This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 17; the seventeenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
This question is what everyone asks me these days, “What happened to your ____________ Mr. Antony?” Where you can fill the blank with dick, penis, man gland, pole, phallus, hairy ‘ne, lollipop etcetera etcetera. I just stare at them with an open mouth till they get fed up and leave, how can I tell them that even I don’t know what happened to my lil’ baby. A man would go to any extent to save his crotch from getting thrashed, for that instance I never allowed a woman to give me a BJ because I always feared that while in her mouth she might just bite it off, like a dog tearing a piece of tendon from a chicken’s bone. I always feared what’s happen if my penis got struck between the zipper of my pant, for me pain was synonymous with penis. Girls, I know that the little incident that I’m going to tell you now is a bit over the top, but what can I do? I can’t help it, after all it’s a part of my body that went missing, and I’ve recently heard that they cut women’s genitals in Africa, so I guess you are also easily susceptible for an attack. It’s the same thing with which you play your night fantasies, the same thing that gives you cute little babies and it’s the same thing that I’ve lost. I’ve forever lost the freedom to pee and the freedom to fuck. I can’t do the former without the plastic tube and can’t do the latter anyway. And to the guys, yes this story is grisly for you too, but when was the last time when you were happy when heard chop and penis in the same sentence, let alone getting it really chopped or getting pierced it with needles? If it can happen to me then it can happen to you too.
The place was the exact opposite to what I expected it to be. There were no red velvet curtains, there were no naked models inviting us in and there was no fucking music. It looked like a broken down hospital, I don’t know what security concerns they had but I was brought in there blindfolded. The place was seedy and it was dark, it in fact reminded me of my high school toilet, where once I ran in so fast, to do the act that I slipped on the broken tiles and plunged head first into the dirty urinal which they washed once a year. There were a few bunk beds arranged in a row, Dex asked me if I’d prefer a solo or a group. I told him that I’d prefer a solo this time. He asked me to go sit on one of the bunk beds and that the girls would come in soon. I waited there for ten minutes and still there was no sign of the girls. There was a small cupboard beside the bed on which I was sitting on, and I heard soft voices. I dismissed them as a mere hallucination created by my tired mind. But just when I was deciding to leave the place, the cupboard door boomed open, with loud music playing from deep below. Before my eyes could even focus on what was going there, a few flashed white came onto me, pinning me on the bed, before I could even say a word, I was undressed and there was a naked woman sitting on top of my face.
“Darling, darling, darling. Got bored and wanted to leave huh? Now Missus Samantha’s girls won’t let you go until you finish us three and leave as satisfied”
They were covered in lace, their plump breasts asking for all the attention in the world piercing my eyes into a billion pieces.
“Look what he’s got here Mary. Mmmm. Makes me go nuts, ah! How I would like to take it in first…I…”
“Look here, he’s mine first, I want him to come inside me, move aside…”
I woke up somewhere in between the Eastern Train station and the Burlington cemetery, (you know the place where they buried that guy, Tallahan – The rapist. It’s about 40 kilometers from where I live, I think you know the bakery down my street, one should just take a left and drive around the hill, till you find Sadie’s cove.) I felt groggy and the sound of the waves was like heavy metal to my sensitive ears. I had trouble getting up, the road was slimy, the mud and shit of the entire city travelled on those old car tires got settled here. I got up, and I realized that I was almost naked, except for a small two piece hospital gown. I didn’t know where I was and I didn’t know why I was like that. I felt light, there was something wrong and I didn’t know what it was. I walked and I felt something slimy lubricating the motion between my legs. I looked down, and I could see the road. The contour didn’t change, and something black fell down slowly (like honey). A few flies came out of nowhere and I felt an itch. I put my hand inside my gown and I didn’t find it.
“You didn’t find it? That has to be the shittiest joke anyone has told me till date. You must’ve had a sex change…”
“Someone cut it, and I don’t know who”
Post 9/11, air travel became a new genre of horror. I was going to Harley from Westwind, I found a site which mentioned about one S. Lee Sex Shop. But the full body scan at the airport caught the attention of the police. They were quick to surround me, with their automatic rifles pointed at me at point blank range. They asked me to put my luggage down which I readily agreed. One guy came from behind pulled my legs and in a second I was down, with two policemen on me and my hands firmly held back with a pair of thick, steel handcuffs. I was dragged away to the interrogation room, wherein I was made to strip my underwear too. The woman who was interrogating me was stunned, and so was the assisting detective.
