"Er, is Cory in ?" I asked. "Yes, Matthew, come in." he replied. There was something about the tone of his voice that I didn't like. He led me to his office and said "Come in here. I want to talk to you." By this time, alarm bells were going off in my head. They became deafening when he locked the door after us. He sat down behind his desk but didn't offer me a seat. 

   "This morning, as is my custom on the day before Labor Day, I gave Cory his annual physical examination. When I examined his anus, I found it to be patulous, that is, gaping open, and surrounded by a large conical depression between the buttocks. This is known as an infundibulum, the Latin word for funnel, and is regarded in courts of law as prima facie evidence of sodomy. Inasmuch as you have been his constant companion for about three years, no one else has had an equal or better opportunity to have sodomized Cory often enough to have brought about this deformity of the anus.

   Mustering all of the nonchalance of which I was capable, I asked Cory in as casual a tone as possible, 'So, how long as Matthew been putting his penis up there ?' There is a popular expression these days, 'Be sure brain is engaged before putting mouth in gear.' , a lesson Cory has yet to learn unless he learned it this morning. Without thinking, he replied 'Oh, about a year.' Then, realizing what he had he had said, he backtracked, exclaiming 'No, no, never. I don't know what you're talking about !'

   'Cory, you just gave yourself, and Matthew, away. There's no point in trying to weasel out of it now. Get dressed, go up to your room, and stay there until I call you.' At that point, I would have been quite within my rights to telephone the police. Sodomy, per se, is a crime, but, even more importantly, Cory is below the age of consent which is 16 in this state. Cory is only 14 and you are 17. What you have been doing, then, is not merely sodomy, which would be bad enough, but child abuse.

   When Cory left the room he was blushing bright scarlet with shame and embarrassment. I considered, therefore, the effects upon him of having to testify at your trial on these charges. The  ensuing scandal would utterly disgrace him, me, you (a matter of no concern to me) and your family. Obviously, I would prefer to avoid this unless you leave me no other choice. I am not prepared to allow you to go unpunished. However, I am prepared to offer you an alternative to disgrace, incarceration, and abuse, if not murder, by your fellow prisoners. 

   I had considered castrating you, but, in this age of hormone replacement therapy, that would be a futile gesture which would not prevent you from repeating your offence. I am, as you may be aware, a neurosurgeon. I propose to resect, that is, to remove sections of, certain nerves to your penis, thus rendering it useless for sexual activity. Unlike castration which, if untreated, would lead to obesity and gynecomastia, this operation would have no visible effects upon your body. Even another physician would be unlikely to notice the small scar in the perineum and would have no inkling that the nerves to your penis had been resected.

   This is the only alternative which I shall offer you. Either you submit to the surgery or I shall telephone the police. Do you have any questions ?" I thought about it for a moment and then asked " Exactly what effects will cutting these nerves have on my penis ?" "Severing the pudendal nerve will deprive the penis of any feeling whatsoever. Unless you take ahold of it or look at it , you will not even notice that you have a penis . The other nerves which I shall resect are involved in erection. Once they are severed, your penis will be permanently flaccid. Therefore, you will never be able to commit sodomy again.

   I believe that you have had enough time to decide. Shall I call the police, or will you submit to the surgery ? " It was Hobson's Choice, of course, but I chose the operation. Dr. Frye opened the door to the operating room and said "Very well. go into the operating room and remove all of your clothing." I did and, a moment later, Dr. Frye came in . He stared for a moment at my big cock and mumbled "Well, now I can understand the size of the infundibulum." Dr. Frye told me to lie on the operating table and them scrubbed up and put on his gown, mask, and gloves.

   He propped up my ass with a cushion laid my cock on my right leg and taped it in place by the foreskin and trussed up my balls with a piece of gauze bandage and adhesive tape, to keep them out of the way. He had me spread my legs as widely as I could and carefully washed and disinfected my crotch. He was kind enough to inject a local anaesthetic into my crotch, though I suspect that he did it mainly so that I wouldn't thrash about and mess up his delicate neurosurgery.

   Most of the time, I stared up at the ceiling while he put my cock out of business. I know that he made a short incision in my perineum and reached in with a blunt hook, caught a white thread-like thing, the pudendal nerve, I guess, twisted it for a while, and then cut it close to the incision. I supposed he did the other nerves the same way. I didn't watch. Then he sutured the incision and put "Nu Skin" on it (I recognized the smell.)

