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I'll never forget my senior year of high school when I was 17. That's the year that I accidentally knocked up Betty-Mae. We'd been going in for heavy petting, but no penetration, for several months. It was a hot evening in early September and we decided to go skinny-dipping together at Addison Lake. We swam for a while and then fooled around bare-assed on the beach. Not having jerked off for a week, I was very horny, but still, all we did was kiss and rub our bodies together. I was on top and rubbing my prick against her belly when, all of a sudden, my overloaded balls popped. I blew my wad all over her, shooting jism all over her belly and thighs. Some of it ran into her cunt. She said that she could feel it pouring into her. Quickly, she jumped up and ran to the lake to wash my jism off her body and try to flush it out of her cunt before it got to her womb. It didn't seem very likely that she could get pregnant that way. After all, lots of married couples fuck several time a week for their entire lives and never have a kid even though they want one.Still, we both sweated out her next period. Well, she missed it. Oh shit ! Now what do we do ? Marriage seemed out of the question. I had no job except soda-jerking evenings after school and I didn't have a trade or know anything I could do to earn a decent income . I was sure that her parents wouldn't want her to marry a guy with no job and no prospects, but her old man would probably kill me if he found out that I'd knocked her up, even though it was an "immaculate conception." After all, she still had her cherry. The only alternative was abortion which was illegal. No reputable doctor would perform an illegal operation. I made discrete (but not very) inquiries among my friends. Did anybody know of a doctor who performed illegal operations, and how much would he charge ? The answers I got were "no" and "about $100." My family and I weren't well-off, strictly blue-collar. I couldn't ask my old man for $100 for an abortion, even if I dared to. $100 may not have been a king's ransom, but it was close enough. Then, one day after school, a guy named Sheldon, whom we all knew about and avoided, spoke to me just outside the school. Sheldon had a bad reputation as a pimp, petty crook, and dope peddler. I didn't want to talk to him, but there was nobody else around at the moment, so I listened. "Hey, buddy," he said. "I hear you're looking for a 'certain kind' of doctor. I know one." "You would", I thought. "How much does he want ?" I asked. "$100, but it's 'negotiable.' Mention my name and maybe he'll give you a better deal. " "Shit, Sheldon, I don't even know your name." "LaTour, Sheldon LaTour." "so, who is this doctor ? " "Dr. Fleischhacker; his office is in a duplex on Myrtle St., 399 Myrtle St. Remember; mention my name." "Yeah, OK, thanks Sheldon." I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with anybody that Sheldon recommended, but I didn't have any other leads, so I decided that I'd better try. Myrtle street is only 6 blocks from Weber High, so I walked over and following instructions taped on the door, rang the doorbell and went in. I sat down in the parlor which the National Geographics showed to be a waiting room, and in a couple of minutes a young man and a girl came thru the other door. She looked as if she had been thru hell and walked painfully, holding her groins with both hands. He looked very embarrassed to see that there was someone in the waiting room. A moment later, Dr. Fleischhacker poked his head thru the door and called out "Next". I went into his office and , being sure to tell him that Sheldon LaTour had sent me, explained my problem. I took an instant dislike to Dr. Fleischhacker. He was fat, greasy-looking, and had a nasal voice and a thin pencil-line moustache. I explained that I couldn't raise $100 for the abortion, at least, not all at once. So, I asked him if he could set up some kind of time-payment plan whereby I could pay him, maybe, $20 down and then $10 per week until the charge was paid off. He laughed and said in a sneering tone, "Oh sure. You pay me $20. I perform the operation, and then I never see you again What kind of a fool do you take me for ?" "Sheldon told me that the price might be negotiable." I said. "And, so it is, my lad." replied Dr. Fleischhacker. "If you were to give me something of great value to you, I might perform the abortion without further charge." "But, I don't own anything of great value !" I complained. "Oh yes, you do." said Dr. Fleischhacker softly. "Your balls." "MY BALLS" I shouted. "Are you crazy ?" Dr. Fleischhacker laughed and said "You have not thought about the matter. If you really love Betty-Mae, you would do anything for her. You would sacrifice anything for her - ANYTHING ! It was your balls which got you into this predicament. Now, they can get you out of it. "Look !" The doctor opened the doors of a white enamelled steel cabinet about five feet high which contained eight