“Ummm.. What’s that pipe?”
“Well, it’s my urinary, urinary… duct if you want to call it.”
It’s so happens that the Cuban mafia transported liquid cocaine in a small plastic bottle concealed in their underwear. The police got suspicious, after they noticed my pipe and bottle arrangement. After I found myself naked near the Eastern Train station, I managed to drag my feet till the station’s entrance and cry for help. Within half an hour I was in a hospital with a doctor repeatedly admitting that he had never seen anything like this before in his life. The last time when someone was this close of losing his penis was a four year old kid, whose ten year old brother got angry and cut the little boy’s John into two using his father’s razor. But I had a two centimeter depression with maggot infestation, with my urinal tract moving deeper into my pelvis for which the doctor took a mammoth three hours to find out and add a plastic pipe as an extension to it and plaster it’s conjunction with a 300mL plastic inflatable bottle to my thighs. So whenever I pee, the bottle expands and sways between my thighs. The doctor asked me how it happened. I told him that I don’t know. He said that I was useless now, and that I should pee at regular intervals. He told me that a part of the muscle cannot be stitched and it has to be left open and that I should take care from it being attacked by ants and cockroaches. I just told him a thank you and asked him to wear his gloves from the next time he puts his hands in his patient’s, well, private parts.
S. Lee’s Sex shop, Harley, no clue. Samanta Law’s Sex Shop – Mutford. No avail. I went east and I went south. I went in every fucking direction I knew of. I paid for porn, which I no longer watched, but I talked to that nymph’s in the live chat asking about Samantha Lee and a guy called Dex. Yes, Dex disappeared. I brought whore whom I couldn’t fuck but I had no information. How could a man’s dick just disappear from the face of the earth? Somebody should fucking use it! And one day, two thousand eight hundred miles from Westwind, it New Paris I found a salesman who was willing to talk. I asked him about Samantha Lee’s Sex shop.
“You mean the Nuns with guns don’t you?”
“No, I meant Sama…”
“Samantha and Lee, the Nuns with Guns, supposedly run buy a group of nuns where the entire sales go to charity to treat the sexually de…”
“Huh? I don’t…”
“Oh man! You don’t know their groups name? That’s bad. I’ve one in stock, it’s second hand and there are a few cum stains, but apart from that, it’s a class product. It cost me $10,000 and I’ll be selling it to you for $12,000. No bargain, bite it or leave it”
“What is it? I…”
“C’mon man! You come in for Samantha and Lee sex products and you don’t know what they sell? Dildos! Blood fucking dildos. All natural, supposedly cut from a real horse’s dick! A first hand product demands a million at the least and it is said that it’s cut when the horse is still alive.”
“What? May I?...”
“Aha! I need a credit card”
“Here take this fucking card, show me!”
“Wait on, lemme see that it works. The billing will be done on G. John’s Baking Corp. okay?!”
“Whatever show it to me!”
“You seem to be in a hurry heh. Follow me”
He took me into his godown. And opened what seemed to be his box of secrets and took out a long, muscular feature out from his safe.
“Here you go, the finest creation of Saman…”
I held in my hands, I could still feel the warmth of the skin. It isn’t horse skin for sure, it’s human skin, the nerves were superficial and the end was no doubt circumcised, the package came with a pair of balls and public hair included.
“These are the rarest dildos available boy, they’re specially preserved in some chemicals and then they’re stuffed with the finest foam and this come with a pre timed ejaculator. This will have your missus screaming in no time. Whenever you’re out, this goes in…”
Missus my dick. I took the dildo and rushed to the nearest bathroom and put the piece of muscle near my skin, it fit, the same tone and the end was ripped in the same manner. Maybe this could be mine, or it could be anybody else’s. But for $12,000 I had a dick in hand that I once lost, forever. Who are you Samantha Lee? Dear friends, be careful~
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