   "I have used absorbable sutures so that you will not have to return to have them removed. When you wipe your anus, be sure to wipe backward, away from the incision to keep it clean until it heals.I have only one more thing to say to you. STAY AWAY FROM CORY ! Don't EVER come near him or speak to him again. You have probably ruined his life. but there is a slim possibility that he will develop a normal interest in the opposite sex if he is not further exposed to your corrupting influence. Now go home."

   It wasn't long before I found out what kind of a hell Dr. Frye had doomed me to. I've got a nice, big, healthy pair of balls hanging down there to make me horny with no way to relieve myself. I can't even jerk off. If I'm VERY horny, blowing a guy will give me an orgasm, but that's the exception, not the rule. Maybe taking it up the ass would help me get my rocks off, but I've got a very tight asshole and I get piles easily. I've had three operations for thrombosed external hemorrhoids already and I'm only 17. God, I wish he had castrated me, too.

   Two days after the operation, Cory called me up. "Please forgive me, Matty. I didn't mean to rat on you. He tricked me." "It's OK, Cory. I know. He told me all about how he tricked you. He was obviously very proud of himself." "You must be going through Hell." "You'd better believe it. I'm horny enough to jump out of my skin and I can't do anything about it. I wouldn't be any worse off if he'd cut my cock off. If only I could take it up the ass, I think I  could get my rocks off. But I can't. My fuckin' asshole is too tight." "I know what to do about that, Matty. Did you ever hear of a speculum ?" "No, what's that ?" "It's a dilator for openings in the body. The Romans invented it over 2000 years ago and it's made the same way today. It's got 3 or 4 smooth prongs to insert into the opening. Turning a screw spreads them apart, stretching the opening. If you could get ahold of one of those, you could gradually open up your asshole until you could take a cock up there."

    "How the hell did you learn about that ? "Hey, I may be thoughtless, but I'm not as stupid as dad thinks. How do you think I was able to open up my asshole enough to take that big thing of yours ?"  "You mean you've got one ? !" "Yep. It's dad's, but he never uses it. What the hell does a neurosurgeon need a speculum for ? He's probably had it since he was a general practitioner. Dad'll be working late at the hospital tonight. I'll sneak it over to you." "Be careful !" "Don't worry, I will."

   I'd given up on Cory's coming over, figuring that Dr. Frye had come home early or something, and gone to bed when I saw a flashlight beam playing on my bedroom ceiling. I looked out in the yard and saw Cory down there. I climbed out my bedroomn window. ran down the porch roof, shinnied down the trellis and ran across the yard into Cory's arms. I kissed him and groped him. He handed me a strange-looking gadget which I stuffed into my briefs, which was all I was wearing. Then I opened Cory's fly, pulled out his prick, squatted down and blew him. Realizing that I was going to come, I pulled my cock out of my briefs just in time. When Cory came in my mouth, I shot into the grass through my numb lifeless prick. I kissed Cory again and he got onto his bike and rode off.

   Back in my room, I examined the speculum. It was clear how it worked and I decided to try it immediately. I got some Vaseline from the bathroom and greased up the prongs and slid them into my asshole. I turned the screw as far as I could before it began to hurt, but I could see that I was going to be able to use it to enlarge my asshole. Now, why didn't Dr. Drew think of that when I was having all that trouble with piles ?

   Every night for the next month, I used the speculum, cranking it open a little more each night. When it got to the point where I could shove a D-cell MagLite up my ass, I knew that I was ready to be buttfucked. I already knew where to go for that.

   Dad had helpfully warned me against ever going down under the Buckland Bridge because "degenerates" who preyed on boys hung out there. I got my first blow job at 13 under the west pier of the Buckland Bridge, shielded by bushes and trees from both the road above and the river below.

   When I went down there the next day, the usual crowd of odds and sods was hanging out there, not just hairdressers and interior decorators, but also truckdrivers, sailors, a professional wrestler, and a championship middleweight boxer. (Not all at once, of course, but from time to time.)  When I arrived, a black bodybuilder was lifting a dumbbell with one hand and stroking an enormous boner with the other. 

