tissue transplants.  I found his name and background 
information in the Austrian Medical Association Journal on 
the internet. He was probably lured here to work for your 
dad with the idea that he could have unlimited access to 
various pieces of human tissue and be able to do his 
experimental work with transplants. But your dad had an 
even more important reason for hiring Dr. von Augensburger.
It all added up.

Q. All right, smartass.  What is all this supposed to add 
up to?

A. You can answer that yourself.

Q. What if I don't?

A. You don't have to say a word. Just drop your pants.  I 
dropped mine for you.  Turn about is fair play.  Go ahead.  
I already know what's inside your shorts.  I used to see it 
fifty times a day.  Drop 'em dude!

(Barry did as he was told.  He stood naked and Andrew's 
eyes widened, for he beheld his own uncircumcised penis now 
joined by a thin line of scar tissue at the base of Barry's 
formerly mutilated shaft.  The penis was even longer now 
than it had been when attached to Andrew.)   

Q. What now?  Will you go to the police?

A. Of course not.  I'm glad to see that my cock has found a 
good home.  I'm also glad to see the transplant took hold. 
I only have one request.

Q. What's that?

A. Barry, I realize that your dad did all this out of love 
for you.  I think that's great.  He expects you to get 
married now that you are anatomically complete once more - 
and he expects you to sire several grandchildren. But 
before you do that, why not tryout your new cock inside my 
ass.  My balls are turning blue because they're so full of 
cum.  I'm hornier than a buck in mating season, and I would 
love to be fucked by my own cock!

(Barry did not say another word.  After Andrew stripped off 
his clothes, got on his back on the operating table and 
raised his legs, Barry, with a raging hard-on, granted his 
donor's request.)