shelves on each of which were seven to eight squat glass jars each of which contained two egg-shaped objects. When I realized what they were, I nearly puked. "Many other young men have found themselves in the same situation and have paid my price. You have no other alternative. I am the only abortionist in this area. You can either scrape up $100 before Betty-Mae starts looking as if she'd swallowed a basketball.....or you can add your balls to my collection." "Tomorrow is Saturday. I can take her at 2:00 PM. You would come in at 10:00 AM. Your operation would take about 20 minutes. You'd have about three and one-half hours to recover from the immediate effects of the surgery before driving her here. That's my offer. Now, I have another patient coming in in a few minutes. If you'll excuse me......" Saying which, he showed me out of the office. I hadn't actually agreed to his fiendish bargain, but what else could I do ? I went home and called Betty-Mae and told her that I'd be picking her up at about 1:45 tomorrow to get her fixed. I devoted most of the rest of the day to jerking off while I could still do it. As I drove to Dr. Fleischhacker's office the next morning in my old jalopy, I felt as if I were walking the "last mile" to the electric chair. I tried not to think about what that fiend was going to do to me. Actually, the operation wasn't much of an ordeal at all. He shot novocaine into my bag and , after a few minutes, into my cords and waited until my balls went numb. He took them in his hand and squeezed them very hard and then laughed. "Obviously, the anaesthetic has taken effect. You'd be screaming bloody murder if it hadn't. " I looked up at the ceiling and tried not to see what he was doing . For some reason, though, I couldn't bring myself to shut my eyes. So, as he removed each of his instruments from the autoclave, I could see it and guess what it was going to be used for. I could hear what he was doing also, so I knew when he cut my bag open. After he fished my balls out of it, he pulled on them, and I felt that high up in my groins, beyond the range of the novocaine . I didn't really see or hear him tying the cords, but I certainly heard the "snip, snip" of the surgical scissors as he cut my cords. I saw my severed balls as he held them up just before dropping them into the jar of formalin which I recognized by its smell. He quickly stitched up my bag and put dressings on it held in place with adhesive tape, rather like giant Band-Aids. He seemed very cheerful, even gleeful and sent me off with a cheery "See you at two." Once the novocaine wore off, I felt pretty shitty. My bag stung and burned and my groins ached. Worse, though, I felt very weak. At 1:45, I picked Betty-Mae up and drove her to Dr. Fleischhacker's office. When she saw how the girl who left the office just before our appointment looked, she didn't want to go in. I reminded her that the operation was pre-paid and I could NOT get a refund. of course, she had no idea of WHAT I had paid. The abortion took about one-half hour. Finally, I couldn't ignore what I had given up and what it would mean for the rest of my life. I sat there brooding over my sacrifice.When Betty-Mae came out of the doctor's office, she was obviously in pain . She was also in a bitchy mood. "Well, I hope you're satisfied. I've had my insides scraped. I've been through hell." Stung and deeply hurt after my terrible sacrifice, I snapped "If you're satisfied, I am." "What do you know about it ?" snarled Betty-Mae. "You haven't suffered." There was no one else in the waiting room. I yelled "Oh yeah ? Look ?' With that I dropped my pants and undershorts and held up my hamstrung prick. Betty-Mae screamed and fainted. I pulled up my pants, picked her up, and set her on the couch. "I don't understand." she said when she awoke. Dr. Fleischhacker poked his head thru the door and I told him that everything was OK. "I'll tell you about it on the way home." I replied to Betty-Mae. In the car I explained about my pact with the devil and the price I'd paid for her operation. She cried most of the way home.Talking the whole business over later, we agreed that we could never marry and might as well taper off the dating. I managed to hide my condition pretty well from the guys in school. I wore my gym shorts under my pants and skipped the showers on days when I had PE classes. It was harder to hide it from my folks, but I pretended to shave in the morning and nobody (except me) noticed that I didn't have piss boners in the morning any more.The weight gain and the small but noticeable tits were harder to hide. If my folks thought that there was anything peculiar about my having lost interest in girls, they never mentioned it. I have a small apartment of my own now and manage a hamburger stand. I spend a lot of time playing with my limp noodle because it still feels good even though nothing happens when I do. Betty-Mae is married and has two kids, one of each. Somehow, this is NOT the life I had expected when I was 17. |