   Of  course, I was wearing no underwear, so I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them and bent over. I figured that this would be the acid test of how well I'd dilated my asshole. In a rumbling subterranean bass voice, the bodybuilder said. "You'd better go down on this and get it real wet if you wanta take it up yo' ass." I did, but made sure to stop before he came. I wouldn't mind blowing this ebony hunk but that wasn't what I'd come there for. I bent over again and he put his hands on my hips and then said. "Yo' ass don't look very experienced t' me." I replied "It isn't, but I aim to change that right now." He chuckled and put the bulbous head of his mighty shaft against my sphincter and pushed. For a moment, I feared that I still hadn't dilated it enough, then the glans popped thru the ring and he was on his way up inside me.

    I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Nothing had EVER felt so good. His huge whang was rubbing against my sensitive and overloaded prostate gland. I tried to no avail not to come too soon, but, to my surprise, something wonderful happened. I began to come and then I just kept coming. I couldn't stop ! Jism was just pouring out of my limp pecker. I gasped out "Fuck you, Dr. Frye." "Who Dr. Frye ?" asked the black stud. "The bastard who cut out the nerves to my prick so I can't fuck any more." "Why he do dat ?" "Because he found out I was cornholing his boy." "Gotta watch out fo' dat" said the man who was doing the same to me."Thanks," I said  "I sure need that advice now." My black stud laughed heartily and gave me a jism enema. When he pulled out, I finally stopped coming.

   "God" I gasped, exhausted. "That was the greatest." "Well, dey plenty mo' where dat come f'om. I be down here ervy day.

 See ya." Pulling on a pair of skin-tight bicycle shorts, he swaggered off. I sat down on a rock to catch my breath while his jism ran out of my gaping asshole onto the rock.

   If I thought I was going to go home and rest, I was mistaken. A bare-chested man in well-worn tight jeans and a green hard hat came down the path, preceded by about 9 inches of hardon protruding from his open fly. It was uncircumcised and almost as thick as the black bodybuilder's monster whang. As far as I was concerned, he could have me at either end. It turned out that he wanted both. 

   "Can I help you ?" I asked politely. He replied "Sure. Go down on this." I eagerly obliged. Wrapping my lips over my teeth, I went to work on the glans with my tongue. "Shit. You really know how, don't you ?" I would have said "We aim to please." but I couldn't communicate very well with a mouth full of cock. While I was blowing the construction worker, a sailor came down the path with his prick sticking out of his pants., I was ready to let him fuck me, but instead he groped the construction worker's ass. To my surprise, he undid his belt, dropped his jeans, and said "Plug in." The sailor wasted no time doing just that. So now, the hard-hat was Lucky Pierre and enjoying it mightily. He came soon afterward and I sucked out every drop I could  running my thumb along the duct on the underside of his cock to work out every last drop. 

   Interestingly enough, he didn't lose his boner. The sailor soon shot his load and left. The hard-hat said "Bend over." I was amazed that he wanted more sex again so soon, but I wasn't about to argue with him. Soon I was coming again, and coming, and coming........The hard-hat made it last for about 15 minutes before finally giving me his second load and leaving me ready to collapse from sheer exhaustion. 

   After the hard-hat left, I put on my shorts and was ready to leave when I was scared shitless to see a motorcycle cop coming down the path.....until I noticed that his pants were standing out over a very conspicuous hardon. I couldn't tell much about his facial expression behind his silvered sunglasses, but when he spoke, I knew I had nothing to worry about. "Been waiting just for me, have you ? How about giving me a hand, or better yet, a mouth on this ?" I replied "Why certainly, officer. I always believe in supporting our police." "I've got a jockstrap for that." he answered. I laughed and squatted down. 

   I do give uncommonly good blow jobs and this time was no exception. His moans, sighs, gasps, and "Oh God"'s showed that he appreciated my efforts. I swear that man must have been saving his jism since Christmas. I thought he'd never stop coming. Finally, I worked the last drop out of his prick which collapsed into total limpness. He looked rather wilted himself. "God, kid, you give better head than any woman ever born." With that he left.

   I once saw a Tom & Jerry cartoon in which Tom, the cat, tries to stay awake to catch Jerry by drinking coffee all night. Toward morning he sloshed when he walked. I was so full of jism by this time that I was surprised that I didn't slosh when I walked. On my way home, I was as happy as I have ever been to realize that my sex life was not over and I would not have to put up with endless frustration just because my cock doesn't work.